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keerysfreckles · 2 days

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perfect storm — OP81

pairing: oscar piastri x sargeant!reader

summary: oscar's small crush on his best friend's sister becomes something more after a secret is shared.

warnings: nothing too explicit but still sexual themes so 18+ (soft smut), not proofread

a/n: LECLERC FAMILY FRONT ROW IKTR!!!

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

"happy birthday to you!"

the birthday girl leans forward to blow out to two numbered candles on top of her cake. logan sargeant, oscar piastri and alex albon were sitting across from her on the other side of the kitchen island. logan sets his phone down after sending a recording of the boys horrendous singing to his mom.

oscar leans forward to take the candles out of the cake, while alex asks, "so how does being twenty two feel?"

y/n shrugs, licking the chocolate icing off the bottom of the candles before oscar can throw them away.

"the same as before. just another birthday," she smiles.

logan's about to add, but a phone call from the williams team manager takes him away to the living room.

"you're gonna miss the cake!" y/n exclaims, watching as oscar starts cutting it into triangles.

logan waves her off, "it'll be there when i get back."

alex, oscar and y/n are now left in the kitchen, all enjoying their own slice of cake.

"so, y/n," alex breaks the comfortable silence. "do you have any plans of going out and getting laid tonight?"

y/n pushes alex's shoulder as a blush starts forming on her cheeks, while oscar can't help but supress a laugh.

every year since she turned eighteen, alex always asked the girl if she found a special someone for her special day. and every year it was the same answer.

"no alex, and i don't plan on having a one night stand just because it's my birthday," she explains.

oscar can't help but notice the pink in y/n's face hasn't gone away. as much as he hates to admit it, he's thought about how it'd feel to be with y/n for one night. and now it might've been revealed she's never been with anyone before? oscar's thoughts were going a mile a minute.

"so what? you're just going to stay a virgin forever?"

y/n pushes alex's shoulder again, only causing him to laugh. as a chance to do anything to get rid of her growing embarrassment, she starts tidying around the kitchen.

"why don't you and oscar go at it?" he snaps his fingers, as if a lightbulb went off above his head.

y/n and oscar awkwardly look at each other before speaking at the same time.

"alex!"

"what?"

"why do i always walk in on the worst conversations?" logan comes out from the hallway, ignoring what his teammate has just asked his sister.

"well i was just-"

logan immediately cuts alex off, "nope, we have a team meeting to go to."

logan and alex both hug y/n quickly and wish her one last happy birthday. her and oscar start taking down the decorations around the living room of her apartment, both still choosing to ignore what alex asked the girl minutes prior.

"you don't have to stay you know?" y/n offers, "you've done plenty to make this birthday special."

"you sure? there's still three hours left until your birthday's officially over," he looked down to check his watch, making y/n chuckle.

she takes the paper streamers from his hands and brings them to the garbage.

"i'm sure osc."

his cheeks flush at the name. one y/n's grown accustomed to using after being around lando for so long.

she gives him a long hug before he leaves for the night, her fingers brush his back as she let's go of the australian.

"happy birthday y/n," oscar smiles, before kissing the top of her head.

she yells at him from her doorway for him to get home safe, which she receives a thumbs up in return.

however the boy she bid her goodbyes too was sitting in the parking garage, letting his car run just like his thoughts.

the way oscar thought about it, tonight was the only clear shot of telling y/n how he felt about her. he's had a crush on her since they were kids, and it only grew as he did.

the worst she can say is no, oscar thought.

well, the worst she can do is reject you. and never talk to you again.

oscar shakes his head as he thoughts become worse. he couldn't get himself out of this one. he didn't want to get himself out of this one.

he knocks on y/n's apartment door quickly, just as fast as his heart's beating in his chest.

"oh, hey osc. did you forget som-"

oscar takes one step closer, grabbing y/n's face in his hands to bring her lips to his.

he feels her hands moving to hold onto his wrists, but doesn't push him away. although he can't hear anything over the heavy beating of his heart.

only inches seperate them now, as their own heavy breaths mingle with the other.

y/n simply stands on her toes to wrap her arms around oscar's neck. he sways the pair slightly, a smile beginning to form on his face once he registered nothing's ruined between the two.

y/n turns her head, leaving light kisses along oscar's neck.

he simply closes to door behind him, letting the girl continue gliding her lips across his skin.

y/n sets her feet back on the ground, roaming her hands down oscar's arms, letting them fall in his hands. he runs his thumbs over her knuckles.

"you're not doing this just because alex said something, are you?" she let her insecurities get the best of her as she looks up at oscar.

he starts shaking his head before she can even finish the question.

"absolutely not. i want to do this, but only if you want to."

y/n nods, "i want to, trust me i definitely want to," both her and oscar laugh at her eagerness. "i'm just nervous."

oscar takes one of her hands in response and places it against his chest, a little off center.

she feels how fast his heart is beating underneath her hand. she couldn't comprehend that she was the reason.

"i think i'm more nervous than you love," both chuckle again.

y/n moves her hand from his chest towards his neck to pull him down to her, only to connect their lips again. she simply guides them out of the entryway and down the hallway towards her bedroom.

they only break the kiss so y/n can get onto her bed and for oscar to close the door.

oscar's eager to kick his shoes off, and y/n can't help but let a giggle fall between her lips. she watches as he climbs on her bed soon after, catching her lips in his again.

he maneuvers the two so y/n's now laying under him, with one hand pushing her shirt up ever so slightly while the other arm is bent by her head.

his brain becomes fuzzy as she begins running her fingers through his hair, short breathy moans slipping into y/n's mouth.

y/n arched her back as oscar's hand moved over her skin, silently begging to take her shirt off. she nods, moving slightly to make it easier for oscar.

oscar's eyes flutter down to the base of her neck. his thumb brushes over the skinny silver chain with a small bar, with the number eighty-one etched into it.

"you still have it?"

y/n nods, remembering the exact moment she opened the necklace as a birthday gift from oscar. four years later and she's never taken it off once.

"i never take it off," she admits.

oscar's at a loss for words. he's truly had her this whole time, without knowing it.

oscar suddenly comes back to his senses as y/n begins taking off his own shirt.

minutes pass. clothes are thrown on the floor as oscar's still hovered over the girl. his hand inching it's way closer to the spot he knew she needed him in.

oscar made sure to be gentle as his fingers brushed through y/n's most vulnerable area. he places light kisses on her neck and on her lips while helping her through her first high.

"i'll be careful, i promise," oscar moves to line himself up with the girl below him. her hands remain on his biceps, squeezing ever so slightly as he breaks the barrier.

just as oscar stated, he was more than gentle with y/n. he made sure to listen to her if she wanted to slow down, and whispered light praises in her ears as the bed started hitting the wall behind y/n's head.

"osc," y/n mumbles out. her back arches as he continues hitting the perfect spot.

he watches as her eyes close, and feels her fingernails digging into his arms. not caring that there will be red marks tomorrow.

oscar feels her tighten around him. if he could pay to feel that a million times, he would. it was euphoric, making him halt his movements. the pair locked eyes again as oscar helped y/n ride out her high.

oscar was quick to remove himself from the girl, finishing on her bundled up sheets off to the side of her bed.

oscar leaned forward to kiss y/n's forward, before whispering, "you did so good love."

y/n blushes for the hundreth time that night, taking in oscar's praise as she regains a regular heartbeat.

oscar kissed her lips once more before throwing on a baggy pair of sweatpants y/n told him he could have. he helped her clean herself up, sharing a few kisses in between steps.

now he stared in awe as she changed into his shirt he was wearing less than an hour ago. she held her arms out once she layed back in bed, beckoning oscar to follow her.

he rested his head against her chest, eyes closing shut when she started threading her fingers through his messy hair.

"osc?" her voice is quiet, unsure of how the boy in her arms will react to her upcoming thought.

he hums in response, but it's enough to make the girl continue.

"what are we?"

her movements pause as oscar sits up to face y/n. he brushes a hair behind her ear, "we don't have to worry about labels right now. we'll sleep, and i can even make you an amazing breakfast. then we can talk about it, yeah?"

she nods, but a smile makes its way to her lips once oscar kisses her again.

as oscar lays back down, y/n's thoughts come out again.

"we're not telling logan yet, right?"

"oh no, definitely not yet."

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tearsofcalamity · 3 days

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oh boothill and that sexy little waist of his ....

I really wanna grab it and hear him squeak, hear all the different kinds of embarrassed noises I can get out of him when catching him by surprise. he's indignant, muttering off some such about it ruining his tough guy reputation, but who cares! he's yours and it's just you n' him so what does it matter?

plus, he definitely secretly likes it. something about being able to feel your touch again at last, after so long of no sensation on that old metal shell, but also something about how featherlight your touches always are and how they rile him up with his overactive imagination even if you're just trailing a finger along his side.

or, picture this -- as mechanic!reader, randomly grabbing or touching him and using the excuse that you're "just making sure his touch sensors are still working properly". you both know it's complete bull, but that doesn't stop you from sliding a finger down his spine or making a grab for his metal ass (you can try and smack it but I think your hand might shatter)

now imagine he's sitting on the exam table waiting to have all his wires hooked up and such. what if you snuck on over while he's distracted fiddling with his guns, nudging your knee right between his legs. soon as he notices you he's flushing and trying to act nonchalant as well as he can, but he's definitely scootching his hips forward just a bit. for his sake, pretend you don't notice.

oh, you're just running some tests, you say as you tinker with a panel on his shoulder, not actually doing anything but keeping your fingers idle to seem like you're doing work. it's subtle, yet not so subtle the way boothill starts nudging his hips forward, huffing a bit as he manages to get an ever-so-slight amount of friction against your inviting leg, his cock straining against his pants already.

he thinks he's so slick with it, too, acting like nothing happened at all as soon as you pull back to get to your computer. but your next comment has him frozen in place, his gaze fixated on the way your fingers snap and point at the ground before you.

"if you want to hump my leg like a dog, get on the floor and do it properly."

don't be too surprised if he takes you up on that!!

#boothill x reader #sub boothill #boothill smut #hsr x reader #sub hsr #katze's secret corner #katze works n/sfw #n/sfw #he's pathetic #(I love it)

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zyafics · 5 hours

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play fake | part ten

masterlist

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a girlfriend in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content series, 18+, eventual smut, angst, jealousy, fake dating trope, ward cameron being a bad father, rafe and sarah rivalry — reader type hyper-independent, people pleaser, smart mouth, stands on business, mysterious past — rafe's characterization insecure, possessive + jealous person, asshole, mood swings

"You're starting to piss me off, Top."

Rafe's agitated. For the past couple hours, he's been in a back-and-forth with his father, talking about the prospects and future of Cameron Development. He hasn't heard anything bad about him, which is an improvement from their last meeting, but he hasn't heard anything good either. It's as if the moment Sarah came back to the picture, Ward Cameron forfeits all care regarding his eldest son.

He needs a break. But he hasn't been able to contact you. After Topper sent him a vaguely-urgent text to come over, Rafe arrives at the Thornton estate with better expectations.

"Me?" Topper gestures to himself, appalled by the declaration. "I'm trying to be a good friend here and help you out."

"By what? Lying?" Rafe snaps, getting a minor migraine due to the music blasting from the inside of the house. This, in combination to the smell of weed and alcohol wafting through the air, isn't helping his journey towards sobriety. "Was this some pathetic attempt to get me to your party?"

"I wasn't lying, I swear to you, man, I saw—"

His words were cut short by a powerful thump. It causes everyone in the room to turn and when Rafe follows, instead of discovering the source, he finds you.

His brows immediately draw together as he takes you in. Disbelief crowning his features. The look on your face is pure panic, as if you didn't expect to see him here. He wants to ask for the reason, the words on the tip of his tongue, but when his eyes finally drop to find a man's hand wrapped around your wrist—it finally registers that you are with someone.

What the fuck are you doing?

Rafe doesn't say anything at first. With a clear mind, he's taking everything in and processing. For once in his life, he doesn't jump to wild assumptions and stew in his own jealousy. He has you to thank for that.

Because Rafe trusts you. He doesn't believe this could be some romantic fluke you're trying to get with. It can't be. With a tilt of his head, almost indiscernible to the rest of the public, he seeks inquiry from you. Your lips part but no words came through.

The Kook beside you—who he recognizes as Garrison from the Island Club—pulls you towards the sitting lounge on the back porch, furnished with wicker sofas and chairs, and settles down at one of the unoccupied seats. You land on the soft cushion with a thud, facing forward, intentionally avoiding his gaze.

Rafe scoffs.

He steps away from his conversation with Topper, not needing to acknowledge the smug look on his best friend's face, before rounding the furniture to stand in front of your date.

"Move." Rafe commands, his voice low and rough, but held enough authority to make the Kook lift his head.

"There's a spot right there," Garrison points to the opposite chair, but Rafe doesn't entertain the suggestion.

"I didn't ask. I said move."

"No." Garrison grumbles stubbornly, leaning back against the backrest and placing a hand over your exposed thigh, a product of your short work attire. Rafe notices your muscles stiffening under the Kook's touch but you don't push him away as he expected you to.

His expression sharp, his anger rising. "If you don't fucking move—"

"Rafe." You murmur, grabbing his hand. He peels his eyes off of Garrison and settles on you, taking in your pleading features, your gentle expression. You're silently asking him to not make a scene, to not do something stupid, and normally, he wouldn't obey. But something about your acknowledgement calms him. "Just take the seat."

With his lips pressed together in a thin line, Rafe reluctantly listens and takes the chair adjacent to yours.

You relax, slightly, but Rafe can tell you're still on the edge. Your leg bounces incessantly against the hardwood floor of the patio deck and you refuse to look at him. Rafe, for the life of him, can't understand why.

But he settles that it's something else. You being here, without notifying him, is something else. It has to be. That's the only thing that makes sense and is keeping him rooted in his seat right now.

"Rafe," Kelce calls out, causing his head to reluctantly turn to his other friend. He holds a beer bottle in his hand and uses it to point at you. "Isn't that your girl?"

Rafe turns back, watching the way your breath hitches in your throat, eyes squeeze shut as if you were just caught. You swallow hard, but you don't answer.

So, he'll do it for you.

"Yeah—"

"It's complicated." You interrupt, meeting Kelce's gaze, but your words firmer than they've been the entire night. This causes Rafe's chest to constrict, him watching your profile and seeing the absolute look on your face. "We're just... trying not to put a label on it."

His jaw tightens, hands drawn into white-knuckled fists. The rest of the Kooks around the patio catch wind of this tension and Kelce lets out a low, depreciating whistle. "Yikes, man."

Now, Rafe doesn't know what to think anymore.

You turn back to Garrison, keeping your voice quiet, but there's an urgency behind your words. "What are we doing here again?"

Garrison abandons his hand on your thigh to throw a lazy arm around the backrest of your seat. "Heard they were gonna smoke," he explains with a flash of a smirk, aimed and targeted at Rafe. "I figure we could take a hit."

You instantly still. "Oh, I don't—"

"You haven't drank anything all night and you don't smoke either? Tell me you know how to have some fun, sweetheart." He teases, the volume of his voice louder than the intended audience. This catches a couple of nosy Kooks to spare a glance in your direction, judgment passing through their expressions, and you go rigid.

Rafe's three seconds away from grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Garrison, but something in him says to remain seated.

"I just haven't had it in a while." You assure with a nervous laugh, leaning forward to put some distance between you and the Kook.

But he doesn't catch the signal. Garrison grins and leans over—too fucking close—to whisper in your ear. Loud enough for Rafe to hear. "Don't worry, I'll help you."

Rafe figures this is some dick-measuring contest between him and Garrison; that, after his order to the Kook, it bruised his ego and he's now getting back at Rafe by talking to his girl. By reminding him that you are with him, and not Rafe.

Normally, there's no woman that made him care enough about that type of bullshit, but with you, he fucking does.

Topper and the others settle down around the lounge and start passing around the blunt. They each take a hit and spread it around counterclockwise.

Despite the reluctance, you square your shoulders in preparation to participate. Your eyes follow the lit joint with precision, waiting, anxiously trying to pull your nerves together. When Rafe's nearby neighbor hands him the blunt, he puts it to his lips and inhales a sharp breath. Holding in.

Since you're next, you meet his gaze and extend out your hand.

But it didn't go as planned.

Rafe takes the opportunity to catch your wrist and pulls you close, sliding his hand up your cheek before capturing your lips on his. He expects to be met with resistance—especially with your little date sitting next to you—but you simply melt into his touch. He takes it as a cue to exhale, and the smoke enters into your system.

Taking a step further, Rafe grab your hips, hauling you onto his lap, away from the handsy Kook that has no fucking business touching what his. All of this done in one swift motion, without breaking the kiss.

Complicated.

He fucking hates that word.

When you finally pull away, you choke up with a cough, gasping for fresh air. Rafe doesn't bother to offer you the blunt, handing it off to the next person, while you try to recover against the sleeve of his shirt.

"Really?" You say quietly, feeling his hand rested firmly against your waist. He tips his head back, meeting your gaze, and a satisfied expression settles over his face.

"You shouldn't have been with him in the first place."

"All of this for a pretend act?"

He hates that you're referring to the relationship as fake. That it still means so little to you. He doesn't let it show that it ticks him off.

"At least someone will get the message."

You don't respond, especially when he's pointedly accusing you of something you can't deny. Rafe's expression is inquisitive, waiting for you to fill in the missing gaps, on why the fuck you're with Garrison at all, but you say nothing. Own up to nothing. You simply turn away, unable to meet his confrontation.

Rafe squeezes your hips. "Sweetheart," he says with a firm warning, and despite the word coming off as a caution, you soften at the nickname. The usage spoken by its rightful owner.

You can't believe you're swooning over his possession, but you blame it on the haziness from the kiss, or the marijuana entering your body after years of discontinued use. However, deep down, you know it's something else.

That maybe it's his word and he owns you completely.

"Can we talk later?" You mumble into his shoulders, eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. "I'm getting dizzy."

Rafe scoffs, seeing this as a blatant attempt at avoiding the question, but you bury your face into the crook of his neck, almost as if you're seeking refuge in him. He couldn't force you to speak after that.

For the next hour, you remained seated on his lap. You once tried to move off but his grip around your waist was too firm to displace and you didn't bother to attempt again. It made Rafe proud. Like whatever drew you to Garrison in the first place has ceased to exist and you returned rightfully back in his arms.

This beam of pride wasn't helped by the fact that Garrison's been glaring at Rafe. But he had no strength nor power to do anything about it. Rafe scoffs. Fucking pussy.

In the middle of the smoke session, Rafe receives a call. He pulls out his phone from his pocket to see it's from his father. With a short glance in your direction, Rafe pulls you off his lap and you claim his seat while he steps out for a moment to take it.

When he returns, you’re gone.

"Where is she?" Rafe snaps at Topper, expecting one person to have seen you leave, but his best friend was preoccupied with a girl on his arm. When Rafe calls out to him again, with a sharper tone, the blond's gaze shifts to your empty seat, and shock overrides his features.

"Fuck, man, I–I don't know," Topper stammers apologetically, but it doesn't subdue the anger rising within Rafe. His fists bundled at his side, his teeth grinding against each other. It can't be a coincidence that Garrison also happens to be missing as well.

Rafe's pissed at his best friend for not being aware, especially when Topper brought him here in the first place. But he couldn't think about that right now. He had to find you.

"You're fucking useless," Rafe growls, before descending into the crowded house. The music is louder, pinching at his nerves, and the thongs of people aren't helping him narrow down his search. But he's a head taller than most and, with a quick scan of the crowd, he knew you wouldn't be here.

Where the fuck could you be?

He looks through the rooms instead, starting at the first floor. Each time he came across a vacant space, he grew more frustrated and upset. His knuckles ache from how hard he's been clenching down, and his adrenaline is spiking. He was going to lose it if he doesn't find you soon.

Because he has ideas, and he doesn't want to think of any of them.

When Rafe ascends to the second floor, it's much quieter. Emptier. Like you couldn't possibly be here. But when he kick-opens the third door, that's where he discovers you in a bedroom with the Kook, his back sprawled out over the mattress.

You're a few feet away from Garrison, ready to abandon him, when you flinch at the sudden sound of a door slamming into the wall. You freeze. Turning, with all the colors drained from your face, you expect to be caught—perhaps by a friend of the Kook or even the cops—only to find Rafe.

You don't know if that's any better.

Before you could even blink, Rafe grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him, forcing a larger distance between you and the drunken Kook knocked out on the king-sized bed.

"Leave," Rafe demands, his tone eerily calm, like the sound of a volcano bubbling before it erupts.

Garrison winces, pressing the heel of his hand into the side of his temple as he drags himself into a sitting position. "God, could you just give me a minute—"

"Leave before I fucking kill you."

The Kook, even with the copious amount of alcohol and weed in his system, wasn't stupid enough to ignore the threat. He knew Rafe’s reputation. Scrambling to his feet, he rushes out of the door.

The air in the room stills, as if all the oxygen was sucked out and all that's left is you and Rafe. His grip around your wrist hasn't loosen, firm and tight—afraid you'll leave again—and when his gaze pulls away from the door and settles onto your face, you hold your breath.

"What are you doing?"

Panic rises as a bile in your throat, constricting your airflow. You can't explain to him what you just did; how shameful you feel because of it. Instead, you deflect.

"What are you doing?" You say, trying to project a stronger voice, to make it sound normal. To pretend everything's fine when it's falling apart. "You said you were done with parties."

He can't believe you're doing this right now.

"I am," he snaps, his breathing ragged as he takes you in. See if you did anything, if there's any signs, but he finds nothing. "Top called me because he saw you at his party and you never show up to these types of things. So, let me ask you again. What are you doing?"

You don't answer.

Rafe exhales sharply, exasperation floods his features while his paranoid runs free. He knew he was going to crush your hand if he held on, so he released you, taking a step back to control himself.

"You wanna hear what I think?" Rafe prompts, his voice low and drawn-out as he begins pacing back and forth, "I think you thought I wasn't gonna be here so it would be the perfect opportunity for you to fuck some other Kook."

That's exactly what you're afraid of.

You wrap your arms around yourself, hiding. "No."

"And you thought I wouldn't find out but you forgot this is my best friend's house."

Your heart pounds in your chest, your breathing rapid, as your voice grows smaller. "That's not true."

He doesn't listen, his volume escalating in anger.

"And you're talking about all this breakup shit because you're ready to jump on the next fucking dick that can get you what you want."

You shake your head frantically, wanting desperately for him to believe you, but you had nothing to give. Nothing to shelter him and soothe his insecurities.

All you had was your heart.

But you tried. "No, that's not it—"

"Then where the fuck is your necklace?"

You stumble back, the last delivery was so sharp and vicious, it's as if he struck you.

Rafe's heaving, chest caving into itself. His eyes never strays from your face as he continues to pace across the room, waiting, expecting, wanting anything you can say to calm his spiraling state of mind.

You can't.

You know what this looks like. You know exactly what this looks like. This is why you didn't want Rafe to be here. Because, on top of what seems to be Rafe Cameron's Pogue girlfriend cheating on him with another Kook—you knew it would hurt him if he saw it himself.

But you had to.

You peer up at him with a heavy gaze, and Rafe interprets it as guilt. "I know what it looks like—"

He can't fucking believe this.

He can't stand here and listen to your excuses.

Rafe crosses the room to grab your face, with such abruptness, you flinch and drop the watch. It lands on the ground with a muffled thump and all of Rafe's concerns lowers when he follows the inconspicuous sound, finding the expensive timepiece on the ground beside your feet.

His conclusion draws slowly. "Are you... stealing?"

You don't answer, with widened eyes, you pull back from Rafe's grip and take a step back with a heavy breath. You glance down at the abandoned watch and you're about to recover it—but Rafe is too fast.

He picks it up with litheness and extends it far above your head. Impossible for you to reach.

His eyes on you but they soften considerably once he realizes you weren't cheating. You were being a thief.

His command is simple and resolute. "Talk to me."

Your breath is shaky. "It's fine."

"It's fine?" He repeats, disbelief dripping from his tone. "You just stole a eight-thousand dollars watch and you're telling me it's fine?"

He can't know. He simply can't.

Rafe sees the hesitation in your expression, your lack of response, and he can't believe it. After all the things the two of you have been through, he thought he had earned enough of your trust for you to explain why. Why you're stealing. Why you didn't tell him you needed money. Why it always has to come to this fucking point where he has to confront you and pry the measliest piece of information out of you.

You don't trust him.

And it rips at his chest.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. Disappointment and regret all colliding at once. "You know what, sweetheart? For someone who demands me to talk to them all the fucking time, you sure are a hypocrite for not doing the same."

Your eyes soften. You don't attempt to contest his statement because he's right. He's absolutely right and it stings because you do trust him and you do need him—you just don't let him in.

It's worse.

"You're right." You start deliberately, feeling tears well up in your eyes but refusing to let them fall. You inhale a sharp breath, steadying your voice. "I am a hypocrite."

Rafe didn't expect you to agree so easily. It almost sounds like defeat. He doesn't know which direction this conversation is heading, but he knows he doesn't like it. He recognizes that immediately.

With his guards up, he watches you.

"I..." You stammer to find the words, your emotions overwhelming you. But you don't cry. You can't. "It's not fair to you."

Everything in his head is raising alarm bells. Something about your words makes him panic. The way your voice quavers at the delivery, the fact you're looking to the floor. You don't even seem to care about the watch anymore.

Rafe says your name.

"I think we—"

"Don't fucking say it."

"—I think we might need a break."

"No." Rafe refuses, shaking his head as his arm lowers to his side.

"Rafe, listen, I—"

"I heard what you said," he snaps, his voice raw, and you hear his own emotions lodged thickly in his throat. "I don't accept it. I don't agree. I don't..." He's stumbling to find his own words. To find his own meaning.

I don't want to lose you.

You sigh, dejected. "Rafe."

"No." He turns back to you. His blue eyes are sharp but glossy, as if he's on his own verge of tears. "All you have to do is tell me why and we can move past this. I can understand. I swear."

He's desperate. He's begging you; because if you're leaving him just for this, just because he discovers this, he'd rather you have fucked the Kook than put him in this misery. At least with that he can be angry.

But all he feels is pain.

"Just talk to me."

You exhale deeply, simply shaking your head. "I can't. It's my problem."

"Make it my problem, then."

For some reason, there's a bloom of hope. That maybe he wants you more than what he's told you. So, you try. You try this one time.

"Why, Rafe?" You ask softly. "Why do you care so much?"

Rafe looks at you, searching your face, and while he wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms, he can't seem to put down his pride. The idea of being vulnerable. You've done nothing but demonstrate to him that he means very little to you, that you barely let him in, and if he says it first, it means he'll get rejected first.

He can't handle that.

So he takes the easy route.

"Because we're fucking."

Your heart breaks even more.

You swallow hard. You promise yourself you wouldn't be the one seeking it out first, especially in this relationship, but you try again. You try one last time. "Is that all?"

He can't look at you when he answers. "Yeah."

You press your lips together, nodding to his confirmation. You got what you asked for: the same fear you're afraid to discover. You're going to take his words at face value because what else is there to do?

"That's what I thought."

It's too painful. To continue to stay in this room with him, after he made his feelings known. After you recognize how absolutely fucked you are regarding your own. You need to leave.

You don't say anything else as you move past him, taking the watch from his loosened grip on the way out. You stop at the doorway, staring at his broad back, hoping, silently pleading, he would turn around and change his mind and confess his feelings right there, but he doesn't.

Because he's Rafe Cameron.

And he simply doesn't have any for you.

You exit out of the door and close it behind you, needing that extra barrier of space. When you descend down the grand staircase, you hear a muffled fuck! so loud, it shakes the entire mansion.

But you don't look back.

You just leave.

—

Once you park in the driveway, you stay in the car for the next few minutes. You just needed some time to yourself. To readjust. To figure things out.

You honestly don't know how you made it home. Your mind was on full auto-pilot the moment you stepped out of the Thornton estate, and you can't remember driving down the narrowed roads, stopping at the traffic lights. You're just here.

You know your next step should be to go inside and get some rest. You need it to wake up early tomorrow and go to a local pawn shop to trade the timepiece for cash. Even as you're dealing with the emotional fallout of you and Rafe's argument, you didn't have the time to delve into the specifics of your heart.

You need to remain focused. To stay on track. Remind yourself that you've successfully stolen a watch from a Kook—whom you don't even know the name of—and prayed all the shots you fed him would be enough for him to forget. To wake up tomorrow with black-outed memories.

This is supposed to be a victory.

Why does it feel like a hollow one?

Your fingers clutch the stolen watch in your hands. Your nails scraping across the gold-plated case, the recognition of the brand behind the thick glass. Rafe's right. This alone could afford to pay off a payment to Aaron and he would leave you alone.

You exit from your beatdown car and make the short walk to the porch. The lights inside the house were off, probably because it's so late and your sisters are off to bed.

When you stop in front of your front door, all the hair on your neck stands. Something feels off. You take a step back, hearing the familiar creak in the floorboard of your wooden porch you always avoid. That calms you down for a second. That perhaps you're overthinking it because of the fight.

You pull the keys out of your bag, and you're about to slip it through the lock, when you realize something.

The door is cracked open.

It's a small gap, almost undetectable by a passing glance, but it was enough to disengage the locks and grant full access to your house.

Your heart starts to race once you realize something is wrong and your intuition was correct. You replace the keys inside your bag, your shoulders squared and your stance on defense, before you shove the door open.

And what it reveals is a complete mess.

Furniture is flipped all over the place, broken glass scattered across the carpeted floor. The bookshelves attached to the walls have been ripped off, their decors and old books thrown all around. The screen on the TV has been kicked in, cushions have been ripped apart with fluff all over the ground, and the kitchen cabinet doors have been torn off their hinges with shattered plates.

All you hear is the sound of your rapid breathing while you take in your surroundings, blood coursing through your eardrums. It's all on you.

Before you hear a muffled wailing.

Realization dawns on you.

Your sisters.

You drop everything and run to the source, approaching their bedroom and nearly tripping over your discarded belongings in the middle of the narrowed hallway. Once you reach the room, you kick-open the door.

There you find Amara, standing in the middle of her equally-destroyed room, in absolute tears.

But Leilani is nowhere in sight.

Your panic skyrockets.

"Where's Leila?" You ask your weeping sister, her fragile voice hitched with heavy hiccups and incoherent mumbles. "Where's your sister?"

You sink to your knees in front of her, cradling her soft cheeks, shaking as you brush away her tears. "Please, Mara. Talk to me. Where's Leila? What happened?"

She offers nothing more than the frantic shake of her head. Words unable to spill from her mouth. She can't talk. She can't even stop crying. She just experienced something traumatic and you're over here drilling her for answers.

No, this is your responsibility to bear.

Knowing you won't learn anything, you rise to your feet and rush out the bedroom door, screaming out your sister's name. "Leila! Leilani! Where are you?!"

No answer. The only sound is the low hums of the broken air conditioner, and you go into your room to search. You find a similar mess: drawers pulled out, clothes all over the floor, the mattress on your bed flipped over, but nothing of the twelve-year-old girl.

Your heart is pounding viciously against your heart, so hard, you think it's going to burst. Your hands are growing clammy. Your breathing unstable.

But you can't think about that.

You check in the bathroom, the closet, any places she could be hiding and coming out completely empty. It's almost as if she disappeared.

What the fuck do you do?

It doesn't take a genius to know this is Aaron's doing. His warning. That it's nearing the end of the third day and you still haven't gotten him his money. This is him trying to scare you.

And it's working.

You can't help but think of the worst possible scenarios. Leilani is the most like you. She's growing into her own person but she mimics most of your behavior. She's cautious, and full of wonder, but she talks back without turns and she has this bleeding sense of justice you never want her to lose.

But you're afraid that same attitude you love about her is what got her into trouble. That Aaron might've caught her smart mouth and taken her as retribution.

You can't help but descend down this spiraling theory. Your breathing grows ragged and shallow, like the air is sucked from your lungs, and you swallow hard—but something hard is lodged at your throat.

You can't breathe.

You can't fucking breathe.

You run out to the living room, holding onto the walls as crutches and you fall to your knees in front of your bag, searching for your phone. Tears pricking your eyes, blurring your vision, and your fingers tremble as they attempt to type the passcode. You got it wrong twice before being granted access.

What do you do now?

Your first instinct is to call your parents, to dial up the memorized digits of your mother's and seek their help. But you can't.

Because they're dead.

You're heaving with this daunting reality that you have no one. That you can't help no one. And it's absolutely shattering.

Your heart is hurting; throbbing against the side of your skull. You hear Amara's constant sobs between the walls, echoing through the empty house, and your heart is clutched with this indescribable pain from missing Leilani—like you had a limb ripped off your body.

You can't help her. You can't even help Amara.

You can't help anyone.

"Fuck," you swear under your breath, brushing away the blurring tears in your eyes. Exhaustion bleeds through you but you’re still trying to figure this out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

You think you're going to lose it. You're going to breakdown right then and there, in the middle of your disgusting living room, cradling your phone, wishing you still had your parents. It's a rock bottom you didn't expect to have.

But then, you hear the familiar sound of a creaky floorboard.

And you raise your head.

Just to see Leilani with Rafe.

"Leila?" You breathe out, immediately standing on your wobbly knees as you rush to your little sister and cradle her face in your hands, trying to find something tangible to hold onto, before letting out the largest sigh of relief.

She's okay.

Other than a small cut on her forehead, she looks to be in perfect health. She's here, in your hands, alive, and not taken hostage. That's honestly all you could have asked for.

But something in her expression boosts an edge of concern. Not for herself, but for you. You hate the look in her eyes, as if the roles were reversed and she had to be taking care of you.

You refuse to crack. You have to remain strong. For them.

Pulling back, you finally turn to acknowledge Rafe. He stands beside your sister, silently observing this entire interaction, saying nothing, offering nothing.

You don't know how they ended up together, or why, but you were glad she was safe. That she was with him.

And honestly, you're glad he's here.

You don't say anything, staring up to him with this timid, hopeless look, and his heart fucking shatters. He's never seen you like this before, so vulnerable, so scared, so afraid of yourself. It's like he's meeting a version of you he didn't know existed.

And it absolutely kills him.

"Baby..." Rafe says with such tenderness, with such care, as if you didn't have the worst fight of your life an hour prior. As if you didn't have your own heart broken by the same man. For some reason, this offer of gentleness is the very proof that you've been broken.

So you break.

And fall right into his arms.

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vivwritesfics · 2 days

Text

Hungry Like The Wolf

Chapter Eight

She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.

1.3K

Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando

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She laid back on the bed, far too calm for what Lando had just blurted out. "Run that one buy me again?" She said with her eyebrows raised.

It was a joke, it had to be a joke. She knew the rumours that surrounded this place, the stupid stories about the werewolves and the vampires roaming the town.

And Oscar and Lando were playing into it. They had to be.

Lando's head dropped and he let out a sigh. "I'm being serious," he said. It was far too late to backpedal now. "Oscar and I, we aren't human," he repeated. This time his voice was sure.

And, this time, she was less sure he was joking. "Oh, fuck," she said, sitting up straighter. But still, it couldn't be real, could it? They were human. Because, well, what else could they be?

Lando looked towards Oscar. "Show her," he said and nudged him.

In truth, Oscar didn't know how she hadn't noticed by now. He hadn't been trying to hide his fangs and, with how often he had his lips on her, he didn't know how she couldn't have known.

But he hooked his finger around his top lip and pulled it up, exposing his fangs. "I'm a vampire," he said, still lifting his lip. "And this dickhead is a werewolf."

"Fuck," she said through a hiss, shuffling back on her bed, away from them.

Shit, this was exactly what Oscar was afraid of. "Wait!" He strode forward, but she only backed up further. "Fuck, Lando, this was why I didn't want to tell her!" He snapped at the werewolf.

Lando's eyes flashed as he looked at Oscar. "You shouting isn't going to help, is it, Osc?" His words came out slow, almost dangerous.

Neither of them were looking at her as she got as far away as she could from them. Her heart was beating erratically and she held her chest. No matter how deeply she breathed, not enough air was getting into her lungs.

Shit, she was going to pass out.

Lando noticed first. "Oh, fuck," he mumbled and climbed over the bed to get to her. "Baby, baby, calm down," he said and held her upright. His hands were on her neck, touch gentle as he felt her elevated pulse. "We're not gonna hurt you, I swear."

Still, her breaths were coming out too quickly. But she wasn't pushing him away. Looking past him, over his shoulder, she locked eyes with Oscar.

Oscar, the vampire. Oscar, who hadn't hurt her. Yet.

She breathed deep and looked at Lando. "Why did you tell me this?" She asked quietly.

Lando's hands fell from her neck, into her lap. "I... thought it was better that you know," Lando answered just as quietly as she had asked the question. "I..." He looked back towards Oscar. "We, Oscar and I, we both like you." He said it so quietly, curls falling over his face as he looked down at her hands.

There was a moment where she said nothing, brows furrowed as she stared at them. "Wait, let me get this straight," she said and shook her head, almost like she was clearing her thoughts. "So, you and Oscar both like me. And to go about that, you guys decided to tell me that you're vampires."

"Werewolf," Lando quietly interrupted.

She glared.

But her attention quickly moved behind him, to Oscar. He hadn't moved away from the desk, hadn't met her eyes again. He stared down at his shoes, gripping the desk chair almost hard enough to break it.

"Osc?" She called and Lando moved to one side. "Why haven't you eaten me yet?"

His chest shook slightly as he laughed. The laugh only last a second, but his lips were turning up. "I don't eat people," he said and looked over to her. "But I don't drink from people that don't want it," he answered honestly.

Her expression softened. "How... what do you eat?"

Oscar breathed in as he thought about it. "Animals, mostly. But there is a select, small group of people that want us to drink from them."

And, again, she was frowning at him. "Really? People want you to drink from them?"

He nodded his head. "Apparently it feels good," he said rather nonchalantly.

With wide eyes and raised eyebrows, she turned towards Lando. "Huh," she said, but her tone wasn't questioning. "That's interesting."

Interesting. That wasn't the word either boy had expected her to use. Lando looked back at Oscar as Oscar looked between the two of them. And then, he turned back to her. "So, are you gonna kick us out?"

She shrugged her shoulders, which wasn't the most comforting thing in the world. Both boys were still as they waited for something, anything from her. Some indication that she was going to get her dad's gun.

She sucked in a breath. "I wanna know more," she said. "I get that you both like me, and I can't say if I like the both of you too, I'll be completely honest. But I'm not saying no, not yet."

Oscar let his head fall back. "Holy shit," he said quietly, his accent coming through particularly strong. "Those were the most anxiety inducing moment's of my life."

Laughing, Lando sat back, his back against the bed as he sat opposite her, legs stretched as far as they could go. "I genuinely can't believe you're giving us a chance," he said and breathed out a laugh. And then he was looking up at Oscar and beckoning him closer.

Oscar pushed himself away from the desk. He strode around the bed and sat beside Lando, leaning against the bed with his legs between them. "I genuinely can't believe you're not kicking us out," he said, trying to mimic Lando's voice.

She knocked the both of them with her feet. But then she was looking up at them with a seriously expression. "What happens on a full moon?" She asked Lando.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Heightened emotions, less control over when I change and... horniness."

The last part was said so quietly, she and Oscar almost missed it. But their giggles signified that they had.

"Can I see you change?" She asked through her giggles.

Lando was suddenly standing. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, over his head, dropping it on the bed. The two of them were unashamed in their staring, enough to have a blush rising to Lando's cheeks.

"Look away, both of you," he insisted as he unbuttoned his jeans.

"But we were just getting to the best part," said Oscar with a grin as she pouted.

But Lando stopped and held his hands on his hips, not going any further until the both of them looked away. Oscar stared at her and she had her hand covering her eyes.

Sucking in a breath, Lando pushed down his shorts and transformed. He'd long since passed the stage when his bones hurt as he transformed. No, the sensation was somewhat nice as everything snapped into place and his body grew fur.

When he was fully transformed he jumped on the bed. She lowered her hand from in front of her eyes and Oscar turned around.

Now, Oscar didn't gasp like she did. No, he'd seen Lando transformed before, had been attacked by him, too. But she was in awe as she stared at him. Pushing up from the floor, she slowly walked towards him and stretched out her hand. "Can I?" She asked.

Lando pushed his head into her hand.

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gloomwitchwrites · 16 hours

Note

Secret relationship and they find out you're being transferred to a different team.

Anon...how DARE you. But really, the angst that this prompt is giving is everything. I want to warn readers now that I was not nice with this one. There is a lot of angst happening here. There is nothing spicy about it. It's all pain with a little comfort sprinkled in for a few of our boys.

(Sorry not sorry)

These are presented in four individual double drabbles.

Content & Warnings: angst, mild emotional hurt/comfort, secret relationships, yearning, heartbreak, 141!reader

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

“We’ve got two weeks!”

“Soap.”

“Can you believe that?”

“Johnny.”

Soap’s smile remains but melts slightly. “What?”

“I’m leaving.”

He chuckles. “We both are.”

You shake your head. “No. I’m leaving the team.”

Soap frowns slightly. “Retirement?” He shrugs. “Seem a bit young.” That smile returns and he saunters forward, his large hands grasping your hips. “Means we can go public.”

He leans in for a kiss, but your heart isn’t in it. Soap realizes the reluctance the moment your lips meet. “It’s something else,” he says.

You nod because that is all you can manage. Originally, Captain Price said he wanted to tell the team together, but he doesn’t know about you and Johnny. Soap needs to know first before the rest. If not, it’ll come as a blow and a betrayal. You can’t do that to him no matter what Captain Price says.

“I’m being transferred,” you murmur, voice breaking slightly.

Soap does not retreat. He rests his forehead against your own, eyes closing as he inhales. His arms slide from your hips to your back, drawing you against him.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says rubbing your back. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle enters the meeting room. It’s the last one before everyone breaks for a month.

But there is someone missing.

Laswell and Captain Price talk quietly, their heads bent in conversation. Soap is showing something to Ghost on his phone.

You are not among them. You are not in your usual spot.

Laswell glances up and Price clears his throat. “We can start.”

“Hold up, Captain. We’re missing one.”

Kyle gestures toward the chair you usually sit in and Price frowns.

“Transferred on another mission,” interrupts Laswell.

Kyle says nothing, sinking into his chair. He listens but most of it slips right out of his head. The only thing he can think about is that you’re not here and you didn’t say anything.

When Laswell and Price are finished, and everyone begins to exit, Kyle lingers, intent on talking to Price.

“Not gonna talk about our missing team member?”

“Nothing to say,” shrugs Price. “Transferred this morning.”

Kyle swallows down the emotion rising in his throat. No one knows about the two of you, and if he pushes too much, he might reveal something he shouldn’t.

“Coming back?” asks Kyle.

“Eventually,” answers Price. “Not sure when.”

Eventually. There’s hope then.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“You’re leaving.”

“Simon.”

“Did you plan on telling me?” You remain silent and Simon shakes his head. “Waiting for Price to do it?”

“That’s not true.”

Simon takes a step forward, entering your space. “I saw the transfer on his desk. I saw the date. How long have you known?”

“Does that matter?” you ask.

“Of course it does,” he snaps.

Simon is never angry, not with you. His anger is subtle which makes it more terrifying. This is something else. Simon is hurt, and you’re the cause of it.

“I’m sorry you found out like this. I planned on telling you.”

“When?” He’s closer now, towering over you.

“When I had more information.”

“More information?”

“I don’t know where I’m going or with who,” you add.

“Might not tell you until you get there. Happens all the time.”

You understand his meaning and know that Simon is right. Would you have left without telling him anything, only saying something once you’d left?

No. This thing between you might be tangled but he is the only one you want.

“Are you upset?” you ask.

Simon deflates. “Not with you.” He tugs you against him, creating a cocoon of warmth. “Never.”

John Price

The transfer papers mockingly stare at Price.

All this time, he believed he could have you without repercussion. Didn’t matter that you were another member of the team and his subordinate. You were his, and Price could protect you.

But these papers came from someone above him, and he cannot refuse them. No matter how much he wants to.

And no one knows what the two of you do when there isn’t anyone looking. But now, that’s shattered. Broken. And Price must grieve for your departure in silence. Price has already raged. He punched the wall until his knuckles bled.

After that, he walked until he came to terms with it.

You don’t know yet. You have no idea. Telling you will be the hardest part. What will happen? How will the two of you move forward? Can the secrets remain, or will it all need to be out in the open?

Price sighs and runs his hands over his face.

This is a punishment. Must be. Why else is it happening?

There is a loud knock at the door. Again, Price sighs, knowing that he has to face the reality of the situation.

You are on the other side.

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yazmarina · 2 days

Text

one slip (and falling back into the hedge maze)

alex albon x fem!reader

you and your best friend aren't sleeping together...right?

warnings/notes: smut, fwb setup, unprotected sex (wrap it up, friends), breeding, mild power play

a/n: there's this photo of alex making pancakes (see: fic header) and my friend and i went nuts talking about alex as your fuck buddy who takes care of you...

"Serious question, and don't laugh, but are you and Alex sleeping together?"

Having been in the middle of drinking, you feel the water catch in your throat despite it being, well, literally water. You cough and splutter, striking your chest with your palm to clear the liquid from your windpipe. Meanwhile, Logan laughs, slamming his hand down on the table as he watches you struggle as if all of this was oh-so-hilarious.

"What the fuck, Logan?" you demand, eyeing Logan the same way you would if he spontaneously grew another head right at this moment.

"Hey, don't blame me! George was the one that put it in my head," Logan deflects, raising his hands up as if to surrender.

"George?!" comes your incredulous reply. "Why the fuck is George speculating about me and Alex?"

Logan gives you an equally exasperated look. "He's Alex's best friend, duh. We were in the media pen together and we got talking. He said that you and Alex were being weird around each other and, in his words, not in an avoidance kind of way but in a 'they-refuse-to-be-more-than-five-feet-away-from-each-other' kind of way. It's throwing George off-kilter, or so he says."

You pause, unable to provide enough words in order to deny the accusation. Not that it wasn't true. Not when you were in Alex's room last night, his hand over your mouth while he railed you against the bathroom sink.

Logan raises his eyebrows expectantly at you.

"So? Are you sleeping together or not?"

Your throat runs dry and you fight the urge to cough again, because that's totally not suspicious at all. You muster up all the nonchalance in your body, shrugging and shaking your head as if everything you've talked about in the past five minutes was all a big misunderstanding.

"I don't know where you got that idea, Loges," you brush off.

"The two of you sit in each other's lap," Logan supplies.

"We used to do that when we were younger" you reply.

"I caught him with his hand in your back pocket the other day."

"It's a joke we have."

"Even the kisses on the cheek? The ones that might as well be on your mouth?"

You narrow your eyes at Logan. You feel your heart thundering and you're not sure if you're showing any other signs of lying. You've always been a bad liar. Your face could be a deep shade of red or you could be sweating through your shirt right now. You definitely feel every hair on your body stand on end with how nervous you are.

"Just because you don't have a friendship like ours doesn't mean you get to judge it, Sargeant," you say with a roll of your eye.

Oh, you are so fucked.

"George asked me the weirdest thing today."

Your head snaps up as you hear Alex exit the bathroom, hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist. It's just after qualifying and Alex had trudged up to his room, crestfallen as was the norm for him in the last couple of races, with him being stuck in perpetual Q2. He'd given you a keycard to his room at the beginning of the weekend, telling you to come and go as you please, and you very much were pleased to wait for him after today's disappointing session.

Nothing a little blowie and a hot shower couldn't fix.

"Did he ask about me and you?" You question, stretching slowly on the bed, burrowing further beneath the sheets. Alex meets your eyes, his forehead creased.

"How'd you know?"

You shrug. "Logan asked me the same thing today."

"And? What did you tell him?" Alex presses further, grabbing a pair of his underwear from the haphazardly packed suitcase on the floor.

"Nothing. I told him he was crazy for thinking that," you say, watching as Alex drops the towel, his ass in full view.

"Is he really, though?" Alex asks, turning back to you with a smirk.

Something about the way the warm hotel lights hit his face and the way his neck is still wet from the shower makes you want to crawl right up to him and ask if you could have a repeat of last night.

"Oh yeah," you respond sarcastically, throwing the covers off of you. Alex found you in your (his) oversized hoodie when he came back from the track earlier, but you've discarded it now to reveal the skimpy pajama set you had on underneath.

"We're totally not fucking on the low like a pair of rabbits," you add, grinning as you see Alex chuck his underwear back onto the pile. He crosses the room in two strides, climbing onto the bed and effortlessly positioning himself over you.

"I hate you," Alex says, but any actual reprimand is undetected as he smiles even wider down at you. "I just showered, babe."

"Guess you'll have to keep the mess in if you know what I mean," you reply coyly, sliding your hands down Alex's torso, down his chiseled abdomen, and further to where his cock stands half hard.

You take it into your hand and start stroking, Alex drawing in a breath as he feels you squeeze along the base.

"Fuck, you mean...?" Alex asks, his own fingers creeping up beneath your pajama top.

You nod. "Fill me up, Alex. Please?"

It's the 'please' that does it for him, a low grunt escaping Alex as he attacks your lips with such ferocity the wind is practically knocked out of you.

Alex wastes no time as he yanks your shorts down your thighs, underwear already sticky due to the anticipation. You shimmy and manage to get it down to your ankles, kicking your shorts and panties off unceremoniously.

"Get naked for me, baby," Alex whispers before kissing along the side of your neck, his rough hands hiking your top up over your bare breasts. You whimper, legs hooking around Alex's hips.

You manage to get the thin camisole off, throwing it in the relative area where you think your bottoms may be. Alex automatically latches onto one of your nipples, tongue circling the rapidly hardening nub. You gasp as you feel the faintest hint of teeth graze against it.

You have no time to process much of it, though, because you feel two fingers press against your cunt, searching but quickly locating your clit before rubbing tiny circles all over it.

"You're such a good friend..." Alex teases, chuckling when he sees your eyes roll back into your head, his finger having just slipped inside you.

"...getting wet for me like this and all."

Alex adds another digit in and drags them along on your inside walls, curling and uncurling in intervals, just how you like it. You cry out when he immediately picks up the pace, giving you no time to simmer in the sensation for too long.

"F-Fuck, Alex," you whine, hips rutting in time with the movements of his hand.

"We'll get there, sweetheart," Alex reassures with a laugh and you reach up to smack him in the arm.

"You're such an idiot," you manage in between gasps of pleasure. "Just fuck me already."

Alex withdraws his fingers and you spread your legs even wider, assuming that he would heed your demand, but Alex just slides further down the bed, leveling his face with your drenched cunt.

"I said we'll get there, _______," Alex repeats, much more serious now, his eyes peeking up as he presses his mouth against your folds.

You practically quiver at the use of your name, Alex holding your gaze as he wraps his lips around your clit. Your mouth flies open and you slap a hand over the lower half of your face, afraid that any sound that comes out now will surpass the thick hotel walls.

Alex draws slow circles over the sensitive nub with his tongue, sucking and licking here and there. It takes everything in you not to thrash around with how good Alex is eating you out. Your thighs practically lock around his head and he only groans, large hands gripping them even tighter in place.

You feel the familiar knot building up, your hips rocking against Alex's face. You're getting close despite Alex just getting into it. The way he plays your body like an instrument, wills it to bend to his commands– it brings you to the edge every time. As if no other person could know your body as well as he does.

And then it disappears, Alex frees himself from your grip, lips glistening with you, your arousal all over his chin.

"Not yet," Alex orders, hiking your thighs higher, pressing them closer to your body. Without breaking eye contact again, Alex aligns himself between your legs, angling himself closer.

The first slide in is always the best. Alex hisses as he sheaths himself inside you and you let a moan rip through you, hotel neighbors be damned.

You've been waiting for this the whole day.

Alex gives a few cursory thrusts, his sounds growing louder the more he feels from inside you. You lock your legs around his hips once more, pulling him even closer.

"You better make this orgasm worth it, Alex," you taunt, pressing your forehead against Alex's.

Alex merely wraps his arms around you, pressing himself fully onto you. His hips start to hammer down on yours and you yelp, your whole body rocking with the motions of Alex's thrusts.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, biting at the taut skin before soothing it with his tongue afterward.

"You know better than to run your mouth, baby," Alex says with a soft chuckle, a contrast with how hard he's pounding into you now. All you can say in response is a garbled mix of his name and a few swear words.

A moment later, Alex pulls away, face contorted into concentration as he readjusts your legs so they lay over his shoulders, giving him an even deeper angle on you.

"Oh fuck–!"

You're cut off as Alex rams into you roughly, evidently chasing his own release now. He pushes your knees closer to your chest and you have to laugh, albeit weakly, seeing as your best friend, the one you swore you weren't sleeping with, has you in a fucking mating press.

"God, Alex, what are we doing?" You choke out, the delicious stretch between your legs building up the pressure in your abdomen.

"You tell me," Alex says before leaning down to kiss you, teeth clashing and tongues darting out frantically. You're bent into yourself in a way that you never knew possible, but here you are, spread for and debauched by none other than Alexander Albon.

Alex moans into the kiss, thrusts getting shallower by the second. Every hit of his pelvis against yours, every drag of his cock inside sends you closer to what you wanted most.

"Come on Alex, give it to me."

Finally, Alex stills, his hips snapping up one last time as he cums deep inside you. He fucks you through his orgasm and you know it's sensitive for him in the way he whines, but a few final strokes are all it takes for you to cum around Alex's cock, vision going white and your nails digging into Alex's back.

You're both panting, breath spent and bodies aching. Alex carefully extracts himself from your hold, pulling out cautiously. You groan at the sensation and he giggles, seemingly amused at your discomfort.

To his credit, Alex rushes to grab the discarded towel he was using earlier, quickly handing it to you as you feel the...remnants of him spill out of you.

"Damn, you came a lot," you comment, slipping the towel between your legs. You meet Alex's eyes and the two of you burst out laughing.

"I was saving that for you," Alex says, settling down beside you, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. Your face scrunched up as he does so but you're smiling nonetheless.

"Gross," you deadpan.

"Don't say that when my children are literally inside of you," Alex warns.

You elbow him hard in the ribs.

You wake up, the smell of coffee the first thing registering in your mind. You roll over and are immediately hit with the wall that is Alex's shoulder.

Alex chuckles, raising his arm up so you can crawl into his side. You groggily pull yourself against his chest, head right against his heartbeat.

"Morning," Alex whispers. You groan in reply, still too sleepy to form coherent sentences.

"I ordered you breakfast. You can go back to sleep if you want to, but I have to go in a bit," he continues and you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head.

You feel a flutter in your chest and your eyes fly open. Great.

"Thanks, Alex," you murmur, cuddling up closer to him. He doesn't say anything, his hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

"Love you," you add.

And you do. Love him. As a friend or as something else, you'll just have to figure out.

Alex hums, tucking your head beneath his chin.

"Love you, too."

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #alex albon x reader #aa23

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average-mako-enjoyer · 3 days

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crying screaming throwing up 1/2

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I just bitched about the lazy writing and world-building in Mass Effect, but I wouldn't love these games if they didn't have moments where everything was on point (or close to it): the writing, the animation, the voice acting, everything.

Here's one of my favorite scenes, it's very short and I bet you've never thought about it before, but it's so, so good, I'm obsessed with it and I have to scream.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that the only time that Shepard really freaks out is after the Mars mission. It happens right on screen, we don't hear it from someone else, we don't have to headcanon it, we get to see Shepard not as a protagonist, not as a savior of the galaxy, not as a soldier, but as an actual human being, simply scared shitless.

I also love that it starts with Liara immediately realizing what's going on. You can see that she freaks out too, because Shepard is freaking out, and the camera lingers on her reaction as it shifts from fear to sadness to understanding. And then we finally get to see the condition of our favorite Virmire survivor, and it's just oof.

When we go back to Liara, she already knows what to do.

And then we finally get to see Shepard. All these erratic movements are completely out of character. Throughout the three games, we only see Shepard move with some sort of intention (yes, because it's a game, and it's supposed to be that way, but think beyond that; it's also Shepard's characteristic as a person), and there's no intention in this. Shepard is holding on to the examination table, trying to lean down or move forward, and that's because now, in this situation, he can do nothing. No amount of self-sacrifice, quick thinking, tactical advantage, or stupid badassery will help. There's someone on that table he clearly cares about, and he has no say in the matter.

And Liara knows it. She leans forward to look Shepard in the eye and draw his attention to herself. She starts soft and pleading:

And dude, Shepard's expression is everything. It's sad and scared and open... again, completely out of character.

And then we can watch Liara's expression change when she sees that Shepard heard her. Her tone is no longer soft, it becomes quite aggressive.

It is all very deliberate. And it works! Shepard is still terrified, but he furrows his eyebrows and his expression closes. Now he looks more like the Shepard we all know and love.

Another change of tactics, and oh my god. Say what you will about my girl Liara, she is a real MVP here. Notice how she goes soft again and just gives Shepard a suggestion. She knows the best way to snap him out of his panic and sense of sheer helplessness is to push him to start giving orders again.

And again, it works! This sounds and looks like our usual Shepard.

Oh, I love these animations. The change from something hard-assed and in control to something vulnerable... Whoever animated this, let me kiss you on the mouth, let's ride into the sunset. You're beautiful and I love you.

✨Gentle touches✨ Not like our usual Shep at all.

Now to part 2 because I have even more gifs

#mass effect #commander shepard #kaidan alenko #mshenko #shenko #you can tag it as a platonic relationship too if you want #my stuff #my gifs

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invisible-lint · 2 days

Text

Before and After: Nightmares

Lucien x Archeron!Reader

Summary: the first in a series of drabbles before and after you went into the cauldron

Warnings: angst. angstier than I intended oops

Word Count: 1.2K

You grab a knife off a fae distracted by what Amarantha is doing to your twin. You are not one of them. She can't stop you. You may not be able to kill her, but you will not let Feyre go down alone. You stalk forward, ready to try, prepared to die with her, when warm arms circle around your body. "Don't," Lucien whispers. Your gasp of indignation shifts to a scream of rage and horror when Feyre's neck snaps, the cruel fae queen finally done torturing her. You scream, not noticing as the masks fall off the faces of the spring court fae. You scream and scream, thrashing against him, trying to get loose, the knife still gripped in your hand as Lucien holds you. You scream until your throat is raw and you can't scream anymore. And then suddenly through some miracle performed by the high lords, she's alive again. Changed. Fae. But alive. And you sob, your body going limp, the knife clattering to the stone floor. You sob and Lucien continues to hold you.

You’re not sure what it was that woke you, the air, suddenly cold from the blankets being thrown back, or Lucien calling your name. You swing at him wildly, perceiving him as a threat in your sleep-addled terror. He grabs your hand, holding it until you’re awake enough for clarity to come across your features. He crawls into bed with you, pulling you into his arms as you start crying. He presses soft kisses to the top of your head, whispering reassurances into your hair, his hand against the small of your back. He holds you like this, waiting for you to be ready to tell him what this nightmare had been about. You had them more often than not. Sometimes, about your own experiences Under the Mountain, but more often, you relived Feyre’s death. Terrified by how powerless you were to stop it, how utterly powerless you would be to prevent anything else from happening to her. Lucien just holds you, knowing that you’ll tell him what it was about when you’re ready.

“I was back Under the Mountain. Watching Feyre die.” He looks at you, brushing hair back from your face. “I’ll never be able to save her, will I? I couldn’t then and now… Now the thing that is hurting her is not something I can take a knife and try to kill. The aftermath…. It is suffocating her. She is drowning and there is nothing that I can do. What are you supposed to do when you so desperately want to save someone you love and can’t?”

He looks at you momentarily, trying to find the words that will comfort you. How can he, when he feels the same way about you and your mortality? Every day is like a ticking clock drawing closer to the moment when he will lose you, and no matter how much he may know it’s coming, he knows he will never be prepared.

“I don’t know… I wish I did…” His voice is so soft, that with your human ears, you almost don’t hear him. You nod, making a sound that’s half sniffle, half sigh.

“Will you stay with me?” You ask, voice soft as tiredness begins to creep back over you.

“Of course. Always.”

"You'd truly neutralize the cauldron? Aren't you at all curious about what it can do? How it can help you? Save your human twin, doomed to die before you?" You hear the king speak as his guards drag you in, fear bright in your eyes. You look to Feyre, to the family you've found in the night court and you could weep at the state of them. You hold your chin high, hoping to radiate bravery you don't feel as Feyre begs. You don't fight, you don't make a scene as the guards drag you to the large cauldron in the center of the room. You bite back your scream as they lower you in, the inky water so cold it's painful. And you don't fight as you're submerged, floating, suspended in a space much larger than what the cauldron should hold. The icy hot liquid burns your body as you change until finally, you're being dumped out onto the stone floor, shivering, sputtering, and coughing. Your new fae senses are immediately overwhelming. It's all too much. The sobbing, the begging. Nesta’s cries of fury. Elain’s sobbing. The sickening scent of blood. Even the stone floor, is far too cold and rough against your skin. You wish you could just close your eyes and fall asleep, fade into blissful unconsciousness where nothing is too much. You flinch, looking up as Lucian drapes his coat over you, no longer sure what he is to you. You try to tell yourself that you don’t care about the sadness in his eyes at your fear and uncertainty towards him. You just want it to all be over. You just want-

You awaken suddenly, shoving the male away from you. You move across the bed, putting as much space between your bodies as you can, grabbing a hairbrush from the vanity to arm yourself, before realizing it was Lucien. He watches you, hands raised in front of him, as if to calm you like you were a frightened animal. You throw the brush at the wall a foot or so away from him, hoping to drive him away. But he stays, watching you. You grab something else and throw it, this item shattering against the wall, but still he doesn’t leave. You hate the way he looks at you, hate the regret that fills his eyes. The pity. You throw something else towards the bathing room.

“Get out!” You scream, not caring how loud you’re being, not caring if you wake the whole of Spring. But he doesn’t, he just stands there, watching, waiting. After a few minutes, the sobs come and you sink to the ground. He crosses the room, sinking down next to you, pulling you into his arms. Tonight, you let him, some part of you tired of shoving him away, when you so desperately want him there. You cling to him, sobbing into his chest and he holds you tight. He brushes your hair out of your face, keeping it from clumping in your tears. He’s glad that you can’t see his face, seeing the tears that are threatening to spill. He knows that this is his fault. He couldn’t stop you from going into the cauldron and now you hate him. His mate hates him, and most of the time, he believes he deserves it. He flinches, startled out of his thoughts by your hand on his face. He leans into the tender touch, savoring it, despite his surprise.

“Why do you keep coming back when I treat you this way?” you ask.

“Because I deserve it. You should hate me.” I hate me is left unsaid.

“No, you don’t. I don’t.” You shouldn’t.

“Why not? I should have stopped it. Stopped them.”

“Perhaps. But what could you have done? Against Tamlin? Against… It wouldn’t have made a difference.” He says nothing, knowing that you’re right, but not wanting to agree.

“You couldn’t have done anything more than I could have with that knife Under the Mountain. I used to wonder why you didn’t try harder to stop Tamlin from suffocating her.”

“And now?”

You look him in the eyes. “Now I know you’re just as powerless as I am.”

A/N: And there's fic 2 on the blog! I have a few ideas for the next chapter of both this one and Everything Could Be Okay. Hopefully, the next one for Lucien will be fluffier, he certainly deserves it!

divider once again by @tsunami-of-tears

#acotar fic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #lucien x reader #lucien x you #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #acotar x reader #acotar x you

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yanderepuck · 3 days

Text

THIS???? THIS RIGHT HERE?????

I'm writing this. Meet you down below you horny shits.

School is dismissed for the day but you stated after to get homework done. It's much easier to concentrate in the library than it is at home.

As you are walking through the aisles of books singing catches your eye. You reach out for a book on a higher shelf when you suddenly get your sides grabbed.

"Ahh!" you scream, jumping, and swatting at whoever is behind you. You turn and pout. "Charles!"

He has a big smile on his face. "Not too loud, princess," he teased you. He grabbed the book for you and handed it to you. "What are you staying after for? Shouldn't you be headed home?"

You take the book and hold it against your chest. "I stayed to work on my essay. It's quieter here. Why are you still here?"

"I have to study for a test but I really don't feel like it," he let out a sigh and steps closer to you. "Maybe you could help me."

"My grades might be good but they aren't that good," you start walking back to the table your stuff is at, Charles following behind you.

You sit down and open your laptop to start your paper. Charles sits right next to you as if he's going to watch you type this whole thing.

"What's the essay on?"

"Charles... we're in the same literature class."

"Oh right."

You sigh and start typing. He watches for a few minutes, saying nothing and also doing nothing. He really doesn't want to study for his test.

Finishing your first paragraph, you feel something against your shoulder. You turn your head and just see fluffy dusty pink hair.

Your cheeks start to heat up. "Charles. Shouldn't you be working on something."

"But I don't want to," he pouts.

You two share a few classes, but you aren't particularly close. Youve done a few group projects together but that's all. So why is he being so clingy to you?

During group projects he did tend to stay close to you, and when then you thought it was odd. It's not like he isn't a social person so she had no reason to act shy with others.

You look back at your laptop and try to relax. Your heart is most definitely racing. Charles is cute, he's funny, he's very kind, but it's also very flirty with everyone.

"I need to work," you hope it'll get him to back off. You really did need to get this done.

"Can't we just talk?"

"Talk about what?"

Charles sets his chin on your shoulder. You look at him again. But he's really close. Very close. Maybe too close for someone you are just classmates with.

"How cute you are?" He smiles while your face goes all red. You? Cute? Compared to him? No no no. If you held a baby kitten up to him you aren't sure if you could say who was cuter.

You can't get your lips to move to get him to stop. He puts an arm over your shoulder and you think you just felt his hand rest on your thigh.

"I keep catching myself staring at you in class. Maybe that's why I'm doing bad. Since you're the reason you should help me study."

His voice changed. At first it was all cute and bubbly, but now it's deepened and gotten softer so you're the only one who could possibly hear.

"Charles I don't think-" he cuts you off his voice sounding a bit more bubbly, he sounds curious.

"Do you think I'm cute?" His head tilts.

What kind of question is that? He's beautiful. Gorgeous. You could get lost in his eyes so easily. Everything about his looks is literally perfect.

But you hesitate. Mainly because you are confused. Your head and heart are going a thousand miles a minute.

Charles starts to frown when you don't answer, snapping you out of it.

"You're beautiful!" You say that a little louder than you meant to and cover your mouth. Do they really have to be doing this in the library. There's not many others there, but you aren't alone.

"Awe. Tell me more," his voice got softer again, going back to being flirty.

You bite your lip not knowing what to say. Do you have a crush on him? Maybe. But who wouldn't? How could you look at him and not have your heart flutter.

"Do you like me?" Could he read your thoughts? This has to be a prank. There's no way someone like him could like you. "Because I like you."

He gets closer. Close enough to kiss.

He what? No no. You had to have heard that wrong. "W-what?"

"I like you," his fingers brush a lock of hair behind your ear.

Could you be any redder? Any more anxious?

"Do you like me back?"

You are hoping no one is watching you. He is practically on your lap, his hands on you. Is he trying to make a move? You wouldn't be upset if he was.

You start by nodding your head "I-I do. I really like you," your voice is so low, a little raspy, almost scared to say it out loud in case someone hears and it turns out this is all fake.

Charles just smiles. He's not blushing at all but seems very happy. "Do you really?"

You guess you didn't sound too confident when saying it. "Yes. You're very kind to everyone and you're really attractive."

"Why don't we find an empty classroom so I can show you how much I like you," he purrs.

You freeze up again. He wasn't just saying all that to get you to go off with him was he? "I-I don't think that's a good idea."

"Aww, why not?" he starts to play with your hair again. "Don't tell me you would rather me kiss you in front of every one here. You're naughty," he chuckles.

You push your chair back to force space between the two of you. "I-I need to get my paper done," you try to say it as firmly as you can.

He starts to frown. Oh no. Why does he look so cute when he frowns? He's got cute puppy dog eyes. No! Don't let him try to convince you otherwise. You need to get this done.

"Fine... I'll leave you alone," he gets up from his seat and starts walking to the door to leave.

You watch him, not sure if you feel more guilty or more curious. You do in fact like him. He's beautiful, he's kind, he's so gentle. Maybe he really has been hiding his feelings about you like you have about him.

You look at your laptop and see the little bit that you've written and quickly shut it. You gather up your notebook and papers and shove them into your backpack and rush after him.

"Charles!" He was just walking into the hallway. You get next to him and immediately held his hand in yours. "I know the one math teacher never locks his door."

He smirks and pulls you along. "Let's go then!"

You're sitting on top of a desk, Charles standing between your legs kissing you. He has one hand on your thigh and another massaging your boob. Your legs wrap around him to keep him there. You have one hand on his cheek and another on his waist.

Both of you moan as the kiss gets messier. His hand slides up further, squeezing your thigh and the other is trying to get your shirt open. Your hand slides up into his hair while your other reaches around to grab his ass.

The kiss hasn't been broken yet. You haven't had a chance to breathe. You don't want to think about what you're doing. There's no way you could say no to someone as beautiful as Charles. You wouldn't have given anyone else the time of day.

Charles gets your shirt open and yanks your bra down to get a firmer grip on your tit. You moan louder and grab his hair to keep his face close as you kissed harder. Both of your lips were going to be bruised after this.

He moves your skirt further up and presses himself against you. The harder his erection is pressing against you the wetter you get. Your hand on his ass moves to the front, palming him through his clothes.

The gasp he made nearly broke your kiss, good thing you're holding him there. The last thing you want is to come to the realization that this is a horrible idea.

The more you touch him the harder of a time he has keeping up. He whines and starts rubbing you between your underwear. Your body jerks and then you moan.

Letting his hair go, you use both hands to get his pants open, taking his cock out to rub.

Having your skin on his he breaks the kiss to whine.

"Ahh-hh," you both pant. You rub his tip and he follows with sliding two fingers into you

"I need you," he whines and starts to kiss your neck. Your moans hitch and he takes his fingers out of you. "I promise I won't get your uniform dirty."

You move closer to the edge and let go of his cock. He pulls your underwear to the side and slowly slides into you. You hold onto his shoulder, biting your lip as he stretches you.

He gives you a moment to adjust before he thrusts into you.

"Ahh!"

He starts kissing you again and holds your legs apart so he can get deeper. You grip his hair, tugging it, moaning into his mouth.

The more he moves the easier it gets for him. Your hole is stretching to the perfect size to fit him inside you.

The kissing gets rougher so that neither of your moans escape. People are still in the school so you can't be too loud.

It seems that the harder you tug his hair the harder he slams into you.

The desk under you is shaking. It would have been better to have you bend over but that would have meant the kissing would have had to stop.

He squeezes your thighs before moving them to grab your ass, slightly lifting you off the desk. You wrap a leg around him and feel him get deeper.

Now you don't know what's worse. How loud your moans are getting, or how loud your skin is hitting against each other. If anyone walks by they are going to hear.

Your nails dig into him as you are edging closer until you finally break the kiss to yell. "Charles!"

The feeling of you tightening gives him the push he needed to speed up to get himself close.

He pulls out just in time, leaving a thick stream of cum on your thigh. Both of you pant heavily, pressing your foreheads against each other. He makes sure to keep your skirt pulled up so it doesn't get dirty.

After a few moments he stands up straight.

"Hold your skirt," once you take it he fixes his pants and goes to the other side of the room to grab some paper towels.

He comes back and wipes your leg clean, making sure to get it all. As he does you fix your shirt. He helps you down from the desk and makes sure you're okay to stand before going to the trash and burying the paper towels at the bottom.

You fix your skirt, making sure it's laying flat, then run your fingers through your hair. Charles messes with his hair when he comes back over to you, kissing you again. You straighten his shirt and make sure everything on him looks fine.

"Now I really won't be able to concentrate in class," he purrs.

"You better! I'm not going to help you with studying," you huff and grab your backpack. Guess you're going to have to write your essay at home after all.

Tag list~

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @vampiricpancake @lulu-the-smol-floof @tako-cafe @floydsteeth

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp charles #smut smut smut

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lexirosewrites · 1 day

Note

Hey hey how are your thoughts on the toxic omega Steve? No plot or nothing just disordered thoughts

Like how was his relationship with Nancy and what he tells people after? How did he react after the whole Nancy×Johnathan thing? I bet he zeroed in on Eddie and was like "ooh yeah issues"

And here is a cat:

warning: this is vaguely DDDNE with toxic omega steve, baby trapping, manipulation etc!

okay! so! toxic omega steve was always sort of a spoiled brat whose parents took care of everything and he got used to being told yes to whatever he wanted in life.

nancy is his first taste of being denied. they’re a good match at first, but when she breaks it off, he’s livid. he’s been dumped and humiliated and his parents are unhappy that he’s ruining his reputation! he tries to brush it off to anyone who asks, but the damage is done. his parents have cut him off financially and told him to get an alpha or get a job!

when steve sees nancy and jonathan together, he throws a temper tantrum. not only did he lose the alpha who his parents approved of and who would give him the pups he wanted, but she went and started slumming it with byers of all people? unacceptable.

at this point steve is ready to burn his life down in anger. he goes to buy some drugs, looking for a way to numb the feelings or maybe piss his parents off… when he meets eddie of all people.

eddie who is an eligible alpha and whose involvement with steve would make his parents lose it. eddie who is staring at steve in a way that doesn’t hide his lust. eddie who is flustered when steve flirts with him and gives him the weed for free.

so steve keeps coming back. he keeps wearing shorter skirts and brushing his hands on eddie’s thigh when he laughs, throwing out every trick in the book to try and get him to snap.

eddie is too afraid of steve to ever make the first move, so steve has to do it. he practically slams himself on eddie’s cock right there at the picnic table, but he can be patient. he starts by kissing him and pretending to be shy about it.

steve isn’t shy but it’s what eddie likes. it makes eddie feel like they’re on equal footing with this thing. eddie can’t help but fall in love with him because it’s what steve planned.

it doesn’t take a lot to get eddie to ask him out, to get them in a compromising position in his van parked by lover’s lake. a couple pokes in the condoms and steve’s guaranteed a good ol’ fashion baby trap is laid.

he even pretends to be upset when the pregnancy test pops positive and eddie offers to do the right thing and mate him. steve fakes some tears and agrees that their baby should have parents who are bonded, that it’s what wayne and steve’s parents would want too.

it took a bit of work, but steve got what he wanted. he made his parents angry, he got a pup in his belly, and he got an alpha who is utterly devoted to his happiness because steve is the best omega he could ever get.

toxic omega steve is a fucking gem💕

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #my asks #omegaverse #a/b/o #mpreg #cw mpreg #tw mpreg #dead dove do not eat #dddne #toxic omega steve

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stevenose · 2 days

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idk what this is.

contains: college au; cheerleader!reader; a very self aware mean!steve who is also an angel. he has range; blowjobs (steve receiving); ‘good girl’ used once for reader; no pronouns used for reader; sort of whorish reader?; steve smoking :0; mutually beneficial self destruction??? for the record i don’t understand cheerleading nor do i care to at this point in my life. love and light just love the outfits 🫶🏻

all steve can think about during this stupid community college basketball game is how pristine your forest green cheerleader skirt is. not a single blemish on it - on you, in fact. he’s supposed to be here on a date and he’s paying zero attention to her. he’s trying - answers her questions a little absentmindedly, eyes focused in on your tits when you’re at the home section and on your ass when you’re cheering in front of the away section.

he would never admit he brought her here just to see you. certainly not to himself. though when robin asked him why on earth he thought that was a good idea, he blanched, head filling with the sight of your thick thighs underneath those pleats.

jesus christ, he’s getting hard.

“steve,” she says beside him, a bite to her tone. “what’s so interesting?”

his head snaps to look at her, eyes wide, mouth parted. “uh - it’s just, uh - number seven’s just got such good form, you know?”

and his date - she’s a total babe. straight a’s, good home life, has every prospect in the world at the tip of her fingers. and she chose steve to spend her night with. yet he’s totally fucked his chances, left alone when she grabs a ride with a friend and says she’ll see him in statistics. he’s so devastated by this that he’s slack jawed, looking around the college lobby like a lost puppy, and he spots you staring at him at the entrance to the girl’s locker room.

and you fucking wink, shit-eating grin on your face.

so, naturally, you’re on your knees in the parking lot an hour later. everyone’s gone home and you waited until the janitor told you to beat it before making your way outside. and steve’s cherry red bmw is sat under a streetlight, steve lighting a menthol cigarette beneath it. he’s boyish from afar, hardly anything to be afraid of, but when he whistles and beckons you over he looks much more intimidating.

he’s definitely intimidating when he’s towering above you, a fist tangled in your hair while he bobs you up and down on his cock.

“fuckin’ ruined this for me,” he says, takes a drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke downwards. leans forward a little to see your ass peaking out beyond your skirt. “c’mon, know you can do a lot better than that.”

you gag, eyeliner streaking down your hot cheeks, saliva pooling at the corner of your mouth. you’re glaring upwards and steve laughs, ashing the cigarette behind you.

“what took you so long?” his blunt fingernails scratch your head. “fucking some other schmuck in the locker room before tasting my cock?”

he cringes at himself. if he’d been able to take his date home as intended, he never would have treated her like this. would have whispered sweet nothings to her, held her hands, got her off first and insisted he didn’t need anything and then jerking off in the shower five minutes later. but you get off on this. that’s why you push him the way you do, why you fuck with his life so much. because you live for his cock down your throat.

“you’re pathetic.”

you moan around him, hands coming up to rest on his denim clad thighs. you squeeze at him, digging your nails into his levi’s.

“jesus, you’re so good at this.” lets his head fall backwards, throws his cigarette to the side. his hips buck into your face slowly, strings of spit attaching you to him.

you fight against his gentle grip, pulling back. “she wouldn’t have sucked you off like this,” you say thickly.

“yeah? that’s ’cause she’s got a life.” pulls you back onto his dick, sighs. “doesn’t have to show her fucking ass off to hundreds of guys for attention. pretty, pristine girls like - oh, god - l-like her shouldn’t suck cock.”

he knows he’s more pathetic than you. could have taken the loss - could have actually paid attention to her and enjoyed his night. but he’s unfortunately addicted to you, to that short skirt, to the sounds you make when he hits the back of your throat.

“gonna swallow?” he groans.

you nod. he keens. curses himself for being so fucking easy before spilling into your mouth with a loud groan, his free hand slamming down on the hood of his car. “lemme see,” he says breathlessly, and his dick twitches at the thick cream on your tongue. “good girl. swallow.”

then he helps you up, winces at the marks on your knees. leans down to rub the skin soothingly. “c’mon,” he says, gently leading you to the passenger seat. he gets the door for you, reaches into the cup holder for the water bottle he was drinking from earlier.

“here,” he mumbles, uncapping it and handing it to you. kneels down so he can keep rubbing at your knees while you take sips, staring at him with a starstruck look in your eyes - a little dazed, very happy. he absolutely adores it and he says absolutely nothing about it.

“you could just take me on a date,” you eventually say, once the gravel marks in your skin are soothed away. “not like you have much of a reputation to uphold on campus. probably ruined after tonight, anyway.”

steve’s jaw sets. “do you have to rub it in?”

“uh-huh. y’know, this skirt is a size smaller than it should be. did you notice?”

“did i notice your ass was hanging out? yeah.” he stands, knocks your leg with his. “c’mon, i’ll take you home.”

you beam. “i know.”

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader

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of-solitude-past-and-present · 2 days

Text

Warnings: branding (of reader), as well as typical yandere themes like abduction, mentioned murder, mentioned violence, and threats.

There are also slight spoilers for the main quest (Idk how the quests are organized yet HAKDHD I didn't pay attention. But I'm at the point where I have to get to union lvl 21 to continue the main quest, so no spoilers for those quests).

ALSO HI LADIES here's your yearly fanfic. The drabbles are in chronological order. Its nearly 2.9k words total. Goodbye now.

Scar is a busy man who, by the nature of his work, can't settle down in any one place for too long.

It's what is keeping you sane, honestly. You only have a certain dramatic, scarred, card-wielding bastard on your couch (or, as is becoming more frequent, next to you when you wake up) for a few days every once in a while. His visits are irregular and unpredictable, just like he is.

That doesn't make it much better, though. He seems to take pride in being a pest. Scar loves attention, and unfortunately, he's not above being annoying to get it. From monologues about the great Lament to asking you about tragedies that seem random, until he openly admits to being the culprit so he can tell the story, there's little he won't do to keep your eyes on him. None of it is anything that would be helpful to the authorities, of course, but there's not much to avoid talking about there. The Fractsidus has always made their ideals quite clear, after all.

One of the first things you do when you find him, relaxing in your living room like he owns it, is threaten to tell the higher-ups about him.

"Alright, then. Go right ahead!" With a seemingly carefree smile, he crosses his legs on your couch, feet on the table and all, and gestures towards the front door.

You narrow your eyes at him and back away, not tearing them away for a second. He snorts and gives you a small, sarcastic little wave and an ingenuine closed-eye smile.

Your back hits the door behind you, so you're forced to turn around to undo the deadbolt. Right as you do, though, a strange, bright red blanket of cards spreads up from beneath your feet, encasing you in a dome. You blink, and you're under a red sky on a desolate, floatibg island. Whirling all around you is a maelstrom of decimated buildings and pillars.

You whirl on your feet, and your eyes land on him, standing only a few feet away from you with one hand on his hip. A muted sense of anxiety thrums uneasily in the back of your mind. Your eyes meet his, one red and the other a dull gray, and you think you finally understand how a deer in headlights feels.

"Are you going to kill me?" Your voice is eerily steady and calm, belying the anxiety and adrenaline rushing through your veins. It sounds alien to your ears.

He outright laughs in your face and leans in close. "What reason would I have to lie?" he asked. "If I did want to kill you, I'd just tell you. There's nothing you could do to stop me." He places a hand on your head and ruffles your hair, undeterred by your instinctual flinch.

"Remember this. With the new Lament growing ever closer, nobody has the resources or time to spare to keep a simple civilian, like you, safe from someone like me." Scar's tone lowers towards the end with a dark promise, and his smile sharpens into a smirk.

He turns on one heel and walks away. With a snap of his fingers, the chaotic scenery melts away to reveal your simple living room once again. "Consider that a warning. Even if you did tell anyone, do you think they could do anything that would help you?" He looks over his shoulder at you, his dim, empty eyes flashing dangerously.

"Think about the price they would have to pay for your own desperation."

Night has long since fallen, but you're still out and about. It's not that you have anything left to do, it's just... when you go home, you're going to have to see Scar again. If you have to listen to another of his monologues, you might actually try to kill him. It's not because you're a little scared of him. Of course not.

(Your eyes still dart around nervously, jumping at any flash of red you see.)

You check your phone for the time, only to find it's just past midnight. Everything is closed, and you're really not sure what to do now. Maybe you should just suck it up and go home. The thought has you slumping your shoulders with a defeated sigh.

A hand clamps down on your mouth, and another strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against a firm chest. In a panic, you kick and flail and try your best to scream, but it's all futile. They drag you into the alleyway behind you anyway.

"Relax! It's just me," Scar purred, the hints of a laugh tinging his voice. His breath fans against your ear. "I've just noticed... You've been spending so much time out and about, it's like you’ve forgotten about me. Consider my feelings hurt."

Scar pulls the both of you into one of his all-too-familiar crimson portals. You try to pipe up with some snide comments or annoyed curses, but his hand only presses more firmly against your mouth.

"Ah-ah-ah." He moves his hand into your sight from your waist just to wag a claw-tipped finger at you before he places it back, securing you against him again.

It's only a few seconds before a wall in your bedroom comes into view and the red light of the portal behind you disappears. All of a sudden Scar falls backwards, pulling you helplessly along with him. You make an embarrassing, surprised little squeak on the way down, reflexively clinging to him until you both land on the bed behind you.

He lets out an amused little chuckle and rolls over, putting you both on your sides with his chest pressed against your back. He buries his face in your throat with a sigh and finally frees your mouth so he can hold you close like a plushie.

"I know what you were trying to do," he murmurs into your ear, a threatening undertone to his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat before you can stop it. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just busy."

His lips dance across your skin, and you can feel his smile against your throat. "You don't think I'm gullible, do you?"

Well, dammit. So much for that. You try to look at him to gauge his reaction, but his arms only tighten around you. His face is hidden in your neck anyway, so it's a lost cause.

"I'm... sorry?"

"As long as you don't try it again, dollface."

For a few months, maybe a year (depending on the timing and your temperament) Scar doesn't think he'll need to kidnap you. You're somewhere safe, in a place where he can come find you whenever he pleases. Why bother? Besides, it's nice watching you go about your day.

Unfortunately, he slowly comes around more and more over time, making this outcome inevitable. There are two primary factors. The prophecy is the first; his free time dwindles more and more as it nears its fulfillment, and the idea of having you available at any given moment becomes a more alluring prospect day by day. Alternatively, you're too desperate to get rid of him, and he decides it would be easier to isolate you, away from any "pesky helpers," as he would put it.

Scar tosses the idea around in his mind for a few days before he makes his final decision. He won't even keep it a secret from you, either; he tells you this casually in the spur of the moment, in a bid for your attention. Maybe you seem disinterested, too busy paying attention to something else. Maybe you've realized his "weakness," as you might call it, and tried to give him the silent treatment. Either way, what you do can push him towards a decision a little early. He usually takes great care to reign in his impulses, but with you, he doesn't have to. An ordinary citizen like yourself would have quite a bit of difficulty getting away from him, after all. He finds your helplessness freeing, to a degree.

"I've been thinking lately," Scar trails off, clearly fishing for your response.

"You can do that?" It's out of your mouth before you can think to stop it. You almost regret giving him what he wants, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. At the very least, you can focus on the dishes you're washing instead of sparing him a glance.

He snorts, but otherwise doesn't acknowledge your comment. "I think it's about time we take our relationship to the next level. Don't you?"

Your head snaps in his direction. "The hell does that mean?" you demand. Your face twists in a mixture of confusion and slowly dawning horror, an expression the bastard revels in. His toothy grin widens, and with a flick of his wrist, he produces a card out of thin air to idly spin and flip between his fingers.

"It's been really nice spending time with you here, you know? But unfortunately, duty calls, and I can't always spare the time to come visit." Scar sighs dramatically with an exaggerated frown, resting both arms on the back of your couch. "It's such a shame. I'm sure you miss me, don't you?"

You uneasily turn back to the dishes, putting another on the drying rack and picking up a new one. "Not really. Don't you have any friends to talk to?"

"And there's the other point!" You refuse to look at him, but you can hear his footsteps as he leisurely saunters to the kitchen. You try to focus on scrubbing off a particularly stubborn patch of grease on your pan. "You can be so hard to deal with sometimes! It makes me wonder if all the effort I go through to keep you happy is worth it."

You furrow your brows, a frown tugging at your lips. The moment you move to speak, a red-tipped finger comes from behind to press against your lips in a shushing motion. "Now, now, dear. No need to tell me it isn't true." His face leans into view from over your shoulder with a smile. "Besides, I'm sure you'll be just as excited for this as I am."

"Excited for wh-"

Scar cuts you off without words, making the world spin as he turns you around to face him. Your pan falls with a clatter, and suddenly you're faced away from the window above the sink and looking up into his face, split by an ear-to-ear grin. His pupils are blown wide with excitement, lit up by a manic glint in his usually dull irises.

"You're coming with me. You have three days to write out your will and say goodbye to the people you care about," he spoke, his voice rough at the edges and trembling with suppressed amusement. His hands rest on the edge of the counter on each side of you, caging you in. "Try to run away or tell anyone, and I'll kill them all. Obey, and they can live."

Scar leans in so close that his nose brushes yours, with a stare so intense you would have thought his eyes were glowing. "We have a lot of things we can do with their bodies. Would you like to see what a Tacet Discord born of human flesh looks like?"

You can't tear your eyes away from his intense, bright stare for even a second. With slow, trembling movements, you shake your head.

"Now that's what I wanted to see." Scar leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips, only pulling away after a long moment. "Not so hard, was it? I'm sure you'll be alright, there's no need to be scared!" He brightens up in a flash, any trace of his previous threats gone. He licks his lips as he turns away from you.

"All that being said, I'm sure something similar will happen to your family in the true Lament, so it doesn't matter. But if it makes you happy, I don't mind leaving them be in the meantime." Scar looks up at nothing in particular, summoning another card to toy with idly. His spare hand rests behind his back.

"Isn't it boring how the world is stagnating?" Scar starts up again. "Chaos, as orchestrated by the great Threnodians, can create a form of equality impossible to achieve with our current status quo..." His voice turns fuzzy in your mind as you tune his droning out. Three days? Where is he taking you? What about your life?

You take a shaky breath, bringing a hand up to tug at your hair. Wasn't there anything you could do? All his talk of controlling one's own destiny flashes in your mind, mocking you. Would you ever see your family again?

You only realize that Scar has noticed your breakdown when he places a hand on your shoulder and pulls you close. "Aww, don't cry," he murmurs, wiping away tears you didn't even realize were falling with a thumb. "It's not so bad, I promise." His lips stretch into a facsimile of a comforting smile, and he strokes your hair in an attempt at comfort. He pulls your face into his shoulder, periodically shushing you.

You stay like that for a few minutes, and when he deems you suitably stable, he moves to lean on you with one arm on your shoulder, the other outstretched before the both of you in a grand gesture. "Don't worry, just imagine it. Wouldn't it be lovely, being safe and sound by my side in my new world?"

"Not at all. Are you sure you don't hate me?" You mumble, your voice rough and tired.

He rolls his eyes. "Darling, I could never. Oh well, I'm sure you'll come around." Scar shrugs it off. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers, and his eyes flash, as though he had remembered something important. "Oh, by the way, the rest of today is the first of the three days. Would you like to get a head start?"

Fuck.

One day, Scar returns from one of his excursions with a plan in mind. Without a word, he sits you down in the makeshift infirmary of his Fractsidus hideout of choice for the week. For once, he refuses to answer any of your questions, instead opting to gather a few medical supplies from around the room. When he's satisfied with the collection—bandages, ointment, and a bottle of painkillers—he sets them down on the table next to you.

"Did you get hurt out there or something?" You cross your arms and lean back in the uncomfortable metal chair. "Don't expect me to bandage you up." If that growing smile is anything to go by, he knows you're just trying to cover up your sense of unease, but he doesn't call you out on it.

"You wound me. But to answer your question, not quite."

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. What could he have planned?

Scar isn't going to let you theorize for too long, it seems. He kneels in front of you, one of his signature ram skull cards held flat against the palm of his hand. He ignores you as you flinch away, tensing up, eyes darting between him and his hand.

"What are you doing?" you hiss. Scar chuckles in lieu of a response. His hand drifts up to the side of your throat, pressing his palm—and the smooth side of the card within it—firmly to the skin of your throat. As if reading your mind, his opposite hand lands on your opposite shoulder, keeping you in place before you can try anything.

With a wink, a sharp-toothed grin, and a faint flash of red from beneath his hand, he sears the card's image into your skin with a flash of white-hot pain. The rest is a blur. All you can remember are your cries as he presses your face into his shoulder, stroking your hair as he shushes you.

Now you sit on the couch, with a cup of (instant, but still) hot chocolate in hand and soft bandages around your throat. Scar crosses one leg over the other and slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close.

"Why?" you ask simply, with not even enough energy left to look at him.

He hums in mock thought, making a show out of considering his words. "Well, there's really not much to it," he shrugs with one of his characteristic smiles. "I was just thinking of something more... permanent, today."

#wuthering waves #yandere wuthering waves #yandere scar #yandere scar wuwa #yandere scar x reader #yandere scar wuthering waves #scar x reader #bro theres so many scars out there what all do i tag this #yandere scar x reader wuthering waves

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agi-ppangx · 3 hours

Text

relax (hwang hyunjin x fem!reader)

nerd!hyunjin x cheerleader!reader, secret relationship, heavy make out, suggestive at the end; 1.8k words

author’s note: alrighty so it may not be my best work, but i love love love the idea and i hope you’ll at least like it a little bit lol anyway enjoy and remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

06:47 PM

you: meet me in the locker room after the match

you: don’t be late~

hyunjin’s phone buzzed as he sat uncomfortably between other students in the stands, praying that the match wouldn't take too long. it was hot and crowded and hyunjin was wondering how people could go to matches every week or so and actually enjoy it. he didn’t want to be there, wishing to disappear or teleport to his room, but he knew he had to endure in order to see you. he missed you - not that he hadn’t seen you the same day in the hallway, but what good is it for him to see you if he couldn't even talk to you?

the loud sound of the whistle snapped him out of his reverie. the other students started cheering loudly, whistling and shouting when the match started and hyunjin didn’t know what to do - was he supposed to cheer as well? or maybe boo the opposing team? he was completely lost. in this whole confusion, hyunjin tried to find you on the pitch. he noticed a few other cheerleaders before the match, but there was no trace of you. what if you weren’t even performing that day and he was sitting there for nothing?

the cheerleaders started their chant as the first point was scored and it was only then when hyunjin stood up and finally noticed you. you looked ethereal - your hair bounced with every movement and the cheerleader outfit you were wearing made his head spin. he sighed dreamily - you were absolutely beautiful and he couldn’t get over how it was him who could kiss you and hold your hand and call you his. well, not entirely.

it was hyunjin’s idea to keep your relationship a secret. as he watched you in the hallway, always surrounded by handsome jocks and plenty of your cheerleader friends, he felt small, almost nonexistent. was he even worth being near you? he felt sick at the mere thought of people seeing you together and he didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends. did he feel good about the whole secret relationship thing though? absolutely not, but you assured him plenty of times that you’re willing to wait as long as he needed to finally reveal yourselves. he trusted you, so he just let himself enjoy the moment.

hyunjin adjusted his glasses as another point was scored. he was bouncing his leg nervously, waiting impatiently for the referee to announce the end of the match. it was getting late and hyunjin wasn’t satisfied with only looking at you from a distance - he needed to be closer.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

you breathed a sigh of relief when the match was over, smiling at the team and congratulating them.

“great job, boys,” you let out, trying to quickly head to the locker room. however, one of the players had a different plan and wrapped his arm around your waist. you stopped in your tracks, freezing uncomfortably.

“i’m hosting a party tonight, wanna come?” he asked, his lips too close to your ear for your liking. you smiled faintly, trying to break free from his grip.

“i’d love to, but i can’t tonight, sorry,” you said in an apologetic tone, but he didn’t seem to buy your lame excuse. he removed his hand anyway and ran to the rest of his team, leaving you alone without a word. the rest of your cheerleader team went with the boys as well, laughing at their jokes and drooling over their athletic bodies. you scoffed, but paid no further attention to it as you sprinted to the locker room to get there on time.

the room was dark when you entered it, a shiver going down your spine as you closed the door behind you. you hoped hyunjin didn’t forget or worse - didn’t change his mind.

from the very beginning you were completely infatuated by hyunjin, his talent for drawing and loser-like personality. he may have been clumsy and a bit scatterbrained, but it was exactly what made him, well, him. you tried to persuade him to let go and be open about your relationship, but he was adamant on keeping it secret. it made you a little sad, of course, but you accepted his decision regardless. in fact, if you thought about it, you kind of liked hiding in closets and stealing kisses when no one was looking.

a sudden tug on the doorknob brought you out of your thoughts. you opened the door and saw breathless hyunjin barely standing. you grabbed his shirt and dragged him inside, smiling sheepishly.

“what took you so long?” you whispered loudly, locking the door and scanning his figure. he raised his finger, taking a moment to regulate his breathing.

“i tried to avoid the crowd and, um… got lost,” hyunjin mumbled with rosy cheeks, nervously scratching the back of his neck. you giggled, taking a step in his direction and adjusting the crooked glasses on his nose. he brought his arms to your hips - a habit you taught him. he was staring at you with wide eyes and suddenly the air in the room thickened.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“you looked really pretty today. i kinda wanted to paint you,” he whispered with rosy cheeks, his gaze wandering back and forth between your eyes and your lips. you smiled at his words, feeling as your face got warmer. you were sure he was so gonna paint you after today.

“go on,” you said, your voice barely above the whisper. “i know you wanna kiss me.” hyunjin blinked a few times, his brain going haywire. although he had kissed you plenty of times before, usually it was you who initiated it, not him.

he leaned a bit closer, his breath speeding up as you placed your hand on his cheek. he hesitated when he felt your hot breath on his face, but one look from you dispelled his worries and he placed a sloppy kiss on your lips. his moves were uncoordinated, almost random, and you quickly started to get impatient, but decided to let him take control for now. he has to learn, you thought to yourself.

your hands wandered all over his chest and face as he slowly but gradually deepened the kiss, making your head spin a little. his grip on your hips tightened and you were going feral.

“hyune,” you breathed out, pointing to the shelf standing against the wall. even in his state he managed to drag you there and awkwardly helped you to sit on it. you brought your hand to his hair, tugging at it slightly and earning a quiet groan from him.

“shit,” hyunjin muttered as his glasses tilted on his nose again. he tried to fix them, but you grabbed his hand, bringing it to your neck instead.

“leave them be,” you said, parting your legs so hyunjin could stand closer to you. he yelped as you dragged him between them, the feeling of your thighs trapping him made his brain malfunction.

after what felt like eternity you broke the kiss to catch your breath. hyunjin’s cheeks were as red as a tomato and you laughed at his state. he looked drunk, his tilted glasses only added to the impression.

“what?” he asked dumbfounded, looking around.

“nothing, just-” you reached out to adjust his glasses. “there. you looked funny.” hyunjin pouted at your words and you smiled. you felt giddy when you looked at him and you never wanted the feeling to go away.

“but you told me to leave them like that…” you giggled at his reaction, a pleasant warmth spreading in your chest.

the comfortable silence settled between you two as hyunjin intently scanned your face, taking in every detail for the millionth time. your gaze wandered after his, his brown eyes observing your features like a curious child taking in the wonders of the world.

“who was that guy you talked to after the match?” he suddenly blurted out and it took you off guard. your face twisted in confusion as you tried to recall the situation. oh.

“it was one of the teammates. he hosted a party tonight and tried to persuade me to go,” you explained, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“oh,” he let out. “okay. do you… do you like him?”

“hyune, are you jealous?” he dropped his head - suddenly your shoes were way more interesting than your face. “hey, look at me,” you ordered him softly but firmly, placing a finger under his chin.

“sorry.”

you shook your head. “you have nothing to apologise for, okay? i’m sorry that it made you jealous.” hyunjin nodded at your words, a sudden wave of guilt overflowing his senses. “if it makes you feel better, he is a complete asshole. and i don’t like him,” you laughed and he smiled faintly, straightening his back. “now, where were we?”

you leaned forward and captured his lips in a passionate kiss, your tongue asking for entrance, which made hyunjin’s knees buck under him. he grabbed your shoulders, but you only ran your hand over his back in a soothing manner. though scared, hyunjin let your tongue in - it was sloppy and uncoordinated, because even if it was you who led the kiss, he still felt like a lost child in the wilderness.

“relax,” you mumbled into his mouth as you sensed his fear. i’m trying, he wanted to say, but he only let out a small whimper, dropping his arms to rest on your hips. with all his might he forced him to cool off. relax, hyunjin, he repeated in his head over and over again and he didn’t even notice when his tongue started to move with yours in unison.

“i missed you,” you suddenly uttered, breaking the kiss. hyunjin looked at you with wide eyes.

“really?” he asked and you giggled.

“of course, dummy. why are you surprised?” you tilted your head. “aren’t my kisses enough proof?” you teased, placing your hands on his chest. his heart was pounding, all because of you.

hyunjin shrugged his shoulders, his breathing speeding up. “no! no, it’s not that, i just… i dunno, i’m- i’m scared that this-” he moved his hand between your bodies. “-is just a dream. and i don’t wanna wake up.” oh. you looked him straight in the eyes.

“you know i’m serious when i say i like you, right?” you asked hesitantly, taking his hand in yours. it was sweaty from all the tension. you rubbed his palm with your thumb to calm him down.

hyunjin looked at you with a puzzled expression. “y-yeah, i know,” he said with a shaky voice. you placed a feather-like kiss to his cheek, then another one, going down to his jaw and neck, peppering him with soft pecks - a sealing of your words. he melted under your touch, his eyes wide open as he stared into the wall behind you, unable to move. “hey, you know what? i’m kinda hungry,” you said suddenly, bringing hyunjin back to you. he let out a small hm? and you spoke again with a smirk plastered on your face. “wanna eat some ramen with me?”

taglist ! @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @xocandyy @minhosbitterriver

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz au #stray kids fluff #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #skz hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin hard thoughts #hyunjin hard hours

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4unnyr0se · 15 hours

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❥ librarian | chuuya nakahara

warnings: fem! reader, meet cute, chuuya is a flirt bc i said so, wined and dined, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, bedroom sex, hickeys, making out, hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, rough sex, whiny chuuya, corruption kink(?), reader does not know how to dress to save her life, sugar daddy(?) chuuya, unironic lip biting, chuuya is one hell of a chef, dirty talk, reader reads smut, semi-proofread

MDNI | 18+ content

word court -> 4.7k

“Excuse me, could you keep your voice down, please? It’s a library…” was something that you said more often than you would like to admit. Sure, you only took the library job because of how insanely introverted you were, but that was neither here nor there. You thought that people would have more respect for a place that let you borrow as many books as you wanted, but nope. It was either filled with screaming children, teenagers kissing in the nonfiction section, or the elderly who didn’t know how to open their email accounts, bless them.

Other than the constant shushing (and the resulting glares you get from people you’ve shushed), the library job was nice. It was comforting, it had decent pay, and you got to keep some of the books that no one wanted to check out anymore. Hell, you even got hit on once or twice by freakishly tall men. Then again, all men were freakishly tall in your eyes. You fit the tiny librarian stereotype quite well, which your fellow librarians found to be adorable.

Standing in the true crime section, your heeled feet stood on a step stool so you could better organize books about mafia activity in past decades. It wasn’t a very popular section by any means, mostly because the locals that frequented the library thought that true crime a was bit too niche. You didn’t mind really, it just meant that you got to be on the opposite side of the building and away from the screaming children. Often you wondered what it would be like to be a witness to a mafia hit, how the adrenaline pumping in your veins would make you feel. Lost in your train of thought, you neglected to notice that you were slowly slipping off of the step stool, the backings of your high heels teetering off the edge. It wasn’t a steep drop by any means but it would hurt pretty damn badly if you fell.

Taking an ignorant step back, the back of your heel found nothing to land on. Yelping slightly, you spread your arms out and waved them back and forth in what was probably the world's weakest attempt at flying. “Oh shit-” you closed your eyes shut and braced for impact, hoping that you wouldn’t land on the sharp metal bookshelves behind you.

The impact never came. Instead, you felt a warm embrace of someone holding you. You opened up one eye carefully, your baby hairs covering your forehead.

“Hey, you okay?” A deep and raspy voice snapped both of your eyes open, your gaze landing on a head of ginger hair. The man smirked at you and let you down, making sure you didn’t have any scratches by scanning your body up and down. Or maybe he was checking you out, who knows?

“Uh, yeah. I think I’ll be fine.” You nodded, dusting off your pants. No scuffs on the expensive fabric, thank God. “Thanks for making sure I didn’t hit my head, by the way. Not everyone would do that.”

The man crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, giving you a questioning look. “You must work with some real assholes then. In my line of work, ladies don’t get treated like crap. At least the ones who everyone respects.”

“Seriously? Damn, that seems like a really good job.” You smiled at him, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“Eh…it has some setbacks. I won’t get into it now, too much bullshit to unpack here.” He bit the inside of his cheek, holding out his hand for you to shake. It was gloved, he seemed like a gentleman. Or maybe he just really didn’t like getting dirt on his hands.

You smiled and eagerly took his hand, looking into his subtly blue eyes. They really complimented his ginger hair and pale complexion, hell, he even looked like the main character in a popular romance novel.

“Chuuya Nakahara, at your service.” He smirked once more, letting go of your hand. He noticed that your hands were smaller than his own, in fact, you were actually smaller than he was. And that was rare, considering he was in close competition with most middle schoolers in the height category. “What’s your name? I wanna know the name of the women I saved from eating absolute shit.”

You giggled and told him your name, putting your hands in your pockets. Chuuya thought your giggle was sweet, like a song bird. It was a welcome sound in his life. After all, Chuuya was used to gunshots and screams instead of the giggling of a cute librarian with a name that fitted her oh so right.

“You got a cute name, y’know. Hope you don’t mind me sayin’ that.” Chuuya placed his hands in his pockets as well, fiddling with the lintballs in the corners of the expensive fabric.

The silent was quite awkward between the two of you. Chuuya, a secret mafia boss who’s experience with women was tainted with expensive red wine. And yourself, a librarian who was so introverted that the world could end and you’d jump for joy.

And yet, something brought the two of you out of your own little worlds and into each others? Was it love, perhaps? Unlikely. Chuuya thought that love at first sight was for suckers, and you thought that love at first sight only existed in movies.

No, there was only unspoken desires between you both. Heart rates quickening, blushes forming on your faces. Chuuya’s mind was racing, his thoughts plagued by images of you. He just met you but god were you sexy. That fucking thrifted turtleneck sweater contrasted hard with your expensive designer jeans that were no doubt a Christmas gift from a wealthy relative. You had no idea how to dress and Chuuya thought that was the most precious thing. Were you really that innocent, locked away in your own little world? You probably had no idea that your sweater hugged the curves of your tits perfectly, that your pants showed off your thighs so expertly. God, it drove Chuuya wild.

What did your lips feel like, so plump and perfect? Where they untained, fresh as snow? Or were you just putting on an act, secretly a vixen behind that innocent and soft stare? Chuuya didn’t know, but he just had to find out. The redhead had only just met you but holy fuck, you were simply perfect. He had to get a taste, even if it was the last thing he did.

“So what’s a pretty thing like you workin’ in a place like this? Do they pay you well or somethin’?” Chuuya asked, leaning against the metal shelving that held the American history collection.

You shook your head and sighed, placing a hand on your hip in frustration. “Unfortunately no, I could really use a raise.” You sighed, running a hand through your comically messy hair. “The only reason I can afford my apartment is that my parents left me quite a bit of money when I said I wanted to live on my own. I’m a lucky person, I guess.” You chuckled at the last bit, flashing Chuuya a smile that drove him crazy. He faked a cough to hide the obvious lump growing in his throat, a tinge of pink dusting his freckled face.

“Yeah, you really are lucky.” He took a step foreward, placing his thumb on your chin, tilting your head up ever so slightly so his eyes met your own. “And you’re really fucking pretty.” He whispered, taking his hand off your chin.

“O-oh, thank you.” You stammered, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked down at your feet. The Mary Jane’s you wore wree slightly scuffed, they always have been. It adds a bit of character, one could say. Chuuya smiled softly and adjusted his hat, taking a step back to give you space.

“Listen, I have work that I gotta get back to or else my boss will kill me. Can we meet up at your place after that. Y’know, only if ya want to. I’m no pusher.” He blushed at the last part, rubbing the back of his neck to avoid making direct eye contact with you. It was strange, Chuuya has always been smooth with the women he met in bars. So why were you making him so flustered? Maybe it was because unlike the girls he picked up before, you were innocent. Pure, like fresh snow.

You were taken aback by his flirtations, though they weren’t unwelcome. You stopped fidgeting with your fingers for a moment, biting down on the plumpness of your lower lip.

“What, cat got your tongue or something?” Chuuya grinned, proud of himself for his little joke.

N-no, well not exactly.” You mumbled, sucking in a deep breath so you could look at the devilishly handsome man in front of you. “I’ve, God this is embarrassing, I haven’t been on a date since college.” Sighing, you stared at the bookshelf next to you. “It’s pathetic, I know. I get if you aren’t interested in me anymore.”

Chuuya frowned and took his hands out of his pockets, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t give a fuck if you’ve been on zero dates or a million of them. That doesn’t matter. I asked if you wanted me to come over so I can fuckin’ cook for you.”

“You can cook?”

“What kind of world are you living in? Of course I cook, what kind of man can’t cook?” Chuuya pinched his temple with his fingers, silently cursing all the worlds incompetent men that drove the standard to decency so low that it was practically in hell. “Sorry, didn’t mean to shout at ya. Old habits.”

“Don’t worry about it, I deal with screaming children all day. You’re fine.” You smile, taking out your phone. “Here, put your number in and I’ll give you my address.”

Chuuya shook his head, a bead of sweat dripping from his brow. “Actually, um, my phone is broken right now. How about you just write it down for me, dollface?” He couldn’t risk putting your information into his phone, what if Mori was going through it? He could deem you a security risk and then only God knows what would happen. Chuuya wouldn’t risk it, he had to make sure you were okay with his…business before he did anything too personal like give you his contact information.

“Oh, sure. I guess giving you my number is too personal, sorry.” You awkwardly chuckled, leading him to the main library desk. You ripped off a sticky note from the pad and wrote down your address in pretty cursive letters. Chuuya smiled to himself as he saw your handwriting, it was the cutest fucking thing. You were absolutely a librarian, no doubt about it.

“So, see you at seven?” He asked, shoving the sticky note into his jacket pocket.

“Seven’s all right. What will you be making me?” You asked, beginning to type away at the library computer.

“It’s a surprise.” Chuuya winked at you, turning around and walking away. You blushed and resting your cheek on your hand. In your mind you were dancing in happiness, finally having landed a date. And such a good looking one at that. Who the hell cares if he’s short, he’s tall to you. Height doesn’t matter anyways.

Your shift ended and you practically skipped out of the library building, clutching onto the messenger bag that carried your erotic novels. The library didn’t carry anything erotic, you just disguisted the books with false covers about local history and lore. No one would be into that shit, so it was the perfect plan. The stories consisted of fantasy romances with sections that were so arousing that you couldn’t read it without thinking that you were committing some sort of sin.

Stepping up the stairs to your apartment, you opened the door and shut it quickly as to not attract any unwanted pests. Mostly bugs, they’ve become a real problem. What would Chuuya think if he saw a bug in your apartment? Your mind was speeding, anxiety building up in your belly. This was your first date in a while, what if you fuck it up somehow? Or worse, what if it goes too well and he wanted to have his way with you. Chuuya was too handsome to refuse sure, but what about you? You couldn’t even remember the last time you had sex, let alone kissed somebody? Oh God, what if that turned him off and he never spoke to you again?

“Dammit, snap out of it!” You slapped yourself across the face, hissing slightly at the pain. Putting yourself together, you strode over to your bedroom and pulled out a dress from way back in your closet. It was a decent length dress with spaghetti straps, your fanciest piece of clothing. The rest of your wardrobe consisted of sweatpants, tank tops with cartoon characters on it, the occasional designer jean, and several thrifted sweaters that had absolutely been worn by a grandfather.

The dress slipped onto you no problem, like a glove. You didn’t bother wearing any tights or stockings, the dress covered your legs up nicely. You decided to just leave your hair as it was, draped nicely around your shoulders. Light makeup here and there, if you could count mascara and lipgloss as makeup.

Exiting your bedroom, your hands dropped to their sids as you sat down on your living room sofa. There wasn’t anything good on the TV, and reading an erotic novel before Chuuya got there would have probably ruined the mood for you. Was getting ready too early a mistake? Maybe.

Your eyes watched the clock, your pupils going in circles as the second hand made its rotation over and over again until it was about 6:55PM. A knock was heard at your door, snapping you out of the cycle of clock-looking.

Squealing quietly, you speed-walked over to your door. Taking a deep breath in, you opened the door and there Chuuya stood, holding a bag of groceries in one hand and a singular red rose in the other. “Hey there pretty girl, mind if I come in?”

“O-of course, Chuuya. Uh, sorry.” You stammered, shutting the door as he let himself inside. Chuuya stood in the foyer of your apartment for a moment, quickly noticiny the hundreds of books the lined the shelves. “I don’t know why I’m so surprised doll, shoulda known you’re a huge nerd.” He chuckled, handing you the rose. His outfit was not too different from that afternoon, only the hat and the jacket were missing.

“Thank you, it’s really pretty.” You blushed, placing the rose in a nearby empty vase. “So, um, what are you making me tonight? I’m starving.” You led him into the kitchen, helping him set down the groceries on the counter.

“Kobe beef,” Chuuya said nonchalantly, looking around the kitchen. “Where are your knives? Don’t see em anywhere.”

“In that drawer right there- did you saya kobe beef?” You gasped, taking a step back. “B-but that’s really expensive! This is just a first date y’know, I would have accepted take out!” You stammered, not used to the treatment. Did he really just buy kobe beef for you? How much does he get paid?

“Yeah, what about it? You a vegetarian or something?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow, opening the beef from its luxurious packaging and placing it on the simple wooden cutting board.

“No, it’s just that…well kobe is really expensive and this is a first date! It’s not even at the nice restaurant or anything, it’s my fucking house!” You whisper-yelled at him, walking foreward so your face was inches away from your own. Your shyness was replaced with anxiety, anxiety that you really had no excuse to have.

Chuuya smiled and patted you on the head, rubbing on your hair with his gloved hand. “Don’t worry about that princess, just have a seat and let me cook for you, yeah?” He assured you, gesturing to your kitchen table. “And besides, you’re dressed up like a five course meal, so shouldn’t you be treated to one?” He smirked, finishing up the chopping of the beef. He figured out how to work your stove pretty quickly, placing the beef in a pan with a little bit of truffle oil. The stove roared to life as the beef began to quickly sizzle, a wonderful aroma that smelled like luxury filled your apartment.

You blushed at Chuuya’s comment, sitting yourself down in the chair. You watched him cook, his brows furrowed in concentration.

The beef was done cooking after a bit, being carefully plated with an array of incredibly looking vegetables. Chuuya sat across from you and took your hand in his own, kissing the back of yours tenderly.

“Bon appetit, princess.” He grinned at you, his eyes hiding a lust that was so extreme Asmodeous himself was jealous. He observed how you ate the beef so carefully, so tenderly. You savored each and every bite, sighing occasionally as the flavors hit your tongue over and over again. Chuuya bit his lip as he watched you eat, barely touching his own dinner. You looked absoltuely succulent in front of him, oblivious to how you were making him feel. Chuuya wanted to shove everything off the table and fuck you right then and there, but he decided to be a gentlemen about it. Dine you, maybe wine you, and only touch your pretty body if you wanted him too.

You finished your meal quickly, frowning to yourself at Chuuya’s full plate. “Are you not hungry or something?” You asked, ignoring the bits of beef resting at the corner of your mouth.

“I’m hungry for…something else.” Chuuya smirked, grabbing your dirty plate and placing it in the sink. He stepped over to you and took your hand, hoisting you up from your chair. Carefully, his arm wrapped around your waist so he could pull you in closer to his own form, his fingers running up and down your hip bone. “If you know what I mean.”

You blushed and slowly nodded your head, noticing how his perfect blue eyes seemed to have fireballs igniting within the azure pools. “I…I do. I just…I haven’t had sex in a while. Kind of goes hand-in-hand with the whole dating thing.” You awkwardly laughed to yourself, hoping a joke would lighten the tension.

“I could change that for you dollface, if you want me to.” Chuuya purred, tilting your chin up to his lips were just hovering above yours. “Just say the word sweetheart, and I’ll make you see stars.” He whispered, his hot breath touching your trembling lips.

You thought for a moment, your mouth still agape at Chuuya’s boldness. “...okay.” You breathed against his lips, mere centimeters away.

With your consent, Chuuya crashed his lips against yours. With one hand clutching ont your waist, the other cupped your face quite gently. His kiss was rough and passionate, groaning into your mouth at the sensation that he had so long been craving.

Your hands flew to grab onto his hair, tugging at the longer part. Chuuya moaned slightly at the sensation, squeezing the fabric of your dress. He pulled himself away slowly, choosing to instead attack the delicate flesh of your neck. His lips found your sweetspot and sucked harshly, your lips producing the cutest little moans which only made his cock harder. A bright purple hickey formed in no time at all, definitely going to last a few days.

“You wear turtlenecks, right? Shouldn’t be a fuckin’ problem then.” He growled against your neck, trialing molten kissed down until he reached your collarbone, playfully licking it.

“M-maybe we should go to the bedroom? Comfier.” You managed to squeak out, softly moaning as Chuuya continued to nip and kiss at your collarbone. He pulled away, grumbling at the loss of contact.

“Good idea dollface, smart.” He lifted you up bridal style, chuckling as you squealed. “You’re so fuckin’ adorable baby, y’know that?” He asked, kicking open the door to your bedroom. He practically threw you onto the bed and pounced, pinning your wrists above your head quickly. Chuuya slammed his lips against yours once more, shoving his tongue down your throat as your teeth clashed for dominance.

Taking a break from the onslaught of tongue-on-tongue, Chuuya gently stroked your face with his still-gloved hand. “Fucking good mouth you got, sweetheart.” He purred, shifting himself so he was looking at your hips. “Now tell me,” His hand reached to his mouth, peeling off his gloves with his teeth. “Do you want my fingers or my tongue first, princess?”

You gulped nervously, your face feeling like it was going to explode at any moment from how fucking horny you were for this man. Your legs were practically shaking under him, how was it possible that one man could make you feel euphoria without fucking you?

“B-both, please…” You whispered, not daring to look into his aflamed blue eyes that burned for you. Your aroused pooled in your belly, just waiting to be taken care of.

Chuuya nodded approvingly, lifting your dress up to reveal your panties that were soaked in your arousal. “Fuckin’ dirty girl, so perfect for me.” He whispered, hastily removing your panties and tossing them into some corner of your bedroom. He shivered at the sight of your glistening core, admiring how otherworldly it looked in the dim lights of your bedroom.

“Shit,” Chuuya groaned, gathering some of your slick on his fingertips before carefully inserting his index and middle finger inside of your sobbing cunt. He wasted no time in curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting them back and forth swiftly.

“Oh fuck, oh my God!” You cried out, throwing your head back even further into the soft pillows beneath you. Your legs wanted so badly to wrap around his hand, trapping him there for a while.

“That’s it baby, scream for me. Fuckin’ scream for me princess.” He growled, his lips sucking on your clit roughly. His tongue lapped and sucked at your desperate folds, fingers pumping in and out of you like he was in a competition. He could feel your walls sucking him in, knowing your orgasm was close.

“Fucking cum for me baby, lemem hear those pretty moans of yours!” Chuuya demanded, eating you out like a starved man.

“Oh fuck, Chuuya!” You screamed out his name as your orgasm finally hit, the knot in your belly becoming undone too fast for your own liking. You wish that moment could last forever instead of mere moments.

Gasping and panting, you propped yourself up by your elbows to be greeted with a chuckling Chuuya, licking off your cum with his expert tongue. “You taste so much better than anything I’ve ever fucking had before princess.” He spoke, his voice low and sultry.

Chuuya briefly got off the bed to take off his pants and boxers, gasping as the air of your bedroom hit his throbbing cock. He relished in your shocked expression, your mouth left hanging wide open at the sight of him.

“What, never seen a big dick before?” He chuckled, getting on top of you once more. He lifted your legs up so they rested on his shoulders, giving him the most perfect angle to fuck you seneless.

“Not in a while, no.” You retorted, offering Chuuya a smirk of your own. That one simple movement of your facial muscle was all it took for him to align his cock with your entrance, slamming it inside of you.

“That was so fucking hot babe, do it again.” He demanded, pounding himself into your core without giving you any time to adjust to his length or girth. His hands gripped the undersides of your thighs, occasionally smacking the subble skin.

“Ngh, h-holy fuck! Chuuya, shit! So fucking big, oh my fucking God!” You cried out, your hands making desperate motions to grab onto anything. Chuuya bent down, pushing you into a mating press so he could better hold your hand.

“Shit, fucking scream my name babygirl. Fuck, you’re squeezing on to me so damn tight!” He groaned into your ear, his balls snapping against your ass over and over again. Your cheeks were flushed, mouth gaping open. All that left your lips were wanton moans and cries of pleasure as Chuuya’s cock hit your G-spot over and over again, the pleasure once again pooling in your belly.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit, I’m close! Chuuya, fuck!” You screamed, slamming your lips upwards onto his own. He happily accepted the kiss, biting down onto your lower lip as he felt your cunt contract around his soaked cock.

“Fuck, can you hold out just a little longer baby? Wan’ cum with you, yeah?” He whined against your lips, furiously meeting his hips with your own as the scent of sex and longing filled the bedroom.

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!” You cried into his ear, not sure how much longer you could stand to not fall into your orgasm.

He growled against your neck, his thrusts becoming staggered and desperate in a relentless tempo as Chuuya’s own orgasm approached him. “Shit, gonna fucking cum. Cum with me yeah, please fucking come with me!”

A silent scream left your lips as euphoria enveloped your body, wave after wave of ecstasy hitting you as your orgasm finally came. Your arousal squeezed and coated Chuuya’s cock, sending him over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my God! Fuck…” He gapsed into your neck, his ministrations slowing down until they came to a complete stop. He collapsed onto you, lazily kissing your neck and the hickeys that covered it.

You smiled, peeling the sweaty hairs away from your face as you embraced Chuuya in your arms. “That was…just like the books I read.” You chuckled, running your fingers through his mess of red hair. “Almost exactly like those books, actually.”

Chuuya looked up from your breast and raised an eyebrow, flipping you around so you were now embraced in his arms. “You read porn?”

You nodded, gesturing to your nightstand. “Yeah, I try to keep it a secret though. My coworkers would never let me live it down if they knew the truth.” You gave him a crooked smile, curling further into his chest.

He nodded in understanding, kissing your forehead. “Well, we gotta do this again princess. Because that was…well it was fuckin’ amazing. Who knew the cute little librarian was so dirty?” He joked, poking your cheek teasingly.

“I literally just let you finish inside of me and you’re making jokes?”

“Hey, I’m allowed to be funny. I’m a fuckin’ sex god.”

You sighed and kissed his lips, feeling your eyes grow heavy with sleep. “Y’know, I don’t have work tomorrow if you wanted to stay the night…” You yawned, embracing the feeling of coziness and warmth.

Chuuya was a bit shocked by your words at first, smacking his lips together. He smiled down at you, ruffling up your nest of a hair that was no doubt caused by his body moving against yours for a good twenty minutes. “I’d really like that, princess.” He assured you, grabbing his phone from your nightstand to type something in. “Just lettin’ my boss know I’ll be late for my assignment tomorrow.”

“What if he gets mad at you?” You asked, your sleepy voice filled with just a pinch of concern.

“Well, he can suck my dick for all I care. Although, I’d much rather have you do that.” He winked, throwing the covers above your sweaty forms. “So, are you going to get changed or are we sleeping in our date night clothes?”

“Mm, date night clothes. I don’t think I’ll be able to fucking walk after what you did to me.” You laughed, pulling Chuuya closer. You rested your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat through the expensive shirt he wore. “Have sweet dreams, okay? And…pleae be here when I wake up tomorrow.” You whispered the last part before drifting off, the cutest little snore escaping from your parted lips.

Chuuya sighed and kissed the top of your head, admiring how innocent you looked in your slumber. “I promise beautiful, I’m not going anywhere.”

#bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #bsd x you #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara smut #bsd x reader smut

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poopersdoopers · 2 days

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Lil Family w/ Gojo, Megumi, and Reader

A lil Gojo jojo drabble/imagine with Reader and Megumimi. No beta. No edits/proof reading either so feel free to skip or enjoy.

Imagine getting to meet Gojo and his son for the first time. He'd stand proudly side by side with his lil side kick -Megumi. Who'd pout at the "Stupid nickname", his words not mine and instantly be in a mood. While Gojo laughs at his human black cat, mussing up his hair and saying, "Alright, it's time to meet your future mama."

You would frizzle instantly --blushing at Gojo's comment. Your face matching Megumi's incredulous face. Before the kid's jaw could snap back into place, you burst out a laugh at your similarity in expression. Megumi blushes deeper, before scowling down at the ground and crossing his little arms in protest.

What a little old man? He couldn't be older than what, seven or eight?

That made you laugh harder and Gojo would go on to tease Megumi even more.

You decides to rescue the kid, "Hi Megumi-chan, I'm (y/n). It's nice to meet you. Gojo-kun has told me a lot about you!"

"Don't act so familiar with me", his frown deepened and his blush deepened, "If you're friends with Gojo, you must be a freak too."

"Ahhh...Megumi....don't be so harsh", his guardian responded, "you've wanted to meet her all this time."

"No!", he looked away from the white haired-man.

"It's okay Megumi-chan, I'm the one who really wanted to meet you the most."

The little old man holds firmly in his stance. Arms hugging tighter to his 4 foots frame.

You crouched down, to look up at him, "I even wanted to meet your dogs. I heard you've been working hard to keep their coats extra luxurious."

His arms soften up slightly. Gojo pretends his heart isn't beating wildly in his chest, as he stares down as you adoringly. Secretly he was hoping his little guy could be coaxed out of his untrusting nature. Even just for a little while. It wasn't his fault that every adult the lil sea urchin met failed him. It instilled a wall, that took the white haired man, six months to begin cracking down and a year to even hear the word "Dad" from kid.

If this meeting didn't go well, there would always be more opportunities to make a good impression. But if Megumi did not like you at all, Gojo would end the relationship then and there. Nothing came between him and his son, even if the grumpy lil man didn't believe it himself. You knew it too. That's part of the reason why you fell for the white-haired man.

He seemed to be all jokes and frivolous charm but as soon as you looked in heart a little more, you saw a lonely man trying his best to connect to a world that didn't understand him. You wanted to learn more, beyond his childish nature and fowl jokes. You'd have to earn Megumi's trust and a little bit more of Gojo's heart, before you could come bursting in full speed to their little family. So, you took a deep breath and tried again.

"Gojo-kun's told me about how you incorporate dry and wet foods into their bowls. Kuro and Shiro's coats always look so nice and shiny the photo's he shows me."

Megumi's arms loosen just a little bit more.

"He actually, told me something gross too", you giggled behind your manicured nails. Gojo's eyebrows arching in surprise.

"What?", the sea urchin whips his head around fast, "That guy's always spouting out some nonsense!"

You couldn't help but agree, smiling up at your lanky lover.

"HUH?!" Gojo replies.

"He told me....he told me that you feed them raw eggs and carrots."

"HUH?!" father and son look incredulously at each other, then turn to you.

"I can't imagine that'd taste good", you pout, "Unless Gojo's lying. I'd have to see it to believe it."

"Of course he is! Gojo's always up to something", he grabs to pull you with him,"I'll show you how I do it myself".

"Okay, boss you got it," you saluted to your 4-foot general, as he slide a screen door and stepped into their backyard.

"Ch- you even say weird phrases like him, no wonder he likes you".

"HUH?!"

You laughed again at the antics between the young father and son.

That day you spent most of the afternoon playing with Shiro and Kuro. Learning about their dog breed -Akita/Husky mix. Their eating habits, Shiro loved to graze by her bowl all day and Kuro loved to eat after sniffing her food approximately 12 times -- Yes, Megumi has counted her sniffs through this process a million times. Gojo had injected to recount the lil sea urchin's scientific process: yellow stop watch and notepad in hand. His face deeply serious. You tried not to laugh for 30 seconds before giving in.

You finally found your second favorite pastime after finding things to tease Gojo about, teasing old man Megumi.

By the late afternoon, Gojo had rounded his little family up. Urging them towards dinner plans, he apparently made without telling you both. Classic, Gojo. But hey he's paying so you couldn't complain.

Throughout dinner, you'd learn more about the two. Gojo was incredibly observant towards his son and in turn your sea urchin was equally observant, whipping sauce from his silly man's face.

"Dad you should eat more vegetables, you can't just eat sweets all day and think you'll be healthy."

"Ehh...but I'll die without ice cream Megumi-chan~. Besides it's my lil treat for getting up so early", he slurped on his vanilla ice cream like a tornado. How was it possibly for someone to do something so bizarre and still be so cute?

"I told you to stop eating ice cream like that that, it's embarrassing. Besides, you woke up at 12 pm. I had to take the dogs out by myself again."

You smirked at your taller counter part, "Oh really, I thought you had to get up extra-early to make sure everything was perfect for my arrival today?" You batted your eyelashes extra hard.

"12 pm on a Sunday is early for me, you guys".

It was Megumi and your time to laugh at your overgrown baby.

He could only look down at your cute faces, and smile softly. He could finally relax. His little sea urchin actually like you.

The look of adoration towards you could not be missed by Megumi's all seeing eyes of scorn, "What's up with that freaky face you're making?"

"Oh nothing", Gojo's hums, "Just thinking to myself."

@sanjisflatass I dedicate this fluff fest to you my sweetest sweetie pie and fluffiest fluff filled friend <3 mwah

#poopersdoopers writes a fic #poopersdoopers thinks a thing #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #megumi is goji's son and partner in crime!!! even if it's against his will!!!#maybe I will write an actual fluffy fic from this instead of just drabbling and blah blah blazing

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sunnitheapollokid · 3 days

Text

🏎️ ˖*°࿐ CP 2, indirect grease-kisses.

🎤 mc’s notes : ANDDD we are back!!! may have to update this just every once a week, because LORD y’all know i can’t keep up LMAAAOOO but anyway. I MADE THIS ONE EXTRA LONG,, but i’m definitely gonna add more leo moments i swear. THIS WAS TO ADD TO THE PLOT!! so much love on racer au thank you so much you guys!! 🥹 see you next time, sunkisses! 💝

🏎️ ˖*°࿐

THERE WAS no way in hell leo was going to let (name) win this tour. why? oh, let me list them all out for ya’ yeah?

first of, she’s a girl. leo has a big ego. we been knew. second, he needed to get back on his streak. a familiar tap on his shoulder made him snap back into reality, his curls falling into the frames of his face as he locked eyes with percy's green ones. percy furrowed his brows and scrunched his face at leo's distraught expression.

"dude, what is up with you?" percy laughed lightly mid-sentence, keeping his hand on leo's shoulder. leo sighed heavily, finally looking away from the son of poseidon and ran his fingers through his hair. "nothin's up with me." leo shot, a little more harshly then he intended to.

percy only rolled his eyes, patting his back with his palm before going to find his own girl to worry about.

today was (name)'s and leo's second race together. the thought of leo getting beaten to her lingered longer than it should've in his head. it made him fidgety, agitated. the adhd in him was kicking in like 100 miles per hour.

he knew he needed to win. no matter what it possibly took.

🏎️ ˖*°࿐

UNLIKE LEO, (name) only cared about having a fun time on the track. the loved the people she could share it with, the people that got the time to watch her actually race. she beamed brightly amongst the crowd of paparazzi and fans as she gripped the pen in her hand to sign autographs.

she made her way to the track, wiping the dirt off her car. she wiped bead of sweat off her forehead before fixing her hair in the mirror.

"(nickname)." she jumped. "annie!" (name) snorted, the twinkling smile practically never leaving the corners of her lips. "what in the horror movie??" she asked the girl, who had her hands on her hips. annabeth shot her a glare, "what in olympus' name did you do to leo valdez?!" she whisper-yelled. (name) gave out a puzzled expression. "leo? nothing, why would you ask a question?" the name that she'd said, slipping out of her lips like honey, like it was sweet and tangible to say.

and annabeth could tell.

"don't play games with me little miss sunshine. they guy's been dazing the whole time we got to la." annabeth whispered louder, she looked concerned. (name) grew worried, the churning of her stomach becoming nostalgic to her when leo had first gotten to camp half-blood.

she raised her hands in defense, "i'm telling the truth!" annabeth let out a grumble before their conversation was cut off by an announcement by the mc. when the static-spoken voice was done, annabeth turned to (name) again. "talk to him."

(name) now mirrored her scrunched up brows. "annie, you know i can't do that. i stumble over my fucking words like i had them for breakfast- and then realizing i had food poisoning." annabeth was a little confused at the metaphor, choosing to ignore it.

"i don't even know why you do. the guy's smitten for you." annabeth toned her voice lower. (name) rolled her eyes, annabeth had always told her leo reciprocated the same feelings she'd have for him ever since day one. realizing that (name) wouldn't give in so easily, she made a deal. (name) was one for deals. competition. the chase. the race?

the light blue racer pulled her into a darker corner of the track, away from paparazzi and fans. "want to bet?" (name) cocked a brow, her arms tucked away in annabeth's grasp. but she grew intruiged, "what's the bet?" annabeth gave a mischievous smile, "talk to him. if he's not into you, you get to do races outside of camp half-blood franchise. isn't that what you've always wanted?"

(name) eyes twinkled. "and if he is?" she tilted her head. annabeth gave her a dead-panned expression. "seriously (nickname)? then you get leo!"

oh. she knew that. duh.

🏎️ ˖*°࿐

LEO STAYED back in the boys' lounge for a bit before the race. he needed to recollect his thoughts. he drank the bitter drink in his hand, non-alcoholic, but he hoped that it'd help his mind from spinning around her.

there was a surprising knock on the door. he quickly picked himself up, his shoes knocking on the floor as he twisted the door open, "(name)?" he greeted, more of a question than a friendly gesture. she tugged her lips into a grin. "hey lee. you busy?" she moved her feet to walk inside.

the boys lounge looked like any boy-occupied space. there were car magazines and glass cups, as well as extra pillows for extra big naps. numerous black couches in the middle of the room, of course, the giant window that overlooked the track. she could see her car beside his.

"everything okay? something with your car?" leo tucked his hands in his pockets as he leaned on the door with his back. (name)'s heart practically paced. yet, so was leo's. but he was better at hiding it. "my car? no, no." she shook her head as she sat down on the leather chair. leo's eyebrows raised, sitting beside her in his usual spot.

"so.. then, what brings you in here? to gloat? maybe admire me?" he gave a subtle wink, but (name) was too preoccupied by the glass beside him. "what's that?" she pointed, completely dodging the question. the perked up curiosity made him chuckle. he handed it to her, "you can try it if you want."

she held the half-full cup, she swirled it, it looked just like regular apple juice. but she beg to differ. she took a whiff of the drink. it smelled, sharp. she gave out a dissatisfied look that brunette chuckled louder at. "what's wrong? can't take to drink?"

(name) could practically melt at his voice. "aren't you like.. sixteen? why are you drinking?" she still laced her fingers on the fragile cup. "it's non-alcoholic, luz solar." she figured. then taking a sip out of it like it was natural. it was definitely bitter. but it didn't taste anywhere near alcoholic.

but, metallic. it tasted like the scent of metals and grease. could it be?

🏎️ ˖*°࿐ end of cp 2.

#— sunni adores leo (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡#leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez fic #leo valdez pjo #leo valdez fanfic #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

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