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#THERE ARE BUTTERFLIES IN MY STOMACH OH GOD THIS IS TOO GOOD
jpbpxma · 2 days
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pour some sugar on in me;
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content warnings/tags: very nsfw, contains smut, breeding kink, pre/no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, age gap (as you want it).
It originally started off as a scare. You both got drunk after a New Year's party and ended up having a passionate night of sex- without protection, leading you to think you've gotten pregnant. Although it's been a year and a half since you got married, it had been a mutual agreement that kids were not in your future plans; Joel, thinking he might be too old for it and you, just not wanting that type of burden/responsibility in your life. However, when you found out you were not, in fact, pregnant, Joel found himself oddly disappointed and told you about it. "I dunno, it just felt nice to think of having a little one running around, being all cute 'n all," he had said. Surprising yourself, you agreed with him. So you decided to officially to start trying. And now, he couldn't get enough.
He's never been able to have sex with you raw like this before so every chance he could get, he found himself getting worked up and ended up taking you right then and there, no matter where you were or what time is was. Whether it's right when you woke up in the morning, when you were in the shower, when you were in the car, in the kitchen, and even a few times when you were in public. Not that you were complaining, you were enjoying it as much as Joel was. You loved the feeling of intimacy and you were constantly in a state of post-orgasm bliss.
"Hey, what you up to? " You hear Joel say from behind you, shuffling closer to put his arms around your shoulders and rest his chin on your head. "Finishing this dreadful assignment, why? " You question him, raising an eyebrow. "No reason, you're just looking really sexy right now," he hums as he places a kiss on the top of your head. "Joel, I'm literally in an oversized sweater and pajamas," you deadpan, even though you felt butterflies at his words. Ignoring you, he massages your shoulders under your sweater, his touch as electrifying to you as it was the first time. When you involuntarily let out a soft moan at a particularly sensitive spot, he reaches over to close your laptop and spins your chair around.
"Okay, that's it. You're coming with me," he announces. Before you realize what's happening, he has you in his arms, carrying you over his shoulder to your bedroom. He smacks your ass hard, making you yelp, before throwing you down on the bed. "You're crazy," you laugh out. "Uh yeah, crazy for you, baby," he counters, clearly proud of his comeback. God, he was such a dad already. He chuckles when you roll your eyes, taking his shirt and shorts off in the process. Now that you were in bed and after seeing those delicious arms, thighs, just everything of his on display, you were definitely getting in the mood too.
You run your fingers up his soft tummy, getting up to kiss along the little hairs that lead down his happy trail, smirking when you feel him let out a shaky breath. You pull down his boxers, his already stiff cock springing free, hitting his stomach. Licking your lips, you get closer to take him in your mouth when he pulls you back by the hair to meet his eyes. "Maybe another time, baby girl, right now I need to be inside you," he says impatiently, pushing you back into the bed before taking your pajamas and panties off.
Climbing on top of you, he cages you in his arms, kissing you fervently. You kiss back with the same intensity, your hands on either side of his face to hold him in place. He pulls away from the kiss, pressing one more peck to your lips before lifting himself up to slide between your spread legs. You can feel every ridge and vein of his length as he pushes into you- you could never get used to how much more pleasurable it felt uninhibited by a condom. "Oh my-" he grunts in a low voice, you know it feels worlds better for him too, "Fuck, you feel so good, baby." You squeeze around him at the compliment, biting your lip to muffle your moans.
"Joel, please, move already," you whine desperately. He takes your ankle and hooks your leg over his shoulder, shifting closer and pushing in to bottom out completely. You watch, enraptured, as he pulls out to the tip, and slams back into you. You cry out, gripping the bedsheets tightly as he smirks, pleased with your reaction. He sets a fast pace right off the bat, hips working into overdrive as he fucks you the way he knew both of you liked.
The only sounds resonating through the room were the sounds of skin slapping and the moans and groans you were both letting out. At this angle, he connects with your clit with each thrust. You wiggle your hips just a little and he hits it square on and that's when you really scream. "Oh fuck, you like it that much? " Joel asks earnestly. The corner of his mouth lifts smugly when you nod frantically, slowing down a bit to make his thrusts hit your sweet spot more accurately.
You're beside yourself with pleasure, he knew exactly how to get you to your peak and in the most ecstasy-filled way possible. He could tell you were close by the sounds you were making, lowering himself down, still slamming just as hard into you. He messily kisses your neck, your jaw, then moves up to nibble on your earlobe, whispering, "Want me to fill you to the brim with my cum and then fuck it all back into you again? Want to get pregnant with my children? Be my good little baby maker, hm? You'd like that, wouldn't you? "
His words combined with his thrusting send you careening over the edge and you convulse without warning, orgasm washing over you as you grip his shoulders for support. You clench around him involuntarily and he's so caught off guard by your sudden orgasm that he's sent over the edge into his, too. You feel his cum, hot inside you, pumping into you with every thrust. Joel is still deep inside of you as he finishes, his hands caressing all up and down your body.
"Well shit, we're really good at this, aren't we? " You nod, still out of breath and voice lost from all the screaming. He snorts at your inability to reply verbally but hums and bites along your neck as he nestles himself deeper into you and gathers you in his arms. "My beautiful girl, I don't think we're going to have any problem having kids." You couldn't help but smile. You didn't think you are, either.
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sugurubabe · 3 hours
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Too Sweet
suguru geto x reader | nsfw | mdni | public sex | car sex | oral sex | light degradation | not beta read |
Bassist!Suguru who was just looking to get high before his gig that his band booked when he saw you in line by the door. Your brilliant smile, sharply lined eyes, and glossy lips shimmered under the streetlights as you talked excitedly to your friends. Your curves were on full display in that tight black mini skirt, ripped fishnet stockings, and little bustier top. You knew you looked good, that much was obvious. Suguru was intrigued. He knew he could take you home if he played his cards right.
Bassist!Suguru who locked eyes with you as he and his bandmates were setting up their instruments and equipment for their set. He smirks at you when he catches your heated glances at him. Throwing a quick wink your way, he turns back to his bandmates as they do a quick mic and sound check. The butterflies in your stomach were incessant as you wondered who this gorgeous man was.
Bassist!Suguru who introduced his band as "Curse Manipulators", grinning devlishly at the crowd who cheers his band on. His voice was deep and velvety, instantly making your pussy weep. His golden eyes were pinned onto you as he quickly threw his hair up into a disheveled bun. Pieces of dark locks framed his sharp face, only bringing more attention to his handsome features. You took a shaky breath as you watched this gorgeous man take up his bass.
Bassist!Suguru who expertly and deftly plucks the strings of his bass, his long and slender fingers working to create the most intricate rhythm. His expression is one of concentration, his brow furrowed, and his lower lip caught between his teeth as he plays. He is absolutely enchanting under the club lights. You're mesmerized.
Bassist!Suguru who blows kisses to the wild girls at the front of the crowd when the set ends. He feels your irritated glare, knowing you're standing there feeling neglected as he poses for selfies with the little groupies by the stage. Silly girl. He's already made his mind up to take you home, didn't you know this, sweetheart?
Bassist!Suguru who approaches you at the bar as the next band in the lineup begins playing. You turn your nose up at him, still offended by the attention he gave the girls who approached him after his band's set. "Go entertain your little fans." you sneer at him, pouting slightly. He chuckles at your attitude, placing a large hand on your waist. "I came straight to you when I got off stage, didn't I, baby?" He sees the blush that blooms across your cheeks and creeps down your neck. He's got you right where he wants you.
Bassist!Suguru who soon after your encounter at the bar, has you outside and pinned against the back wall. His palms grip your face firmly as he kisses you, devouring your mouth with his lips and tongue. Oh god, his tongue, with that venom piercing on it stimulates you deliciously. His knee is in between your thighs, rubbing against your clothed clit perfectly. You can do nothing but pant and whine as he takes the lead and you grab onto his sculpted arms for dear life.
Bassist!Suguru who looks around quickly to see if anyone is around before kneeling before you, lifting your skirt over your thighs. You yelp in surprise and try to bring him back up to face level with you, but he swats your hands away. "I have a wet spot on my jeans that says you're a good girl who's gonna let me eat that slutty pussy right now. I'm not wrong, am I, pretty? You're not gonna disappoint me, are you?" You breathe in deeply before nodding, trying to stifle your embarrassment as he rips a large hole into your fishnets. He groans as he sees the tiny g-string you chose to wear that night. "Little slut knew she was gonna get fucked tonight, didn't she? Let me think you wore this for me, hmm?" he says breathily before spreading your pussy lips apart.
Bassist!Suguru who nearly blows his load when he sees how fucking drenched you are for him. Your folds glisten in the dim light, and your clit is puffy and swollen with need. He looks right into your eyes as he sticks his pierced tongue out and takes a good, long swipe right from your entrance and up to your clit.
Bassist!Suguru who chuckles quietly against you when you cry out at his tongue laving at your folds. You quickly slap a hand over your mouth when you realize how fucking loud you're being. "Don't you have any shame, pretty girl? I don't want every guy inside to hear the way you moan for me, angel. So, shut the fuck up, you can take it."
Bassist!Suguru who eats your pussy like he's trying to carve a space inside for himself. He's moving his head from side to side, sucking at your clit and stroking it with the tiny piercings on his tongue. He brings his middle and ring finger up to your sopping entrance and slides them right in with no resistance. "She's sloppy f'me, baby. She wants me so fuckin' bad." he groans as he curls his long fingers inwards, stimulating your sweet spot. You're hiccuping and mewling as you grab handfuls of his long hair, bucking your hips into his face.
Bassist!Suguru who feels like he's died and gone to heaven when you pull on his hair with no restraint, too absorbed with your own pleasure to care for his comfort. He feels your slick walls tightening around his fingers as he works you up to your release. "That's a good girl, come on. Cum for me, baby. Wanna lap up all that sweet cum." he coos softly as he sucks your clit with increasing pressure, his fingers keeping their fast pace as they slide in and out of you.
Bassist!Suguru who finishes unexpectedly in his pants the moment he hears your sweet voice break as you come undone. His eyes are trained on your face, his pupils blown wide as he watches the rosy flush on your cheeks and your full lips part. You cum without caring how you look or sound, not hiding your face as you look down at him.
Bassist!Suguru who is utterly ruined by you. He quickly fixes your skirt and stands up, taking your hand into his as he leads you hastily to his car. "Spend the night with me. I think I'll die if I can't feel that slutty pussy grip on my cock properly while I fuck you." he nearly whines.
-
A/N: I'll write a part two for this soon, I just didn't want it to be too long! 💕
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tojisun · 6 months
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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8ByaKXv/
BIKER!SIMON BIKER!SIMON OMG OMG THIS IS SO HIM PLS IM ACTUALLY SOBBING CAUSE I KNOW HE WOULD DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS😭
IM???? LOSING MY MIND???? THIS IS THE SWEETEST IM ACTUALLY SCREAMING the fact that this is the same couple with the handsy backpack is making me vibrate because theyre so fucking cute!!!!!
the helmet bump n then the helmet kiss- oh im so unwell. no yea this is soooo biker!simon
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the way it was a spur of the moment until simon sees your wide eyes from behind the helmet, watching him with so much reverence that he realizes you love this :(( so he does it more and does it often.
simon pulls you in through your belt loop, biting his smile at seeing the way you have to tilt your head up, and he knows that you do it so you can see him from behind the helmet but he can’t help but interpret it as you asking for a kiss.
so he does: he bends forward and bumps your helmets together, nuzzling softly like a bunny-kiss, until laughter finally slips from his lips at seeing you blinking at him dazedly. confused at first, then later becoming eager.
you raise your arm to keep holding onto him, not wanting to let go, and simon coos as he repeats the action, this time tapping the mouth of his helmet on yours. he is addicted to the way your face brightens up behind your visor, how your eyes crinkle as you giggle at your helmets kissing.
yeah. this is simon’s favourite thing now.
the first time he does it in front of his friends, he hears kyle sigh and watches as johnny groans before walking away, stomping theatrically as he curses in scottish. simon’s been with johnny enough to know that he’s telling them how worse you and simon have gotten; how he’s sure that simon will never stop ‘kissing’ you now.
simon flips him off even though he’s right.
because if simon couldn’t stop kissing you when you two are off-road, what more now when he’s got you as his little, handsy backpack?
-
from: soap
> But you know I was just joking right? Because I was. You two are cute.
to: soap
We know. <
aww thank u johnny!! <
That was from my girl. <
from: soap
> I could tell. You’re not that sweet to me.
to: soap
Fuck off. <
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ln444 · 6 months
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★ how does f1 drivers react when you call them pretty. . .
norris, piastri, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russell, verstappen
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cw: fluff, slight suggestive (verstappen), f!reader.
now playing: pretty boy by the neighborhood
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✹ lando norris
lando would be the type to act annoyed but absolutely loves it. he just won't admit it but you know it.
"hey, pretty boy", you whisper against his lips, leaving a sweet peck on it just to be met with a pouty and flustered lando. "i told you to stop calling me that!" he whines, but deep down he hopes that you'll never stop. you look at him with a playful smile, softly caressing his hair. "okay, i'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable", you wait impatiently for his reaction and as you excepted, lando start to panic. "i mean... you can but you know... just not in front of other people", he laughs nervously, hoping that his excuse is good and his cheeks start heating up. you can't help but laugh softly, pulling him close by the neck and lando pouts again, "stop making fun of me!", your smile softens and you plant another kiss on his lips, "sorry, you're just too cute, my pretty boy". lando's cheeks are now completely red and he tries to hide it by pulling you in a long and warm kiss, feeling the butterflies going crazy in his stomach.
✹ oscar piastri
oh my god, please don't do this to him. as soon as he hears the word, his brain starts malfunctioning.
"you did so good!", oscar pulls you for a warm hug, holding you as tight as he can. he loves seeing you after races and hearing how proud you are of him no matter what he do. you pull out, staring at him like his eyes holds stars and oscar can't help but feel overwhelmed by all the adoration he sees in your eyes. you put your hand on his cheek, stroking it softly. "i'm so proud of you, my pretty boy" and even though you mean it, a hint of teasing can be heard and oscar groans, pulling you in a new hug to hide his face in your neck "if you call me that again, i think i'm gonna die" he mumbles against your skin. you laughs, one of your hands slides in his messy curls, your fingers playing with it. you will never get over how cute your boyfriend is when you call him pretty.
✹ charles leclerc
he absolutely loves it and won't deny it, even if he gets a bit shy when you call him pretty. he can't control it, his heart gets warm and the butterflies in his stomach goes crazy.
you were getting ready for a cute date and charles was wearing a new shirt, with flowers on it. as soon as he's ready, you lock your arms around his neck and you look at him with a big smile on your face. after planting a sweet peck on his lips, one of your hands cup his cheek. "you're so pretty, baby", your voice is full of adoration and honesty and charles' smiles gets wider. "thank you, chérie", he says softly and he immediately pulls you for a gentle kiss, hoping that you didn't notice the way his cheeks has redden, but you didn't miss it.
✹ carlos sainz
he loves it, like really loves it. he finds it funny tbh. and he won't hesitate to give the word back to you.
"woah, what a pretty boy", you look at him showing you his brand new haircut. he laughs, posing in front of you a little more before joining you on the sofa, pulling you on his lap and placing a kiss on your nose. "got pretty for my pretty girl, we are such a pretty couple", you both giggles before sharing a kiss, laughing and smiling against each other's lips. but, even if he doesn't want to admit it, carlos can feel his heart beating a bit faster and a sweet feeling in his stomach when he hears you call him pretty.
✹ lewis hamilton
he would get so shy, make it seems like he doesn't like it and it annoys him but he can't hide it for long, he always ends up with a big smile on his face and a heart beating faster than it should.
"ahhh, stop it y/n", he whines as you continue to leave kisses all over his face, sitting on his lap. "but, you're so pretty!", you say, cupping his cheeks to look at him in the eyes. he groans, acting annoyed by pulling you out of his lap and you try your best to fight the smile creeping on your lips. you both know that he's just flustered and wants to hide his red cheeks. "come on, baby, let me finish my kisses", he doesn't fight you when you climb back on his lap but he crosses his arms, trying to hold onto his character and you laugh softly, going back to leaving small pecks all over his face. it doesn't take long before he finally smiles, his hands finding your waist to pull you close and kiss you back. he just can't resist you.
✹ george russell
he always tries to ignore the way it makes him feel and act unbothered but he can't fight the way his body warm and a smile instinctively forms on his lips. he just loves getting praised by you.
"baby, can you pass me the knife, please?" you ask, preparing the vegetables and george, who has been helping and watching you cook for an hour now, hand you the knife as fast as he can. you turn to face him, placing your free hand on his neck to pull him close, "thank you, pretty boy", you says softly and he places a kiss on your lips, smiling softly "you're welcome" he says, trying to sound as neutral as he can and you pout, acting disappointed, "what? you don't like when i call you that?", you know that he do. you just want to hear it. he looks at you, a playful smile forms on his lips. "i know what you're doing", he chuckles and pulls you for another kiss. you end up both laughing, george's heart feeling full.
✹ max verstappen
he gets all nervous and doesn't know how to act anymore. like, if you want to make a mess of this man, just call him pretty.
max have been acting flirty all day, enjoying teasing you and seeing you all flustered in front of other people. you tried your best to keep your cool all day, playfully punching him from time to time or just laughing it off. but when you two end up alone at the end of the day, you're finally able to get your revenge. you start making out, getting more and more touchy and needy. "take off your shirt, pretty boy", you whisper in his ear, and max almost startle. a playful smile forms on your lips and you don't even have to look at him to know that his cheeks are now red. after a good minute of no reaction from him, you finally meet his eyes, giving him a confused look. "is everything okay?", you try to hide your teasing tone but max doesn't miss it, a playful grin finally forming on his lips and he chuckles; "naughty girl".
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animexts · 8 months
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BETTER THAN MEAT
Sumarry: Luffy discovers that his favorite smell is no longer the smell of meat.
OPLA!Luffy X Reader
Warnings: I think none, I just hope it gives you butterflies in your stomach lol
A/N: You asked me for this so much and here it is, it's horrible, but it's a good start.
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"Where's Y/n, Nami?" Luffy says while Nami is still looking at the clothes.
"She's over there changing, let's go Y/n!" Nami screams.
"I guess I didn't like that." Y/n says showing off and upon hearing his voice, Luffy turns his head to look.
He doesn't know exactly what he felt at that moment, but it was something very similar to a heart attack.
"What do you think Luffy?" Y/n says observing Luffy's serious expression.
"You are the most beautiful pirate I have ever seen in my entire life." Y/n blushes when she hears this and Zoro scoffs.
"That's very kind of you Luffy, thank you." Y/n says awkwardly.
"Seriously you... you would easily be mistaken for a princess or something." Luffy says getting up and going to Y/n.
Y/n smiles at Luffy who is right in front of her now, and suddenly he starts moving his nose sniffing.
"And what is that smell?" Luffy says trying to identify the smell.
"It must be from dinner Luffy."
"No no, it's something else." And then he does something that leaves everyone wide-eyed.
Luffy puts his nose on Y/n's neck, sniffing deeply, sending shivers all over Y/n's body.
"Luffy don't do that." She says laughing and pushing his shoulders awkwardly.
“Your smell better than meat Y/n!” Luffy says laughing and she feels her cheeks heat up.
"That really surprised me." Zoro says laughing a little.
"Y/n can I smell you more often?" Luffy asks smiling.
"I think you can?"
And it doesn't end here
Y/n is sitting next to Luffy during dinner, she is drinking when she suddenly feels something warm on her neck and turns red as a tomato when she sees Luffy's hair and realizes it was him sniffing her neck again, almost making her to drown.
"Luffy for the love of God don't do that." She says pushing him awkwardly again.
"You really smell good ." He says smiling, and she feels her heart soften.
Y/n doesn't know what to do or say so she just turns forward again, seeing this Luffy's smile disappears
"Oh you don't like that Y/n?" Luffy says loudly, unintentionally drawing the attention of the entire table.
"No, don't worry Luffy, it's okay." She smiles and puts her hand on his shoulder.
But no, it wasn't okay, Luffy thought about Y/n's reaction during dinner, during his speech and everything.
What he least wanted was to hurt or offend Y/n, she was too special to him, it made him so anxious that he simply couldn't wait until the next day to talk to Y/n, so here he is facing the bedroom door her.
Before he can knock on the door, Y/n opens it and is surprised to see Luffy there.
"Oh hi Luffy, everything okay?"
"I'd like to apologize if I made you uncomfortable hi something like that it wasn't my intention." Y/n thinks she fell in love with Luffy even more after hearing him say that.
"Oh no Lu, it's okay, I… I liked that." Y/n says embarrassed as she admits this and he smiles at that.
"That's great, because I like doing this too." He says and moves closer to smell Y/n again, but this time, she tilts her head to give him better access.
But when he is moving away from her, he stops in the middle of the way with their noses almost touching, and then Luffy gives Y/n a quick peck on the lips, quickly moving her face away and smiling.
"Damn why did you do that? It must have made her uncomfortable again" He is torturing himself with his thoughts when Y/n speaks again.
"Do you want to go find the kitchen?" Y/n says and his smile widens.
"Yes, let's go!" Luffy grabs Y/n's wrist and pulls her along with him.
He's happy that his favorite person in the world isn't mad at him, and she's happy that her favorite pirate cares about her so much.
love young bro...
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spencereidluver · 5 months
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D is for Diana
summary: you overhear spencer calling his mother and telling her about you. how hes finally found someone like him and who can understand him
word count: 675
warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing
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It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.
“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him. 
“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.
You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”
That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.” 
Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.
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With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.
As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.
“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”
There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.
Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”
Work? The girl he liked was at work? 
“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”
Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season. 
You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.
You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it. 
You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.
next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?
a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them, and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definantly my favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!
taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology
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mitsies · 10 months
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12 minutes. that's how long it's been since you texted itoshi sae back. 12 whole minutes.
he frowns at his phone, glaring daggers at the poor innocent screen that's really done nothing wrong. he hopes you can feel his stare through the device. 12 minutes is a long, long time; what could you possibly be doing that could be more important than texting your boyfriend back?
he stares at the screen as time ticks on. 12 minutes becomes 12 minutes and 30 seconds. 40. 50. 55. 59. 13 minutes. now, that is entirely too long. but he can’t double text because he’s not that desperate, he thinks. (he is. but his ego is fragile.) so he opts to state some more. and then a little more after that.
at the 13 minute and 45 second mark, his hand hovers tentatively over the call button as he debates his next moves; would calling you make him look a fool? or would it perhaps save you from whatever kidnapper was trying to nab you, or alien trying to abduct you? because in sae’s book, those were the only viable reasons as to why you may not message him back right away.
he gives in and calls you. he counts every single ring until you finally, finally pick up: “sae? hello?”
a wave of tension melts off his bones, anxiety he hadn’t even realised was building. relief tastes good and minty on his tongue as he relishes the sound of your voice. how honey-sweet is always sounded whenever you said his name. he doesn’t even realise he’s verbally ghosted you until you ask, “is anyone even there?”
“yeah. i’m here.”
he doesn’t need to be there to see the expression on your face— you look annoyed, confused, miffed. so pretty, too, always pretty. he’s not whipped though. not whipped, not desperate. just a regular guy worried about his girlfriend. (he’s not that pathetic— right?)
“why are you calling me? what’s up?”
he feels petulant and whiny like a child when he speaks as levelly as he can, “you didn’t answer my text.”
he’s not desperate. and he’s not whipped. but you laugh over the phone, and sae feels himself falling, positively swooning like the sappiest little bitch in town.
“babe, my last text to you was ‘bye’. i had to drive.”
oh. he supposes that you’re right. embarrassment mixes with indignation mixed with unbridled affection as he grasps for straws, “i know. i just wanted to make sure you got there okay.”
he hears you snort a laugh on the other end of the phone and he’s melting again despite his unchanged appearance. his free hand thrums against the table he’s seated at as he hangs on your every word, movement, sound, action.
“sure. sure you did. and now that you know i’m okay, it’s cool if i hang up, right?”
he responds a little too quickly. “no. stay on the line.”
“why should i?”
he narrows his eyes. “don’t be difficult.”
“okay. i’ll leave, then—“
“wait.”
a pause. he speaks again: “i just want to talk to you. stay with me.”
you almost want to push more, to tease a bit. to make him say please. but your stomach is already churning like crazy and you’ve got a swath of butterflies in your chest and god, do you love him. so you just say, “okay.”
you hear the slightest smile in his voice when he replies. “thank you.”
itoshi sae is usually not desperate. he’s not whipped, he doesn’t say please, he doesn’t say thanks. but for you? he thinks he can change the rules, just a little, if that’s what it means to have you.
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viennakarma · 1 month
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My dearest friend and enemy
Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.
Word count: 7.8k
Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)
I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]
Find me on Twitter!
PART 2 (END)
You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.
You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.
“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.
“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.
The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.
He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.
“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.
After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.
“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”
“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.
“Are you sure?” You asked again.
“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.
“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.
“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”
“You know?” You whispered.
“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”
You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.
From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.
You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.
That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.
“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.
You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.
The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.
“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”
You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.
“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”
“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.
“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”
He laughed it off.
Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips. 
“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.
“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.
“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”
“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head. 
At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.
“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.
“Like to what?” He frowned.
“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.
Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.
“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”
“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”
He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.
“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.
“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.
You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.
“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.
“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”
A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.
“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.
“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.
“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.
Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.
You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.
“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”
“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.
“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”
“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”
That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.
Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed. 
You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.
He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.
“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”
He only laughed at your happy ramble.
You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.
“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.
“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you. 
Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.
“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.
“Hm?”
“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.
“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.
“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.
“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”
You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.
“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”
Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.
The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.
“Nano!” You hugged him.
“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.
“You came.”
“You called.”
Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.
You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.
Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.
“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.
“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.
“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”
You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.
When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.
During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.
Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.
“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.
And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.
So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.
That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.
He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.
“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.
“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.
“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.
Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.
That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.
You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.
“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.
“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.
“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”
It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.
“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.
“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.
“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.
“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.
When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.
“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.
“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.
“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.
“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.
After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.
When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.
Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.
When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.
He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.
Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.
You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.
“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.
“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.
“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”
The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.
“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”
“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”
His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.
“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.
“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.
After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.
“Nena…”
“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.
“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.
“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”
“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”
“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”
You walked past him, leaving at once.
That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.
“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.
He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.
“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.
“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”
Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.
He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.
“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”
His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.
“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.
You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party. 
Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.
You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.
“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”
You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.
“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered, 
“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”
“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.
You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.
Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.
The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.
All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.
Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.
“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”
You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.
“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.
“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.
“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.
There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.
When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.
“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.
“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”
“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.
You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you. 
“Fernando, please-”
“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.
“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.
You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.
Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.
“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.
“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”
You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.
“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.
“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.
“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.
Shame and jealousy burned inside you.
He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.
You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.
“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”
You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.
The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.
“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.
“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”
“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.
“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.
“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.
Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.
You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.
“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.
“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”
You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.
It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.
“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.
“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.
“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”
“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.
“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”
“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”
Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.
“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.
“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.
“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.
“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”
“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”
“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”
“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.
“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.
You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.
“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.
“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.
“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.
“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.
“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.
“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”
You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.
You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.
“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”
Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.
They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.
“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.
“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.
“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”
“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”
“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”
So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.
You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.
You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.
It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.
So you had to prove Fernando wrong.
NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!
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prncessrindou · 1 month
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KISS ME THRU THE PHONE, ran haitani ♱
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♱ CONTENT WARNING . . fem!reader, ran is in jail (after getting arrested in Tenjiku), phone sex, fingering, (reader touches themselves for ran) and pet names.
♱ authors note . . I got inspiration from the song called Kiss Me Thru The Phone by Soulja Boy (listen to it and you’ll see what I mean lol)
♱ repost from wakashawty
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“You have a collect call from .. Ran Haitani .. do you accept the charges?” The operator said and you quickly touched the bottom to be connected with your boyfriend. You haven’t heard from him since he was arrested and for some reason you’re kind of anxious to speak with him.
“Hi, pretty thing,” Ran’s voiced through the other end and you got butterflies in your stomach. His voice seemed much deeper than usual and it made you rub your thighs together.
“Hi, Ran .. h- how have you been?” You questioned, laying back on your mattress and getting comfortable. “Hm, I’m better since I’m talking to my favorite girl.” He said, you could tell he had a sly grin on his face and indeed he did . “How have you been though? You still working your ass off in college?” Ran questions, leaning against the painted wall of his cell unit.
You smiled, “of course I am. I have so many assignments that’s due and I’m nowhere near finished with any of them and I haven’t been getting any sleep. College is draining and m’ so tired.”
Ran chuckled through the phone, “told your ass to quit and I’ll take care of you.”
“How? You’re currently in jail!”
“I have my connections .. you must forget who I am?”
You rolled your eyes at his cockiness and bit your bottom lip, “I know exactly who you are, Ran.”
“Heh, you better.” He said, he suddenly turned around to take a look to see if anyone was behind or around him and no one was around because most of them seemed to be into the television or in their cells. Good, he thought to himself.
“Say, princess, what are you wearing right now?” Ran asked, his voice low and almost seductive.
“Oh, um, a pink night gown.”
Ran licked his lips, his hand going down to his clothed shaft. “Shit, girl, if I was there I’d rip that shit off in a heartbeat. You wearing any panties?”
His words made your pussy pulse. “No .. I don’t have any on.” You said almost in a whisper, you began imagining Ran tearing off your gown and toying with your bare cunt.
“Yeah? Be a good girl and play with it fa’ me.” Ran mutters, his hand squeezing his harden clothed cock.
“Mmh—” you moaned softly, your fingers touching your bare pussy and slowly sliding in your wet folds. You closed your eyes, imagining Ran’s long slim fingers down there. He’d make you cum within seconds just from his fingers and after you’d cum all on his fingers, he’d make you lick the slick on them.
“Talk to me, pretty thing.”
“Fuck, Ran, I wish you were here.. I miss you so much.” You murmured, your fingers sliding in and out of your drenched pussy.
Ran grinned and licked his lips, “miss you too, baby.” He strokes his cock, he knows he’s leaking pre cum but he doesn’t care. “You know if I was there, I’d take care of you. First I’d play that slutty pussy, make you cum to the point your legs are fucked.” You know he isn’t just talking to hear himself talk, he’s done it plenty of times before.
“Then I’d give you this cock .. you’d like that wouldn’t you, princess? Me stretching out that tight pussy while you cream on all over it. Fuck, I’m bouta cum jus’ thinking about it.” Ran says through the other end. At this point, he doesn’t care who sees or hears him. Well it’s not like anyone is going to question him about it because he is, along with his brother, Rindou, the most feared within the unit.
“God, Ran, yes! I want it s’ bad!”
“I know, pretty thing, I know— you close, baby?”
You nodded your head, although he couldn’t see you. “Mhmm— yes! I’m so close!”
Ran chuckles lowly and as he was about to say something, the guard comes in. “Haitani, get back in your cell. We’re checking cells and we need to do a headcount.”
“Gimme a sec.”
“Now, Haitani!” The guard snaps at him before leaving back out to go get another guard for a headcount.
Ran just clicks his tongue. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the guard come back so he needed to make it quick. “Say, pretty thing, you still imagining me there? Me touching that pretty pussy and fucking you til you’re dizzy?”
“Mm, yes!” Your voice almost sounded like a cry and he was thriving off that.
Ran bites back a moan, “you don’t know how bad I want you right now— my cock stuffed in you while you’re begging and squirming for more.”
You feel it, that knot in your stomach is tightening up and almost on the verge of breaking. “Rannnn— m’ cummin!”
“Shit, cum baby. Let it go.” Ran coos, rubbing his cock to the sound of your hitch breathing as you cum undone on the other end. Your thighs are trembling as your orgasm hits you like a wave, washing all over you.
Ran listens to your breathing as you calm down from your high, he knows you’re a mess right now and God, if only he was there to see the expression on your face. “You good, princess?” He asks.
“Mmhm, m’ okay.” You respond, still quite dizzy from your orgasm.
The previous guard comes back into the unit with two others along side them, getting ready for headcount and checking cells. “Shit, the guards are back so I gotta go, baby.”
A whine escaped your lips as Ran told you those words, you knew he had to go sometime or another, but you wished he didn’t have to go now.
A sly grin creeps up on Ran’s handsome features, your whining is just so cute to him. “I’ll be calling you back soon, alright, pretty thing..” And with that, he hung up the phone and the call was disconnected.
You held the phone to your ear for a few seconds before laying it down to your side. You finally sighed in disappointment because you didn’t even get to kiss him through the phone before he hung up . . .
tagging the ran girlies :P . . @zeltqz @sin-and-punishment @ilyhaitanii @haitani-maki
comment or send me a ask if you’d like to be tagged in my future work!! (idk how to work the google docs thingy for that yet lmao)
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2hightocare · 6 months
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IN A WORLD OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN
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Synopsis: in which jungkook makes you realize a perfect man may exist…
Pairings: nonidol!jungkook x fem!reader
Genre: established relationship!
Warnings: pure on fluff, Jungkook being a gentleman, oc crying, gguks love language ‘gift giving’
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Jungkook has always been a gentleman, following the sidewalk rule, opening doors, assisting his mom with groceries, and even pulling out chairs. He considers these actions the bare minimum.
When Jungkook met you, he found himself doing everything possible to make you happy. He started buying you flowers every other week after learning about your love for them and how your dad used to surprise you with bouquets as a little girl. Jungkook would research the meaning of each flower before showing up at your door with them, sometimes accompanied by your favorite coffee or snack.
The pink tulips Jungkook got you two days ago now sit beautifully in a vase on your vanity. "Care and good wishes, baby," he whispers the meaning of the flowers against your mouth, making you break into a big smile.
As an avid reader of romantic books, you would often find yourself on Jungkook's couch in your pajamas and fuzzy socks while he either slept or watched television with his head on your lap. He would playfully toy with your socks as you read, and your black-framed reading glasses would rest on your nose. "My glasses are so dirty, yuck," you scrunch your nose, cringing at their fogginess before taking them off.
“Give 'em to me," Jungkook says, raising his hand. You place the glasses in his open hand, and he uses the back of his shirt to carefully wipe them down.
These unasked-for gestures release a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, making your cheeks hurt from smiling. Most times, Jungkook doesn't even notice he's doing these things; they happen subconsciously. Like when he drops to his knees immediately upon noticing your untied shoes, tying them with bunny ears before creating a bow perfectly, not too tight or too loose, just as you like them. He then stands up, acting like nothing just happened.
You'd express gratitude often for everything he does, but he would consistently shut you up with a kiss, saying, "It's the bare minimum, baby. I wish I could do more."
During your girls' nights, your friends occasionally felt a twinge of envy as you recounted Jungkook's thoughtful gestures. You'd share how he bought all the books you had saved in your Barnes and Noble cart, leaving them outside your door along with a box of chocolate-covered strawberries.
Your sister, overwhelmed by jealousy, almost cried out, "Oh my god, when will I get myself a Jungkook!" she groaned into her hands, eliciting giggles from you and your mom. "No, seriously, like what the heck!" She continued, making you laugh even harder while recording her tiny tantrum on the phone you held in front of your face.
"Can I at least have one strawberry?" your sister muttered, creating a small window with her hands covering her face as she peeked through. Your mom burst into laughter, trying not to choke on the water she had just been drinking.
You quickly sent the video to Jungkook before admiring the stack of books wrapped in brown kraft paper, neatly held together by a pink ribbon. The thoughtfully arranged packaging made you reluctant to even open.
Jungkook had always claimed that his love language was gift-giving, using it as an excuse every time you told him to stop spending so much money on you. While he shook his head, saying, "I have the money," your boyfriend justified his actions, making you roll your eyes and then leave a big, fat kiss on his lips.
Reflecting on all the things Jungkook has done and continues to do for you warms your tummy and brings a smile to your face. Jungkook genuinely enjoyed performing these acts, from carrying you or swapping shoes when your feet hurt from your heels to taking off your makeup after you fell asleep with it on, and putting your phone to charge whenever you would forget to.
Your heart races every time you see him, a reminder of how effortlessly you fell in love with Jungkook. His encouraging words during testing week or on days when everything seemed to go wrong.
“What’s wrong, baby? Tell me, I’ll fix it,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks as tears continue to flow down your face.
His words only intensify your tears, causing Jungkook to panic. Not sure what to do, he holds onto you tightly, feeling the pain in his chest grow with each sniffle that escapes you.
“It’s so stupid—” you start to explain, flapping your hands around, only for Jungkook to gently cage them with his own.
“Hey, anything that makes you this upset is not stupid, baby,” Jungkook reassures, kissing your tear-stained cheek. Your hair and makeup are disheveled from crying, and your hand rubs your chest, hoping to take away the ache.
Jungkook watches your movements, sighing as he realizes he can't do anything to take away all your pain. God, how he wishes he could.
Since that day, you find solace in clinging onto Jungkook at every opportunity. His comforting touches, from light caresses to small kisses on your cheek or forehead, become your source of comfort. Each gesture makes you want to shower him with kisses.
“Do you want pasta and pizza?” he asks, reaching for a loose strand of your hair and securing it behind your ear before returning his attention to the menu. Leaving you looking at him with hearts in your eyes.
"Hmm," you hum as your head nestles into his shoulder, inhaling his scent. "Sleepy?" he asks, smiling down at you. "Nah," you giggle as he squeezes your thigh, your hand resting on top of his, barely covering half of it. "You should’ve brought jeans; you're freezing," Jungkook suggests, moving his hand up and down your bare thighs. "The skirt was too cute not to wear," you mumble into his shoulder.
"Super cute," he agrees, looking down at your black skirt before attempting to pull it down. "Too short, though," he continues, making you burst into laughter and swat his shoulder.
Jungkook watches your profile as you slurp on the pasta, a rush of love overwhelming him. He'd give you the stars and the moon you love so much without a second thought. He used to roll his eyes to the thought of love back then now, he found himself captivated by the girl with a white headband beside him, chuckling at every 'mmm' you let out when taking a bite.
"I love you," Jungkook says suddenly, making you look up with a mouth full of food. You tease, "Are you dying?" His smile widens, "No, I just wanted to tell you." Jungkook leans down, leaving a quick peck on your lips. Your eyes soften, "I love you."
Moments like this make you wonder: what were you doing without him in your life?
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klipkillakai · 2 months
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that ony clip gave me so many butterflies omg 😩 it lowk reminded me of a punishment like what if homegirl went out for the first time in a while and missed the curfew only gave her but he see on sasha and historia ig she’s drunk shaking her ass on the car or smthn 😭😭
ouuu girl it gave me butterflies too, but you ate so lemme walk with you rq 🤭
ony was sitting on the couch rolling his second blunt while an episode of breaking bad plays in the background, he doesn’t usually get to watch this show because you usually like to watch love island or your ghetto ass reality shows that he pretends not to be invested in—
he glances at the time on his phone noting that you should be home soon and he leans back and lights his blunt, taking a hit and throwing his lighter back on the coffee table
he ticks a hand in his sweats and mindlessly smokes and watches his show, another hour passes and he checks his phone again sending you a quick text
baby moms 💙
-wya?
he quickly leaves the text and clicks on insta checking your story but seeing it hasn’t been updated for 2hrs, he quickly scrolls and finds sasha’s and clicks through them and stopping on a video of you, drunkenly singing a song and twerking on another one of your ghetto ass homegirls, ony smacks his teeth quickly standing up
“this fucking girl man” he walks towards the door, and grabs his keys, slipping on his slides and getting in his car and speeding off while trynna call you..
“bend that ass over let that coochie breathe” you slur while slowly whining on your friend as she takes a video of you guys, your having a fucking good ass time, you haven’t been out in ages and you miss it, you begged ony to let you go.. and after days acting sweet and a few blow jobs, he let you, but with rules of course.. he gave you a curfew which you gladly accepted but quickly broke as soon as you got a few shots in you—
you were feeling bold, who was he to tell you what you could and couldn’t do, he wasn’t your daddy! well… not all the time anyway—
your standing in your section in your own world, sipping on your drink until, you feel someone behind you, and a chill runs up your spine cause you know exactly who it is, you turn around and look up at him
“didnt i tell you to come come after 12?”
your heart sinks a bit “yea but i was having fu-
“i don’t give a fuck, i told yo lil’ ass that ion fucking trust this club and you still didn’t listen”
you smack your teeth a bit “papa your being so extra right now, nobody is even-
you feel ony’s large hand wrap around your neck and he leans in a whispers in your ear
“im gon tear yo ass up when we get home” you feel tingles bloom in your lower belly and feel your face get hot—
“tell your lil friends your leaving” you softly nod and turn around grabbing your bags and saying soft byes and sorry’s, while your friends give you knowing looks and soft smiles—
ony grabs your hand and drags you out the club as fast as your heels will let you, quickly opening the door for you, and letting you get in before speeding off once again—
“im just trynna get my paper straight” you hear brent sing as ony pounds ya shit, you let out loud moans and choked sobs, “p-please” you whimper out as you reach behind trynna to press against his stomach, running away from the dick—
“nah move ya hand” he roughly says, quickly grabbing your hand and pressing it against your back, pulling your hair, and starting to drill into you—
“oh my god” you whine, pathetically whimpering letting him just man handle you, letting out his frustrations on you…
“take that shit” he grunts, pounding into you “mhm” he whispers, tightening his grip around your hair
“i c-cant” “p-pa-
he hears you he really does, but he can’t get over this shit, not this time, you need to learn, yo lil ass get real disrespectful and he’s tired of it..
“nah tell them all that shit you was saying in the camera, let them hear all this” he lifts you up and pulls you towards the camera, while still pounding into you
“i-im sorry” you sob “im s-so so sorry papa” “pl-please haaa~ ” you feel the tears rolling down your cheeks, your so overstimulated and he’s so deep inside you.. too deep even, you just need a break
“b-break” you choke out.. “need a break”
“hm baby?” “you need a break” he says mockingly while biting his lips after feeling you tighten around him, “lil ass can’t even handle some dick, you think you finna go out again?” “you crazy mama”
“please!” you moan again, pathetically trying to reach down to rub your clit, to soothe some of the stretch your feeling— god it hurts so good, your eyes nearly roll back into your skull—
“you wanna break?” “here” ony quickly pulls out, breathing heavy, grabbing his phone concluding the punishment he was giving you, you lay on the bed heaving, pussy leaking more slick, your shaking and tired..
ony slaps your ass, and leaves hot kisses down your back “i bet you’ll never do some shit like that again” “right mama?” you just tiredly nod.. he slaps your ass again “let me hear you say it” “p-promise papa” “i won’t do it again” ony nods and slowly slips inside you again, this time giving you slow strokes, and rubbing small circles on your clit.. “mmm~
the rest of the night he takes care of you, ending in mind blowing orgasms, he can never stay mad at you for too long, your still his baby girl..
|a/n|
wait yall!! i’m fucking with this oneeee ouuuu, yall i love me some ony! 🤭
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Me & my hubby!
—When you accidentally introduce your boyfriend as your husband
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Jouno X Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Humor
Format: Drabble
Warnings: Suggestive content in Dazai's
Word Count: 1.6K
A/n: This is very rushed so sorry if its not well written
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↳Osamu Dazai
As the door of the fitting room opened, your boyfriend came into sight. The white tuxedo hugged his slim frame perfectly, making his tall figure stand out even more. The color had given him an elegant look, which nearly made you wonder if he was the playful guy you were dating.
Dazai smirked as he picked up on your stun and flashed you a cheeky smirk. "Like what you see, Bella? You're staring a little too hard you know~"
Suddenly the fitting room seemed like the perfect place to show him how much you actually liked his new look. It didn't matter if you made a mess out of the tux, since you were about to buy it anyway.
"Oh Osamu... You should wear white more often"
"Everything alright here?"
The salesclerk was checking up on you with a warm smile.
"Ah yes! We would like to buy this one. It looks gorgeous on my husband"
You didn't exactly pay attention to your words, but seeing Dazai's eyebrows jump in surprise made you question your statement, and...
Oh.
Anxiety washed over you as you weren't exactly unfamiliar with your partner's commitment issues, but much to your surprise, Dazai wasn't upset nor terrified; his huge ass grin was showing off his joy and flatter.
"I'm her husband!"
For god's sake.
The salesclerk on the other hand was looking at you oddly, probably questioning her life choices.
"Ah, ok. Well then would you mind taking the tuxedo off? I'll wrap it up for you"
A snicker left your boyfriend's lips as he pulled you close by your waist. "Sure, but I might need my wife's help to take my clothes off. Will you be kind enough to help me out, Anata?"
"Oh shut up already!"
↳Chuuya Nakahara
One of the benefits of working at the same organization was that when your boyfriend had a mission overseas, you could go with him.
You had just arrived to your hotel after a five hour flight, which made you tired as hell since you couldn't sleep on the airplane. Although that wasn't enough to lessen your excitement for going on what could be some kind of a trip after you finish the job.
"Have you made a reservation beforehand ma'am?"
"No, it was kind of rushed. Would that be a problem?"
The receptionist shook his head to the side. "Not at all. Lucky for you, we still have some rooms available"
The door of the hotel opened and Chuuya came in, approaching you with your luggage in his hand. You looked back at the receptionist. "Great! Then I'd like a room for two people. We're going to be here for a while since my husband needs to take care of some stuff from work; right, honey?"
Chuuya froze in the spot and a light shade of crimson appeared on his cheeks. This was definitely unexpected. It made him feel butterflies in his stomach in a good way and somehow questioned all the logic that made him avoid thinking about the future of your relationship.
"Well your husband doesn't seem to be sure" The receptionist commented in a humorous way. "Alright then, here's your key"
On the way to your room there was a silence that couldn't exactly be marked as "uncomfortable". Chuuya was wearing a warm smile yet so drowned in his thoughts that you refused to take him out of his zone. However, when you reached the door, he suddenly lifted you up, making you suddenly gasp and gaze at him with astonishment.
"What are you doing?"
"What a good husband is supposed to do"
The familiar beam was back on his face.
"I'm carrying my wife to our shared hotel room"
↳Ranpo Edogawa
"Ranpo! You can't eat this whole cake!"
Going to the bakery had become some sort of tradition since you and your boyfriend started dating. You went there every afternoon, tasted the new pastries, you lectured him to not get carried away and he stopped you by shoving a cookie in your mouth. That was pretty much repetitive, except that something extra was coming along today.
"I can and I will. That's why it's called sample y/n" He munched on his cheesecake, delighted by the sweet taste lingering in his mouth.
"Well Mr. detective, It's a sample so you should just take one bite and then move on! If you like it then just buy one!"
The baker chuckled and walked toward you. She knew you since you were regulars there, and she had enough respect for the president to not throw a tantrum over a few pieces of cake. "It's alright Miss y/n. Let the man eat his sweets"
"You don't understand ma'am! My husband eats way too much sweets and that's not healthy at all! What if he comes down with diabetes or something?!"
Ranpo stopped chewing for a brief second and looked at you from the corner of his eye. The lady on the other hand, was more excited than shocked. "You got married? Oh! Congratulations! It's nice to know that Mr. Ranpo has finally settled down!"
You didn't know if you should correct yourself or hide your red cheeks. "I— I meant that— " "Please have some more cake! They're on the house. Consider them a gift from me"
As she left you alone, you finally turned to your boyfriend to see his reaction, which was exactly the way you expected it to be; smug and playful. "Ah, I went into this marriage with so much hope"
"Oh grow up!"
↳Fyodor Dostoevsky
"How's your steak honey?" You asked, looking at your boyfriend with curiosity. He had been taking bites reluctantly, swallowing without actually tasting the meat.
"It's burnt to a crisp, even though I ordered it medium rare" He gently wiped his mouth with the napkin, placing the cutlery on the table. You gave the dish a once over and flagged the waiter down. After a while he approached your table. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"
"Yes. My husband ordered his steak medium rare and as you can see, this is not what he asked for"
My... Husband?
"Eh, so... He'd like his steak... Medium rare... Please?" Awkwardness was hitting you and you really didn't want to be alone with Fyodor right now, but unfortunately, you were on a date and there were no way to escape from it.
The waiter excused himself after apologizing and taking the plate back to the kitchen. He did find your sudden change of expression odd, but he didn't say anything since he wasn't asking for less tip. However, Fyodor was completely ready to bring it up. You could tell that based on his grin, but you were doing your best not to face him at that moment.
Not that it was enough to stop him.
"How's your pasta Mrs. Dostoevsky?" "Fedya! Stop!"
↳Ryuunosuke Akutagawa
Getting sick on valentine's day was not originally your plan, but at least you got to visit the doctor together. You were now waiting for the secretary to call your names.
"How long should we wait?"
Covering your mouth with a tissue, you lightly coughed. "Anytime now. All the people ahead of us went inside"
Akutagawa glanced at the door of the doctor's office and nodded. He had made a reservation at your favorite restaurant today and was planning to take you to some place nice afterwards, get on one knee and ask you to spend the rest of your life with him, but you suddenly got sick. It's not like he could be mad at you. It was not your fault, but... It seemed like the perfect opportunity. The perfect day for a memorable gesture...
"Mrs. Akutagawa! You're up"
Akutagawa.
She was referring to you, with his last name.
You had introduced yourself as Akutagawa. He was sure you did it accidentally since your face was redder than a tomato now, but still, he never thought hearing it would feel so... special.
The raven-haired man held your hand and leaded you to the doctors office, a ghost of a smile spread on his face. He might've lost the chance to propose now, but it's not the end of the world. You're stuck with him and not going anywhere, so he would try to make the perfect plan for a perfect proposal, for the perfect girl.
↳Saigiku Jouno
"Are you sure this is the store?" Your boyfriend crossed his arms.
"For the thousandth time! Yes!" "Well, you were also sure that you knew my size but it turns out you were wrong" "Ugh! Let's just get inside!"
Thanks to his job, Jouno was always on endless missions and barely had time to rest, let alone go shopping. You this T-shirt when you were walking by and you just couldn't help but to imagine your boyfriend in it. It might've cheered him up if it was his size.
The clerk recognized you the second you set foot in the store. "Oh hi ma'am! Welcome back!"
"Hi Amaya. Thank you. So, remember how I was not sure if the T-shirt was my boyfriend's size?"
She only nodded with a forced smile, because how could she forgot? You spent fifteen minutes staring at the T-shirt, wondering if it would fit him.
"Well, it wasn't" Jouno's smile got wider and you sighed. "Yeah yeah, I admit it. I don't know what size is suitable for my husband. I'm the worst partner ever. Can we please change this one and leave?"
"I don't understand ma'am"
For real? You just can't take a break.
"I'm saying that the T-shirt was too big for him!" "Yeah I got that, but I thought he was your boyfriend?" "What do you mean you— oh!"
No.
No no no no no no no no.
Jouno's smirk was still on, and now with a little smugness. He was clearly enjoying himself.
"If this is your way of proposing, it's really lame" "Oh shut up you big jerk!"
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taurussbabe · 7 months
Text
give you my wild, give you a child
note: it's been so long since i've posted anything, missing posting and you guys, so here it is a charles fic 🎀🫶 word count: 1,3 k
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You stared at the test in front of you. Two lines. This is it. You were pregnant, you were going to have a baby, with charles. The adrenaline of the situation got to you and you started crying. Your heard immediately thought ‘hormones’ following by a thought of the amount of times you were going to be able to use that excuse. You laughed at that, but also laughed of happiness, your hand coming to rest on your stomach as you looked down.
“hi baby” you whispered ever so gently.
You wanted to tell charles, you wished he was here, next to you, but he wasn’t, he was in Italy. This weekend was going to be special for charles, it was monza, everyone knew how much monza meant to Ferrari. You though about calling him but decided against it, after all, it could affect his racing or his focus and that was the last thing you wanted.
Keeping it a secret from him was harder than you expected, every time he’d call, you had to bite your tongue not to say it. You had decided you were going to plan something special, not telling him over the phone.
-
You sat on your couch watching the race, on the edge of your seat, charles had managed to snatch P2 yesterday and you were so proud of him, but you knew he wanted more. Luckily for him, the monza curse struck again and Verstappen had to retire the race, leaving your boyfriend in P1.
You didn’t want to get very excited because it was Ferrari, a simple strategy mistake and charles could loose the highest place on the podium, but he didn’t. you watched proudly as you boyfriend lifted his champagne bottle, spraying all the tifosi there watching him.
-
You had tried to stay awake till he got home, but sleep got the best of you, because when you woke up, you were no longer in your couch, wrapped around your blanket, you were in bed, charles arm wrapped around your waist, his hand stroking you back and his eyes glued to yours.
“good morning, mon ange” he whispered and you swore you felt butterflies in your tummy, you wondered if the baby feels it too, or something like that.
“good morning, I’m so proud of you, like bursting out of pride” you kissed him fearlessly, pouring out every bit of your love for him
“wow, if you’re like this when I win, then I should win more often” he joked “did you watch me?”
“of course I did, you were so great” you placed your hand on your stomach but quickly realized your mistake and placed it on his cheek
He kissed you again before he quickly sat up “I am making YOU breakfast” he brushed your leg softly and disappeared down the hallway.
After eating breakfast, you were going to finally tell him, but he had other ideas “I’m gonna shower, I didn’t do it last night because you were asleep, but I smell like champagne” he gave you a peck on your lips and left without saying another word.
-
You heard the shower stop as you sat anxiously on the bed, a small box next to you. He finally came out of the shower and you couldn’t help but eye him up and down, I mean, the guy looked like a Greek god, water still dripping and his chest fully exposed with a towel hanging around his hips
“oh, I didn’t know you were here” he leaned down to kiss the top of your head “are you ok? What is that?” he pointed to the box
“sit” you said seriously and he chuckled gently before realizing your tone was serious and sitting down, his face immediately dropping
“are you ok?” he grabbed your hands and gave them a tight squeeze “please talk to me”
“I have something for you” you handed him the box, and watched closely his reaction while opening it
Inside, he found a small Ferrari onesie with the name Leclerc on the back. You hoped for any kind of reaction, anything really, but he only smiled at you.
“aw, you bought something for Chiara? It’s cute but I think it’s a bit too small for her” he said and you were a bit incredulous how he didn’t got it but still managed to pull a laugh at his assumption that it was for his best friend’s baby.
That was the thing with charles though, no matter how scared or nervous you were, he always found a way to make you laugh, and you loved it.
“the thing is.. this is not for Chiara” you placed his hand on your stomach and a tear escaped your eyes
“wait.. really?” he asked, his eyes getting full of tears now “like, really?” those were the only words coming out of his mouth and honestly you couldn’t judge because you couldn’t say anything, you could only nod at him
Next thing you know, charles was pulling you in for a kiss, one that left you breathless. He picked you up and spun you around, pulling you up so your legs wrapped around him. Both of your hands came to his face and cleaned the few tears that laid on his cheeks and he mimicked your movements by kissing every inch of your cheeks til there was no tears
“Are you sure?” he asked and you climbed out of his arms to show him the test you had in your bag
“pretty sure” you both stayed still for a moment, this was going to happen, you and charles were going to be parents. As you both started to realize this, you couldn’t help but wonder how you had gotten so lucky in life. “Are you happy?”
He took a few steps in your direction and pulled you in close to him, close enough that you could feel in breath on you “of course I am, you make me the happiest, I love you so much, mon amour, and I promise, I will be the best father”
“I know” you whispered, only loud enough so he could hear.
“no, I mean it, I’m gonna be the best, I’ll always be there and I’ll never, EVER, gonna let anything happen to the two of you, ever, you’re my world” he walked with you so your back fell into the mattress, his fingers playing with the hem of your (his) shirt, lifting it up enough so that he could see your belly, reaching to touch it, kneeling in front of you, his lips connecting with your stomach, whispering something to the baby, something you couldn’t even hear yourself. You immediately started crying when you saw him shed a tear, him immediately rising up to his feet, his hands on your shoulders “why are you crying? Are you okay, mon ange?”
“Yes, yes, I just… I was so scared of how you were going to react and… you know” you moved your hands around, stopping when he started laughing. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because you’re adorable, and I love you too much” you simply smiled and let him kiss you, for a second there you forgot he was still in a towel and just realized how gorgeous and hot the man in front of you was, you must have been staring because you noticed him smirking at you, kissing you, letting his hands wonder around you, but you couldn’t help but notice how he was being a little more careful with you, too careful.
“what are you doing?” you pulled back
“kissing you…I’m sorry, did I misread the signs?”
“no, I want this” you point up and down at him “but I don’t want you to hold back”
“I’m sorry, I’m just scared to hurt you or the baby” you smiled fondly at him and kissed his jaw
“that’s cute, but I want you, and I don’t want you told back, please”
“I won’t, then” he picked you up, his towel dropping when he got the both of you in the bedroom. You didn’t know why you were so scared, this was charles, it was always going to be okay”
1K notes · View notes
wyvernest · 10 months
Note
oh??my??god??? “midnight cravings” was so good! i’m foaming at the mouth 😩
would you be able to write something about how the reader has never been able to have an orgasm with another person and miguel hears this and changes that 🫣
go easy on me
part 2
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pairing: miguel o'hara x afab!reader
warnings: smut, fluff, established relationship, vaginal fingering, sexual tension
The movie you put on is nearing its end. The lights dance over the walls of the dimly lit bedroom, flashing across your tired eyes. You hadn't even registered Miguel turning the volume down halfway.
It's not the first time he's come to visit. Ever since you two have started dating, he has made increasingly more time among his duties and responsibilities to swing by your place, whether to eat dinner, to watch a movie, or just sit and talk about everything and anything.
At some point along the movie, you had cuddled up against his side, head propped on his shoulder, internally surprised at how comfortable it was despite the rigid muscles that adorned his body. The only problems were the butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach, the way your heart flipped every time he even did as little as readjust his weight on the bed or sigh, in fearful yet giddy hopes that he'd maybe, just maybe, initiate something you're otherwise not bold enough to start.
Suddenly, the movie gets to a low-lit scene, and you make out Miguel's features in the screen's reflection. The contour of his face, the width of his shoulders on the headboard in comparison to your frame, gathered up by his side. And the moment you make out his eyes, it's too late.
He's staring right back at you, but you were too distracted to notice.
Dark, red-shaded eyes, outlined by thick eyebrows, daggers deepening the look on his face.
Maybe he's just lost in thought? Zoned out?
All those suppositions fly out the window faster than your breath when the corners of his mouth curl into a smirk, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. You feel unprepared for whatever he's making out to be the rest of the night in his head.
Nobody's watching whatever's left of the movie anymore.
The hand holding you by his side tightens around your shoulders, and just for a flash of a second you guess that it was all in your head. He wasn't plotting anything, he's just the sweet and caring Miguel you've known for so long, smiling kindly at you and making sure you're comfortable and close to him. All until his other hand travels to your thigh, his whole body shifting so that he sits on his side, all his attention focused on you alone.
Tilting your head up, you meet his gaze. You find it hard to pinpoint the feelings plastered on his face. Affection? Lust? Hesitancy? He's wordlessly asking you for permission to proceed.
His palm moves up, grip stronger and firmer. Your hands naturally find his chest, and you don't quite remember when you've hiked up a leg over his, letting his hand reach the mound of your soft ass, squeezing and groping.
You don't get much time to bask in the pure happiness and excitement of being inches away from his face, eye to eye, breath to breath, before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. The kiss is gentle and tender, he tastes you like you're a goddess and he's only ever allowed to kiss you once in a whole lifetime. He cradles your body close to his, allowing himself to indulge in the delicate feeling of your soft skin, parting from your lips and kissing your face wherever he can reach, so lovingly, so carefully, having you melt against him.
You mindlessly let a moan echo in your throat, at which he retracts, as if being presented an undoubtedly green light. He pulls you impossibly close, both hands clutching at the small of your waist. His mouth drops to your neck, growing impatient and needy. He bites down, fangs stinging into your skin before he licks and pecks at the red marks, soothingly. Your breathing fails to keep up with his ministrations, your heart threatening to burst right out of your chest.
You choke on a whimper when you feel the extensive shape of his vigorous thigh push upwards between your parted legs, applying dangerous pressure right on your still clothed clit.
"Miguel." you call breathlessly, the name placed upon a questioning tone.
He stops.
"Mi vida."
"I need to tell you something."
He looks up at you from your chest, almost reverentially. There's a reassurance in his pleading, immensely compassionate eyes that can't possibly be put into words. So you confess. You tell him about your lack of experience, how nobody's brought you to the very heights of ecstasy before. He ponders the information, calculating. His attention darts momentarily between his surroundings, you and your flushed lips.
"You want me to be the first?", he's almost afraid you'll deny him. Not that he wouldn't back off the moment he sensed any sign of discom from you, but he can't deny that he had dreamed of giving you pleasure you haven't felt in your entire life. To have you twist and turn in his arms, writhe and whimper from the intensity of both your feelings and the things he could do to you.
You smile sweetly, certain of the answer.
"I want you to be the last, too."
That's all it takes. In a mere second, he's all over you, clawing and kissing every patch of skin he manages to expose. He travels down to the sides of your waist, sinking his fangs into the tender flesh without puncturing the skin, sending jolts of adrenaline and need pulsing through you. You squirm into his arms, feeling downright devoured. Spread wide open, at his disposal, liquid ready to mould into whatever vessel he offers with his embrace.
He drags your panties down your legs in one swift motion, crawling over your frame and dwarfing you in his shadow. You feel his strong, expert hand make its way down between your legs, parting your lips and rubbing in soft, circular motions.
"You're soaked" he mumbles into your ear, his breaths hot and heavy on your neck. You manage to sob briefly, too overwhelmed to speak.
He pushes a finger into your cunt, swelling with pride when feeling how wet you had gotten for him. You moan at the stretch, as the heat of the heel of his palm digs into your core. You whimper, and he kisses you, swallowing his whispered name.
You liquefy into his embrace, allowing him to add a second finger. He's testing the perimeter, playing and experimenting with angles, watching your reactions intently. He suddenly hits a rough spot that had you bucking your hips, and he flashes you a smug smile, fangs on display. He repeats the motion, rolling his hand into your pelvis, and you can't do anything but grab onto his muscled arm and quicken your already laboured breaths. He starts giving attention to your clit in tandem, rubbing the heel of his palm into the sensitive bud.
You watch the mesmerising way his arm flexes with every movement, every thrust of his thick fingers into your drenched cunt.
Soon enough you feel the unmistakable coil start to form into your lower abdomen, legs tense and face contorted from the pleasure.
"That's it. Dios mío, you're so beautiful when you're about to come.", his voice is low and breathless, echoing into your lust-addled brain and then straight down to your cunt. You reach your peak, gushing on his hand, pulsing around his fingers.
He holds you to his chest while you ride out your high, watching the way your lips struggle to form coherent words that aren't his name.
As your breathing returns to normal, he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, and you mentally swear you could die right then and there.
It's all so intimate, gentle, and romantic until–
"Can't wait to feel you pulse like that around my cock."
a/n: hope this is what you wanted<3
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chrolloluvr · 2 months
Note
Plsplspls do Adam and Mammon with a reader who behaves like a lovesick puppy and is always battling her eyelashes at them and gets all flustered when they flirt plsss 🙏🏻
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Adam and Mammon w/ S/O who is lovestruck with them.
Note: I LOVE RJIS IDEA!!! ALSO WITH MY TWO FAVORITE MEN BY VIVZIE LIKE HELLO??
Female!Reader
Warnings: Touching, not proofread, but other than that nothing rlly!
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Mammon 🕷️:
He would use this to his advantage. If he wants something from you, he had you wrapped around his fingers.
"Hey babe, yeah, so I need something from ya. You'll do this for me right? Aw, your such'a good girl."
He is so aware that his speech and accent give such a feeling to you. He finds you adorable.
But other than the obvious exploitation, he thinks its cute. Obviously, millions of other girls in Hell feel the same way as you, but he chose you.
But other than that, he loathes in the attention and innocent looks you give him.
He will physically flirt with you. He likes to ruffle your hair, play with your cheeks (both ass and face), ,and his favorite, forcing you to look up at him. He knows his affect on you is dangerously crazy, so he uses that to his advantage.
You feel butterflies in your stomach whenever you're around him, and his loud, obnoxious self. You love how dainty and feminine he makes you feel. You are like his princess, and he is your king. (technically that is true lol)
Because he isn't a traditional man per say, but he has a traditional view on women.
He will mentally flirt with you. He gives you a certain look:
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He only does this when he wants to get you weak in the knees for him. Because he knows it works.
He will always tease you. He gets into your head like no other. When you are with him, it feels like no other man matters, it always circles back to him.
He loves the fact that you are obedient and behaved. He loathes in it. He thinks of you like a cute little puppy (that makes him no money whatsoever, but oh well.).
Verbally flirts with you. Well not necessarily always flirting, but thats what it feels like to you. Here are some things he will say to you:
"Hey babe, c'mere and sit on my lap, hurry up, we dont got all day!"
"Well don't you just look sweet, yeah? Are you tryin' to impress me or somethin'?"
"Cutie, go fetch daddy his wallet, yeah? Good girl, you deserve a little treat later, huh? You'd like that, would'nt ya'?"
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Adam 🕊️:
Always brags about it. When talking to Lute or something, he will be like:
"Oh yeah fore sure. but y'know, y/n can just do that for me or whatever. Shes just like that."
He likes that you are obedient, but sometimes it crept him out, at least in the beginning. You were willing to do almost anything for him. He liked the premise, but it make him weary how much control he had over you.
But now? He uses it against you. He will have you do things for him, like paperwork, helping him clean himself, dressing him, kissing him on the cheek, etc.
He cant get enough of how you pamper him.
Praises you. He will call you a good girl, say your his princess, etc. In a way, they way him and Mammon praise you is very similar. The only difference, is that Adam is more reserved when it comes to praise in public, while Mammon is shameless. This is because he cares about his image in Heaven, and cant do too much under watchful eye.
Also gives you a face:
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This man has such a devious grin, especially when he gets his way with you.
He does this face when he wants to rile you up. He knows he will too, since you are very compliant towards him, since he basically treats you like you two are married.
Also verbally flirts.
"Hey wifey- you look different today... did you do your hair or something? Looks hot."
"Hey babe can you do a favor for me and fetch me some water? Your the best babe, god."
"Aww you get embarrassed when your hubby pokes fun at you? Your such a snowflake babe, a cute little snowflake."
Touches you. He likes to tease your shy, pandering nature. So he likes to blow on your ear, come up behind you and pick you up, or just the occasional slap on the ass.
He loves how shy and embarrassed you become, so he will definitely enjoy continuing his antics.
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reiding-writing · 23 days
Note
hi red !! i'm sending through a rec for your climacteric event hehehehe <3
spencer reid x fem!reader with the colour prompts red 1 ("You're bleeding."), green 2 ("You're safe here, I promise."), and purple 1 ("You know you're my best friend, right?") please? LOVE YOU LOADS RAHHHH
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SCARECROWS [CLIMACTERIC]
1. “You’re bleeding.”
2. “You’re safe here, I promise.”
1. “You know that you’re my best friend, right?”
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WARNINGS: reader injury, blood duh, mentions of being stabbed <3
spencer reid x reader || hurt/comfort || 1.6k || event page!!
a/n: you adding the direct quotes made my job so much easier in finding them rip 😭 thanks for the request ml <333
main masterlist!! ⋆。°✩ event masterlist!!
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Sometimes you wondered why you joined the FBI.
If by making one different decision you’d be in a completely different career in a different part of the country with a husband and children living in a two story house with a white picket fence.
Spencer would probably fill you in on the butterfly effect, how a single flap of a butterfly’s wings could change the trajectory of the wind and spin into a tornado, or in your case, leave you stranded and unarmed in an overgrown cornfield with your only company being the crows flying overhead.
It was arguably, definitely, your fault, but what were you supposed to do when the unsub was running off into the night after you’d finally tracked him down.
He’d slipped under the radar for too long, you weren’t going to let it happen again.
Though you weren’t going to lie, you were starting to regret not waiting for the rest of the team.
How were you supposed to know that the welfare check you were sent on would turn into a chase?
They were twelve minutes out last time you checked. You didn’t have signal anymore, who knew how close they were now.
All you knew was that you were a sitting duck with an empty magazine in an unfamiliar location with a light level so low you could barely see your own feet.
You’d lost the unsub a good few minutes ago, and you weren’t about to stand around with nothing to protect yourself with, so you started running back the way you came, hopeful that it would bring you out back at the farmhouse, with floodlights and a phone signal.
You weren’t that lucky.
You never were.
“Oh my god—“ Emily sounds like she’s seen a ghost as she cups her left hand over her mouth, her right lowering to her side until her gun is limply resting in her fingers.
Her face is a mix of relief, astonishment and absolute horror, and as the team follow her gaze they mirror one by one until the whole group is frozen in abject shock.
You were alive, thank god, but you were also stumbling backwards out of the corn field like a final girl in a horror movie, completely disheveled and torn up with your attention completely focused on the rows of stalks in front of you like you were afraid something was going to pop out and finish you off.
The sight was enough for Spencer to feel like he was going to throw up his stomach, although whether out of relief or anxiety he wasn’t exactly sure.
Either way he was pocketing his gun and practically sprinting in your direction the second he got a full view of you, no care for what you were running from in his mind whatsoever.
At least you were okay.
“Hey-” His hand barely grazes over your shoulder before your instincts kick in and you swing your elbow outwards with the intent of sending it straight into his face.
It hits him directly underneath his nose, sending his neck back sharply to stop any worse injury occurring under the force of your arm.
It doesn’t deter him though, and he doesn’t so much as even cover his nose from the pain as he takes your arms in his hands to swivel you in his direction so that you can see that you aren’t in danger.
“Hey- Hey, it’s just me you’re okay, you’re safe here I promise,”
The flicker of absolute terror in your eyes makes him swear his heart is going to shatter, and even as he watches it fizzle out under the realisation that he wasn’t someone to be afraid of that small pit in his stomach didn’t disappear.
You looked bad.
Your hands were grazed and raw, you were covered in mud, half of your shirt had been ripped from the hem and tied around your left thigh — presumably as some sort of makeshift bandage, and you were so much paler than you usually were, all of the colour completely drained from your face until you looked almost translucent under the mix of moonlight and blared foglights.
“You’re bleeding— Did I do that? I’m sorry—” You reach up your hand towards and he swerves to take it in his own with a shake of his head, clasping his fingers gently around your shaking palms, careful not to irritate the angry red covering them.
“Don’t worry about me, are you okay? What happened?” His eyes roam anxiously over your frame, lingering specifically on the torn piece of fabric around your thigh that is slowly but surely turning from a charcoal grey to a dark maroon the longer you stand talking.
“I- He ran and- and I followed him and then I lost him and- I don’t- He doubled back on me and I didn’t-” Half of the words coming out of your mouth were almost completely incoherent, and he could see your pupils refusing to dilate even under the direct beam of one of the SUVs’ headlights.
“Okay okay, calm down, take a breath for a second,” Spencer gives your arms a small squeeze to cut off your attempt at an explanation, glancing over your shoulder where the team is still grouped together, with Morgan and Hotch on the phone — presumably for an ambulance and some backup respectively— and the others watching you cautiously, unsure whether they should join in on Spencer’s examination of your health.
“How did you hurt your leg?” You follow Spencer’s gaze downwards towards your thigh, and it’s like the second your eyes recognise what it is you completely loose control of all of your motor functions from waist down.
“Woah—” Spencer takes the sudden change in your weight distribution in his stride, or at least he tries to, shifting his arms underneath your armpits to stop you from hitting the ground underneath you and supporting your weight with his own as he stumbles a few steps backwards. “Guys—”
Emily is at your side immediately, alleviating some of your weight onto herself so the two of them can hold you upright.
“He had a weapon…” You wince under the searing pain in your leg, the adrenaline wearing off fast and hard now that your body knows it’s no longer in danger.
“What kind of weapon?” The concern seeps from Spencer’s voice to soak into your skin, leaving your heart to accelerate under the knowledge that you were injured bad.
“A uh… fork, like a gardening fork… He stabbed me with it…” Although more coherent now, your voice was slowly fading into small mutters and whispers, like the exhaustion in your body was catching up to your mind and making even your tongue too languished to move. “I’m really tired…”
“Hey no- not yet-” Emily shakes her head with a conviction. “There’s an ambulance on the way, you have to stay awake until then,”
“But…”
“Emily‘s right, stay awake you’ll be fine,” Spencer sounds like he’s more trying to convince himself than you as him and Emily support your weight back towards the cluster of SUVs, and the added weight of your head resting against his shoulder doesn’t help his anxiety whatsoever. “Hey, come on…”
He lifts his shoulder slightly to shift your head and you let out a soft noise of discontentment. “I’m awake I’m awake, just conserving my energy…”
“Just keep your eyes open okay?”
You give him a small hum as the two of them sit you down on the hood of one of the cars, and Emily leaves you in Spencer’s care to check with Morgan on the arrival of the ambulance.
“You know that you’re my best friend, right?” You turn your head a little further into Spencer’s shoulder as he becomes the sole pillar of your support, blinking slowly in an attempt to keep your eyes open.
“Don’t say that to me right now,” He shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, a dark line forming between his eyes as the skin pinches together in his worry.
“But you are though,”
“You can remind me of that after you’re in the hospital,”
“I hate hospitals,” You let out a small, fatigued huff, rolling your eyes at the prospect. “I’m gonna be in there for god knows how long and I just wanna find this guy before he hurts anyone else…”
“Well, he has hurt you, and that’s what’s important right now,” Spencer’s tone contradicts itself between concern and relief. You’re alive, but you’re not in good shape. “We need to make sure that you’re okay before anything else,”
And in an act of holy divination — or just coincidence if Spencer was concerned — right as he mentions making sure that you’re okay the blaring lights of the called ambulance come into view, joined by a shrill, sharp ring that seems to echo over the field.
You all but hobble over to it once it’s parked, successful only in the fact that Spencer is actually supporting more of your weight than you were.
At least he stays by your side the entire time.
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