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#Well I can always try it again and see if I prefer it one way or another
grandline-fics · 15 hours
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Hi there! I hope u are doing well, can I request a strawhats crew reaction to a reader who can see ghosts or souls? It can be like their devil fruit power or just something that they're born with. It can be a short fic with all the strawhats or if it's too much it can just be the monster trio, i don't mind either way, do what you prefer! Thanks for letting me request!
DESCRIPTION:  You can see ghosts and spirits
WARNINGS: don’t think it’s too angsty but does mention dead characters. Luffy's is set just before a canon event.
CHARACTERS: Sanji, Zoro, Luffy
WORDS: 1,672
A/N:  Thank you for this request. For some reason I struggled a lot with how I wanted this to go and I hope you're happy with this outcome.
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
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You didn’t really know the rhyme or reason for your gift. It was just always something you had and having grown up being able to see and speak with spirits you’d never felt the need to investigate it. Besides even if you were to learn the reason for your unique talent, it wasn’t like you were ever going to seek out a way to get rid of it. As far as you were concerned it was a part of you and it brought comfort to a lot of people once they got over their shock and in some cases heavy skepticism that you were playing a cruel prank on them. 
When you first set foot on the Thousand Sunny you had to suppress the shiver that ran up your spine as you were hit with an intense feeling that those on the crew were connected to a lost one and the weight of their grief was still heavy on their shoulders even if they didn’t realise it themselves. So you decided to keep your ability to yourself for now and help when the occasion to do so arose. As you set yourself up in your quarters you smiled softly, seeing that you truly were brought onto the crew for a reason. Idly you wondered who in the crew would be the first you would help.
SANJI
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Sanji turned out to be the first. You entered the kitchen and smiled in greeting to the ship’s cook only your gaze to drift behind his shoulder. Your smile fell slightly and you stepped further into the room, peering at Sanji with intent concern. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking the chef by surprise as his own smile faltered. 
“Nothing, now that you’re here.” He insisted, adopting his charming smile once more  but you firmly shook your head, refusing to be convinced by his outward demeanour. Sanji became nervous and let his gaze fall away from you stare, finding it easier to maintain his pretence. Quickly he turned back to his chopping board and continued to prepare food for the evening meal. “What on earth would make you think something was wrong?” He asked, trying to keep his voice level. 
“Your mother only ever shows this clearly when you’re deeply upset about something.” Your voice was soft but it was enough to make Sanji drop his knife against the block with a dull thud. He felt like laughing at the ludicrous statement at the same time he felt like shouting at you for the weird joke. Yet he couldn’t do either. You didn’t know anything about him or his family and he knew it wasn’t in you to say something so heartless. Thankfully he didn’t need to demand you explain yourself because you proved your honesty immediately. “You have her eyes and smile, kind and comforting. She worries when you get like this, hiding how you truly feel.”
Sanji looked over his shoulder to see you smiling fondly at something or rather someone beside him. Desperately he wished he could see what you saw, to see her again but if this was as close as he could get then he would take it a hundred times over. “I don’t want anyone to worry, least of all her.” 
“Sanji we all have bad days and hiding that from the people we care about isn’t the way to do it.” You told him, finally looking at his face again, reaching out to lightly push some of the hair from his eyes. “We have emotions for a reason and no-one expects you to suppress them. I’m always here to listen, okay?” You weren’t surprised to be brought into a tight hug by Sanji and returned the embrace, letting him hold you for as long as he needed.
ZORO
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It took some time for you to finally see the spirit attached to Zoro’s heart with enough clarity to take in her appearance and hear her. It didn’t surprise you that this one took longer, Zoro’s personality never came across as being someone who clung to the past and let it cloud his vision but on a day like this it was clear even Zoro wasn’t invulnerable to the deepest of connections that you could now see had been cut far too soon. 
You’d wandered up to the Crow’s Nest to both take a break from the chaotic noise of Luffy, Franky, Chopper and Usopp and also settle in for your evening watch. This wasn’t anything new so Zoro only gave you a brief glance in greeting before going back to training against one of the reinforced training dummies Franky had made to withstand his attacks enough for a worthwhile practice. However he wasn’t moving the way he wanted, something was wrong with his movements. “You’re forgetting the fundamentals.” 
Your voice came from the seating and Zoro looked over his shoulder to see you were casually leaning against the edge, looking out at the ocean. He cocked his head to the side and arched an eyebrow at you. You weren’t even watching him, how would you know what he was apparently doing wrong? As if feeling his stare, you turned your head to look at him. “You’re getting too stuck in your head, just take a breath and keep it simple.” 
Zoro had to scoff at the advice. Yes, you were a fighter but not a swordsman so to be told what was wrong stung his ego slightly. It’d be like if he tried to tell Franky how to fix the ship. You seemed to read the offence on his face and it surprised him to see you laugh and hold up your hands lightly in defence. “That’s not coming from me, it’s coming from Kuina.”
Kuina? Now Zoro found himself glaring and tensing out of a fear of his private life being pried into. Where had you heard that name? Who told you about her? Not that he confided in many about his childhood friend. You sighed sadly and got to your feet. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen this kind of reaction and it wasn’t surprising that Zoro fell back onto the defensive and become distrustful. You stopped in front of the swordsman and glanced briefly at the spirit at his side.
“She’s happy to see you’ve come so far but your name hasn’t quite reached the heavens yet. You still have a long way to go and she believes in you.” You smiled and lightly punched Zoro’s arm when you saw the belief and shock appear in his no longer skeptical gaze. “Keep getting stronger but don’t forget her father’s teachings okay?”
“I won’t let her down. I made a promise.” Zoro affirmed strongly and you grinned, turning to go back to your seat when he quickly caught your arm, surprising you. You turned and looked at him questioningly. “If she’s still here do you…do you think you can help me speak to her?” 
LUFFY
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It wasn’t much of a surprise to you that Luffy was the one to seek you out. He’d caught some talk from the crew about the things you just seemed to know things about their past or about someone they knew that had passed away. His suspicions were confirmed when you’d all stopped on an island for supplies and you’d helped a grieving family in a way no-one else could. You’d managed to ease their pain and reassure them that their loved one was still with them and had no regrets. When you were back on the Sunny he appeared beside you on the railings, grinning widely and already bouncing with excitement. “You see ghosts right?”
“Yeah, I see them. Not at will though.” You clarified, with Luffy being well Luffy you didn’t want to disappoint him by making him think that what you could was as easily controlled as a Devil Fruit ability which this was not. Still though your statement didn’t deflate him, if anything he only got more excited and he leaned in closer and set his hands on your shoulders. 
“What about me? Is someone with me?” Despite how excited he was you could sense a faint desperation coming from Luffy and you wanted to be able to help but as you’d already told him this wasn’t something that you could manipulate and command freely whenever you wanted. You looked at Luffy carefully and then around him in search of a presence connected to him. Suddenly you felt a warmth and made out the outline of a man standing behind your Captain and you couldn’t help but smile.
“Ace.” You felt like you were saying it in greeting. You’d known about Luffy’s brother but never had the pleasure of actually getting to meet him. It was almost eerie how both Luffy and Ace grinned so happily and in sync but it was also so infectious. Luffy seemed pleased but then seemed to be eager for more. 
“Is it just Ace? Is anyone else with him? Maybe younger?” He asked and you slowly shook your head with a small frown. 
“Sorry Luffy, just Ace.” You said, disappointed that you couldn’t give Luffy what he wanted and seeing him sigh slightly and lower his gaze briefly made you feel guilty even though you knew it wasn’t your fault. Still though you couldn’t help but look to Ace, silently pleading for assistance on his part. However the brother only smirked knowingly and you began to suspect that Ace knew something you and Luffy didn’t. Thankfully that was all you needed to cheer Luffy up. “Just because I don’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not with you though Luffy. Maybe next time whoever it is you’re thinking about will be there instead?” 
“Yeah you’re right!” Luffy grinned while leaping up onto the railing, his previous excited energy returning instantly. Before you could speak any more, Law’s voice called for Luffy wanting to go over the plan for when you all would be reaching Dressrosa in just a couple days time. 
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bloodsuckingfiends · 7 hours
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not even going anon for this. horny on main always pls. offering a lil Rolan headcanon I've been stewing on recently. I plan to make something of it eventually, but perhaps you can drabble from it now to sate me :)
Rolan is usually one to prefer softer sex - unending eye contact, kisses, more "romantic" positions.
Tav finally convinces him to take her from behind, and he's hesitant at first - until the sight of him unleashes something filthy and primal within him. It's as if he snaps, quickly shifting from slow, hesitant movements to desperate thrusts filled with raw desire. Soft kisses along her neck turn into love nips and then full on mating bites as her hips arch back into his - yeah. Just full on, animalistic urges, breathy grunts in her ear, Rolan 🥲🥵
AHHHHH making a usually soft man absolutely feral? Yes please 🥵
From Behind
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It wasn’t that Tav was disappointed in her and Rolan's sex life. No it was quite the opposite actually. Rolan was a more than attentive lover, always taking into consideration Tav’s pleasure over his own. Always making sure that she reached her peak at least once before he even considered climbing towards his own.
Whilst in town one evening, shopping for a particular book, Tav had overheard a rather, intimate natured conversation that two women were whispering and giggling over.
“-from behind? And does it feel any different?”
“Oh quite! Much better if you ask me. Hits that spot almost every time.” The woman murmured to her friend whose face held utter astonishment.
“I’ll have to see if Maldor would be willing to try.”
Tav’s face blushed a deep color at the realization of just what the the two women had been chatting about. She quickly grabs what she was looking for, pays and leaves, face never changing shade from the deep flush from earlier.
Later that night, as Tav tucks into bed beside Rolan, and settles in to sleep, the wizard rolls over to pull her back against his chest like usual. Tav's breath hitches when his hips settle against her ass, her mind immediately shifting to what she had overheard at the shops.
"Are you alright?" Rolan leans up on his elbow, eyes looking over her to check for discomfort.
Tav startles at the sound of his almost gruff voice, "Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm alright."
"You're quite skittish, dear, did I do something to upset you?" the wizard gently pushes on her shoulder, getting her to roll over onto her back so he can get a good look at her face.
Her face which is flushed all over again, with eyes that are pointedly trying not to meet Rolan's.
Rolan moves his hand away from her shoulder, not wanting to cross any boundaries, even if he's unaware of any. Tav worries her bottom lip with her teeth, before meeting his concerned gaze.
"No, no you didn't do anything, my love. Just a long day is all." the lie leaves her mouth suspiciously quick, and Rolan notices the way she nervously swallows after speaking it.
"Tav, if you need your space, I am more than happy to give it to yo-"
"It's not that!" she cuts him off, "I just thought of something... specific, when you, well, you pressed against my ass."
The tiefling raises a brow at her, "What- Tav what are you talking about?" He's utterly confused at the way she's stumbling over her words over something so simple.
Tav sighs in defeat and avoids Rolan's gaze while speaking her next words, "While at the shop this evening, I overheard two women talking about their, well... intimate lives. And well, one of them mentioned how good it feels to be- well, to be taken from behind." She finishes and takes a breath before meeting his eyes once again.
"Is that something you'd like to try?" he asks so casually that it throws Tav off for a moment. Rolan was one who preferred more intimate positions, usually favoring missionary. He liked being able to watch Tav's features as they contorted with pleasure and reacted to his ministrations, liked being able to lock eyes with her as she came apart around him.
"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to it, I suppose. Only if you would be okay with it of cour-mmph." Rolan's lips meet Tav's in an abrupt kiss, affectively cutting off her anxious rambling.
"I am more than willing to try this with you, dear." he mumbles between kisses, his hand beginning to roam down her side to rest on her hip.
Tav deepens the kiss, tongue darting out to meet his, her hands coming up to rest on the ridged planes of his chest. Her fingers trace over the infernal ridges, before coming up to rest on his broad shoulders. She gasps into Rolan's mouth when she feels his fingers trail down her belly, toying at the edge of her panties, before dipping inside and gathering her wetness on his middle finger.
"So wet already. Just from the thought of me fucking you." he murmurs against her jaw, kissing along the bone.
"Please-" Tav begs. For what? She's not entirely sure.
"So needy." Rolan teases as he swipes his finger in little circles around her throbbing clit. His rhythm steady, his touch light. Tav's thighs tense, then instinctively fall open a bit more, the sensation almost too much.
"Want you to come for me before I fuck you from behind, can you do that for me?" he whispers against her lips, finger dipping to her fluttering hole, wetting itself to continue circling her.
"Mmhm." Tav whines desperately, her own fingers clasping around his forearm, already climbing to her peak. It's not long before her thighs begin to shake, her core clenching as she tumbles over the ledge. She throws her head back as Rolan finally dips two of his fingers into her spasming cunt. He fucks her through her orgasm, lips pressing wet kisses to her exposed throat, whispering praises against the taut skin.
"Always so good for me. Now I want you on your knees sweetheart." He holds a hand out for her to take as she lifts to her wobbly knees. As she kneels before him, he gets into position behind her.
One clawed hand traces up Tav's spine, making it's way up to the back of her neck to grip and push her down into place. Her elbows meet the mattress. A shocked sound huffs past Tav's lips, and Rolan's hands caress over her hips, kneading the plush flesh lovingly.
He reaches down, taking his length in hand, he drags the tip through her wet folds.
"Are you ready to take me, dear?" he asks lovingly, notching his head in her entrance. Tav nods, looking back over her shoulder to meet his amber gaze.
When he pushes into her, she gasps. The head of him instantly brushing against that sweet spot nestled deep inside her. Rolan bends forward, an arm scooping around Tav's middle to pull her up against his chest. His thrusts pick up speed, his hips rutting into her frantically.
"Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like this?" he almost hisses the words. The hand wrapped around Tav, gropes at her breasts, squeezing the flesh and teasing at her peaked nipples.
"Yes yes yes." Tav chants breathily as he relentlessly pounds into her g-spot. She can feel her second orgasm building in the pit of her stomach.
"Gonna fill you up like this. Gonna fill you with my cum." Rolan groans into her neck, his free hand coming up to rest on her belly. "I'm so close."
"Come in me. Please, I wanna feel you fill me." Tav whimpers, holding onto his forearms.
With a guttural moan, Rolan releases into Tav, his seed flooding her walls being the thing that triggers her own orgasm.
Rolan thrusts a couple of more times, riding out their highs, before gently pulling out of her. He takes her into his arms, carefully laying her down to rest. Tav lays her head on his chest, making attempts to catch her breath.
"So, was it what you hoped it would be?" Rolan laughs as he tries to catch his own.
"Everything and more." Tav dopily smiles.
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verstappen-cult · 3 months
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GETTING CAUGHT MAKING OUT WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID
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INTRODUCING THE BOYS. lando norris. charles leclerc. oscar piastri. max verstappen. alex albon. daniel ricciardo. mick schumacher. logan sargeant. BONUS. . . lance stroll.
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★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)
it stared with a couple of innocent kisses in lando’s driver room before the race. you don’t usually engage in that kind of behavior at least until after a race, but lando was feeling a little under the weather and while you were only trying to comfort him, he had other plans. and, well, if that makes him feel better you won’t deny him a little bit of fun. now, you’re straddling your boyfriend’s thighs, it’s hot and you want to rip your top and his fireproofs off, and lando, as always, is one step ahead of you. his hands slip under your shirt, the pad of his fingers softly caressing your skin as his lips find the pulse point on your neck. you don’t know if the whimper you hear belongs to you or lando, the only thing you know is that the race can wait a few minutes.
“lando it’s time to g–” you don’t hear the end of the sentence because lando’s race engineer it’s too stunned to finish speaking. you’re quick to jump off of your boyfriend’s lap, but you’ve been caught and it’s impossible to deny what you were doing, there’s evidence on yours and lando’s face. the man just laughs and closes the door, saying something about keeping his head clear of any distraction.
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★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)
you were just trying to help charles clean his shirt after you spilled your drink on top of him. but he was so close to you, his breath tickling your cheek and sending a shiver down your spine, and it just happened. the kiss was shy at first, both of you uncertain of what you were doing. but then you were being lifted up by charles and sat down on the sink, legs immediately parting to make room for him. you didn’t care that you were in dani’s guest bathroom and anyone could walk in on you, you also didn’t care when charles’ hands found your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh while his mouth kept the assault in yours, neither did you care when those same hands lifted your dress up, up and up until you could clearly feel the effect your kisses were making on him.
you were ready to ask charles to do something when the door opened startling you both. charles stepped away and you jumped off the sink, trying to brush your hair and looked presentable to the owner of the house who was now looking at you, surprise written all over his face before bursting out laughing. “guys! you won’t believe this!” it only took a panicked looked between you and charles for the boy to sprint down the hallway to try and shut his friend up.
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★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)
you don’t know if australia has something in the air or if being in oscar’s childhood bedroom is making you feel a certain way. but the second the door closes, you’re leading him to the bed. oscar is a little uncertain at first and looks like he’s about to say something, but the words die in his throat the moment your lips find his. he doesn’t wait a minute in taking control, and lays you down on the bed, his body on top of yours. then your impromptu kissing session it’s not enough, you need to feel him closer, you want his hands everywhere.
“would you like some lemonade?” it’s too late for you to pretend to be doing something else than being in an intense making out session when oscar’s mom, the woman you’ve just met that same day, opens the door. when she sees the scene, she quickly closes her eyes, hiding behind her hands. it would make you laugh if it were any other situation. oscar doesn’t move but looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “i did not see a thing!” you would pretty much prefer for the earth to swallow you whole than to face the woman again.
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★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)
it’s not max’s fault that you look so, so good in that damn dress that all he wants is to rip it off of you. if the FIA gala wasn’t so important—it’s not. not for him, at least—he would get out of there immediately. instead, he has to settle with crowding you against a wall in a secluded corner of the building when he finally has some time for you. he can barely keep his hands to himself, and is touching you even before you can feel his lips against yours. max whispers sweet nothings as his lips go from your mouth to your neck and then up again, making you feel dizzy. he lifts your dress up around your thighs, and you allow him access in a heartbeat, not caring about anything but how addicting his kisses are.
“ejem,” a cough makes max pull away, and doesn’t hesitate on shielding your body with his, giving you enough time to fix up your clothes. “we’re next.” christian horner tries to look at anywhere but you, and you don’t know if you’re supposed to laugh or feel ashamed. both, probably. max dismisses him with a simple nod of his head, and once you’re alone, max goes back to what he was doing before. you still have a few minutes to spare, he says.
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★ — ALEX ALBON (23)
you were having the time of your life choosing an outfit for a party next week, your boyfriend waiting for you just outside the changing room; you actually were focused on trying to zip up a beautiful black dress you had chosen when the door opened, revealing alex with a mischievous smile on his face. as quick as he opened it, he closed it behind him. you didn’t question him, it’s definitely not the first time he’s done something like this, so, you, more than happy, welcomed him with open arms and a set of pink and plump lips. and alex is immediately swiping his tongue across your bottom lip and kissing your properly—kissing you so slow while gently cupping your face, trying to take as much as he wants from you, and you’re ready to give it to him freely.
“is someone there?” a girl’s voice startles you both, but before you can think of hiding alex or saying something—not that you can with your boyfriend’s mouth against yours—she’s opening the door. neither you nor alex know what to do other than to stay very still and very quiet, as if that would make the girl forget what she saw.
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★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)
you told daniel that hiding in the airplane bathroom to make out wasn’t a good idea, but you still got up and went voluntarily when he gave you the signal. waiting for him to knock was torture, you were pretty sure you were going to get caught. but when you opened the door and your boyfriend pulled you in to finally kiss you, you forgot about everything. the way daniel kisses should be illegal—how he lets you take the lead until your kisses become sloppy and your head feels dizzy and you can’t keep up with it because it feels so good. then he takes control, gripping your waist with such force it’ll leave marks; the mere thought makes you weak in the knees.
“open up! you can’t do that in here.” a huge knock on the door makes you pull away, but daniel doesn’t let you go, chasing after you until you give up and kiss him again. this time the kisses are more intense and the tiny bathroom it’s too warm and you’re wearing too many clothes. the person behind the door is forgotten the moment daniel gets so close that you become one. you’re already in trouble, so, it’s doesn’t matter if you stay a few more minutes in there.
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★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)
kissing at clubs is not something you would’ve done in the past, not even when lights are so low and no one cares what the person next to you is doing. but ever since you started dating mick, there are a lot of things you’ve already done that you never thought you would do. and making out in a corner of the club with mick pressing against the window, his body molding into yours just in the right spots is definitely one of them. mick is practically knocking the air out of your lungs with the way he’s kissing you, and you have to hold onto his shoulders afraid of melting to the ground. you don’t know where you are, and you really don’t care as long as mick keeps kissing you like that, so you don’t push him away when you feel his hand making its way up your thigh, getting closer to where you need him the most.
but then you hear people laughing. mick pulls away first, groaning for being interrupted, but then you look around and you’re right next to the bathroom from where a group of girls are walking out. you feel all the blood in your body rushing to your face, they look amused but you want to disappear. you hide your face in your boyfriend’s chest and don’t look up until mick is the one lifting your chin up to kiss you. this time he takes your hand while saying something about going home to finish what you started.
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★ — LOGAN SARGEANT (2)
it’s childish. and all of you are adults. you definitely should not be playing truth or dare in a party like thirteen years old. however, you don’t say anything when oscar dares you to spend seven minutes in the closet with logan. it’s true you both have been dancing around each other for a while now, what you didn’t know it’s that it was so obvious for everyone around you too. the cheering from your friends dies down when the door closes and you and logan are alone. you look into each other’s eyes for a minute, pure silence in the secluded space, then logan glances down at your lips and you suck in a sharp breath when you realize he’s asking for permission. your eyelashes flutter as you take a step closer, and he wraps his arms around your waist without a trace of hesitation. you’re gasping into his mouth the next second, his lips warm and soft. his fingers brush along your jaw and, in that moment, you decide this won’t be the last time you’re gonna be tasting his lips, you want to do it every hour of every day.
but then the door opens and you immediately pull away as if you’ve been burned. there are a lot of eyes looking between you and logan for a moment before someone shouts “fucking finally!” and everyone’s laughing and cheering. when you look at logan again, he has a lopsided grin plastered on his face.
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★ — LANCE STROLL (18)
lance made sure you two were alone in his parent’s house before taking you in his arms and sitting on the couch. he smiles at you with the same bright and pretty smile that stole your heart one time two years ago as you run your hands through lance’s hair, down his neck and over his shoulders, letting them rest on his chest. lance grabs onto your waist and meets your lips halfway, all his body relaxing immediately. he kisses you so softly but determined, licking into your mouth when you give him access, like it’s his last day on earth and he needs you to keep breathing, surviving. you let his hands roam freely over your body and you can feel your heart pounding so hard, almost as if it’s gonna jump out of your chest and you can’t do anything about it. when your boyfriend’s hands graze your lower back for a second before grabbing your arse, a tiny mewl escapes you.
and as you’re about to grind down, “oh my god!” lance’s sister screams in surprise. you both look at her, more embarrassed than afraid. you know your cheeks and ears are as pink as the shirt you’re wearing, and you feel like your skin is actually burning. ”well, i guess we had the same thought.” she says stepping aside, her boyfriend coming into view with a shy smile on his face.
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requested by @biancathecool. . . The boys (individually) Nd fem!reader getting caught making out, with the driver having thier hands shoved down their gfs pants or up their shirt 🫠❤️ Alsin if you could please add lance in this one.
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© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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notmyneighbor · 29 days
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Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 3
Word Count ~ 2.5k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
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You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.
The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.
There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.
The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.
He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.
Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”
The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”
“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”
“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”
You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.
“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.
You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.
Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.
I say I'll move the mountains
And I'll move the mountains
If he wants them out of the way
You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.
The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.
You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”
“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”
“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.
“You asked me to tell you.”
“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”
Like the wind that shakes the bough
He moves me with a smile
“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”
The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”
“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”
”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”
You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.
He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.
I say I'll care forever
And I mean forever
He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.
He kisses you.
You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.
Crazy he calls me
Sure, I'm crazy
Crazy in love am I
“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.
His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.
“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.
The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.
There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.
You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.
“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.
The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.
The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.
Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.
The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.
Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.
It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”
You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.
“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.
“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.
“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.
You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”
The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.
“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.
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lovrspell · 2 months
Text
Astarion not being used to someone that cares for his pleasure as much as you do.
warnings: 18+, fluff, breeding kink if you squint, aftercare, overstimulation, settled early in the relationship. reader is gn!
word count: 1,4k
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Astarion that, guiding you through your climax with slow drags of his hips, flinches when you pull him into a leg lock and wrap your arms around him the same way a koala does to a tree trunk. That is when you realize, even through your blurry vision and confused senses, he was about to pull out of your sex before he could reach his own peak.
He always does this, but this time you wouldn't let him. He has the right to enjoy the moment the same way you do.
You've thought that he does it simply because he prefers to finish up alone with his own hands, as he had done in front of you numerous times before; but you were wrong.
The truth is, he doesn't even think about it. He focuses on your pleasure, neglecting his own and even edging himself way more than he probably enjoys for the sake of your orgasms; accustomed to this way of things, as it has always been him pleasing other people that most of the time never gave his pleasure more than a elusive thought, it comes natural for him to bring you to ecstasy and not worry about enjoying his own too much.
You shouldn't blame yourself for not realizing it sooner, though. After all, your romantic journey has just recently started.
He admits, he was pretty startled at first; the sudden movement had shook him out of his own trance-like state, focused on the sensations. That dazed, imploring look that he's so used to when he buries himself deep inside you meets his own eyes, and his muscles soften again.
You're gasping and panting, but despite that you manage to whisper to him,
“Stay with me. You're not done yet, are you?”
He's surprised. He didn't even understand why, honestly. Maybe, he didn't expect you to worry about that; everyone is greedy in regards of their pleasure, right?
...But not you.
In the end, it makes sense. You love him. It should be obvious that you care about his pleasure too.
However, he's not even familiar to that bare minimum.
His hips falter and he loses focus for a moment, before shaking his head ‘no’.
He felt your legs loosen around his hips so you could slide your hands over his waist, your grip gentle and reassuring. You give his flesh an encouraging squeeze before beginning to guide his hips towards your throbbing entrance.
Astarion gasps softly, his lips parting in delight as he makes no further effort to move his hips on his own: he lets himself be guided by you, melting away in ecstasy.
He can't help but notice the fact that your thighs are shaking, though. He sees tears in the corners of your eyes, the way you bite your lip nervously, the way you try to hold back whimpers and consequently inhale sharply every once in a while.
This is too much for you.
You're far beyond your climax and it wasn't even the first one: you're oversensitive, yet you push his hips towards yours with determination because you wish for him to finish with you, inside you.
“I-... I can stop if you want me to,” Astarion murmurs, strangely aroused by that realization that had just occurred in his mind.
“No... No. Just tell me when you're close.” you reply immediately, showing no hesitation nor willingness to stop this.
Just because it's too much, it doesn't mean it doesn't feel good for you. Well, maybe it's just too good, actually. Astarion hears you curse under your breath as you struggle to keep your grip firm on him, and decides to regain control, adjusting himself more comfortably between your legs. He grabs your waist and starts thrusting into you in a pace of his own; he's shaking, his eyes closed as he falls into a state of pure bliss in which he's neither too far nor too close to his orgasm.
He feels your hands slowly snake towards his along your own body. Your fingers intertwine around his and as he absentmindedly looks up at your face, he catches your lips curl in a small smile. A smile that, printed on your pleasure-contorted face, is a view that manages to make his cock twitch as he fucks you.
You're happy. You're happy because he's climaxing inside you, thanks to you, thanks to your touch and your wet and warm and inviting walls clenching around him —
He's with you. He's still there.
Before he could ask why you're smiling, his hips falter again and he feels a sweet shiver run down his spine. He's close, so deliciously close.
“Ah,” he whimpers, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewing on it. His brows furrow and he closes his eyes tightly. His back arches towards you and he leans in without thinking, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He trembles and he mumbles your name in your ear, over and over, hips chasing a relentless rhythm. Your own whimpers fill his ears as you arms wrap around his back, holding him close; it's so much, but you're willing to handle it for him. He has brought you to multiple orgasms in a single round several times, it's not like you're not used to it.
Next, his hands clutch your hips tightly and he groans as your walls clench tightly around his cock, sucking him in as if urging to not pull out. He welcomes that invitation.
Sloppy sounds, gasps and growls of excitement fill the room as, with one last hard, deep thrust he releases his cum inside you. He freezes, keeping his cock buried there — as deep inside you as possible, making you take every last drop of his semen.
Your walls tighten around him, your sex swells once more, but you don't reach another orgasm. That's fine, you think. Your focus is on Astarion and Astarion only.
He pulls back from your neck to rest his forehead against your own. He growls lowly as the pleasure dies down, a guttural sound that echoes through your being.
You've never seen him like this after any of his orgasms — and you've seen quite a few by now. He looks like he's in pure bliss, eyes half lidded and lips curved in a lazy smile. He's in heaven, you can tell. It's a good look on him.
“How do you feel?” you ask him, voice velvety and calm as you cradle him in your arms.
He doesn't pull out of you, rather stays perfectly still to not bother your tired, swollen sex — but he wants to cherish the feeling of your warmth hugging his cock a little longer.
You're fiery, both inside and out. It feels sublime.
“Mh.”
That's how you know it felt good.
“Mhm,” you echo him, nudging his forehead with yours and taking advantage of the closeness to steal a kiss from him.
“I truly cannot understand why I've never done this before.” he confesses, his voice an intimate whisper reserved to you and you only. He leans into you, pressing your sweaty bodies together.
“What? Come inside me?” you laugh quietly, moving a few wild curls away from his vision.
“Exactly that, love.”
“I guess it's better late than never.”
“You felt so good it's criminal I've never even gave it a thought.” he continues, giving you a sloppy kiss and letting his lips linger on your own for a bit longer, before he trails his mouth down your neck.
He prints tiny wet kisses all the way down your collarbone. You chuckle: it tickles a bit.
Although lying in his fluids combined with yours felt divine beyond comprehension and you didn't like the thought of putting off cuddling in bed until later at all, you had a tiring day ahead of you after tonight. It was already late: you have to settle down for the night. You have to sleep and, well, he might do for some meditation, or he could spend the night watching you sleep. A bit unsettling, but you've grown used to it.
“...Let's go take a bath, come on.” you whisper in his ear after a few moments of silence and, although the sigh against your skin lets you know that he wants to stay like this a little longer too, he gives a hum of approval.
After all, he doesn't care where he is as long as he can bask in your embraces.
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pucksandpower · 6 months
Text
Breaking Point
Charles Leclerc x Ferrari!Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc finally reaches his breaking point after the disaster that was the United States Grand Prix. Something needs to change … and that’s where you come in
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“Again, again!” Charles’ voice rings out, echoing through the debrief room, “How can we mess this up? I was on pole!”
Fred Vasseur looks down, sighing, but trying to maintain composure. “Charles, it was a miscalculation—”
“A miscalculation?” Charles retorts, eyes blazing, “This has been a trend all season, Fred. It’s not a one-time mistake. It’s systemic.”
Carlos, looking uncomfortable, tries to chime in, “It wasn’t just about strategy, you know the car—”
“Oh, I know the car,” Charles snaps, “And it was built against my driving preference. But it’s not just that. It’s everything. The poor race strategy, the unnecessary swap, and now being disqualified as if my day has not been bad enough!”
Enrico Cardile, the team’s technical director, steps forward, “Disqualification was not anticipated. We followed the regulations to the best—”
“Enough with the excuses!” Charles’ voice cracks with emotion. The weight of the season, the betrayal he feels, finally makes him see red. “Every time there’s an excuse. We’re a team and yet somehow it feels like I’m constantly battling not just our opponents but Ferrari as well.”
A deep silence settles.
The head strategist, Ravin Jain, finally speaks up hesitantly, “We thought the one-stop made sense. The data suggested—”
“Data,” Charles interrupts bitterly, “The same data that led to a decision that every other team on the grid laughed at! Did the data also suggest swapping me with Carlos? Or was I being punished for being able to manage my tires?”
Carlos, despite himself, looks hurt. “I didn’t ask for the swap,” he mutters.
Charles takes a breath, looking at his teammate, “I know. It’s not your fault, hermano. But I need to trust the team’s decisions. And right now, I don’t.”
Sporting Director Diego Ioverno tries to mediate, “It’s been a tough season, Charles. Everyone is understandably stressed. Let’s sit down, review everything together, and find a way forward.”
Charles shakes his head, “That’s what we said last time. And the time before that. And the twenty times before that! Empty promises, meetings, discussions, and then what? Nothing gets done and there is another disaster waiting to happen.”
Fred tries one more time, “We’re as frustrated as you are. We’re a family. We’ll figure this out.”
Charles scoffs, “I can’t keep being let down and used. Not like this.”
The room falls silent once more, a heavy cloud of disappointment and tension hanging in the air.
Carlos reaches out, placing a hand on Charles’ shoulder, “Things will get better.”
Charles meets Carlos’ gaze, nodding slightly. But the fire in his eyes has not dimmed, “I need to believe in this team again. But right now ...” He pauses, “I have a call to make.”
He turns, leaving the room filled with introspective silence. The team is left behind, grappling with their own emotions, knowing that actions will always speak louder than words.
***
Charles steps out into the warm evening air, taking a moment to compose himself before dialing a number he knows by heart but hasn’t touched in months.
“Hey,” Charles’ voice is a low rasp, every ounce of weariness evident.
Then a pause, as he listens to the voice on the other end.
“Yeah, it’s me ... look, I know what I said earlier this season. About handling it myself.” He takes a deep breath, letting the weight of it all settle.
A longer pause, broken by Charles’ intermittent nods and “Uh-huhs.”
“Every race feels like it’s been one disaster after another. And it’s not just the car, it’s everything. I can’t ... I can’t keep doing this to myself.”
He listens closely.
“I told them today, laid it all out. But it’s like talking to a brick wall. They listen, they nod, and then? The same mistakes. Over and over.”
He shifts his weight, the sound of his shoes scraping on the gravel echoing softly.
“I know, I know I told you not to get involved ... but maybe ... maybe that was a mistake.” He sounds defeated, a man at the end of his rope. “I need help. Real help. Maybe it’s time you step in.”
Charles is silent, absorbing whatever the person on the other end is saying.
“No, it’s not about leaving the team,” Charles’ voice is earnest, desperate even. “It’s about respect. Trust. It’s about feeling like I’m not constantly fighting against the tide, not just against other teams but within my own garage.”
A long pause.
“What I mean is, maybe some changes within the team would be good. Fresh perspectives. New faces, perhaps. Somewhere I can trust the decisions, the strategy ...”
He sighs.
“I just want to race, you know? Without all this drama. Without constantly wondering if I’m being set up to fail no matter what I do.”
Another pause as he listens, nodding, lost in the gravity of the decision he’s about to make.
“Thank you. Really. Let’s talk tomorrow? Lay out all our options?”
There’s a moment of quiet, only the sound of his breathing, the distant hum of the circuit, the world slowly dimming around him.
“Thanks. Goodnight, Y/N.”
***
“Emilia,” you call out, and before a moment passes, your ever-efficient personal assistant is by your side.
“Yes, Y/N?” Emilia asks, perfectly poised.
“I need the jet prepared. We’re heading to Mexico City,” you say, voice steady and determined though inside, the turmoil from the phone call with Charles still lingers.
Emilia raises an eyebrow slightly, a silent question in her eyes. “Any particular reason?”
You sigh, looking away for a moment, reflecting on the weight of the legacy you carry. “Scuderia Ferrari needs my direct attention. I trusted them to handle things, but ... it’s clear that has not been happening.”
Her eyes flash with understanding. “Of course. I’ll have the jet ready. When do you wish to depart?”
“Tomorrow morning, early.”
She’s already typing into her tablet. “I’ll book you the Presidential Suite at the Four Seasons. Will you be needing a meeting space there?”
“Absolutely,” you nod. “On Wednesday, before the Grand Prix. Organize for all team personnel to meet in the hotel conference room. And Emilia ... they are not to know the reason for the meeting or that I’m the one calling it.”
Her eyes gleam with a hint of mischief, “Mystery and surprise. I love it. Consider it done.”
A small, wry smile tugs at your lips. “Thank you. And can you make sure Charles knows about my arrival? But ask him to keep it quiet.”
“Of course. Anything else?”
You pause, taking a moment to consider. “Just one more thing. Make sure we have everything we need to review the team’s decisions and strategies for this season. Every little detail.”
Emilia nods. “Absolutely. Everything will be arranged as per your instructions.”
You take a deep breath, “Thanks, Emilia. This … it’s about preserving a legacy, and right now, that legacy is on shaky ground.”
She places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “If anyone can steer this ship right, it’s you.”
***
The door to the conference room opens with a low creak, and the room immediately falls silent. Everyone turns to see you entering, your presence commanding every ounce of attention.
“Good afternoon,” you begin with ice-cold authority. “Thank you all for meeting on such short notice.”
There are murmurs of acknowledgment but no one dares speak up.
“I’ve reviewed our performance this season,” you continue, pacing the length of the conference room, letting each word sink in. “And to say I’m disappointed would be an understatement.”
Fred shifts uncomfortably in his seat, eyes darting around the room. You lock eyes with him, “Fred, you promised change. But the only change I’ve seen is our team’s steep decline.”
“I understand your frustration,” Fred stammers, “We’ve faced challenges—”
You cut him off sharply, “Challenges? Every team faces challenges. What matters is how you overcome them.”
Several team members look down, uncomfortably shuffling papers and avoiding eye contact.
You turn to the strategists, “Your decisions have cost us dearly, time and time again. Your inability to read a race situation, to adapt, to strategize effectively ... it’s quite frankly appalling.”
One of the strategists, a middle-aged man named Roberto, speaks up defensively, “We did our best with the information we had.”
Your eyes narrow, “Your best? Tell that to Charles, who has been left out in the cold race after race.”
Moving on, you address the engineers and designers, “Our car has issues that should have been rectified at the beginning of the season. Yet here we are, still struggling.”
An aerodynamicist named Lucia, clearly agitated, stands up. “We’ve been working tirelessly, trying to find solutions.”
You level her with a gaze, “Then maybe it’s time we look for people who can find those solutions more efficiently.”
Lucia’s face reddens, “You can’t just—”
“Actually I can,” you interrupt, “And I will.”
Your attention turns to Xavi, Charles’ race engineer, who has been noticeably silent. “Xavi, your dynamic with Charles has not been the slightest bit helpful. His feedback, his needs ... they’ve fallen on deaf ears.”
Xavi, trying to defend himself, says, “It’s a two-way street. Charles can be difficult.”
You shake your head, “Charles is a world-class driver. It’s your job to bridge any gaps, not widen them. I checked and it turns out that constantly repeating we are checking like a broken record is not beneficial for race performance!”
Taking a deep breath, you make your announcement, “Effective immediately, Roberto, Lucia, and several other strategists, engineers, and aerodynamicists that a personal audit revealed as detrimental to team performance relieved of their duties. Xavi, you too are let go.”
There are gasps around the room, the weight of your words sinking in. Roberto stands, fuming in anger, “You can’t just dismantle this team!”
You lock eyes with him, “I’m not dismantling. I’m rebuilding. And if that means letting go of every one of you who can’t uphold the standards of Scuderia Ferrari then so be it.”
Fred finally speaks up, “And what about me?”
You lean in, “Consider your position on very thin ice. I expect results. And fast.”
You straighten up, the room thick with tension, “Scuderia Ferrari is not just a team, it’s a legacy. My great-grandfather would be rolling in his grave to see what has been done to his beloved team. I will not stand by and watch it crumble.”
With a final, piercing gaze around the room, you pivot on your heel and exit with a flick of your hair.
***
You lean against the cool wall, taking a moment to gather yourself after the emotional intensity of the meeting. The hallway is quiet save for the distant hum of voices but soon familiar footsteps make their way around the corner.
“Charles,” you call out softly as spot the driver.
His green eyes, clouded with a mix of emotions, meet yours. “Y/N.”
“Are you okay?”
He hesitates, “I wasn’t expecting all of that.”
You nod, “It was long overdue. I should have intervened much sooner.”
Charles runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to process everything. “It’s ... a lot. I didn’t think you would actually step in like this.”
You sigh, “I hoped I wouldn’t have to. But my bisnonno once said that aerodynamics are for people who can’t build engines, and right now, it sure seems like Ferrari can’t do either.”
Charles chuckles dryly, “You have a point. It’s been ... frustrating.”
You gently touch his arm, trying to reassure him, “Enzo also believed that dreams become bigger, much bigger, to build a car that doesn’t slow in the curves, that flies without leaving the ground. I want that dream for you. For us.”
He looks at you, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. A car that allows me to race to my full potential.”
You nod, thinking of the iconic red car and its tremendous legacy, “I know. And we’ll get there. Remember, racing cars are neither beautiful nor ugly. They become beautiful when they win.”
A smile tugs at Charles’ lips, “I haven’t won in too long. I almost forget what it feels like.”
You step closer, “That is going to change. I’m here for the long haul. To rebuild, restructure, and reclaim the Ferrari legacy. Glory will be dressed in red once more.”
He nods and swallows thickly. “Thank you, Y/N. It means more than you know.”
You smile softly, “We’re a team. And I promise to do whatever it takes to see us on top again.”
***
Early that Friday at Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez, you gather the team in the garage.
“Good morning, everyone,” you begin. “I know it has been a whirlwind these past few days but I want to set the tone for this weekend.”
Fred, still adjusting to the new dynamic, nods silently from the back.
“We haven’t had the time to implement any physical changes to the car,” you continue, “But they are coming. For now, the difference will be about being smart … being strategic.”
Charles listens intently, his gaze occasionally drifting to the newcomers in front of him.
Speaking of the new additions, you gesture to the two people standing on either side of you, “I’ve brought on Marit Nilsen as our Principal Strategy Engineer and Claudio Segreti as Charles’ new race engineer. Not only are they exceptional engineers but also global chess masters.”
There are murmurs of surprise and interest among the crew. The world of Formula 1 and professional chess has rarely, if ever, intersected.
Marit, a tall woman with striking blonde hair, steps forward, “Chess is all about strategy, foreseeing the opponent’s moves and countering them. That’s what we’re here to do but on the track.”
Claudio, with his dark hair and deep-set eyes, adds, “Every move and decision we make will be precise. We’ll anticipate, adapt, and overcome.”
Carlos clears his throat, “So what’s the plan for free practice?”
You smile, “Today, we observe. We learn. We see where the car stands, where our strengths and weaknesses lie.”
As free practice commences, there’s a different energy in the garage. Marit, with her sharp analytical mind, quickly picks up on patterns, working closely with Claudio and Carlos’ engineer to ensure both drivers get feedback they need.
There’s a visible shift throughout the weekend. The team, rejuvenated by fresh perspectives, operates with a renewed vigor. And while the car may not have upgrades yet, new strategy quickly begins to make a difference like anticipated.
Qualifying sees Charles securing P3, an unexpected but welcome result. The garage is full of cautious hope but Marit and Claudio remain focused, already planning for the race to come.
Race day dawns and the tension is thick. You pull Charles aside, “Remember, things have changed. Believe in the strategy and the moves we make.”
He nods, “I trust them. And I trust you.”
As the lights go out and the cars roar to life, Charles delivers a performance that’s both calculated and aggressive. Every pit stop and every overtake is orchestrated like a chess match.
The race sees Charles finishing in P2 and Carlos in P4, a significant improvement from recent races.
The garage is a mix of tentative elation and relief.
Marit thoroughly reviews the race data, “This is just the beginning. Once the car upgrades are in place, the board will be ours.”
The sun sets on the Mexico City Grand Prix, but for Scuderia Ferrari, a new dawn is on the horizon.
***
“Fabiano Turati,” you muse, looking at the impressive portfolio before you. “Aerospace engineer, a key player in the development of hypercars for Agnellotti Motors, a professor at Politecnico di Milano. But never in F1?”
Fabiano, with salt and pepper hair and an air of quiet confidence, smiles slightly. “It’s not for lack of offers. I have just always believed in pushing boundaries outside of traditional paths.”
You lean back, intrigued, “So why Ferrari now?”
His eyes scan around the garage, “A challenge. An opportunity. A legacy to uphold. And, to put it simply, I think I can make a difference.”
You nod, appreciative of his candor. “We have three races left this season: Brazil, Las Vegas, and Abu Dhabi. Realistically, how much can we improve?”
You can practically see the gears in his brain turning, “In terms of complete redesign? Not much. But in terms of optimization and efficiency? Quite a bit.”
By the Brazilian Grand Prix, Fabiano’s influence is evident. While not a complete transformation, the SF-23 sports streamlined wings and a refined rear diffuser, maximizing what the current design allows.
“Initial feedback is good,” Charles reports after the practice session. “There’s a notable difference in the corners.”
Carlos chimes in, “The balance feels better.”
The improvements are evident, with both Ferraris finishing just off the podium. But Las Vegas poses a new challenge: a circuit unfamiliar to all teams and drivers.
“This is anyone’s game,” Marit says, examining the track layout.
Fabiano nods, “This weekend will be all about adaptation.”
The Las Vegas Grand Prix is an exhilarating rollercoaster. Charles fights for a podium finish, narrowly missing out but showcasing the SF-23’s newfound prowess, while Carlos secures a solid sixth.
As the season finale in Abu Dhabi looms, anticipation runs high. The Yas Marina Circuit will end the year with a test of Ferrari’s mettle.
Post-race, with both Ferraris finishing on the podium after avoiding a pile up that took out multiple opponents, there’s a sense of satisfaction but also of hunger.
“We’ve made progress,” Fabiano says as the garage winds down. “But next season, we’ll aim for a car that is not just evolved but fully revolutionized.”
You smile, “With you on board, I truly believe we can. The future is bright for Scuderia Ferrari.”
***
“Look at her,” Fabiano muses, admiration clear as the blueprint for the SF-24 is spread out before you both in your Maranello office.
“She’s a beauty,” you agree, tracing your fingers over the schematics. “If she performs half as well as she looks ...”
“She will,” Fabiano leaves no room for doubt. “We’ve streamlined the aerodynamics, enhanced the power unit, and made significant weight reductions.”
Carlos walks in with a grin on his face, “Is this the beast we’re taming next season?”
“That’s the plan.”
Charles catches your eye from where he lingers by the door. “It’s a fresh start,” he murmurs, approaching the table almost reverently. “I feel it.”
Over the following weeks, you rarely leave the factory other than to sleep and shower. You immerse yourself with the team, observing wind tunnel tests, joining strategy sessions, and even trying your hand with pit stop drills.
One evening, after a particularly long meeting, Charles finds you in the lounge, sipping an espresso. “Mind if I join you?”
You gesture to the seat across, “Of course not.”
He sits and just looks at you until you get the urge to fidget. “I’ve been thinking,” Charles begins, “About the changes, the car, and ... us.”
You raise an eyebrow, “Us?”
Charles smiles slightly, “You and I. We’ve spent so much time together these past weeks. I’ve gotten to know you, not just as Y/N Ferrari but as ... Y/N.”
You flush and not just from the hot coffee, “I feel the same. It’s been ... refreshing. Getting to know the man behind the helmet.”
He leans forward, elbows on the table, “There’s this great little place just outside Maranello. Quiet, hidden. I was thinking, maybe, dinner?”
Your heart skips a beat but you maintain your composure, “I’d really like that.”
The winter in Maranello unfolds, and as the SF-24 takes shape, so does the bond between you and Charles.
Between brainstorming sessions and late-night discussions about optimal setups, there are stolen moments: shared glances, lingering touches, and dinners that stretch long into the night talking about anything and everything.
Carlos teases, “Seems like the new car isn’t the only thing igniting sparks.”
You roll your eyes but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips. You don’t try to deny it. Why bother when you hope it might be true one day?
***
r/formula1
Posted by RaceRundown · 6 hours ago
First look at the SF-24! Thoughts?
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RedFever · 6 hours ago
This could be the machine that keeps Ferrari at the top. Just look at those lines!
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PitStopPundit · 5 hours ago
Getting major 2004 vibes from this. Could be a dominant year for the Scuderia!
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***
You step into the air-conditioned motorhome, grateful for an escape from the Bahraini heat. Charles and Carlos, race suits unzipped around their waists, are animatedly discussing their first day of preseason testing with the SF-24.
“Last year, we didn’t have to sandbag because the car was, well … genuinely that slow,” Charles laughs. “But this time around ...”
Carlos grins, finishing his sentence. “This time, we have an ace up our sleeves.”
You nod, “Just remember, it’s only testing. We still have to see where we truly stand.”
The race weekend finally kicks off and the paddock is full of speculation. After a deliberately unimpressive showing during testing, no one expects Ferrari to be a front-runner.
Yet, when the lights go out, the SF-24 does not just impress …. it dominates. Charles takes P1 with Carlos not far behind in P3. And the world takes notice.
The next few races see a rejuvenated Ferrari. In Saudi Arabia, Charles and Carlos deliver a nail-biting duel with Red Bull, securing a double podium. Australia is a tougher battle, with Mercedes coming to form, but Charles clinches a respectable P4.
The Asian leg of the season has its highs and lows. In Japan, despite a torrential downpour, Charles masterfully handles the wet track to clinch the top step. On the podium, he points up at the sky and then shapes his fingers — first into a one and then a seven — a silent tribute to his late godfather and mentor.
However, China proves challenging and sees the SF-24 struggling unusually with tire degradation. But as Miami approaches, the team regroups and Charles takes a commanding win under the Florida sun.
Then comes Imola, the first of Ferrari’s home races.
As the sun shines brightly over the circuit named after your great-grandfather and grand uncle, you find yourself walking the track alongside Charles. The weight of racing on home soil evident in his eyes.
“Everything okay?” You check, sensing his nervous energy.
He looks at you and taking a deep breath. “Racing in front of the Tifosi at home always feel different. I want to make them proud.”
“No matter what happens today, they will be proud of you. The whole team will be proud of you. We’ve come so far.”
He smiles, visibly lighter. “Then let’s give them a race to remember.”
And it is nothing short of spectacular. Charles starts P2, but with determination and brilliant strategy, he overtakes Max in the final lap and secures a victory for Ferrari on home soil.
The roar of the crowd, the sea of red flags, the tears in Charles’ eyes as he stands atop the podium — you make a promise to never forget this moment.
As the sun sets on Imola, the Scuderia Ferrari team comes together, basking in their victory.
As Charles, champagne-soaked and beaming, pulls you in for a damp hug, it is clearer than ever that this season is only the beginning of a beautiful journey ahead.
***
“Norris is approaching on a flying lap. Make sure not to impede,” Claudio’s voice comes through crisp and clear over the radio during the dying moments of Q3 for the Monaco Grand Prix.
You can practically feel Charles’ concentration from where you’re seated on the Ferrari pit wall. The narrow streets of Monaco leave no room for error … Charles knows this better than most.
“Copy,” Charles responds, adjusting his position on the track just enough to give Lando the space he needs to pass while keeping his own momentum.
The clock is ticking and Charles needs a perfect lap if he wants to clinch pole position.
“Tires are feeling good. Pushing now,” Charles says, rounding the first corner with precision. The SF-24 dances around the iconic circuit, the roar of its engine echoing through the streets.
From Casino Square to the hairpin and through the tunnel, Charles’ driving is flawless. Every apex hit and every corner nailed.
“Final sector, Charles. Make it count,” Claudio encourages.
And he does. Crossing the line and jumping to the top of the timing board.
The garage cheers but there’s no time to waste. Tomorrow’s race is what truly matters.
***
Race day in Monaco is always special, but today, with Charles starting from pole, there’s an electric tension in the air.
“Lights out in ten,” Marit announces over the intercom.
Charles, already in the zone, simply nods.
And then he’s lined up on the front row.
The lights illuminate one by one. Then, in a heartbeat, they go out.
The race is on.
Charles gets a strong start, holding off challengers through the initial turns. The streets of Monaco are notoriously difficult for overtaking, so track position is everything.
“Maintain the pace. Tire management is key,” Claudio advises as the laps progress.
As the race unfolds, strategy becomes crucial.
“Plan to box in two laps,” Marit instructs through Claudio. With with Verstappen close on his tail, everything must be executed perfectly.
The pit stop is lightning-fast, the crew working in synchrony. Charles emerges just ahead of Max, who had followed him into the pits.
Throughout the race, Charles’ skill shines. He manages his tires, navigates the backmarkers, and keeps a razor-sharp focus.
The final laps approach. The team, the spectators, the entire Principality holds its breath.
The chequered flag waves and Charles crosses the finish line to takes his first home win. The elation, the pride, the sheer emotion of the moment is overwhelming.
“Monaco, Charles! You’ve won Monaco!”
Tears in his eyes, Charles responds, voice choked, “We did it! This is for Monaco. This is for Ferrari. Grazie mille. Merci beaucoup.”
The team gathers beneath the podium, celebrating their victory and the hometown here. Charles quickly sprays the two drivers beside him before aiming the bottle at the sea of red cheering in front of him and soaking his team in champagne.
He thinks back to how this weekend ended last season and let’s his elation wash away the years of dejected he faced before.
Things are different now.
***
“I’ve never seen Monaco come alive like this after a win,” you shout over the pulsating music in one of the city’s many upscale clubs.
Charles grins, leaning in closer so you can hear him. “It’s the magic of a home race victory!”
As the night turns to early morning, alcohol flows freer and the laughter grows louder.
The Ferrari team loves any reason to celebrate and they’re certainly making the most of the location.
Charles pulls you to a quieter corner of the VIP section. “Have you ever danced with a Monaco Grand Prix winner?”
You roll your eyes at the attempt at flirting but laugh as you accept his outstretched hand. “There’s a first time for everything.”
The two of you dance, losing track of time.
The world blurs around you. All that matters is the magnetic pull between you two which has been simmering for so long that it is threatening to overflow.
Charles pulls you closer, his lips brushing your ear. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
You relish in the warmth of his breath against your skin. “What’s that?”
“I’m drawn to you,” he admits, eyes searching yours. “Not just because of tonight but ... there’s something between us. I feel it. And I think you do too.”
You swallow hard. “I do.”
He hesitates before wrapping an arm around your waist, “Come with me.”
Without a word, you both exit the club, making your way to his apartment. The air between you is thick with anticipation but also vulnerability … openness.
Once inside, he gently pushes you against the wall, lips crashing onto yours. It’s passionate and intense, like a dam that has been waiting to break.
Charles pulls away slightly, “Are you sure about this?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you whisper, eyes locked with his. “But ... Charles, not just for tonight. I don’t want this to be just a result of a victory high or the Monaco night air.”
He cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek. “I don’t want that either. This isn’t about the race or the party. It’s about us. I think it’s been about us for a while now.”
“Then why didn’t you say something sooner?”
He chuckles softly. “You think it’s easy, being around you every day, wanting to be close but maintaining a distance for the sake of professionalism? To spend every evening when we’re in Maranello sitting across from you at dinner and wishing that I could call it a date? But tonight,” he pauses, eyes searching yours, “Tonight felt different.”
You waste no time to draw him closer. “No more waiting then.”
***
Canada’s Circuit Gilles Villeneuve echoes with the roar of engines and the cheers of fans. Charles dominates the track, mastering the chicanes and the notorious Wall of Champions.
But the race isn’t straightforward. Mid-race, strategy suddenly changes when an unexpected rain shower soaks the track. However, the new strategy team you’ve brought in makes all the right calls and Charles takes the chequered flag.
In the Spanish sun, it’s a different story. The high-speed corners expose a slight flaw in the SF-24 which leaves Charles fighting valiantly but finishing third.
Despite the setback, you see determination in his eyes. “We’ll get them in Austria,” he promises.
True to his word, at the Red Bull Ring, he dominates. The SF-24 suits the straights and fast corners. Charles takes pole and leads every lap, building a gap that the competition can’t close. The victory feels even sweeter given the circuit’s name.
Silverstone proves challenging. There’s fierce competition, and while Charles doesn’t win, he’s involved in one of the most thrilling wheel-to-wheel battles of the season with Max Verstappen. They exchange positions multiple times, showing pure racing talent. In the end, Charles finishes a proud second after a photo finish.
The Hungarian Grand Prix tests the team. Tire strategy becomes paramount. The SF-24 shows vulnerabilities in the surprisingly sweltering conditions. Still, Charles’ impeccable driving and some cunning strategy calls earn him a place on the podium.
At the Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps, Charles shines brilliantly. He conquers Eau Rouge and Raidillon like few can, making it seem effortless. The SF-24 feels perfectly balanced and he takes another win, smiling at the Ferrari flags waving high in the crowd as the Monegasque and Italian anthems play.
Through it all, you see Charles grow not just as a driver but as a leader and beacon of hope for the team and global fanbase. He is not just driving for himself or for Ferrari, he drives for everyone who believes in him.
***
The warm Italian sun pours golden light onto the expansive villa overlooking Lake Como. The water below sparkles, mirroring the sky. For a brief moment, the hectic world of Formula 1 feels miles away.
You’re lounging under an oversized umbrella, Aperol Spritz in hand, while Charles emerges from the pool, beads of water cascading down his toned physique.
“That swim was perfect,” Charles grins as he flops down beside you.
“You were in there for ages! Trying to turn into a fish?”
He shakes his head like a wet puppy, making you squeal as you try to escape the splashes. “Just preparing for our yacht trip. Besides, I have to burn off all those pasta dinners we’ve been having or else I won’t fit in the car by the end of the month.”
“The troubles of a professional athlete,” you laugh, “I’ve been indulging and I’m not even sorry.”
That evening, the two of you share a quiet moment on the terrace. Soft jazz floats from inside and cicadas buzz rhythmically.
“Remember our first race together?” Charles starts. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”
“I never imagined we’d be here. But I am so glad that we are.”
He meets your gaze, his eyes reflecting the same heat you feel. “Me too. These moments, away from the track with you ... they’re special.”
The following week, you find yourselves on a luxurious yacht off the coast of Sardinia. Charles’ family and both of your friends are aboard. The sun decks echo with laughter, music, and the soft lapping of waves. There is never a quiet moment and you relish in the sounds of happiness.
As you stand by the railing, watching Charles and Joris race each other on jet-skis, Arthur slides up beside you. “So, how’s life with my big brother?”
You laugh, “It’s an adventure every day. But honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s wonderful. He’s wonderful.”
Arthur nods, “I’ve never seen him this happy, you know?”
You smile warmly, your gaze drifting to where Charles has somehow fallen into the water and is now splashing his friend. “He brings out the best in me, just as I hope I do for him.”
***
The gentle lapping of the Mediterranean waves seems like a distant memory as you find yourself in Zandvoort.
“Quite the change of scenery, isn’t it?” Charles chuckles, standing beside you as the sea breeze of the Dutch coast tousles his hair.
You laugh, “A bit but I’ve missed it. Nothing beats the excitement of a race weekend.”
And what a weekend it was. Charles, against all odds, comes out on top at Max Verstappen’s home race. The Dutch crowd offer begrudging respect as Charles takes the top step.
And then, Monza.
Monza is different. There’s an electricity in the air that cannot be replicated anywhere else. It’s the home race of Ferrari … the cathedral of speed.
“Do you know,” you tell Charles as you both walk through the paddock, “I used to come here with my grandfather as a child. This track ... it’s steeped in history. I’ve always loved it.”
“Winning here was like nothing else I have ever experience,” he reflects. “Let’s do it again. We’ll write our own chapter in history this weekend.”
Qualifying is a nail-biter. Charles pushes the SF-24 to its limits, dancing on the edge of control.
“How are we looking?” Charles checks in.
“You’re on provisional pole,” Claudio responds over the radio. “But push on the last sector. Max is close and getting closer.”
And push he does. Charles clinches pole with a margin that leaves no doubts about the capabilities of both the driver and the car.
Race day, the atmosphere is fever-pitched. The Tifosi, in their sea of red, wave their flags and banners, chanting Charles’ name like a prayer. As the lights go out, the battle rages. The strategy is aggressive, a one-stop that requires Charles to defend position in the latter stages of the race.
“Lap 45. Push now, we need widen this gap,” Claudio instructs.
The tires scream in protest as Charles further carves out a lead. But as the laps tick down, Verstappen and Piastri close in.
“Drive smart and hold them off. Four laps to go. You’ve got this,” Claudio urges him on.
Going wheel-to-wheel with Max through the Ascari chicane, Charles pulls ahead. The Tifosi roar, their energy and sheer will pushing him on.
“Last lap. Bring it home!”
And he does.
As Charles crosses the finish line, the crowd erupts. The track is soon packed with red as fans flood the track, surrounding the podium.
From the sea of faces, one voice stands out — yours, “You did it, Charles. Monza is yours.”
He lifts the trophy high, a tear in his eye, “We did it. This is for Ferrari … for the Tifosi … for us.”
***
The streets of Baku and the lights of Singapore both witness the magic that Charles and the SF-24 weave together. Two more wins, two more steps closer to the championship.
And then you find yourselves in Texas.
“Do you remember this time last year?” Charles asks.
“How could I forget? It was the phone call that changed everything.”
Charles laughs but there’s a weight to it, “For both of us. It was a disaster ... pole to sixth and then the disqualification. All because of...” He doesn’t finish the sentence, the mismanagement of the team a heavy shadow neither of you can forget.
“You’ve grown since then,” you point out gently, “The team has grown. Look at where we are now.”
He nods, taking a deep breath, “One year. So much has changed. From one of the worst days in my racing career to ... this.” Charles gestures around, to the revamped team, the transformed car, the very atmosphere of competence that permeates every corner of the Ferrari garage.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” he whispers, “The championship is within our grasp. Right back where it all went wrong.”
You take a moment to pull out your laptop and open a data sheet, “Here’s the breakdown. If Max gets P2 in both the sprint and the race, you need P1 in both. That’s how we seal the championship this weekend.”
Charles’ eyes scan the spreadsheet, “That’s ... a tall order.”
“But not impossible. Not for you and not for this team,” you assure him.
He chuckles again but it’s brighter now, “With you in my corner? I know anything is possible.”
***
The energy is electric when qualifying day arrives in Austin. You find Charles in his driver’s room, eyes closed in focus as he visualizes the track.
“You ready for this?”
His eyes pop open, determination burning in them. “Ready. Let’s show them what we can do.”
Qualifying unfolds in a blur of fast laps and bated breath. Charles pushes the limits, wrestling the SF-24 around the bumpy circuit.
“Time for one more lap. Give it your all here,” Claudio radioes through.
Jaw set, Charles squeezes all he can from the SF-24. Silence falls as he crosses the line … broken by cheers as his new lap time is set.
Pole position for the second season in a row.
Charles sheds his helmet and rips off his balaclava. “Yes! That’s how we start a weekend!”
The sprint shootout and race similarly see Charles launch cleanly from P1, building a gap early.
“Verstappen is matching your pace, don’t let him get within DRS range,” Claudio advises.
“Copy,” Charles responds, focused.
A late charge from Max raises tensions but Charles keeps him at bay, taking the chequered flag and the eight points.
“That’s the way to do it!” You shout as Charles enters the garage.
“Grand Slam in the sprint, now time for the main event,” he grins.
You rally the team Sunday morning. “Remember, the start is crucial. The car that lines up in P2 has led by the end of lap 1 for five years in a row. We need full focus.”
It seems like barely any time has passed before Charles takes his spot on the grid. Lights out, tires screeching, he holds the lead through the first lap madness.
“Nicely done,” Claudio praises. “Manage those tires now.”
The pit stop strategy is executed flawlessly. Charles takes his second stop, emerging ahead of a charging Verstappen.
“Ten laps remaining,” Claudio counts down.
Charles responds with measured confidence, “Let’s bring it home.”
In the closing laps, he is poetry in motion, hitting each apex and maximizing every straight. Max closes in but Charles is perfect to the millimeter.
“Charles Leclerc,” Claudio’s voice cracks with emotion, “you are the World Champion!”
Eyes wet, Charles radios in, “Yes! Yes! Yes! We did it! Thank you guys! This is unbelievable! Grazie, grazie mille, grazie a tutti! It’s been an incredible season with all of you. This is for the team, for Ferrari, for all the fans, and for everyone who has supported me. We brought it back to Maranello! I’m speechless ... grazie, thank you!”
In the garage, celebrations in full swing, you lean in with a laugh, “Don’t worry, I checked with the FIA — the plank is up to regulation this time.”
Grinning, Charles pulls you into a passionate kiss as the team hoots and hollers around you.
The World Champion smiles so bright he makes the Texan sun look dull in comparison.
You would do anything to make sure he feels like this every season. You will do anything to make sure he feels like this every season.
***
The winter sun casts a warm glow on Maranello as you walk beside Charles into the Ferrari factory. The off-season buzz of activity fills the air as the team prepares for next year’s challenges.
Charles looks at the sleek lines of the new SF-25 with anticipation. “She’s beautiful. I can’t wait to see what she can do.”
“This one’s special. She’ll be fighting for the championship again.”
“Yeah?”
“You heard me right,” you say with a smile. “I made you a promise. Last season was just the beginning.”
As Charles turns for a briefing, you spot Fred across the room. Your relationship has evolved and he now respects the authority you wield for the team’s benefit.
Approaching, you extend a hand. “I wanted to say, you’ve led the team well this past season.”
He grasps it firmly. “We share this success. Thank you for being the catalyst we needed”
You know there will still be challenges ahead. But Ferrari has been reinvigorated. Its racing spirit has been reignited.
That evening, Charles joins you on the terrace of the home you both share when in Maranello and wraps you both in a warm blanket to fight the chill. “Can you believe what a year it’s been?”
You shake your head. “It’s been a dream.��
He pulls you close. “The dream is just beginning and it’s a dream I hope we never wake up from.”
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reiderwriter · 8 months
Text
More Than Words
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader
Requested: yes
Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.
Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.
A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.
You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!
Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”
It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.
“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.
“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.
“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.
“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”
“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”
You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.
“Promise you won’t tell?”
“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.
“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.
“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”
“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.
“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”
“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.
“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.
“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.
–X–
Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.
At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.
“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.
“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.
“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.
“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”
“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.
“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.
“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”
“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”
“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.
“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.
“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.
“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.
“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”
“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.
“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.
“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”
With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.
“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”
–X–
The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.
“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.
“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.
“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”
“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.
“What was our first date?” He asked.
“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”
“What else have we done together?”
“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”
“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.
You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.
“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”
He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.
“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.
“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.
“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”
“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.
You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.
But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.
“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.
The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.
“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”
“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.
“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”
“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”
“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.
“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”
“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.
“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.
“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.
“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.
“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”
Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.
“Mom, how did you know…”
“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,
“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.
–X–
The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.
Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.
What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?
So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.
“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.
You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.
“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.
“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.
You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.
“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.
“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.
He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”
“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.
An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.
“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.
“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.
“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.
“I don’t pick my nails!”
“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.
“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”
“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”
“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.
“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.
“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.
“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”
“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”
“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.
“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”
“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”
“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.
“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”
“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”
“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.
“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”
“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.
“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.
“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.
“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.
“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”
“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”
“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.
–X–
“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.
“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.
“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.
“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.
You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.
“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.
“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”
You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.
“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.
“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.
“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.
“Spence, what’s wrong?”
“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”
“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.
“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.
“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.
“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.
“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.
“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.
“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.
“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.
“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.
–X–
You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.
To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.
“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.
“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.
“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.
“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.
“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.
“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.
“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.
His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.
“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”
“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.
–X–
The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.
You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.
So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.
You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.
You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.
You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.
“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.
“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.
“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.
“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.
“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.
“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.
“How’d you figure it out?”
“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”
“Three.”
“Three what?”
“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.
“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.
“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”
“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”
“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”
You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.
“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.
You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.
“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.
“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.
“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.
You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.
“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.
“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”
Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.
“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.
“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.
“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.
“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.
“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.
“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”
“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.
“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.
“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.
“Yes?”
“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.
But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.
“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.
“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.
He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.
“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.
“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.
He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.
“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.
“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.
“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.
It never did.
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eelnoise · 1 month
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random sex headcanons! (nsfw)
had some thoughts during my workout today, so i figured i'd write them out as a break from the endless wips in my docs. :) zoro, sanji, usopp(!), and law x afab reader tagging: @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @throwmethroughawindow (hello soppers)
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Zoro
Prefers a position where he can see your face.
He wants to watch you squirm under his touch, wants to see your expression twisting with ecstasy each time his cock slides against your walls.
Big on touch. His hands will glide along your body, squeezing at any flesh he can get his fingers around, but has a slight preference for grabbing your thighs - not only because he's a thigh guy, but because they're your thighs. Also helps him manhandle you into deeper positions.
Has two modes - rough and nasty, or gentle and loving. The first is more of a stress-reliever, or for a quickie in the training room before a meal, but its raw and real and even between his forceful strokes he's praising you, telling you how good you are, how good you feel, that you take him so well, or that you're made for his cock and his alone.
But if he's in his feels about you, he prefers it slow and steady. Missionary, lotus, cowgirl, whatever it is, Zoro finds great joy in watching you enjoy yourself. He'll hold your cheek in his palm and if you nuzzle into his touch you may be rewarded with a long, passionate series of kisses and words of love between each one. He tells you that you make him happy, that you're perfect and beautiful, how he's so lucky that you put up with him, and how much he loves you.
Sanji
Also a big face watcher, just the sight of you moaning and mewling for him is enough to make the coil of delirium unravel. 
Takes a while for him to stop finishing so quickly (he loves you!), but he gets that iron will eventually - and will use it to make you into a panting, tired, sweaty mess. 
Super switchy. Sanji will always lovingly top you, but loves being the bottom. Ride him, peg him, and gently tease him all you want - just treat him like the sweet prince that he is and be affectionate. Show him that you love him, take it into your own hands and watch him melt into you. 
Really likes seeing you dressed up, just to dress you down later. Kisses your neck and coos in your ear about how lovely you look while he unzips your dress before sliding it down your shoulders and into a heap of fabric on the floor. Undresses you with a fire in his veins, taking his time to caress every inch of flesh available to him, kissing down your body while taking off each piece of remaining clothing that lies his way. 
A pussy eating king. Sanji knows taste, and will bury his nose as deep into you as he can, licking and slurping up your juices like it's his last meal. He kisses it often, usually murmuring something in his native tongue against your folds and making you shiver from the timbre of his voice. 
Usopp
The sweet boy is so shy. Takes him a few tries before he can even look you in the eye (he’ll cum too quick :( !) during. So at first he takes you mostly from behind. 
His hands love digging into the plush of your ass, though. Gets really hypnotized by the way it bounces back onto his cock and tends to lose himself in the moment and - wanting to see it move faster - absent-mindedly picks up the pace to slam into you with harder and harder strokes. 
Once he opens up a bit, you find that he's really fun in bed. He makes love to you like you're the last thing he'll ever touch, but will switch it up on the fly and rail you until tears of overstimulation peck at your tear ducts. Folds you around as he wishes, trying every angle, every position that he can wiggle the both of you into - and every time you're happy to let him experiment. 
Call him Captain Usopp mid-sex and its over for you. Something emerges from him that makes him go feral. Grabs your hair or your arms and fucks you faster and harder than he can realize himself. Very dominant this way too - demands you say it again, or to keep calling him by the name. Assaults your neck and back with kisses and bites, hungrier than ever to mark you up as Captain Usopp's girl.
Always makes sure to show his feelings for you through touch and praise, but always says “I love you!” right as he cums. 
Law
Usually has no preference on positions. Law will fuck you in any way you want. Though is apt to end up telling you how he wants to take you regardless, urging you onto your hands and knees, pressing you against a wall, or bending you over his desk. 
Great with his fingers. Coaxes several orgasms from you before even considering putting his cock in you. Long, lithe digits scissor in and out of your entrance, spurring you magnificently over the edge over and over again. Loves to shove his fingers into your mouth afterward, and can barely keep his focus when you clean your slick from them. 
Absolutely gets pussy drunk. His cock twitches wildly in response to your walls clenching around him, making his head spin with want and desire. Leans back to watch himself disappear deep inside of you again and again, mesmerized by the way your pussy grips him and how wet and warm and tight you are. 
Plays into your sensitivities. If you have sensitive nipples or breasts, his mouth is on them, sucking and licking and nibbling in ways that have you crying out for more. Sensitive clit? Law is rubbing it in slow, agonizingly sweet circles as he thrusts into you, bringing you just to the edge of reality but not over it just yet. 
Very weak for affection, especially during intimacy. Hold his hand and hear him whine before grabbing you tighter and fucking you harder, but kiss him and watch his brain fray into blissful petals of pure devotion. Has been known to stop all together to just lock his lips to yours for a while. 
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
Text
inspections
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words: 1k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, daily c*nt inspections 😭, fingering, mentions of p in v sex, edging, i think rafe calls reader kiddo once, reader is described briefly as small chested, mentions of past punishments/spankings/tit slapping
“come on, baby.” rafe taps your thigh. “it's time.”
“im so tired, just let me sleep for five more minutes.” you whine, snuggling your head deeper into the pillow.
“are you being bratty?” rafes words have your eyes snapping open.
“no, daddy, of course not.” you giggle. you both know you were just being a bit naughty by refusing to wake up, but you don't want to face any punishment, sitting up to give rafe a good morning kiss.
“mhm, that's what i thought.” he sighs. “i have to go into work today.”
“what?” you whine. “you can't work from home?”
“nope, got in person meetings today. sorry baby girl.” rafe hates leaving you as much as you hate him having to go anywhere without you.
“okay, gonna miss you so much.” you give rafe another kiss, now noticing that he's already ready and dressed.
“ive got enough time for inspections. open up.” rafe taps your thigh again.
“mkay.” you nod, laying your head back on the pillow, spreading your legs open.
“no wet spot on your panties, wow.” rafe nods, hands moving to rub over your inner thighs.
you smile, proud of yourself for keeping your panties clean overnight, always struggling with rafe pressed up against you.
rafe hooks his finger under the center of your underwear, pulling it to the side to reveal your cunt.
“gosh, so pretty.” rafe smiles down. “my favorite pussy in the world.”
“thank you daddy.” you blush, feeling your cheeks heat up pink.
“makes me not wanna leave you, kiddo.” rafe sighs, knowing he certainly doesn't have time to fuck you, not in the way he wants to.
“will you be home for lunch?” you ask, eyes fluttering closed as rafe swipes his fingers through your folds absentmindedly.
“yeah.” rafe nods. “will bring you home some candy.” he can't help himself but bring his fingertips to his mouth, tasting your wetness with a low moan.
“thank you daddy.” you manage to speak out, voice already wobbly from his touches.
“gonna stick a finger inside, okay? make sure you're still nice and tight for me.” the inspections became mandatory after rafe found out you were touching yourself overnight, not even always consciously, rutting against his thigh while you both slept, wet dreams of your daddy running through your head.
“mkay.” you nod, letting out a breath to relax your body as rafe uses one hand to separate your folds, holding your cunt open as your hole flutters in anticipation.
rafe circles his finger around your entrance before plunging it inside your hole. you always try your best to stay quiet during inspections as rafe likes, but you can't help but squeal out.
rafe just laughs at how pathetic your noises are, beginning to thrust his finger in and out slowly, feeling the way you constrict around him.
“nice and tight, so good baby.” rafe smiles down at you. “you've been such a good girl lately, i can't even remember the last time i had to punish you!”
“two weeks ago.” you pout, remembering it well. “ten spankings because i flashed you while you were in a meeting.”
“that's right.” rafe shakes his head. “you got some tit slaps too, didn't you baby?” rafe looks up your body. there's not much tits there to slap, and rafe always prefers to bend you over his knee and punish your ass instead.
“mhm, but i liked it so you stopped.” you giggle, remembering how you moaned when rafes palm hit your nipples.
“my dirty girl.” rafe shakes his head, moving his thumb to your clit, keeping your cunt pulled apart with his other hand so he can see all of you. sure, it's part of his daily morning inspections to check your cunt, but he usually just pushes a finger in and claims it's good.
“daddy?” you whimper out, a rush of wetness flooding your pussy.
“what is it baby? don't you want me to touch your little clit since im gonna be gone for work for hours.”
“yeah.” you whine, nodding your head as his finger thrusting inside of you moves faster, resisting the urge to add a second, loving how it's just his cock that stretches you open. 
“good girl. you deserve a kiss.” rafe says, and you pucker your lips, waiting for him to bend over your body, but rafe drops down lower, pressing a kiss directly over your clit.
“daddy!” you squeal, back arching off the bed. despite always touching your pussy, rafe rarely gives you head, preferring to get right to fucking you.
rafe moves his thumb to help keep you spread open, stretching the skin around your cunt as his tongue flicks out, rubbing over your clit, now tasting your wetness as well as hearing it with every push of his finger inside of you, a sick squelching sound filling the room.
“can i-can i touch your hair daddy?” you manage to ask, fingers twitching.
“no.” rafe smirks, his voice vibrating your clit as he barely pulls away to speak.
“o-okay.” you grip the bed sheets instead, wishing you could push rafes head further into your pussy, but you know better than to disobey an order.
“can feel you clenching ‘round my finger.” rafe laughs against your cunt.
“feels so good.” you mumble, used to waking up in the morning to rafe inspecting your pussy, but it's never this much as you moan, thighs twitching with the urge to close.
“too bad you're not gonna cum.” rafe sighs, pulling his mouth and finger suddenly out, sitting up.
“no!” you scream out. “no, daddy, please, ive been so good, let me cum, please!”
rafe sighs, leaning over your body to press a kiss to your lips. “sorry, princess, gotta go to work.”
rafe glances at the clock. truth is, he has plenty of time to make you cum, knowing you're only seconds away, but he likes the idea of keeping you wet and horny for him, ready to thrust his cock into the moment he gets back from work.
“and remember princess.” he taps your nose, making your eyes flutter before focusing on rafe. “if you touch yourself while im gone, there will be punishments.”
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @sil @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @die4niyahhh @mysticallystilinski @https-luvvia @aerangi @folklorsweet
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faebaex · 9 months
Text
TWST Characters - Big Spoon or Little Spoon?
author note: don't ask me what provoked this, i'm writing these silly little headcanons so that i can get it out of my head so i can write the things i'm supposed to be writing! forgive me for my slowness (。T ω T。)
characters: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw & Octavinelle
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Heartslabyul
Riddle Rosehearts
Little spoon who thinks he is a big spoon
He will try being both the big spoon and the little spoon respectively
But in his ACADEMIC opinion, he will declare that he is the big spoon
But despite how he insists that he is the big spoon, most nights he ends up falling asleep in your arms
If he wakes up in the middle of the night he’ll groggily try to rearrange but it doesn’t always work
Don’t tease him about it, sometimes he just needs the comfort of being held
Little spoon in denial basically
Ace Trappola
Silly straw who thinks he is a big spoon
No fr this guy will posture and insist that he is 100% big spoon material
But then as SOON as he falls asleep, he’s snoring and throwing his arms around and wiggling around, tossing and turning
Man will NOT keep still
The amount of times you’ve kicked him out of bed bc he keeps waking you up with his flailing
Rarely you’ll get a night where you comfortably sleep with him as the big spoon but don’t get used to it
Deuce Spade
Respectable big spoon
Probably one of the most comfortable people to sleep with
Will cuddle you well enough that you feel soothed but not tight enough that you can’t slip out if you want/need to
Always makes sure you’re comfortable, probably to the extent that you have to tell him to stop fretting
Good boy, 10/10
Cater Diamond
Undeniable little spoon
There is no doubt, just hold him pls
His favourite position is with his back to you bc he prefers it if you can’t see his face
Can’t have you seeing him vulnerable instead of his usual silly, goofy persona
Sometimes tho he’ll lay his head against your chest and you’ll have a little moment together
But don’t mention it otherwise he won’t do it again
Trey Clover
Big spoon
As if there was ever any doubt
He actually really likes spooning, he likes the intimacy
He likes the feel of your heartbeat and being able to stroke a hand through your hair or watch you as you sleep
Plus it is easy for him to slip into bed next to you if he’s stayed up late to finish baking
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Savanaclaw
Leona Kingscholar
Big spoon but only because he treats you like a living pillow
I mean let’s be real all this man does is sleep
So there is no way that you will be anything but the little spoon here
He’ll think its funny if you try to be the big spoon and then just push you underneath him and resume business as usual
Spooning with Leona is either incredibly comfortable or the most uncomfortable sleep you’ve ever had – there is no in-between
He pretends not to care if you voice any discomfort but genuinely will try to be more attentive in future
Jack Howl
Big spoon
But he goes to bed sooo early so you don’t always get to cuddle
Sometimes when you sneak into bed he’ll roll over and engulf you in his arms
As if he sensed you in his sleep
But other times Jack sleeps like a rock
So its kind of hit and miss
But when you do get to spoon, it feels like you are encompassed in a huge, never-ending hug
It may even be tempting enough for you to become a morning person, if you’re not already
Ruggie Bucchi
Little spoon 100%
My man just likes to cuddle up after a long day of making thaumarks and running around taking care of Leona
So there is nothing he loves more than snuggling into your chest or side and passing out
Plus being the little spoon makes it a tiny bit easier to slip out in the morning when he has to do one of his early morning jobs or get Leona's breakfast ready
Plus plus having you there makes his bed feel just that little bit more comforting :)
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Octavinelle
Azul Ashengrotto
Little spoon who thinks he is a big spoon #2
You’ll fall asleep with him being the big spoon but you always ALWAYS wake up with him somehow in the little spoon position with his arms and legs wrapped around you
Will insist this is a misunderstanding and that he slipped bc he’s still not used to beds yet
He actually loves nothing more than burying his face into your chest and feeling nice and safe
Nevertheless he will go to the grave insisting that he is the big spoon
The biggest little spoon in denial, no one compares
Jade Leech
Big spoon
The only time he is a little spoon is when he gets too excited about mushrooms or something and needs to calm down while you stroke his hair
Otherwise he is a big spoon through and through
Thing is though, his grip is TOO strong
Once you make the decision to spoon with him, there is no escape
His arms will be wrapped so tightly around your waist that you can’t even more an inch away from him
He has absolutely no remorse about it either the next morning, he’ll just give you his little closed eye smile and be all ‘whoops’ but hold you just as tight the next time
Floyd Leech
Hear me out, hear me out
100% a little spoon
He gives off big spoon energy but actually prefers to wrap himself around you and have you hold him and play with his hair and give him back scratches
Be careful if he’s in a silly goofy mood though because he’ll start nipping at you
Thinks its hilarious when you’re relaxing and you suddenly yelp bc he’s nipped at your side
But usually he behaves himself bc sometimes he’s a little touch starved so he really likes it when you hold him
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dr3c0mix · 11 months
Note
umm is it possible to get a yandere! male!siren x shy!gn reader?
Fish Bait
Yandere!Siren x GN Reader
CW: Kidnapping, assault, minor stalking, murder, thalassophobia maybe?
🌊 You are quite shy when it came to talking to people. You found the whole 'socializing thing' a bit overwhelming considering how rough and loud the rest of the people in your academy was.
🌊 You much preferred staying by the shore with a nice book or drawing book to enjoy the sound of the waves with. The ocean breeze and wailing of seagulls never failed to relax you.
🌊 One day, you heard the strange sound of splashing by the tide pools along the more rocks area of the shore. You thought it was a fish or some other animal that got stuck in one of the pools after the tide retreated and got up to help it out.
🌊 But what you saw was no animal, well, half animal. In one of the pools was a man with the lower half of a fish, his scales glistened wondrously as it splashed in the water.
🌊 The man looked at you with wide eyes and froze. You put your hands up to show you meant no harm.
🌊 "Please! Spare me! I just want to go home!"
🌊 "Calm down! I won't hurt you!"
🌊 He shook with fear as your hands drew closer to him.
🌊 You then pulled him up from the pool and carried him to the sea, he stares at you as you gently lowered him unto the water.
🌊 As soon as his tail was submerged in the sea, he swam out of your grasp and went a distance away from you, part of his head peeking out of the water as his red eyes looked at yours.
🌊 "Well...safe travels.." You mutter, wading back to shore, but the merman peeks his mouth out the water and shouts to you.
🌊 "You're not going to ask anything in return?"
🌊 You look back. "Uhm..no, I'm fine, thanks anyway.."
🌊 "Hmm, you know...you can come with me to my home. I'll grant you the power to breathe under water and you can enjoy the treasures I have there. What do you say? It's the least I can do for what you've done for me!"
🌊 "Nah, I'm good. Be safe though, I heard theres pirates that hunt merfolk nowadays..." You continue your way to shore but the merman swims quickly to your side.
🌊 "Don't you want to be rid of those insolent fools you call schoolmates? I can give you a life people only dream of!"
🌊 "I'm not really..interested..."
🌊 "...You're not?"
🌊 "Yeah..."
🌊 "...Oh..uh..ok...wow-um..well, bye I guess..." The man stutters before sinking his head back into the water.
🌊 You sigh, that was some encounter. You doubt you'd run into something like that again...
🌊 Boy howdy you were wrong.
🌊 You'd spot the strange boy again and again, always hiding back behind the rock or piece of driftwood he was watching you from.
🌊 Sometimes you'd also find trinkets and beautiful stones laid on the shore. You never took them though; you didn't want to take something someone probably lost. The merman would grumble to himself every time you ignored his baits.
🌊 You'd also see him again trapped in the pools, feigning sorrow that poor little him got stuck again during another low tide. What ever shall he do?
🌊 Your days would go on like this, the merman desperately trying to lure you into the sea but to no avail due to your shy and polite nature.
🌊 Him basically stalking you turned to him directly talking to you and trying to get you to go with him in the water.
🌊 "Oh dear, I've been stuck at this reef for ages! I just can't get out! Could you help me please? I promise not to drown you!"
🌊 "No thanks, I'm on the last chapter of my book..."
🌊 "My, my, it's so lonely in the ocean, not a playmate in sight, come down with me so we can really get to know each other yeah?"
🌊 "I don't really wanna get my clothes wet..."
🌊 What you thought was a potentially dangerous creature of the sea became a whiny, attention-seeking drama queen.
🌊 Eventually, you'd learn his name is Caspian. He gave up a bit on trying to lure you and settled on making small talk with you.
🌊 Most of your conversations would revolve around your cultures, how you two lived compared to eachother.
🌊 "So those silver things with teeth aren't combs? Interesting...tell me more!"
🌊 He more or less looked up to you because of the knowledge you'd tell him, even though it was all basic things ever human knows, but he wasn't a human so, I guess it's alright.
🌊 He'd try to crawl onto shore to see what you were reading or drawing. You'd have to scoot away from him because he was dripping wet, and you didn't want your paper to get soiled.
🌊 Please read to him! He loves it when you read out loud the books you bring!
🌊 Life seemed pretty content with you having a friend to talk to, one who's not judgmental of your quiet personality.
🌊 That was until one day, you heard laughing and shouting from your usual spot.
🌊 You saw your classmates, waist deep in the water trying to drag Caspian to the shore, the merman snarling and biting the air around him angrily as the bullies degrade and laugh at his attempts to wriggle out of their grasp.
🌊 "Look at this, boys! With this ugly thing we can buy the whole pub if we wanted to!"
🌊 "H-hey! Leave him alone!" You shouted, dropping your things as you ran to help your friend, but one of them punched you with in the face and grabbed you, about to hit you again.
🌊 "What? You're gonna let this siren kill everyone that comes to this beach? God you're dumb! No wonder why you have no friends!"
🌊 He was about to give another blow when you both heard a shrill cry from the ocean.
🌊 The water pooled with crimson as only the splashing of limbs can be seen form the shore, cries and gurgles are heard from the writhing gore. Your classmate rushes into the water to save his friends before the violent splashing stops and the red patch of bloody water extends towards him and around him until you see him get yanked below into the water, a splash of a fish tail verified in your mind that it was Caspian.
🌊 You could feel your heart pounding as you see the siren lift its head from the water, his blood red eyes staring at you again with razor sharp teeth bared.
🌊 "P-please...don't hurt me..I didn't lead them to you I swear!" You cried as he crawled to your shivering form.
🌊 You held your breath as he pulled you in a wet hug, your clothes getting stained by the salty, bloody water.
🌊 "Oh my darling~ I know you would never hurt me~ But we're not safe here anymore..I fear I'll have to take you somewhere safer...somewhere away from those disgusting creatures."
🌊 You couldn't even react before you were pulled into the water forcefully, you kicked and swam all you could to get him to let go of you, but soon enough, your whole body was under the water. The only thing that was left of you were your things by the sand, and bubbles that rose to the surface before stopping.
🌊 "You'll be safe here my love, my most wonderful treasure~"
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this one was by far one of my favorite bois ive written, he's so mhmhmghghghmmmhmhmmhhh
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shockedemojiatsv · 24 days
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▪︎■☆ Новое Mолоко 🐮🥛 ☆■▪︎
(Translation: New Milk)
☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!🔞
☆ male! subtop! Francis Mosses / male! dombottom! Reader
☆ overstimulation if ya squint a lil, milking, breeding, dumbification, passing out, belly bulge (If your not into this, look away!! 👻👻)
☆ implied Russian speaking Francis (translated from google translate and research for needed accuracy, however, any form of critique or correction definetely is allowed!)
☆ short (I think???)
☆ author has played Not My Neighbor
°○☆nsfw under the cut☆○°
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You and Francis had a thing. And, fuck, for a minimum wage worker who barely gets any kind of rest at all, he's fucking good at what he does. He's a big fan of milking. Not his job, no, he could rant about how shitty it can be despite not wanting to get a new one (A/N: so real) but he's a fan of milking. Just the other kind of milking.
The first tim you two had sex, he was pretty sheepish about it, yeah. He didn't know if you prefered topping or bottoming so he settled for a handjob. You did the same as well. Until you both got used to each other and realized that he was pretty flexible. He'd do whatever you'd want to do, whatever you had in store, as long as if it wasn't too much for either of you. He loves fucking but he surely isn't a sex devient. Somewhere in the middle. Pliant to whatever you to had planned. But recently, he may or may not have discovered a new kink. Somethig that made his legs flex and his stamina increase and the gooey, warm, and fuzzy gears in his head grind back to life to keep on going. The last time you two had sex, there was now no condom, and he was pounding you into the bed that you swore Isaack would definetely send a formally written complain, persuasive enough for the both of you to not have such intense, hot, steamy sex for the next few months, (He's a reporter after all, have to respect the man informing the people, and he definetely has a way with words).
Humming, groaning, a little against your neck. You swore it was like a kitten, as if he was purring in a way. You pulled his hair as per usual and with a louder grunt his dark brown eyes roll up just a slight and flutter, closing shut as he fills you to the brim with his warm baby batter. Shaking, sweating, and biting his lip when he just keeps on cumming until theres nothing more to give. Or is there?
What he didn't expect, was when you suddenly whispered in the midst of him balls deep inside you,
"Thats it... good boy, you fuckin slut... Cum in me, keep milkin' yourself f'me"
Ah shit, he swore something inside of him just snapped loose. With the way he shivered violently, and as your hand loosened on his sweaty brown hair he moves again. Oh how odd, after a few rounds, the last one being penetration, he's always so tired, opting to give you a handjob or finger you if you didnt get a taste of your climax but shit. If this wasn't hot then what was?!
When you had basically degraded him to milk his balls dry you didn't mean literally, but fuck. This was so appealing, that your little milk boy had his quirks.
You look down at yourself seeing the bulge appearing on your abdoment everytime he thrusts in and god does it make you feel dizzy. Your hard dick, leaking as well just begging to cum while Francis gasps and shudders a little more, oh he looks so dumb. Trying to do as he's told. To keep milking himself. Milking himself for you. Just for motherfucking you. It keeps fuzzy sparks inside of his brain that has him smiling and drooling against your chest.
"Awe, what an adorable little cow you are... Milking your-...yourself for me... Giving me every ounce of that sweet sweet milk of yours, hmm? You wanna give me your milk Francis? You wanna fucking cum in me again?"
He feels so lightheaded that he smiles dumbly at the idea and nods as if his head is too heavy, full of warm cream. Muttering several words in russian mixed in with english as he nods slowly, trembling as his cock, still hard and moving perfectly against every spot inside of you.
"Please please please К-Куколка please... fuck fuckk- let me cum... inside... inside... cum inside please please milk me- oh... П-Пожалуйста... З-...Золотце... Пожалуйста..."
The pathetic, brown haired man sobs. Pawing at your sides like an injured little puppy. Begging so prettily, who could deny those eyes of his? all teary and tired. Small blobs of salty water dripping down his eyebags which were now disappearing, thanks to yourself for keeping his sleep schedule normal again after years of nap malnutrition.
After a few more moments of Francis groaning so softly against your ear, you feel yourself about to cum too, and when you order it directly, he really does come undone. Panting like a dog in heat while nails dig against his back skin. All the while he buries himself deep inside of you once again and fills you up with a second load of his fluids that it's practically drooling out of your hole. You hiss as well, shutting your eyes with a shudder as your dick spurts out a thick white rope of cum, coating Francis' stomach and your chest. Fuck.
Francis pants, collapsing on you. You gently push him to the side and just watch him catch his breath. Eyes closed, skin warm and sweaty while he's still inside you. All soft. But its not uncomfortable. At least now, you definetely know how you can abuse this new found information with your lovely boyfriend.
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gangplanksorenji · 3 months
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Kinknuary Day 15: Blindfold/Sensory Deprivation
Pairing: aespa Karina x Male Reader
Word Count: 5,840
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
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“Alone today, huh?”
A visible shock was seen on Karina’s face as you startled her immediately and caught her off-guard, almost spat out her sweet concoction that she mostly treasured—well, for the time being.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Karina’s bewildered face tells exactly how she’s in utter shock seeing your face at such random times, but nonetheless, you see those orbs of hers lit up once she sees you.
“Well, can I just say I just want to come here and then by a great chance, I saw you here.” You cock an eyebrow at her and in response, she scoffs as she’s not falling for your lies here, again and maybe never again.
“Come on—” Karina pulls you by your wrists, closer to her before whispering to you, “—you came to see me here, don’t you? Plus—” Karina lets go of her tight onto your wrists as she relaxes herself and puts on a hubristic demeanor. “—you don’t really go to bars like this. Don’t make me a liar—I know you.”
Well, that’s like one of the two reasons why you chose to be even at this bar even though you’re always hectic to come and most preferably, wanting to stay home just to binge-watch some movies or play all the same four games you love playing—you came to see her, intentionally with a single goal in mind wanting to be fulfilled or you won’t be able to get a good night’s sleep.
Clicking your tongue as she cracks the code, you finally admitted your true purpose on being here and that didn’t lead Karina surprised in any way. “Okay, okay—I just came here to check on you because of what happened yesterday.” Your tone is sincere as Karina can hear it laced between every word you say as she stops drinking and averted her attention towards you.
“About what? What happened yesterday?” Karina’s tone is fused with puzzlement as she seems to not know what you’re talking about but you know how she’s brushing it off by trying to pretend to be oblivious and that won’t work on your watch, nonetheless what may happen. Sitting right beside her and placing your arms onto the table, you face her as your disposition weighs gravitas.
“I heard the news—you broke up with him and you’re here to drink it off, don’t you.”
You can see the visible frustration on Karina’s face the second you bring up the topic as she manages to maintain her obliviousness but that won’t last for long as it’s bound to break at any time now.
Karina scoffs as she raises her voice a little, provoking her inner rage from bringing up the forgetful event now, “ What do you even mean by that? Nothing even happened!”
“Oh, Karina, Karina, Karina—stop telling me that and I’m here to talk that with you.” Concern paints all over your face and as much as she’s incredibly stubborn in denying the truth, you chose to really be patient with her and address the situation where both parties won’t be provoked with anger and deep grudges at the end. “By the way, where are your friends? Aren’t they supposed to comfort you—”
“What are you even talking about??” Karina angrily boils her frustration out from even diving further onto the topic as she’s still in denial, the dormant rage inside her waiting to be boiled up and erupt soon like a volcano. “Also, they’re all busy and I want to be alone by myself!”
“Hey, hey—” You grabbed her wrists and made her face you as enchantingly, your gaze makes her calm down as you reassure her with your mellow tone and with touch on her hands “—I’m sorry for bringing that up but please, talk to me.”
Karina’s unstoppable fury finds its absolute demise as it slowly dissipates, your touch and your tone calming her down as she feels defeated and you can see it in her expressions and most of all, her eyes—her eyes that never lie. You know that you’re one of her weaknesses and can’t help but unveil the truth whenever she’s with you—for multiple case—and that's the beauty of it: you have each others’ trust and no one can break that apart, not even yourselves as the platonic love of being friends is within the both of you.
“Talk to me about what happened, Karina.”
You’re maybe crossing the line in terms of her privacy and the will to reflect but nonetheless, your advances are meant for the best for her as she probably needs someone to talk to, personally even though she’s not clearly vocal about it.
Now, gaining the courage and letting herself be in a state of tranquil, she lets herself be vocal about everything as she feels the utter comfort with you and with alone, puts a smile on your face. Karina then scoffs and lets out a deep sigh before looking at the distance, feeling vexed about the situation she just saw. “I saw him with someone else, kissing t-that another girl…” 
You can sense Karina’s walls breaking down, piece by piece as she was deeply hurt at what she saw, leaving a wound down her heart that she absolutely can’t bear to deal with. Her voice gets hoarse as the emotions inside her are winning yet she still manages to tell you what happened despite the struggle she’s dealing with. “And like, I was like, a-at the distance and then, my w-world just fell down after that…”
Concern paints your face as you were disheartened at what happened as you think that hurt much worse knowing that it all happened ephemerally as she probably can’t comprehend how she’s badly hurt. “Oh fuck—I’m sorry t-to hear that, Karina…”
“Oh, you don’t n-need to be sorry.” Karina wipes her tears gracefully with her index finger as she faintly smiles at you, feeling a little grateful on listening to her. Of course, your curiosity took over you as you wanted to know more of what she saw, knowing for a fact that you may gather information or to do something with it.
“Have you seen the one he cheated with? Any features you saw on the girl?”
Karina scoffs again, yet this time, anger is starting to boil down as her face permeates vengeance and utter discomfort trying to think of that girl he cheated with but nonetheless, she gave you some vague answers. “I don’t really know ‘cause I didn’t really look at her but she’s probably my height and she has wavy, red hair—I think. Tch, don’t want to talk about that bastard anymore.”
You can definitely see how annoyed she is whenever she talks about the event she would want to completely forget. Knowing such vague information can’t really put you up onto a desirable conclusion to help her with a revenge, you’d probably want to keep yourself off at their problem as you want no more harm or much better, to completely brush this off as you want Karina’s heart to probably mend slowly with you by her side.
Yes, even if the line’s crossed only with being just friends with her, you show passion and support towards her and it;s further ignites with your true feelings of love for her. Yes, that’s right—you genuinely love her to the point that you’re being on her tail and obsessed with her but those are the days where you’re completely depressed and she herself helped out of it and ever since that happened, you’ve never looked at her the same way again (in a good way, though).
Your love for her is unconditional, that you only love to see her genuinely happy as always, and you’re willing to make her happy whenever she’s feeling down if possible… and that’s true love.
When Karina’s about to take another sip, you stop her as she’s shocked with your actions yet you’re just implying a better change for her as it’s for her own good, not yours. “Alcohol’s not always the way, Karina.”
Of course, Karina lightly glares at you, pouting slightly before giving her reasoning, “Come on, I paid for this—just let me finish it.”
“Okay, but that’s your last, alright? Don’t want you to go out of here drunk that you couldn’t see straight.”
Of course, she has a point and you let her be. It’s at least better than most of the ways you’re thinking when she’s depressed or not in the mood and you’ll do everything to enlighten that glowing delight she always had. Yes, you’re determined to make her happy and that’s what makes her grateful to have a friend like you…
---
“I think we should go home.”
“To where, Karina?”
“My place—you can also stay for the night since I ditched his cheating ass.” Karina retorts, displaying her rage towards him and her authority over her place.
“Damn—never knew you’re brutal.” 
“What do you mean I’m brutal? He definitely deserves it!” Karina exclaimed as she stated her point and you absolutely got it—her goddamn deserves it as you just played her with your own sarcasm, making her smile a little.
Even though with the free road and minimal traffic ahead, the ride was still killing enough time as you didn’t mind it, not when the both of you jammed onto the songs throughout the travel and even talked about some interesting topics that sure piqued both your interests as the both of you get to know each other even more. You can sense her happiness slowly recharging back to its original state as her constant bright smiles and laughs with you are enough of an evidence and that alone makes yourself feel gleeful for her own good.
“Well, I think, in your place it is…”
Well, if that’s the final conclusion, then you’ll be happy to be with for the rest of the night and maybe, something may go onto the road of no-return or something we called as a spicy one…
---
“Wow, it's still as good as when I last came here.”
Karina can’t hide the chuckle she’s doing as she feels flustered with the said compliment, knowing that she organized it all well and it’s probably a man’s dream to have a home this simple yet luxurious in anyone’s eyes.
“Well, evil spirits may come and go but it’s all looking fine—you wanna eat something, though?” 
With Karina’s polite approach towards you, you might not want to decline her offer as you’re on the verge of some unbearable hunger yourself. So, without a doubt, you agreed and stood up, approaching her as she’s still busy looking for food in the fridge.
“Do you want some fried chicken? I can microwave it if you want—”
“Yeah, sure, Rina. I’ll do it myself so you don’t have to and we’ll share this…”
You then grabbed the glass tupperware from the refrigerator full of fried chicken as you prepared the ceramic plate and grabbed four for the both of you. Karina smiles from your gentlemanly advances as you initiated to do the job yourself and even though she would want herself to do the job, you just insisted on doing it yourself and that makes her heart flutter a little. You then put those delicious chicken into the microwave and set up the timer, time being the tool to test your patience as you turned to talk to her in order to kill some time of waiting.
“By the way, why are you dressed like that even though you just went to the bar?” Again, curiosity peaks your interest as you’re a bit puzzled on why she’s looking like a majestic princess with that glittery one-piece dress with only a couple of her time to spare to just drink and reflect?
“Well, what if I told you that I just wanted to dress like this?” Karina feigns her denial again, as she’s not even trying to convince you with her demeanor as the lack of gravitas made you conclude that she did something before she even went to the bar.
“And that’s a major ‘what if’, Karina. You went somewhere that’s why you dressed like that, didn't you?” You’re tone laces hubris, as you know that she went somewhere elegant to dress with the same energy of elegance. She won’t deny herself—even though she technically didn’t, and just enlightened you with a proposition.
“Okay—me and my friends went to a party and I was hesitant at first but I gave in. Also, I’m sorry I lied to you, again…”
Well, that makes much more of a sense and not going to lie, the first time you laid your eyes on her, it was an enchanting experience—it felt like your world went into an abrupt stop as you’re mesmerized on how drop-dead gorgeous she is in all aspects you can think of: her pretty, perfectly-shaped face that's visuals are blowing your mind, her porcelain skin that you’d just want to run over your fingers to feel its smoothness, her hourglass figure and that dress complimenting her curves so well and more than what you could possibly tell.
Yes, you’re goddamn in love once you saw her and you won’t be a hypocrite and deny anything unlike her—it always has been this way yet you’re just scared to confess your true feelings towards her because of her relationship and now knowing she’s pretty much in a ‘single’ status, you’ll take this opportunity slowly as your chances would be higher.
Maybe, even though it’s selfish and partly wrong on your side, there’s no harm that can be done as you won’t lose everything and will have everything to win.
“Nah, it’s fine, Rina. Also, you look great in that outfit by the way. I love it on you.”
Karina inches closer on you while you’re still leaning onto the center table at the kitchen, waiting for the food to be heated. As she approaches you closely, you could sense some rising tension from her but brush it off, thinking it’s just one of your fallacies and delusions yet it becomes more evident when she’s just inches away from you, and smiling genuinely before eyeing on your chest and maintaining eye contact towards you.
“Thanks, glad you love this outfit on me but—” Karina intoxicates you with her sweet, alcoholic breath and then catching you off-guard with a torrid kiss that made your eyes lit up in shock and excitement, her immediate actions causing you to panic, your heart tripling its beat but nonetheless, you treasure every second invested onto the kiss as you eagerly reciprocated. You find the taste of her lips addicting as you fall under her spell and you find yourself diving deeper into the intimacy of such a hot kissing session.
The earlier turmoil was now calmed as the storm is now raging between the both parties, letting both your aggressions act up as your hands roams around her waist and her body and hers roaming around the back of your head which further ignites the fiery fervor between the both of you. 
Such good things can be met with their own denouement as she pulls out of your lips’ embrace slowly, and then looking at your eyes endearingly and said, “I know what you're feeling—” Karina then points at your chest, onto your heart and continued, “—I can feel right here, beating for me.”
Well, her clever mind found out your genuine adoration towards her as there’s no point of turning back or denying—you just need confirmation from yourself even though it’s not needed, the beat of heart says so and she can feel it.
“You may not know this, Karina but—” Your hands then caressed her slender waist throughout the expensive clothing as your eyes captivate her, “—I've fallen in love with you ever since we’ve met yet I’m just scared to tell it all to you…”
You let yourself be free from the shackles that confined your true feelings for her as this opportunity should be seized up to its finest. You’ve never felt such a great sigh of relief until she directed what you’re really feeling and now with yourself being free and eased up, you couldn’t contain your need for her as you’re the one who initiated another kiss this time as the sloppy sounds of it became evident on how much you needed each other. Such clashing of soft fleshes never felt so good, and it’s better when Karina’s tongue starts dancing all over yours, intertwined as both muscles fight for dominance and utter adoration. With the messy, sloppy kisses that’s been going on for minutes, the both you further indulged into it as you didn’t mind the messy saliva that was all over your mouth since you’ve started.
“God—y-you’re such a great kisser…”
“You too, Karina—I never knew I needed this.”
Karina sighs as she felt flustered from your actions, and enlightened you with her own feelings too. “I never knew I’ll feel the same as you did to me, honestly…” 
You felt a surge of serotonin when Karina grabbed your hand and directed it onto her chest—even though it's a little uncomfortable due to the feeling of accidentally touching her busts, you’d trust her because you trust her—and then, you can feel the subsequent fast beating of her heart.
That alone makes you feel flustered knowing that the feelings are mutual between each other and you’d like to take a step further yet you need great pace with that, of course.
“Can you feel it? It’s just the same as what you’re feeling too…”
Exchanging smiles because of the comfortable feeling she has shown you, you initiated another torrid kiss yet this time, you didn’t fully invest your attention towards kissing her intimately but rather, fondled her massive mounds that you’ve always wanted to touch yet something provoked her which scared you.
“Hey! Oohh~”
“Oh shit—I’m sorry, Karina—”
“No!” Karina then grabbed your hand as she directed it onto her mounds for another time, making you involuntarily squeeze them gently and fondle them with care and in response, she moaned beautifully as its almost inaudible yet it blessed your ears and it’s such a brilliant cacophony to hear. “I want more of this~”
Given the green light, you gently kiss her neck and collarbones while fondling her tits with care and inevitably, she lets out such angelic moans that you can listen to all damn day if it means to make you feel good on your end too. Your hands can’t latch onto anything but her pillowy mounds that are magnetized within your touch as you can’t be bothered to stop due to how stress-relieving and soft those are—you’ll definitely treasure this one as Karina herself is more than a golden treasure you’re glad you can possess.
It didn’t take long before she let you take off her dress within a single motion, removing the strap off just to unveil her taut nipples all on display and you could feel your hunger coursing down your veins once you saw those buds being stiff. Of course, wanting Karina to be comfortable, you need her permission first before doing anything that can let anybody know how insatiable she is for you.
“May I?” You asked while kneeling down in level with her chest and with that actions if yours, she’s getting the grip of what you want to accomplish for both of your gratifications.
“Go ahead, baby—oh fuck! There~ ohh—shit,so good!”
Subsequent moans escape her lips as you gently nibble the bud with your teeth and then latch your tongue on it to stimulate the taut nipple, offering the best quality of pleasure possible for her. While you’re fully invested on feasting onto the succulent taste of her mounds, Karina takes some energy to let you know about her wants as you stopped and take some time to eavesdrop on her proposition.
“C-can we take this on my b-bedroom—there’s more room there for us to do this, or maybe even m-more—ahh~”
Within a speed of light, you instantly agreed onto it as she faintly smiled yet full of glee with the wants being mutual. “Of course, Karina—we should’ve thought about this sooner, honestly.”
“You’re right—but let’s g-go now. I can’t wait to see what you can do for, and to me…”
It’s only a matter of time before you settle yourselves onto the climax of the show where everything will be unveiled, within your very eyes…
---
“Oh gosh—k-keep doing that, baby…”
Constant fondling ensues as the sultry sounds escaping her lips fuels you to further keep up the pace and the momentum going. It was pleasurable for the both of you, as her constant, subtle writhing was enough of an evidence everytime you lay your fingers or your lips onto her sensitive body as you worship it, from head to toe, probably. 
Even with all of these things on the way, you can’t help but think of one thing that’s been clouding your mind ever since and with that thought, it would be perfect but you need to enlighten Karina first with your proposition as it’s willing to find the best gratification between both parties.
Now laying onto the bed, you look deeply at Karina’s glowing orbs as you mutter, “I think there’s one way to make these things better, for you and me…”
Karina’s eyes lit in excitement on what you may have in store, and also, anticipation fully rules over her and so is curiosity, making up for all the elements of being a cute, curious cat that she most likely possesses.
“Hm, you’ll see, Karina—but for now—” You let herself rest on the bed as you rose up and got something onto her drawer. Karina trusts you truly as she let herself fully anticipate your possible reward and as you face her again, she notices a black strip of cloth being brought over by you as she’s perplexed with that, thinking what you may do to her.
“Why do you have that? What are you going to do with it?”
You smirk with your devilish thoughts in mind, opting to let her anticipate for the fullest yet you’ll let her know what you had in mind that probably corrupted you for so long. “You know, Rina, I’ve thought of really doing this with you but only if you want to…”
“What is it?”
You leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Maybe a blindfold will make things better, isn’t it?”
Of course, Karina’s eyes glisten with everything that’s lustful and utter anticipation as you almost feel like you’re going to submerge into kissing her but you refrain from that, sticking onto the plan that you have in store for her. Karina then rose up from her previously laid position as every movement she does with her naked body in display is just hypnotizing yet you didn’t bother yourself drooling and wrapped her head with the dark cloth that’s on your hands, forming up a blindfold that will make anything more pleasurable as her senses will took over her, letting her savor every moment possible.
“Too tight?”
“No, it’s perfectly fine…” You can see Karina’s head wandering around as her lack of vision lets her fight-and-flight response to activate but with her utmost trust bestowed towards you, she feels comfortable as she succumbs to your care and you’ll absolutely treat her with what your heart can do, at its best.
“You sure you can’t see anything, Karina?” Of course, you need to double-check and further confirm if she can’t see anything before you start the multiple things you’ll do with her as Karina nods eagerly, persuading you that all she can see are dark hues and nothing else.
“What number is this?” Still hesitant, you draw your fingers into the air and form a number ‘three’ with it to make sure Karina can’t see anything. Growing impatient, Karina whines adorably as she’s still convincing you that she can’t see anything but in reality, you’re just annoying her just to see how adorable she is and how that cuteness of hers will soon fade when you sullied her—
“Come on, can you just—ooh—oh! That’s g-good~” Karina, still on the trance of being feisty, moaned immediately once you’ve pinch her taut buds with your fingers as you slowly relaxed her slender figure onto the bed, letting her imagination be her limit as she uses her senses to attend her needs and feel such gratification. You continue fondling her mounds until your other hands roam onto her toned midriff, her smooth, creamy thighs that you definitely nuzzle on for hours and the main event, her succulent, wet pussy that’s ready to take you, more than anything.
“You like that, Karina—the way my fingers just tease you? Oh, you could just feel it and if you can see right now, you’d probably know how wet you are, dripping onto the sheets…” With her heightened senses, she muffled her moans in order to feel and hear every action you do onto her body yet she can’t, and rather find each moan increasing in volume as she voices out her delight. You could hear her pleas as she seems needy and helpless with her state, and you, yourself, can’t even bear to see her whining uncontrollably without her needs being attended to yet you need more foreplay to fire the lust that’s been igniting inside her.
“Just a bit more, Karina—just wanna let you feel how good this is…”
“I k-know but p-please, baby—I can’t t-take it anymore!”
You can’t just let her plead for eternity, and even with your own needy self being encouraged to dive into it deeper, you listen to the voices inside your head and let your hips do the work—the mere containment of each others’ needs shouldn’t be retained further, and let everything be unveiled.
With only her sense aiding up to make herself be in the momentum of peak pleasure, she could only know you’re planning something ahead of this as she yelped once she felt your tip brushing against her wet folds and immediately, her thighs quiver and she squirmed in need in response of your teasing actions. With the deprivation of her senses, especially on her vision, she could only moan (almost screams) in need once you’ve plunged your length inside her and even with only your tip being hugged by her velvety walls, you could definitely feel her tightness as it’s gripping like its last and that’s one hell to define utter gratification.
“Fuck—you’re s-so tight, Karina—shit, so fucking tight!”
“Oh god—y-you’re so big—so good, oh god! I n-never felt this good!!”
You then start to pump onto her gripping walls with a moderate pace, aiming for her to really feel the pleasure and they way how your cock moves inside her wet cunt. Not being able to see opens a lot of opportunities especially when imagining something, and that’s probably what Karina’s doing as she treasures every thrust you do, your movements only aiming to further increase her needs for you and her libido. You start off slow, and gradually, build up the pace for some time yet you want to extend that so that Karina will most likely savor every hammer you do onto her wet, squelching cunt as her moans are strong evidence that she’s loving every second of this.
With only your tip inside when you withdraw, and then slamming back in, balls-deep is such an incredible factor that Karina finds, especially when she can’t see anything and would just feel everything you do. You’re hammering onto her wet cunt hard as you savor the grip her pussy does around to your raging length and to further stimulate her, you won’t just grip her hips and fuck her with a constant, relentless pace but rather, let her feel more than just one epicenter of attraction. With deep hunger and insatiability over her, your lips latch onto her sharp collarbones and her neck, making her feel your affection alongside your constant pumps into her pussy. The stimulation she’s experiencing right now is more than phenomenal as everything you do highlights every single detail on the utter gratification she’s feeling and that alone is such a great feeling for her to feel. It didn’t take long before you fondle her mounds again for the umpteenth time to further pleasure her as both your moans resonates around the puny room that’s soon will unable to cover them all, releasing symphonies of lust in which, will be the last thing you want to encounter.
“Does it feel better, Karina?”
It took her seconds before she could come up to articulate what you’ve just said, the peak pleasure she’s feeling frying her brain and making her incapable of thinking straight. “Y-Yes, it does—oh god, w-we should’ve done t-this sooner—ahh~”
You suckle onto the porcelain skin of her neck, tasting the musky flavor of her skin as sweat dribbled over it, the heat of the moment finally being permeated onto minuscule droplets. Your harsh suckling tends to almost mark her, which she can feel as her hands roam all over your torso, specifically on your chest as she mutters, “D-Don’t mark me p-please…”
“Yeah, yeah, I won’t mark you, Karina, don’t worry…”
Now, with a profound fervor and intense rush of need towards her, your hips are now starting to quickly build up a breakneck pace, maybe, capable of breaking her in half as you go ruthless, letting your animalistic urges take over you. Your constant rhythm sends both of your brains into an overdrive that no one can fix but yourselves and you may not even bother too, wanting yourselves to dive in between your devilish needs and the utter wanton needs that you’ve been longing for and been deprived of for a long time.
Having enough of showering her with kisses and the fondling of her tits that further submits her into utter submission, you then held her frame with both of your hands on her hips as you ensued a more ruthless pace, further hammering her wet cunt with no point of mercy and even returning back as her moans are now being converted to needy whimpers and cries which further fuels you to increase your quality of thrusts. Her senses being deprived is maybe a blessing in disguise, because on what you can conclude, she’s becoming more wetter and letting her imagine what could be happening—even down to the last, minute details—is just throwing gasoline onto the flames of lust and your needs.
Now, with a newly-crafted pace, another rhapsody has been orchestrated as it hits a series of wonders throughout your brain and Karina’s, as the pleasure was being the tool of forming melodies to voice out your satisfactions. She then wrapped her legs around your waist as you continue hammering her wet folds like there’s no tomorrow, her moans encouraging you for more and for the best of everything even though it isn’t needed—if you could only see the glint of lust within her eyes, and how it glows is her own, wanton needs, then you’ve probably broke loose and speaking of that, it’s coming not for long and it’s just going to be better. 
With the constant barrage of uncontrollable thrusts resonating such cacophonous sounds of bodies clashing together and such angelic moans, it wasn’t long before Karina deemed herself to reach closer to her eternal bliss, chasing her orgasm with her hips gyrating onto your constantly ramming length and then—
“I’m super c-close—gahh, ooh~”
The world lit up white as she succumbs onto that bliss, despite the darkness that envelops her vision as she unshackles the beast inside her, creaming all over your length as it stains everywhere on its vicinity of your nether regions: your length, your balls, the bed sheets, and some even shooting onto the floor but those were only minimal amounts.
With the arousing sight of Karina cumming hard as she can’t manage to really control how hard her orgasm hit her, it wasn’t long before you could also feel yourself drawing close to the ring of fire. With more ruthless thrusts in order to chase yours, it’s all bound to break as you immediately find your lips latching onto hers, sharing a torrid kiss in which she eagerly reciprocated and then, everything came loose.
You bury your entire length, filling her up to the hilt as you deepen the kiss, letting her know how you’re in your approaching orgasm as you fill her up with multiple streaks of thick, warm semen that’s bound to set both yourselves onto the state of paramount bliss, in which, it does. You pull out of the torrid kiss as the muffled moans from earlier are being vocally being heard, finally voicing out how great the both of you are feeling throughout your orgasm and her walls being painted white.
Now, with your impending orgasm, you slowly limp beside her as you recover from your high as does Karina, breathing heavily, chest heaving for air. You then turn onto her and remove her blindfold in one, swift motions and god, she looks ethereal, like a beautiful butterfly emerging from its cocoon as her beauty never fails to amaze you, let alone adore her in levels you can’t comprehend. She smiled widely as her endearing eyes greets you, feeling satisfied that you’ve dumped a nice volume of load inside her cunt that she’s been longing for so long now.
“Oh, that was w-way better than I expected…”
The both of you exchange smiles as delight can be felt coursing down your veins, and you immediately voiced out how great the experience was. “See? I know you’ll love these kinds of things—I told you…”
The two of you shared another intimate kiss, but this time, it’s fully passionate as the ardor between both parties ignite and not so long after, she pulled out of your lips’ embrace as you hugged her tightly, feeling the warmth of her body complimenting yours as the intense surge of adrenaline of pure passion is just clouding both your minds, unable to find out of such a wholesome cuddling session.
“Thanks for c-cumming inside me—I really wanted that for so long.”
You scoff, feeling a little shy yet in all arms in terms of giving her what she wanted. “No problem, Karina—you felt great too… Hah…”
With silence permeating the air on the once lust-filled room, the both of you stared at each other endearingly before Karina thought that something’s not right and suddenly, a spark ignites inside her—
“Oh gosh—the chicken! We totally forgot about it!!”
And well, gladly your hunger met a hindrance, and guess what? It was all for the better as you get to bless yourself with the treatment of Karina’s insatiability and that alone, is a five-star meal you’re willing to savor and cherish for the time being.
Perhaps, maybe treat you to another, if given the right time…
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triptuckers · 4 months
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bonfire - percy jackson
Request: yes! "Hey I was just wondering if you could make a Percy Jackson x gn reader where the reader had a crush on Percy for a while and was jealous of annabeth only to find out Percy felt the same" Pairing:  percy jackson x gn!reader Summary:  you've got a crush on percy, but it looks as if he only has eyes for annabeth. you try to keep your distance, but it's hard and percy notices you're absent Warnings:  jealousy, angst Word count:  1.5K A/N: happy new year!! sadly I went into the year with my tiktok account getting banned because they think I'm 13?? all I do is post silly little pjo videos but apparently its not okay so now I have to start over :( thanks for your request, enjoy!
you wonder if your life would be different if you were more like annabeth.
you're looking at her right now, as she's talking with her team. you know you can't win capture the flag from her. she's too smart. always analysing, always calculating everything that can go wrong and then preventing it.
percy is also looking at annabeth.
he's on her team, after all.
you're trying to listen as clarisse, your team captain, explains her new plan to your team. but you're only hearing half of what she's saying. you're far too focused on percy as he smiles at annabeth while she's talking to him.
you can tell he likes her. and it's not like you hadn't tried to let it go.
you had tried to push your feelings away, to ignore them, nothing worked. when you saw percy chatting with annabeth, you felt a little jealous.
soon your crush on percy and with it, your jealousy of annabeth, started to grow. so you decided if nothing worked, you'd distance yourself from percy.
it hurt, especially since percy was happy to spend his time with annabeth instead of you. at first, he would still invite you to spend time with him. but after you kept declining his offers, he eventually stopped asking you.
you tried not to show anyone how upset you were. maybe it would get easier with time. it's clear to you percy prefers annabeth over you.
on top of it all, you lose capture the flag yet again. you're forced to sit on the sidelines with your team, listening to clarisse tell you everything that went wrong. in the distance, you can see percy and annabeth celebrating their win with the rest of the team.
you tell yourself it's just a game and that you don't care their team won. maybe if you tell yourself it enough times, you might believe it.
when you're walking back to the cabins to put away your armor and weapons, you hear someone call your name behind you.
you turn around and see percy jogging to catch up with you.
you hate the way your heart still skips a beat when you see his eyes and quick smile.
'good game!' he says, stopping in front of you.
'hi percy.' you say.
'hi.' he says with a smile. gods, he's going to be the death of you one day.
'congrats on winning. again.'
'thanks! annabeth had this amazing plan.'
'athena kids, huh?' you mumble, trying not to show your disappointment at how it only took a couple of seconds for percy to bring up annabeth in the conversation.
'you busy tonight?' he says.
you look up at him. surely he wouldn't?
'not really. why?' you say.
'there's a bonfire tonight. want to come?' says percy.
'yeah, that sounds good.' you say. you could never say no to him.
sitting at the bonfire, you hadn't done that in a while. ever since you decided to try and distance yourself from percy, you missed out on things you knew he would be present at.
'great! it was annabeth's idea to host one, see you tonight!' says percy, waving at you and taking off again, headed towards his own cabin.
you just stand there. of course it was annabeth's plan, of course she'd be there as well.
as you walk to your cabin, you're not sure you can stand watching them together all night after watching them win capture the flag. but you'd told percy you'd come. and you hate to let him down.
so when the sun is setting, you make your way to the bonfire. while you're walking, you can't stop thinking about how cold it is. you should have brought a jacket. but you're afraid that if you go back to your cabin, you won't go to the bonfire anymore. and then percy would be upset.
at the bonfire, there's almost no kids from your team. there are a few of your siblings, but not a lot.
the kids from the opposite team are dancing, laughing and celebrating.
is this really where you want to be tonight?
you spot percy in the distance, talking with a few apollo kids. without meaning to, your eyes also search for annabeth. she's sitting with her siblings. at least they're not together again.
you'd stay for an hour. just to show your face, then you'd go back to your cabin. that's acceptable, right?
you get yourself a drink and sit down near the edge of the party, where most of the kids are just talking with each other and not really doing a lot.
as you think back to capture the flag earlier today, you try to figure out how annabeth's team could always beat yours. you know athena kids are smart, but ares kids also know a lot about battle strategies. maybe you could sit down with clarisse some day and see if you can help her with a new plan.
you're lost in thoughts, when you hear a familiar laugh in the distance. you look over and see annabeth has left her siblings and is now sitting next to percy.
you sigh softly, it was never going to be any different, was it?
for a while, you watch the other kids, listening to their songs. you had to give it to the apollo cabin, they know how to get a party started. when you look back at percy and annabeth, percy is gone.
before you can look around where he is, someone sits down next to you.
'having fun?'
you turn and are met with percy's bright eyes. you put on a smile, hoping it looks sincere.
'yeah. thanks for inviting me.' you say.
percy tilts his head a little and gives you a confusing look.
'you say you're having fun and yet since you got here you've been sitting here with a drink you haven't touched, freezing and shivering.' says percy.
right. you forgot your jacket.
'sorry. I was thinking about capture the flag.' you say.
'ah yes, about our fantastic victory.' says percy, smiling and bumping your shoulder. 'you should come up with a new plan some day. maybe talk to clarisse about it?'
'I will.' you say.
'then again, it is hard to beat annabeth's plans. sometimes I don't even know her entire plan until the game is already over.' says percy.
really? how does he manage to bring up annabeth every single time he's talking to you?
'well, don't let me keep you.' you say. 'thanks for checking in, but you don't have to take pity on me for losing. you can go back to annabeth now.'
percy frowns. 'what are you talking about?' he says.
'well, clearly you like her.' you say.
percy laughs at your words. you feel the color drain from your face. tears start to form in your eyes.
'alright, I'm leaving.' you say, getting up.
percy abruptly stops laughing. 'wait no, please don't go.' he says, pulling you back down.
'sorry, I shouldn't have laughed at that. it's just, yeah, I like annabeth. but not like that, we're just friends. I like you, okay? I thought you knew.' says percy.
your lips part in surprise. did you hear that right?
'you like me?' you say. 'like... you like like me?'
percy smiles. gods he really is beautiful. 'yeah, I like like you, alright.' he says. 'which reminds me, why have you been avoiding me lately?'
you look down, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. 'I thought if I wouldn't see you, my feelings for you would go away.'
'but they didn't.'
'no, they didn't. my eyes were still finding you in ever room. even tonight, I didn't really want to come. but I couldn't say no to you.'
'is that also why you didn't bring a jacket? so you'd have an excuse to go back soon?'
you look up and shake your head. 'no, I did actually forget my jacket.' you say.
percy takes off his sweater and hands it to you. 'here.' he says. 'wouldn't want you to freeze.'
'thank you.' you say, taking it and putting it on. it's bigger than your own sweaters and smells like him.
'want to get out of here?' says percy. 'we can go to the lake. or my cabin, no one's there. it'll just be the two of us.'
'do you have a heater in your cabin?' you say.
'no.' says percy, getting up and holding out his hand to you. 'but consider me your personal heater from now on. always available for cuddles.'
you smile, taking his hand. 'I like that.' you say.
as you and percy walk off, annabeth is still sitting by the campfire. she's smiling to herself. she knew about percy's crush on you. he'd been asking her all sorts of advice. and it looks like he finally told you.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit
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wicchyy · 4 months
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—0.3 boundary less ; james potter
sum: you and James are best friends. right? /bestfriend!James
warnings: none rly
notes: i fully believe in being best friends with james yall will not have boundaries
You’ve been friends with James Potter for as long as you can remember. Since you were in diapers, perhaps. You’d bathe and splash around in the bath with him when you were younger. Your mums were close and you’d spend almost every holiday with the Potter family. It wasn’t a strange thing for you to be seen with James after all. You’d already been apart of James’ life since day one. You knew the marauders of course, the rest of them. But you chose not to be apart of their group, deciding that they could have their own fun of pranks and troublesome adventures.
You however always sat on the couch late at night, when the boys were out doing something you’d prefer not to take part in. Then when the clock struck midnight, they’d come inside with their hushed voices and footsteps trying not to alert anyone. But you would always be there to see none other than James.
If he’d been hurt or in need of a good night hug, you’d wait just a while before your bedtime to see his face. At least if you wanted your morning the next day to be a pleasant one. He was your best friend, your lucky charm, your favorite person.
James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter stepped inside the commons just to see your usual presence. But this time you weren’t practicing your charms or reading a muggle book. You were tucked in nicely with a big knit blanket, hair splayed on the pillows, snug in James’ warm quidditch sweater.
“I’m heading straight to bed, boys. Absolutely knackered.” Peter whispered, patting Remus on the back and saying his goodbyes quickly.
The other joined you on the couch. Remus grabbing the book from the floor, clearly after your use. He settled on the single chair beside you and Sirius quickly joined him, planting his arse on the floor and leaning against his boyfriend’s feet. They knew James’ routine so well, knowing he’d want to spend the few moment with you and waiting up for him.
James made his few steps toward you, brushing stray hairs from your face before blowing at it. He knew it was just the thing to wake you up. Your eyes fluttered immediately, waking up to seeing James Potter’s pretty face. It certainly was a way to wake you up.
“Jamie!” You slapped his chest, straightening up your body and rubbing sleep away from your eyes. James took his place comfortable beside you, placing your foot atop his lap and smiling softly at you.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He replied, “You sure y’not tired? I’ll take you up upstairs if you are.” James always had a way of making your heart beat faster with the way he expressed his care.
“I’m quite fine. I was waiting for you guys, y’know.” You sighed softly, leaning back comfortably.
“Missed you darlin’, your loverboy here has decided on some new pranks we’d like to put in action next week.” Remus chimed from behind you.
“Mm. Remind me again, Y/n. Why aren’t you ever present for our wonderful tricks?” Sirius says in his tired tone.
James chuckles, answering for you. “Because, Pads, she’s a good girl.” He pats your knee.
You smiled at your best friend, “Yes, Jamie. I am. But also, because I prefer the solitude of the commons rather than running around and creating trouble around the castle.”
“Mhm. I thought your preferred solitude was with me.” James smiles.
You retracted your legs from his lap and changed your position to sit beside him. Thighs touching, warmth immediately radiating off him and you were impatient for him to wrap his arms around you. James took your change of position as a sign to immediately circle his arm around your shoulders. “Certainly one of my favorite.”
Remus simply smiles at you while Sirius rolls his eyes. They’ve become used to this behavior by now. The absence of boundaries between you and James’ friendship was somewhat of a regular routine for their eyes.
James dips his head at the curve of your neck, his nose prodding at your soft skin. You can feel his mouth curving up to form a smile. James breathes out a soft sigh, the feeling causing shivers all over your skin. “You smell nice, sweetheart.” He lays his head on your shoulder and your hand starts to mess with his curls.
The intimacy of this— of your friendship, was something you’d always treasure between you two. You’ve been chastised by Sirius many times as he’s told you about the attachment you and James have. How both of you had been unable to secure a significant other as you played the part well in looking so.
“Wearing your sweater, so technically you smell nice.”
“Mm, no. ‘S just you, honey.”
You laughed lightly, your fingers still messing around with his hair. He loved it as well as you.
“Oi, can you both just get it over with? Go get a room and snog or some—“ Sirius complains.
“What Pads means is that perhaps we should bid you goodnight now. He’s quite tired.” Remus cuts in, pulling at Sirius’ shoulder and getting him to stand up.
Sirius starts, but hes quickly being pulled up the staircase by Remus. “What—? That’s not what I mean, Moons.”
James waves his friends off, relaxing now that no one ought to judge him for the version of himself when he’s with you.
“Christ, I never want to leave from your arms.” James flirts.
Your fingers stop messing with his curls, but instead grabs at the arm he has around your shoulders and pulls his face closer. You set his head on your lap, his face gazing up at you.
“Sorry, Jamie. Y’know how you make my lap warm.”
James just smiles softly up at you, taking your hands to both of his cheeks. He likes the warmth of your palms that have been lying beneath the blankets and near the fireplace. “Missed you today, sweetheart.”
“You always miss me, Jamesie.”
He smiles with his perfect lips, pouting like a baby knowing that you find his ridiculous look adoring. “True. However, I only have one class with you on Fridays and I have clubs the whole day after. And I promised the boys I’d discuss forward our plan today.”
“Too occupied to see me, hm?”
“Never. I truly am sorry, honey.”
You pinched his cheeks lightly, glancing just barely at his plump lips you so badly want to kiss. “You only have time for me when it’s late, James?”
“Oh, come on. You know it’s our time when it’s late.”
True. Nights like these were reserved for you and James only. And you wouldn’t have it any other way, truly.
“I guess I can accept your apology. With only one more request.”
James smiles up at you. “Stay at my dorm tonight?”
“Obviously.” You laughed, tracing James’ soft skin with your fingertips. “I’ve got my period today, need your aiding cuddles.”
“Course, sweetheart. I’ve always got ya, haven’t I?”
James positions his body to sit up and he places a quick, featherlight kiss on your cheek. He stands up from the place in your lap. “Come on now, up you go honey. Much warmer in my dorm.”
You grab his hand and intertwine them, standing up as James envelops you on his arms.
You’d never need anyone else if you would always have James with you, just like this.
💌 thanks for reading lovie! support me by reblogging <3
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never2tired4u · 4 months
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OBEY ME! Dateables x Reader
One night, out of nowhere, you started to feel an ache all over your little sheep body. It got worse and worse and you were just about to call for help, until your vision got surrendered by smoke! Once you opened your eyes again you… were turned back into your human form!
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Characters: 《°•[ Solomon , Simeon , Diavolo , Barbatos...]•°》
Summary: 《°•[ Sheep MC turns back into human... ]•°》
Warnings: 《°•[ Simeon , Barbatos' part contains suggestive themes...Also Simeon's part contain a spoiler from lesson 76, sorry to anyone who got spoiled 😭]•°》
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“Oh no.”
“What do you mean ‘Oh no’?” you grumbled, crossing your arms as you glared at the shady magician. His face contained a frown, making you confused, “Not happy that I turned back into human?”
“...Are you happy that you turned back into human…?” Now he sounded confused too, “I thought you might be sad considering when you were a sheep no one expected you to walk long distances, cook meals, or clean. And you were always carried by one of the brothers, weren't you?” he sighed, making you realize how much attention he paid to your sheep form. He was right, people let you off the hook more easily when it come to chores. After all, you were small, and had no fingers, but the downside was that you were small and had no fingers.
“Yes, but both forms have their ups and downs… Being a sheep wasn't as fun as you seem to think.”
“Maybe I should turn myself into a sheep?”
“...What?”
“Well, I wouldn't mind being carried by you. I used to love carrying you around, you might like having me in your arms too.” he smiled, you didn't know what to think of his smile though. He doesn't seem to be actually interested in this topic, it was more like he was trying to hide something.
And yes, Solomon actually IS trying to hide something, nothing important, really. Just his jealousy. Like usual.
He noticed how people's eyes lingered on your form more after you turned back into human, and they always had this weird mesmerized look in their eyes whenever you walked by which made him furious. Only he is allowed to look at you that way. So maybe if he became a sheep and made you carry him around he could scare your new suitors? Played little harmless pranks on them?
“Solomon, please.” your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “You are fine the way you are. And I was…really looking forward to the day we could walk hand in hand.”
Ah. He is sure he had the same mesmerized look on his face he was talking about.
Your warm hand enveloped his as he blindly followed you, not really caring where you are taking him, “I'm sure your sheep form would be very cute though.” you said with a smile which made him chuckle.
“Haha, yes, I think so too.” he looked at you with a faux innocence, “maybe we can both turn into sheeps and run to the horizon hoof in hoof?”
“Solomon.”
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(*** suggestive)
Simeon was sitting on the sofa in the Cocytus hall and browsing through his phone, more used to the technology now. However the calm atmosphere surrendering him disappeared when a sudden weight on his shoulder made him jump a little. He turned his head to see what it was to only find you resting your head on him.
You hummed, not looking sorry for scaring him at all, “Sorry, did I scare you?”
“Ah.” right, you weren't a cute little sheep anymore. You were in your human form, able to reach places, like his shoulders, “I forgot that you can reach my shoulders now.” he chuckled.
You joined in his laughter then let out a fake angry huff, “You better get used to it.”
Simeon looked at you, unfortunately, he was only able to see a little bit of your face since your hair was in the way. It was a little upsetting that he couldn't see it fully but your hair tickling his jaw made his sadness quickly disappear. He sighed happily as he placed a hand on top of your head, “Then, perhaps you should spend more time with me to help me adjust quickly.”
“...So~ does that mean you prefer human me?” you said with a smirk as you looked up at him.
“Hmm…I have to say, as a sheep you were very cute.” he mumbled innocently, but the teasing smile on his face said otherwise. However, it quickly became wobbly as soon as he saw your frown, “Of course, you are cute like this too.” he quickly added.
“I see…Not ‘very’ cute though, huh.”
“H-huh?”
He tried to meet your gaze as you stared at the floor, seemingly in deep thought. He hoped he didn't make you angry. Simeon opened his mouth to apologize only to find himself suddenly lying on his back. A shocked expression appeared on his face, and his cheeks warmed up as soon as your face came into view.
You got on top of him, body creating a shadow over him. How fitting, considering you do really bring dark thoughts in his mind.
“Shall I give you different reasons to love this body, Simeon?” you said, voice calm maybe a little playful, it was nothing to be afraid of but for Simeon you were really intimidating at this moment. Even if he wasn't an angel anymore he still felt like he was about to get corrupted by you -again-. Which seems to make him embarrassingly more excited.
“Yes… Please do.” he could only whisper, not really thinking straight. He shut his eyes and waited for you to do whatever you please with him.
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Once you turned human the very first thing Diavolo did was laugh happily and offer you lots of, I mean, LOT OF clothes. Rambling to himself and not hearing your protests as he went around the shops to get even more, “Maybe this dress? Oh! This suit is made with such fine fabric too! And these shoes would go nicely with them! What do you think of these accessories- actually. We'll just take them all, please put it in the basket!” he chuckled.
“Diavolo, where would I even wear those?” you let out a tired sigh as you walked behind him, starting to miss your sheep form with how much walking you had to do. If you were a sheep, you could've just made him carry you in his arms…Now that you think about it, it's been a while since he… showed his affection physically. He was acting more like a sugar daddy instead. It's been so long since he hugged you that you were actually starting to miss his crushing hugs.
“Can you try these for me?” he turned around to give you the bags, inside of it was probably the clothes he was talking about, “I promise these are the last ones.” he said, sounding apologetic, probably noticing how tired you seemed. You just nodded and went into the cabin. Once you were done, you stepped out. Only to be greeted by Diavolo's sparkling eyes and huge smile, “Just as I thought, it looks great on you!”
You were kind of getting nervous at this point, he was really starting to act like...a stranger, “Uhm, you think so?”
“Yes, it can stay on you if you want. Let me just go and pay-”
“Diavolo, why are you trying to dress me up?” you decided to finally question him, at first it was a nice way to spend time with him, no matter how tired shopping was actually getting, but now…
“Do you think…I look ugly? Is that why you are dressing me up in expensive clothes…?”
“What?!” you have never seen Diavolo look this horrified, “Of course not- I- No, that's… Did I seem like that?” he sighed, “Love…I apologize deeply. I was just really excited. After seeing your human form I just couldn't help but imagine how you would look like in different clothes, but there are just objects to make your beauty shine more, nothing else.” his warm hands grabbed yours, giving them a little squeezed as he gazed into your eyes.
You were starting to feel a little bit okay, but still wanted to tease him as a punishment. So you crossed your arms and huffed, “And you've been acting a lot distant too! Everytime I try to hug you you are running off to somewhere, very rude!"
He chuckled when he noticed how you were playfully scolding him, “Oh dear. I didn't even notice. Looks like seeing you like this, really did make me…” he suddenly stopped, eyes locked into yours as his cheeks slowly darkened. Diavolo turns his head, “As I was saying…” he mumbled, voice shaky, “I'll be sure to act more carefully.”
“That isn't what I want…” you sighed, frowning. Seems like the future king is still unable to understand your requests, “I don't want you to act more carefully, I want you to act like my lover.”
“Oh!”
“Now, give me a hug?”
“Of course!”
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(*** suggestive)
Barbatos is someone who prefers to stand back and observe people, hence why you didn't see him much after you turned. Only after everyone had their moment and talk with you did he come to you, and even then it still a very short interaction. He smiled and said, “I'm happy for you.” with his usual charming smile on his face when… talking to people. However, you were hoping for more from him. Especially with something like your outer appearance. You wanted to see him become surprised with your appearance or something, like those cheesy cliché scenes in romance movies.
“Reality can be really disappointing…” you mumbled as you watched Barbatos cook dinner.
“Hm? Where is this coming from? You sounded a lot like Leviathan just now.” he didn't turn around, continuing to stir the pot.
“Barbatos, do you ever get surprised or embarrassed?” you asked without thinking, but guessed it would be fine since he won't understand what you are talking about anyway. Just a random question. Yeah. Nothing weird about that.
“I do, of course.” he put away the spoon, finally turning to you, “I do get…Surprised. From lot of things.”
“Really? That's hard to believe…” you muttered to yourself, “Like what?”
“You.” he smiled.
“Me??” you almost fell from your chair, maybe your appearance really did affect him but he was good at hiding? “Uhm… Why?”
Barbatos tipped his head to the side as he closed his eyes and smirked, “Just the way you act. Your personality. And how you overcome difficulties.” the way he said it seemed so…polite and kind. Which made you weirdly annoyed since you already heard something like this from him. However, you shouldn't get frustrated at him for that...
“I…” you tried not to sigh, “Appreciate it.”
“And how you are seeking my compliments is also very surprising.”
“I- wait, what??”
He chuckled, appearing in front of you in a blink of an eye. Giving you no time to gather yourself, “The brothers, the angels, other demons, and even the Demon Lord... They all complimented you but here you are sulking because I didn't say anything about your human form?” he leaned in closer, taking his gloves off and placing his hands on your cheeks. His sudden warm touch on your cheeks surprising you as he held your face. Without his gloves it was strangely very… Intimate.
The feeling of one of them sliding from your cheek, to your jaw and slowly to your hand to bring it to his lips is even more exciting, “I can't say I dislike it.” he whispers, his breath tickles your skin which causes your whole body to shiver as his piercing eyes look into yours, “If you are curious about what I think maybe I can tell you, or maybe you would like me to show you? Which one would you prefer?”
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Ⓒ2O23
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