#be fun if flash can’t fix it

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 168

Flash messes with time, in doing so Danny ends up in a bad position.Danny was totally by coincidence summoned to clockworks towers. He gets back to see His parents way are now way big mad scientist. Like on the leagues watch list mad scientist. Like villainous mad scientist. But the two do hide there identities shockingly well.

Danny in this never had his accident. So his parents had enlisted his rouges to help cause chaos and mayhem. The world is now constantly pestered by ghost from the zone.

Phantom does not exist. No one is friends with jazz or Danny out of fear.

Jazz is the one to realize something is wrong, followed by the parents who want to forcibly make Danny help them, even if it means breaking him. Jazz helps Danny escape.

Danny had it and knows it has to be flashes fault. Clockwork has told him stories about flash, mainly to make fun of him. But it has to be his fault.

Cue Danny dragging jazz along to go yell at flash for messing with time. Flash has no idea who Danny is (he was small time Danny had avoided them). Danny is not having it at all just screaming at him about his parents being crazy, none of his friends being his friends and blames him for the ghost problem now facing the world.

#dpxdc #Danny is mad #jazz is confused #be fun if flash can’t fix it #as the world was worse before #Danny didn’t see how bad it was cause he was in the ghost zone #Danny now has a ghost problem to deal with #vlad is totally helping #he is down #the three would make a good villain trio #flash messes with time #but clockwork finds it funny the bulk of the time #clockwork was not letting Danny loose his powers and had him in his tower #that way the effects didn’t hit him

[pucksandpower]

Too Sweet

Toto Wolff x Reader

Max Verstappen x ex!Reader

Summary: Max used to think that you’re too sweet for him … now he has to learn to live with the fact that Toto has quite a sweet tooth (inspired by the song that I’ve had on repeat)

I take my whiskеy neat

The doors to the upscale restaurant swing open and Max strides through, his fingers lightly grazing the small of your back as he guides you inside. The dimly lit interior is bustling with the chatter of well-heeled patrons enjoying their evening repasts. A sharply dressed hostess greets you with a polite smile.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to The Sazerac Room. Do you have a reservation?”

“Verstappen,” Max replies curtly.

The hostess consults her tablet, then nods. “Right this way please.”

She leads the two of you through the elegant dining room, weaving between tables topped with crisp white linens and elaborate floral centerpieces. Max keeps his hand at your back, his thumb idly stroking in a soothing pattern as you take in the opulent surroundings with wide eyes.

“This place is incredible,” you murmur, craning your neck to admire the ornate chandeliers glittering overhead. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He simply grunts in acknowledgment as the hostess stops before an intimate table tucked discreetly in the corner. After pulling out your chair for you with a flourish, she sets two leather-bound menus on the table.

“Your server will be right with you,” she informs them before departing with a polite nod.

You waste no time in opening your menu, hungrily perusing the offerings. “Oh Max, look at all these amazing cocktails! The La Vie en Rose sounds divine — rose liqueur, raspberries, lemon ...” You glance up at him hopefully. “We should get a couple of those to start.”

Max barely glances at his own menu before shaking his head. “I’ll just have a whiskey neat.”

Your face falls slightly at his brusque response. “Are you sure? These all look so good! We should live a little and try something fun for once.”

He fixes you with a stern look from across the table. “You know I don’t like frilly drinks. Now stop pestering me about it.”

Chastened by his harsh tone, you lapse into a wounded silence and continue reading the menu with diminished enthusiasm. A few moments later, a dapper middle-aged gentleman in a crisp suit appears at your table.

“Good evening, and welcome to The Sazerac Room. My name is William and I’ll be your server this evening.” With a polite smile, he produces a notepad from his breast pocket. “May I start you off with something to drink?”

You glance back at Max, giving him one last chance to change his mind. When he simply gazes back at you impassively, you sigh. “I’ll have the La Vie en Rose cocktail, please.”

William jots down your order before turning to Max expectantly.

“Whiskey neat,” Max says flatly. “Redbreast 27 Year, if you have it.”

“An excellent choice, sir.” William makes a note. “And may I bring you both some bread from our bakery while you decide on your meals?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” you reply gratefully.

William departs to place the drink orders, leaving you and Max alone once more. An awkward silence stretches between you, filled only by the tinkle of silverware and murmurs of conversation from surrounding tables.

Finally, you try again. “Max, are you sure I can’t tempt you with one little sip? This La Vie en Rose cocktail sounds absolutely divine. You might lov-”

“For fuck’s sake!” Max suddenly explodes, slamming his menu down on the table hard enough to rattle the cutlery. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want any of your ridiculous fruity bullshit? I’m a fucking race car driver, not some ridiculous Instagram model trying to look pretty with my drink.”

His nostrils flare as he leans across the table, eyes flashing with irritation that you would dare continue to push the issue. “I’ve had a long fucking day and I am going to drink whatever the fuck I want. So order your stupid fucking girly cocktail if you must, but don’t act so goddamn disappointed and keep shoving it in my face when I say no.”

You shrink back in your chair, eyes widening with hurt at his enraged outburst. The crestfallen look on your face is enough to douse Max’s fury like a bucket of ice water. He slumps back, remorse already stirring as he witnesses the light dimming in your eyes, lips trembling ever so slightly as you blink back sudden tears.

“I … I was just excited to try something new together,” you whisper shakily. “But never mind. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

The arrival of William with a basket of assorted breads and your glittering pink cocktail garnished with raspberries provides a merciful distraction from the tension.

You immediately reach for the drink, wrapping your hands around the delicate stemmed glass and taking a large gulp — both to avoid making eye contact with Max and to sample your coveted libation.

A look of bliss softens your features as the tart, sugary concoction bursts across your taste buds. “Mmm, this is incredible!”

For a beat, Max can’t help but drink in your look of pure enjoyment — the way your eyes flutter closed in delight, pink lips quirking into a contented smile as you savor each sip. It simultaneously tugs at his heartstrings and fills him with an irrational stab of resentment.

Here you are, sweet and radiant, able to find joy in the simplest of things … while he is just a miserable bastard who can’t let himself enjoy anything without getting irrationally angry.

You deserve so much better than him.

The thought is sobering and he feels shame burn hot in his gut. Unconsciously, his shoulders slump as he watches you take another euphoric sip of your cocktail.

“I knew it, this is amazing,” you sigh happily, seemingly recovered from his earlier tantrum as you bask in the deliciousness of your drink. “Max, you have to try just one little-”

“No.” The refusal is automatic, the word slicing through your offer before he can think better of it.

Your face shutters once more, the bright light in your eyes dimming as your smile fades into resignation. With a soft exhale, you set your glass down and reach for the bread basket instead.

“Suit yourself, then.”

As you silently butter a roll, Max finds himself at a rare loss, anger dissipating into regret as the knot in his stomach tightens painfully. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration after his impressive win on the track, a chance for the two of you to enjoy each other’s company and make more happy memories together.

Instead, he’s gone and ruined the mood … again … just like he always does.

***

“Another round?” Checo’s voice cuts through the sound of laughter and chatter around the table.

Max glances up distractedly from pushing the remaining bits of food around his plate. He, Checo, and a few other members of the Red Bull team are celebrating a successful Monaco Grand Prix. Despite making the podium, Max’s mind hasn’t really been on the festivities.

“I’m all set, thanks,” he mutters, raising his glass of whiskey with a tight smile before taking a sip. His gaze drifts across the opulent dining room of Cipriani Monte Carlo, idly scanning the crowd of wealthy patrons enjoying their evening meals.

That’s when his eyes catch on a shockingly familiar figure.

You.

Sitting at an intimate corner table, bathed in the soft glow of a candle’s flickering flame. For a moment, Max’s breath catches in his throat as a thousand bittersweet memories assault him all at once.

The hurt look on your face that night at The Sazerac Room … the resignation in your eyes as you accepted, yet again, that he would never be able to appreciate the sweet, simple pleasures that brought you such joy ...

The cold, empty silence that descended over your apartment when he finally left for good, stuffing his belongings into a duffel bag as you watched with trembling lips from across the room ...

Max blinks, and the moment passes — but his gaze remains riveted to your table. Because there, sitting across from you with adoration written across his insufferable face … is Toto Wolff.

Max feels his lips curl into an unconscious sneer as the Mercedes team principal murmurs something to you with a gentle smile, reaching across to delicately brush a lock of hair behind your ear. You catch Toto’s hand as it falls, pressing a tender kiss into his palm that makes the older man’s expression soften even further.

Your waiter arrives then, providing a momentary distraction as he lays out a couple of fresh cocktails on crisp white linen — a bright purple concoction garnished with a sugared rim and a plump cherry for you and an amber-hued old fashioned for Toto.

Your eyes light up as you take in the colorful beverage, immediately wrapping your hands around the delicate stemmed glass and bringing it to your lips to sample. A look of pure delight crosses your features as the no doubt sugary drink bursts across your taste buds.

“Mmm ...” you hum in pleasure, causing Toto to chuckle affectionately as he watches you enjoy the first reveling sips.

Setting your glass down, you gesture enthusiastically toward it as you address Toto. “This is incredible! You have to try it.”

Without hesitation, the Mercedes team boss dutifully leans across the table to take a long pull from your straw. Max watches with a mixture of disgust and morbid fascination as Toto’s expression morphs into one of surprised enjoyment.

“Wow, that is quite good, isn’t it?” Toto remarks with an indulgent grin, licking a telltale dab of purple syrup from the corner of his mouth.

“I told you!” You crow in delight, eyes sparkling with unrestrained glee.

The pure joy radiating from you in that moment is enough to make Max’s heart clench in his chest. He has seen that look before, so many times — whenever he deigned to let go of his surly demeanor for even a moment and actually indulge whatever fleeting whim or simple pleasure you desired to share with him.

But it was always so short-lived with him, stamped out by his own stubborn refusal to truly embrace anything resembling happiness or frivolity. You deserved so much more than his constant scowling and gruff rebuffs.

As if reading his thoughts, Toto then leans across the table to tenderly capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The gentle intimacy of it makes Max’s gut churn as a feeling too complicated to fully unpack blossoms in his chest.

When you finally part, both of you are smiling at each other with such open, unguarded adoration that it’s almost obscene to witness. Toto reaches out to cradle your face in his palm as your lips find his once more in another chaste, loving caress.

This time, when you pull away, you let your head loll back with a look of pure bliss. Something deep within Max cracks and splinters at the sight. In a haze, he finds himself drifting back through the churning currents of memory ...

… that last, fateful shouting match in your living room, both of you red-faced and furious as the dam holding back all the anger and resentment and accusations that had been building for months finally burst ...

… you weeping silently as you clutched a meager trash bag containing what little remained of his belongings, not even able to look at him for fear of collapsing completely ...

… “I’m too sweet for you, Max. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

The acid words burn in his mind even now, feeling as fresh and raw as that night they were spat out like venom between you. His chest constricts as his gaze falls guiltily back to the present day scene in front of him.

Toto and you, basking in the warm, rosy glow of new love — careless and unrestrained in your public affection. Delighting in each other’s company and simple pleasures … just as you always desired for Max to do, yet he could never fully surrender to.

The display is like a twisted mirror, taunting him with the vibrant reflection of what he threw away. What he was too foolish, too emotionally stunted and uncaring to fully appreciate at the time.

Stumbling from his chair in a daze, Max barely registers the questioning looks and concerned murmurs from his team as he staggers from the dining room. He hardly makes it to the privacy of the restroom before bending at the waist, hefting the contents of his stomach into the thankfully pristine porcelain basin.

The whiskey burns on the way back up.

Max grips the edges of the counter, face contorted in anguish as a realization washes over him in searing waves.

You were the real prize all along … and now, he’s lost you for good.

My coffee black

The drone of announcements over the PA system and the dull roar of hundreds of people bustling to and fro mingles into an ever-present white noise hum. Max trudges ahead, the brim of his ball cap tugged low as he weaves through the teeming crowds filing through the airports’ terminals.

It’s just after 5 am, the start of another grueling race week. This time the travel will take you from the Middle Eastern leg of the circuit to the other side of the world in Australia. Twenty-plus hours of planes, layovers, and jet lag beckon — a prospect that grows less and less appealing with each passing season.

A warm weight presses against his side as you shuffle along beside him, head lolling adorably as you struggle to keep your eyes open. One slender hand is looped through the crook of his elbow, gripping the strap of your carry-on bag with the other. You let out a jaw-cracking yawn, leaning into Max’s solid bulk.

“I need coffee,” you mumble groggily. “I’m barely conscious.”

He shoots you a sidelong glance, mouth quirking ever-so-slightly at your dramatics. As grating as your tendency for excessive cheerfulness can be at times, he does admire your ability to shake off the fatigue and stress that plagues him more and more these days.

“There’s one of those chains up ahead,” he grunts, nodding toward the familiar logo peeking through from around the corner.

You light up immediately, straightening and quickening your shuffling steps in anticipation of the caffeinated boost soon to come. By the time you reach the counter, there’s a bright spark back in your eyes that makes the exhaustion plaguing Max’s own limbs feel slightly more bearable.

The barista, a pimple-faced youth who can’t be any older than 18, greets you with a too-wide smile. “Welcome to Daily Grind! What can I get started for you?”

You lean in eagerly, surveying the massive display of chalkboard signs advertising the latest sugar bombs and “coffee” concoctions designed to appease the basic palates of everyday people who wouldn’t know a good cup of joe if it slapped them across the face. Max scowls, already anticipating some ridiculously saccharine order.

“I’ll have a large cinnamon honey oat milk latte, please,” you chirp, as expected.

The barista marks down your request with a perky nod. “Excellent! And for you, sir?”

“Black coffee,” Max replies flatly. “Medium.”

Your brow furrows as you shoot him a quizzical look. “Just black coffee? Not even a splash of cream or anything?”

He shakes his head tersely, one hand already rummaging in his pocket for his wallet as the barista rattles off the total. “We’re in a rush as it is, and that sugary nonsense you ordered takes forever to make with all the fussy bullshit they do to it.”

You wince at his blunt assessment, shoulders slumping a bit in a way that makes a pang of guilt flicker through Max’s chest. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh … but sometimes it’s like the more considerate side of his nature has been ground away by years of constant training and calculating every single variable down to the most minute detail.

The poor kid working the register seems to shrink under the intensity of Max’s gruff demeanor. With shaky hands, he quickly processes the payment before stammering out your total. As you shuffle off to the side to wait for your orders, Max can’t help but keep picking.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you insist on ordering those stupid drinks that are 90% milk and trash,” he mutters, shooting you a disapproving look. “Barely any actual coffee at all.”

You frown, immediately hunching into yourself a bit as you cradle a handful of napkins against your chest. “It’s not like that coffee flavor isn’t there at all,” you argue meekly. “And I have to get some kind of caffeine boost to stay awake during all these flights and race weekends. I just … I don’t really like the taste of black coffee.”

Max scoffs loudly at that, shaking his head in open derision. “Sure, because drinking just regular black coffee like an adult would be too difficult. Instead you have to get your ‘caffeine boost’ from some tooth-rottingly sweet concoction that looks like something a child would order.”

The barista shifts uncomfortably behind the counter, clearly flustered by Max’s abrasive tone. Not that he cares — he’s been dealing with people gawking at him in public for years now. What does rub him the wrong way is the wounded look spreading across your delicate features, eyes dropping to stare dejectedly at the floor.

He opens his mouth to continue chiding you, but at that moment the barista appears with your drinks. The sweet, cinnamony aroma of your order hits Max’s nostrils like a slap in the face, making his nose wrinkle on instinct. You accept your oversized paper cup gratefully, hands automatically curling around the comforting warmth.

With visible enthusiasm, you bring the drink to your lips, unable to resist taking a sip despite the scalding temperature. Max tracks the minute changes in your expression — the slight widening of your eyes, the upward quirk of your lips into a smile of unalloyed contentment. Your lashes flutter closed on a quiet hum of blissful appreciation.

“Mmm … heaven,” you practically moan, hunching over your cup as though to better inhale the revitalizing notes of sugar and spice.

It makes Max want to retch, watching you so unashamedly indulging in such vapid, artificial flavors. How can you find such simple-minded pleasure in that, when you could be savoring the bold, robust notes of a proper cup of black coffee? One meant to awaken the senses and caress the taste buds with its smoky aroma and rich, nuanced flavor notes.

“You can’t honestly get any enjoyment from basically drinking hot milk and flavored syrups,” he mutters, sneering at the offensive beverage in your grasp.

In response, you simply shift closer to him until you’re pressed alongside his body. Your free hand snakes around his bicep, squeezing gently as you tilt your head back to gaze up at him imploringly. Exhaustion and hurt war openly with the angelic softness of your delicate features.

“Max … can’t you just let me enjoy this?” You plead in a low murmur. “It’s early, and we’ve got a long flight ahead.”

His jaw clenches stubbornly, unwilling to back down so easily. Caffeine and sleep deprivation have eroded his already thin sense of decorum.

“I’m just saying, drinking a syrupy dessert drink loaded with sugar and god knows what else isn’t doing you any favors. You might as well just stick to black coffee like a normal adult if you want to be awake and energized.”

The wounded look in your eyes deepens into something more somber and resigned. Slowly, you pull away from Max’s side until a noticeable distance stretches between your bodies. Something inside him shrivels at the loss of contact. Your slender fingers work feverishly at the cup’s lid until it pops off with a dull thunk.

Max stares blankly as you march over to the nearest trash can and upend the contents of your cup into the receptacle. You don’t even seem to hesitate — simply turn on your heel and hurl the now-empty cup in after the wasted drink. It clatters hollowly against the canister, mocking and empty.

When you turn back to face Max, the sight makes the now-lukewarm coffee sitting neglected in his own cup feels like a lead weight in his gut. Your arms are wrapped protectively around yourself, hunched against some unseen foe. Head bowed, you refuse to meet his gaze as you slowly make your way back over to where he stands rooted to the spot in stunned silence.

It’s only as you draw up beside him that Max notices the twin tear tracks striping your cheeks. Your chin remains stubbornly trembling, but you make no move to wipe at the tears now falling freely. Max’s chest constricts almost painfully at the sight of your misery, the guilt gnawing at him as the reality sets in.

He is the reason for it. His harsh, uncompromising tongue has wounded you in one of the cruelest ways once again. Too strict, too unyielding, too incapable of allowing even the smallest indulgences that bring you simple joy without sneering dismissal.

For several agonizing moments, the two of you stand in silence amid the milling crowds of travelers streaming past. Max can’t bring himself to meet your gaze, knowing he’ll only find the depths of his own callous thoughtlessness reflected back at him in your swimming eyes.

Finally, you release a shuddering sigh that sounds far too weighted for someone of your sweetness and light. When you speak, your voice is little more than a tremulous murmur laced with dejection.

“Let’s just go to the gate, Max.”

You brush past him without another word, leaving him to trail numbly in your wake as shame burns a hole through his gut. He watches as your form disappears into the throngs, shoulders already beginning to hunch inward as that spark of happiness in you gutters and fades.

Lingering behind, Max’s gaze falls to the empty cup lying crumpled and discarded in the trash. A reminder of yet another instance where his unchecked tongue and inability to empathize has spoiled an innocent attempt at simple pleasure.

His coffee suddenly tastes like ash on his tongue.

As he moves to dump the neglected drink into the nearby basin, Max wonders with a sinking feeling just how many more times he’ll be able to snuff out your light before it dwindles to nothing.

***

The late morning sun bears down with oppressive force, causing a mirage-like haze to shimmer over the sweltering asphalt of the paddock. Despite being early summer, the Spanish air is already thick and heavy enough to bathe Max’s skin in a sheen of perspiration as he trudges toward the Red Bull Energy Station.

Ahead, he spots a cluster of people milling aimlessly near the entrance to the Mercedes motorhome. At the center appears to be you, head tilted back in unrestrained laughter at something George Russell is regaling you with. The British driver is equally animated, pale features scrunched up in exaggerated motions as he relays what is no doubt an amusing tale.

Max feels his steps gradually slow of their own accord as he takes you in from a distance. You seem utterly at ease and in your element — cheeky grin splitting your face, one hand toying idly with the ends of your hair as your eyes crinkle with unbridled mirth.

A pure vision of effortless contentment.

His gut clenches unexpectedly, unbidden memories of how he methodically chipped away at that very lightness in you until it was all but extinguished washing over him in a nauseating wave. How quickly he took such simple joys for granted ...

So transfixed is he by the sight of your open, honest amusement that Max barely notices the figure slipping up behind you. Not until Toto Wolff raises a conspiratorial finger to his lips, eyes twinkling impishly as he pantomimes for silence at a sputtering George.

You remain oblivious even as the Mercedes team principal slides flush against your back, looping one arm around your waist to tug you snug against his chest. With his free hand, Toto cups it teasingly over your eyes — to which you release a tinkling peal of laughter.

“Guess who?” The playful lilt of the older man’s Austrian lilt is unmistakable, dripping with honeyed warmth.

“Hmm … I wonder,” you murmur coyly, making a show of tapping your chin in feigned confusion. “Is it a dashing gentleman caller here to sweep me off my feet?”

Toto chuckles deeply in your ear, the sound positively dripping with unguarded affection. “Only if you’ll have me, liebling.”

Craning your head back with a cheeky grin, your arms instinctively wind around his neck as you stretch up on your tiptoes to greet him properly. Toto meets your lips in a lingering, languid kiss that has George hastily clearing his throat and looking resolutely anywhere but at the affectionate display before him.

When you finally part, all radiant smiles and flushed cheeks, it’s like the rest of the world has completely fallen away. Toto gazes down at you with such pure adoration that Max feels his throat constrict as though a belt is suddenly cinched tight around it.

“I have a surprise for you, schnucki,” Toto murmurs huskily, lips brushing your temple as he speaks.

You light up like a kid on Christmas morning, practically vibrating with excitement at his words. “Oh? Do tell!”

With a wink and roguish smile, Toto brandishes his other hand from behind his back — in it, clutched protectively, is a large cup topped with whipped cream and what looks like edible flower petals sprinkled over the top. The light purple hue of the iced contents catches in the bright sun, refracting a prism of soft, delicate colors.

“I had the barista in our hospitality whip this up for you,” Toto explains fondly. “After I mentioned how much you enjoy trying unique coffee flavors. It’s a lavender vanilla iced latte.”

Your mouth drops open in a perfect ‘o’ of delight as you instinctively make grabby motions toward the tantalizing beverage. Max recognizes that earnest enthusiasm all too well. It’s the same look you used to get whenever presented with any unique taste or experience to appreciate.

A look he always met with disdain and scorn.

Toto doesn’t hesitate for a second before depositing the cup into your greedy hands. You immediately cradle it reverently, as though it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held. Ducking your head, you take a long pull through the striped paper straw.

The expression that blossoms across your features as that first taste bursts over your tongue is one of pure, unadulterated bliss. Your eyes flutter closed on a muffled moan of sinful enjoyment, lips pursing as though savoring each individual note of flavor. Max hasn’t seen you look that unguardedly delighted by anything in … well, he can’t actually recall the last time.

“Oh Toto, this is heavenly!” You gush, swiping your tongue across your lower lip to catch a stray drop of condensation. “The lavender is subtle, but gives it such a uniquely fresh and floral twist. And the vanilla adds this creamy sweetness that keeps it from being overwhelming.”

You open your eyes to beam radiantly up at the older man, who returns your luminous smile with equal warmth. “It’s perfect, thank you! You have to try it.”

Without prompting, you eagerly offer the cup up to Toto. He accepts it with an indulgent chuckle, locking eyes with you as he takes a contemplative sip — no doubt eager to share in whatever fleeting moment of bliss the simple drink has brought you.

Unlike Max, who would have turned up his nose and likely received it with derision, Toto seems to savor the complex blend of flavors. Humming thoughtfully, he swipes his tongue across his upper lip as though committing each separate note to memory.

“You’re quite right, liebling,” he agrees readily, “this is delightful. So refreshing for this heat. I may have to acquire a taste for these iced coffees myself.”

You positively glow at his assessment, lighting up from within like a joyful little sun. Max is helpless before the storm of emotions suddenly ripping through him at the sight.

“Oh! That reminds me,” you chirp giddily, bouncing on the balls of your feet, “I was talking to the barista about maybe incorporating some other floral syrups for iced coffees too. Like rose or hibiscus! And maybe we could get her to try making those fun layered drinks with the espresso on the bottom-”

Toto’s deep belly laugh cuts off your stream of eager rambling. Without warning, he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush against him once more. You let out a startled giggle as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, lips brushing the feverish pulse point just beneath your jaw.

“You adorable thing,” he rumbles warmly, words slightly muffled against your skin as he presses a languid line of kisses along the sharp line of your jaw. “So enthusiastic about the simplest pleasures in life ...”

Pulling back, Toto lifts one hand to tenderly cradle the side of your face. You automatically nuzzle into his palm with a look of such smitten devotion that it makes Max’s heart stutter behind his ribcage. When Toto leans in to seal his lips over yours once more, the kiss is deep and thoroughly unhurried — as though the two of you have all the time in the world to savor this intimate little moment.

Max’s hands clench into white-knuckled fists, blunt nails biting crescent moons into his clammy palms. He should turn away, leave you to your blissful display with someone who so clearly appreciates you. Yet he remains rooted in place, unable to tear his eyes from the scene unfolding before him.

It’s like witnessing an alternate universe version of your shared lives play out in vivid, scorching detail.

In this reality, Toto is the one tenderly stroking the pad of his thumb over the elegant arch of your cheekbone as the two of you part, drinking in the sight of your passion-addled features hungrily. He is the one basking in the radiance of your bright and unrestrained joy. Celebrating each of your simple thrills, from the most frivolous of flavored coffees to the sensual graze of skin on skin.

And where does that leave Max? An outsider peering in at paradise with his face smeared against the glass, watching the warmth and affection he could never fully embrace slowly slip through his calloused fingers.

And my bed at three

The mattress shifts, the subtle movement rousing Max from his slumber. He cracks one eye open to find the space next to him empty, the sheets disheveled where you had lain.

A glance at the digital clock on the nightstand tells him it’s not yet 5 am. Where are you going at this hour?

He hears faint rustling from the living area of the hotel suite, followed by the soft click of the door. Groaning, he kicks off the covers and pads out of the bedroom, the plush carpet warm beneath his bare feet.

You’re sitting on the couch, slipping into a pair of flats. “What are you doing up so early?” He asks, his voice still husky from sleep.

You look up, startled. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” A soft smile plays on your lips. “I was going to watch the sunrise.”

Max rakes a hand through his tousled hair. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because it’s beautiful.” Your eyes sparkle with an excitement he can’t comprehend this early in the morning. “The colors, the way the light slowly creeps over the horizon — it’s just magical.”

He snorts. “It happens every day. Nothing magical about it.”

Your face falls ever so slightly, and it tugs at something in his chest. But the feeling is fleeting, replaced by annoyance at having his sleep disturbed for something so trivial. “So you didn’t want to join me, then?” You ask, almost timidly.

“And wake up before the ass-crack of dawn? No thanks.” He flops onto the couch beside you with a huff. “I was up until 3 am sim racing. Not all of us find staring at the sky such riveting entertainment.”

You say nothing, simply nodding as you avert your gaze. The light in your eyes has dimmed, and he feels a pang of guilt. But he shakes it off — it’s far too early for this kind of whimsical nonsense.

“Suit yourself,” he mutters. “I’m going back to bed.”

He doesn’t see the way your shoulders droop as he turns and trudges back towards the bedroom. Doesn’t see the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes before you blink them away and readjust the set of your jaw with determination.

Max burrows under the covers, fully intent on drifting back into oblivion. But sleep evades him, his mind buzzing with a peculiar restlessness. He punches his pillow into a more suitable shape, flips it over to the cool side, but still he lies awake, listening to the silence that fills the suite.

After what feels like an eternity, curiosity gets the better of him. He kicks off the covers once more and pads over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city street below. Sure enough, there you are, a tiny figure perched on a bench across the way, your face tipped up towards the slowly lightening sky.

Max leans his forehead against the cool glass, watching as the inky blackness of night gives way to soft shades of periwinkle and lilac. Slowly, the colors deepen into blazing pinks and vibrant oranges that streak across the heavens. The sky ignites in a brilliant blaze of crimson and gold, the clouds set afire by the rising sun.

And there you sit, bathed in the dawn’s ethereal glow, utterly transfixed. In this light, your features seem softer, more at peace than he’s seen you in a long while. A smile plays on your lips, genuine and unguarded, as you take in the spectacle unfolding before you.

Max finds himself holding his breath, as if the slightest movement might shatter the magic of this moment. He’s never seen you look more beautiful, more alive than in these fleeting minutes as day breaks over the city.

A rare pang of tenderness blooms in his chest, quickly overshadowed by a creeping sense of unease. He isn’t certain how much time has passed before the brilliant hues fade into the pale blue of morning, but eventually you rise from the bench, taking one last, lingering look at the sky before turning and disappearing from view.

Max exhales slowly, his breath fogging up the glass. He isn’t proud of how he dismissed your simple joy, that spark of wonderment at the little things that he so often takes for granted.

An emptiness settles in the pit of his stomach, the guilt heavier than before. How many other moments has he trampled on in his relentless pursuit of success?

He thinks of your radiant smile, how it lit up the pre-dawn gloom more vibrantly than the sunrise itself. With a sigh, Max turns away from the window, already dreading the apology he knows he owes you.

Because in that single, breathtaking moment, he realizes just how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life. Someone who can find magic in the mundane, beauty in the simple things he’s become blind to along the way.

Someone, Max fears, who may be too sweet for him.

***

Max gives up on sleep around 4:30 am, as he has for the past several weeks. Insomnia has become his constant, unwanted companion, leaving him tossing and turning until the first hints of dawn creep through the curtains. On nights like this, slumber remains persistently out of reach no matter how exhausted he feels.

He lies in bed, staring at the ceiling as the brightening sky slowly illuminates the room. It wasn’t always this way — he used to be able to sleep like the dead after a race weekend, knocked out by the physical and mental exertion. But lately, his mind refuses to shut off, thoughts swirling endlessly until his head pounds.

With a groan, Max kicks off the tangled sheets and drags himself out of bed. Maybe going for a run will quiet the racket in his brain, at least for a little while. He dresses quickly, lacing up his trainers and grabbing his earbuds before heading out into the semi-darkness.

The pre-dawn streets are blissfully empty as he starts off at an easy jog. He despises becoming one of those obnoxious morning people, but exhaustion has a way of stripping away one’s self-respect. If pounding the pavement before the rest of the world awakes is what it takes to catch a few hours of sleep, so be it.

His route takes him along the harbor, the gentle lapping of the waves against the seawall providing a soothing soundtrack. The first rays of sunlight glint off the glassy surface, and he finds himself averting his gaze, oddly resentful of the impending sunrise.

It wasn’t so long ago that he scoffed at your eagerness to greet each new day. But ever since you’ve been gone from his life, those brilliant, fleeting moments of beauty have begun to mock him at every turn.

He picks up his pace, as if he can outrun the rising sun and the flood of memories it brings. But there’s no escaping the vivid flashes of you, smiling radiantly as the world awakes in a blaze of fiery hues. Or the hollow ache that twinges somewhere beneath his rib cage whenever he’s reminded of just how little he appreciated you.

So lost is he in his circling thoughts that he nearly runs right into you, appearing abruptly on the path ahead. His trainers skid against the pavement as he grinds to a halt, his heart stammering in his chest.

“Max?” You blink up at him, clearly startled by his sudden presence.

He opens his mouth, an automatic apology rising to his lips — until his eyes zero in on the camera clutched in your hands. Of course. Still chasing sunrises after all these years.

A wry grin tugs at the corner of your mouth as you take in his rumpled running attire. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Max says nothing, his gaze flickering briefly towards the brightening horizon before fixing on you once more. You look … well, radiant as ever, lit by the soft morning glow. A small pang of something — longing, maybe — twists in his gut.

“Out enjoying another sunrise, I see,” he says at last, nodding towards the camera.

You glance down at it fondly. “Well, you know how it is. I have to capture them while I can.” A teasing lilt edges into your voice. “Not all of us are night owls.”

He huffs out a humorless laugh. “I’ll never understand what’s so fascinating about watching the same thing happen day after day.”

“But that’s just it — each one is different. Unique and fleeting and … breathtaking.” Your eyes spark with that gentle wonderment he remembers so well, the sight sending a tremor through his chest. “Like getting a front row seat to the greatest show on Earth, but it’s one you’ll never see again.”

You trail off with a small shake of your head, seemingly at a loss to put the feeling into words. Max doesn’t need the explanation — he’s seen that look of childlike awe on your face more times than he can count.

An awkward silence stretches between you, laden with the weight of history and unspoken apologies. You shift your stance, mouth opening as if to say something more.

But Max cuts you off before you can get the words out, unable to bear whatever sentiments might cross those sweet lips of yours. “Toto not joining you this time?” He asks gruffly.

Your expression softens into a fond smile, and it’s like a physical blow to Max’s sternum. He knows that look, has been on the receiving end of it more times than he cares to remember. The way your entire being seems to brighten when you so much as think about someone you love.

“Ah, you know Toto — he’s more of a sunset person,” you say with a light laugh. “I’ve never been able to drag his grumpy butt out of bed for a sunrise.”

Even as his insides curdle with jealousy, Max can’t help the quirk of his lips at the mental image. He could all too easily picture Toto swatting irritably at you, burrowing deeper under the covers to escape the blasted sun.

“But we make it work,” you continue, that loving glow refusing to dim from your eyes. “I take photos of the sunrise to share with him later. And he does the same with the sunsets for me. That way, we both get to experience it in a way.”

The gentle sound of your voice washes over Max like a salve, momentarily easing the tangled knot of regret and longing that’s taken up permanent residence inside him. He watches, transfixed, as the early morning light bathes you in ethereal radiance.

In that moment, he sees it so clearly — the depth of give and take in your relationship with Toto. The effort, large and small, that you both put into nurturing one another’s happiness.

Even when your desires don’t perfectly align. Even when compromise is required.

It’s such a simple gesture, capturing those magical moments to share with your loved one. But it’s one Max was never willing to make when you were with him.

A lump forms in his throat as realization washes over him with unforgiving clarity. You weren’t too sweet for him, as he had so arrogantly assumed time and again. No — the truth, much harder to swallow, is that he was simply too sour for you.

Too selfish, too wrapped up in his own ambitions to make even the smallest concession. Too blind to recognize the magic in the simple things that brought you unbridled joy. Too bitter and jaded to embrace and nurture the beautiful nature that made you … well, you.

And now, after all his careless cruelties and wasted chances, he can only stand idly by and watch as someone else basks in the sweetness of your affection. As someone else goes out of their way, day after day, to put that blinding smile on your face and those stars in your eyes.

Something in Max’s chest cracks and crumbles at the injustice of it all. At the agonizing truth that he let the best thing in his life slip through his fingers, all because he couldn’t be bothered to change his sullen ways.

Because you were never too sweet for him … he was too sour for you.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #toto wolff #max verstappen #toto wolff imagine #max verstappen imagine #toto wolff x reader #max verstappen x reader #toto wolff fic #max verstappen fic #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #toto wolff blurb #max verstappen blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #hozier

[togrowoldinv]

Memory

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You feel like you’ve met her before, but you just can’t remember when or how. It turns out there’s a lot you don’t remember

Note: Hey y’all. I have been swamped these last couple of weeks studying for and taking a part of the cpa exam, but I finally had a free moment to have some fun. I went and saw Argylle, so this is loosely inspired by that. Enjoy it!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

The room is silent aside from the clicks of a keyboard as Natasha tries to break through a firewall. She’s smart, but the person who created it is slightly smarter than her.

The redhead smirks when she is one step from breaking through, but her cheekiness doesn’t last. An alarm sounds and she’s met with at least ten agents swarming all around her.

“Oh hey, guess you guys found the party,” she says in her usual cool under pressure tone.

She uses the agents’ hesitation to begin attacking them to deal the first blows. She takes them down two at a time until there’s only one left. She knows who he is.

“Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?” Natasha asks.

“You know what I want,” he says.

“And you know what I want,” Nat replies.

The two of them keep their guns in ready position. Nat alerted for backup, but she knows most likely she’ll have to handle this on her own.

“Where is the woman?” The man asks. He shakes his gun at Nat. She sees a weakness in the way he’s holding it. He won’t last.

“If you give me the intel, I’ll give you her location,” Nat says.

“You’re lying!”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m telling you the truth. They’re never really that different, right?”

“Drop your weapon,” he tries another tactic.

Natasha just smirks. She moves her left arm down and the man mistakenly thinks she’s giving in. The moment he shifts his aim Nat takes a shot at him. It’s an easy shot for her.

He goes down and Nat finishes gathering her data from the computer before she quickly gets out of the building. That backup she was waiting for finally arrives as she’s making her way outside.

“Thanks for the help,” she says sarcastically as Steve opens the door for her.

“Sorry,” he says. “We can’t be everywhere all the time. What were you even doing here?”

“Gathering intel,” Nat says simply. She shows him the flash drive and he just shakes his head. “The more I can find out the better I can help her, Steve. It’s an easy choice to make.”

“Nat, she’s so far gone,” he tries. “It might be worth stopping.”

“I’ll never give up on her. She’ll be herself again. I know it,” Natasha says. “Now, will you help me get this to Stark to decode?”

“Of course I’ll help you, Romanoff.”

She nods in thanks. For the rest of the drive, Natasha thinks about what her next step should be. There’s no easy fix to this situation. She needs to go where her mind works best.

Meanwhile, you are working on cleaning tables when the most beautiful woman walks in. You’ve seen her in here several times since you started working here.

She always sits at the table in the corner and orders coffee and a piece of chocolate pie. It’s always the same thing. You’ve never waited on her before, but somehow the stars align today and you’re covering that section.

You walk to her table and take a deep breath. She’s even more beautiful from this close up.

“Hey, how are you today?” You ask her.

“I’m okay,” she replies. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” you say. It’s your typical response when a customer asks you that question. “What can I get for you, ma’am?”

She orders her usual. You feel her eyes linger on you as you pour the coffee and bring her slice of pie to the table.

Something feels familiar about the way she smiles at you in thanks.

“Do I know you?” You ask her. She doesn’t reply, but you notice she looks away from you. “Sorry, it’s just that I had some memory loss so I’m just not quite sure who I know at this point.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry,” she says. “I don’t think we know each other though, no.”

“You seem familiar,” you tell her.

“Well, I am an Avenger so maybe that’s it,” she says. “I’m Natasha.”

“Right. The superheroes. It’s nice to meet you, Natasha,” you say. “I’m y/n.”

You hold out your hand for her to shake. When she does, you swear there’s still a lingering feeling that you know her. Maybe you’ve just seen her on television.

“I better get back to work,” you say.

“Nice to meet you, y/n,” Natasha says.

She stands from her chair and drops cash on the table. Walking towards the door, she stops short and turns back to look at you. You offer her a smile that she returns.

With that, she disappears into the city. The rest of the day goes by seemingly without any other excitement. You can’t stop thinking about your interaction with the woman, which is why you thought you were dreaming when she shows up at your door.

You blink hard to try and wake up, but the reality is that she’s truly here.

“Natasha?” You ask confusedly.

“I don’t have time to explain,” she says. “Can I come in?”

“I- what? Okay?”

She takes that as a yes. She walks inside and goes straight to the corner of the room where she picks up a piece of the floor to reveal a secret storage area.

Natasha fills her bag with the weapons that were stored under the floor.

“What is happening?” You ask her.

“Just trust me,” Nat says.

“I just met you today and you somehow know about this secret area of my house I didn’t even know about. And I’m supposed to trust you?”

“Yes,” Natasha replies. “Come on. Get some shoes on. We have two minutes.”

“Two minutes before what?”

She doesn’t get the chance to answer before a loud bang comes from outside. A series of car doors close simultaneously.

“Look, I know you don’t know me but you have to trust me. These guys are after you and if we don’t bail in the next thirty seconds we’re dead. Got it?” Natasha says.

“What?” You ask. It seems to be the only word in your vocabulary right now.

She grabs your hand and pulls you through your house. Once you’re outside, you go through the fence to the neighbors yard.

“Here,” Nat says, pulling you to a motorcycle that’s waiting there.

“I am not riding on that,” you say.

“Then you’ll be dead within minutes. Come on, y/n,” Nat says. She puts the helmet on your head involuntarily.

You have no choice but to listen to her. Hopping onto the bike, you hold on tight to her middle as she drives through the streets. At some point, a van is tailing the two of you. Natasha turns down every alleyway and street she can to get you away from the tail.

“When I say jump, you’ve got to jump!” Nat says over the roar of the engine.

“What?”

You’re quickly approaching a road that you can see has no end. She drives full speed ahead before letting go of the handlebars.

“Jump!” Nat shouts.

You cling onto her as you both jump. You have no idea how far the drop is but somehow you land in water. Natasha pulls you to the surface quickly.

You get to shore and try to gather yourself some. You’re so confused about all of this.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Am I okay?” You ask her. “Seriously, you’re asking me that? I don’t know who you are or what’s happening. We just got chased by a van through town and jumped off a motorcycle into a fucking lake. Do you think I’m okay?”

The woman has the audacity to smile at your words.

“I’m sorry, do you think this is funny?” You ask her, feeling fury seethe inside you.

“No,” Natasha says too quickly. “No, it’s just- nevermind. We have to get to the Avenger’s compound.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you tell her matter of factly.

“Y/n-“

“Don’t!” You interrupt her. “Just leave me alone.”

Nat raises her hands in surrender and watches as you walk away. She lets you get ten steps ahead before she follows after you.

“I told you to let me be.”

“You’re up there all alone. I just happen to be walking in the same direction,” Natasha reasons. “Although, the compound is the other way.”

Despite the fact that you were just doing insanely dangerous tasks with her, you feel a certain safety in her presence.

“Why should I go with you?” You pose a question.

You notice her hesitation in answering. Like she wants to tell you something but she just can’t.

“If you just come with me, I’ll explain everything there. Okay? Please give me a chance,” Nat says. “I won’t be responsible for them finding you and finishing the job.”

“What job? I’m just a waitress. Who could I possibly have wronged?”

“I promise I’ll explain later,” Nat says. “Please follow me.”

You relent and follow her. There’s no reason for you to trust her but somehow you do. It doesn’t take long to get to the compound once Nat hot wires a car.

“Y/n?” A girl asks when you are inside. You look at her despondently and she frowns. Natasha gives he’s her a look.

You follow Natasha to what seems to be a laboratory. There’s a large screen on the wall.

“Ah welcome,” a man says. You recognize him as Iron Man. “You’re just in time.”

“For?” You ask.

“The truth,” another man answers. You’re pretty sure he’s Captain America.

Before you can speak again, photos of you litter the screen. There are some of just you and some of you and the other Avengers.

“What the hell?” You wonder aloud.

“Y/n, we wanted you to remember on your own but it’s taking too long,” Tony Stark explains. “Natasha tried to jog your memory just by being in your presence, but that didn’t work.”

“So I do know you?” You ask the woman.

“You know all of us, y/n. You’re an Avenger.”

“But I’m- no. I’m a waitress,” you say. Your head feels like it’s spinning.

“That’s what they made you think, but you’re not. You’re a special agent,” Steve says. “And one of the best.”

“I don’t believe you. This is all a joke, right?”

“It’s not a joke, y/n. Why do you think we knew those people were after you? Or that I knew about the floor in your house?” Natasha asks.

“That’s easy. You’ve been spying on me.”

“No,” she says simply.

“Then how?” No response. “This is just insane. I’m leaving.”

You start to walk away. You hear Natasha’s footsteps behind you.

“Natasha,” a warning voice comes from Tony. “Don’t.”

“You know what, you go ahead. Take a car of ours, y/n,” she says.

She holds up a pair of keys. You reach for them, but instead of giving them to you she throws a punch your way.

You surprisingly dodge it with ease. Natasha smirks at the way you look at your arms in confusion.

“How did I do that?”

“Come on, throw one,” she taunts you.

You do your best to punch her, but of course she dodges it. You spar back and forth until you’ve both had enough.

“Great, now that that’s over. Do you believe us?” Tony asks.

“I’m not sure,” you say. “How could I not know I’m an agent?”

“Brainwashing,” Natasha answers. “Very effective brainwashing.”

“But why?”

“Because you were going to uncover a huge invasion of Hydra in the government,” Steve explains. “We still can’t find the data that you had before they took it from you and erased all of your memories.”

“So the memory loss, that was a real feeling I was having?”

“It was,” Nat says. “The reason why wasn’t a car accident as they told you though. They captured you and essentially knocked you senseless.”

You rub your hands over your face as you try to take all of this in. Just a few hours ago you thought you knew who you were, but they’re telling you something completely different.

“We wanted you to remember on your own, so it might not be so overwhelming,” Nat says.

“So, we’re all what? Coworkers? Friends? I don’t remember any of you, or anything you’re describing,” you say.

“We’re friends,” Steve says. “You’re friends with all of us and with Nat-“

“Steve,” Nat interrupts. “She doesn’t need to hear that right now.”

“I don’t need to hear what?”

There are shouts down the hallway that interrupt your conversation. Tony suits up and Steve grabs his shield.

“Get her to safety,” he tells Nat.

She grabs your hand and takes you down the hallway to a door and down a ton of stairs. Nat locks a door behind her once you’ve reached the lowest level.

“They’ll handle them,” Nat says. “But the further you are from the fight the better.”

“What was Steve going to say?”

“Hm?”

“About you and me,” you prompt her.

Natasha tears her eyes from yours much the same way she did when you questioned if you knew her earlier.

“Natasha, please just tell me. Clearly, everything I thought I knew was a lie. What’s one more thing?”

“Okay,” she agrees. “We were- you and I were together.”

“Together?”

She nods.

“Define together. Like dating?”

“Kind of yeah,” she says. You look at her for more details. The silence prompts her to continue. “We were married. We are technically married.”

“Oh,” you say.

“Yeah. I didn’t think you were ready to learn that,” Nat says.

“So that’s why you knew your way around my place?”

“Our place,” she says. “But they moved all of my stuff out before you went back there.”

“Natasha, I don’t- I can’t remember anything,” you say.

“I know,” Nat says sadly. “We kept our distance once we realized what they did to you, but we’ve never stopped making sure you were safe.”

You hear the sound of the fight getting closer. Natasha reaches for your hand. She places a loaded gun in your palm.

“I want to remember.”

“You will,” Nat says. “But right now, you’ve got to fight.”

To be continued…

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort

[foldingfittedsheets]

In the bloom of my youth I found myself on an evening with my best friend in the park. We were young and it was a beautiful warm summer night to be out. At sixteen in a small rural town our options for entertainment were limited but it had been a good day.

Park is a somewhat generous term for the locale, what it amounted to was a cleared space with some planters and bushes, a tiny podium, and a square of trees round the perimeter. We had been hanging about with our friend who needed to leave, and waiting to be picked up ourselves, carless plebeians that we were.

So there we were, two teen girls in the park alone as the last of the light faded. Neither of us had cellphones, and my nana was collecting us right from the park as we’d agreed earlier. We were in no hurry, knowing she’d arrive when she arrived.

Until my friend said, “What was that?”

I looked up to where she was pointing but I didn’t see anything. “What?” I asked.

“I think it was… someone streaking?”

It was absurd to think. Our little town, tiny and rural as it was, with a streaker. But I loved my friend, so instead of laughing I said, “Let’s go see.”

I’m not sure what I thought it was, but I was confident she’d be less nervous if we investigated and found a plastic bag or a jogger in white. And I’ll admit I was curious at this anomaly. We made our way across the park to where she’d pointed.

That’s when I saw it too. A flash of pale skin under the streetlights, moving too quickly through the shadows and shrubs to see clearly. My friend clung to my arm, shrinking in on herself and I felt the first twitch of fear. Investigating no longer seemed like the thing to do.

I was determined to protect her from whatever was lurking, so I changed course and started cutting away from the movement, heading for the small shopping center not too far outside the park.

Our progress was suddenly arrested as the mysterious figure launched into our path. A man crouched on the pavement before us, fully nude except for a loincloth. His hair was in white people dreads. It was in every way like Tarzan had stepped out of the animated movie into real life.

My friends fingers were digging painfully into my arm and we stood stock still, staring at this bizarre apparition. He was still a good fifteen feet away from us. He stared back, making soft simian “ooh ooh” sounds.

I was struggling to process that a man in a loin cloth was right there when he started to move toward us. It was in his monkey half crouch, a few shambling steps, slow, with his eyes fixed on us.

“Leave us alone!” I declared.

He stopped, tilting his head this way and that. Then shifted like he would take another step.

I was fully afraid now, but I was also furious that he was menacing us and scaring my friend. I dropped her arm, marching forward with wrath in my eyes and said, “Get out of here before we call the cops!”

At my approach he turned and bolted back into the bushes. I whipped around and zipped back toward my friend, grabbing her arm and power walking us out of there. We arrived at the nearest business and darted inside, conveying what had just happened in garbled snippets.

The workers were outraged to hear our story. They let me call my nana to tell her where we were, then asked if we’d like to call the police. I shook my head. I emphatically did not want to deal with the police.

In the safety of the store my fear had started to feel ridiculous. It was probably just some bored prankster.

As we waited for my nana my friend quietly admitted she would rather liked to have called the cops. I apologized for not asking. We lapsed into silence. She said, “I can’t believe you went toward him.”

I couldn’t either. I didn’t remember planning on it, only I wanted to be between him and my friend. “Do you think he was crazy or was it just a prank?”

She shook her head. She didn’t know either. All these years later I still don’t really know what happened that night. If he was on a dare, or cosplaying Tarzan for fun, or if he was unwell. A lot of the details have hazed over with time but the utter dissonance of seeing a man in a loin cloth pop out of the bushes is seared into me.

I also remember back then, in a whisper both scandalized and fascinated, my friend admitting, “I saw his penis.”

#ramblies #ffs foibles #Tarzan #streaker #writing #story #true story #one of the weirder experiences I’ve had

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 24 - Sex Toy(s)

Ghost x Reader - 1.5k (on ao3)

summary: Ghost is focused solely on your pleasure when he comes home. (Reader POV)

cw: overstimulation

note: this is basically just a ghost version of my soap x reader from day 2, so if you like this consider checking that out!

Ghost is always greedy when he first comes home from deployment.

You can’t help but feel a bit bad about how… you-centered the sex always is, but it’s hard to complain when he holds you down by the thighs and feasts on your cunt for hours on end. Seriously - you’d thought you might die of dehydration the first time you passed out and woke up to him still buried between your legs. He’s a demon.

Simon’s not a particularly open man, and you haven’t been together long enough to justify pushing for more from him, but as best you can gather (or assume), he goes from laser-focused on whatever missions they’ve got him doing to laser-focused on you.

All that militaristic focus, all the desire to serve, focused right on you. Sometimes it feels like you might drown beneath the pure force of him, but he drags you back up.

You’re having fun with whatever this thing between you and Simon is. At some point you know you’ll have to either cut it off or push for more, but for now you’re content to see him for just a few days every few months. 

And, well… it’s easy to let yourself get dragged into him when he is home.

You never gave him a key, but somehow you’re unsurprised when you come home from work one day to see him relaxed on the couch, mask already pulled up to his nose.

You’re even less surprised when you’re pinned to the wall hardly a heartbeat later.

You certainly don’t mind - Simon’s a fucking fantastic kisser, all nipping bites and harsh sucks, pressing his whole weight into your face while he holds your body flush with his. The two of you stumble against each other as you make your way to the bedroom, falling into the walls.

You jerk away from him at the sound of a picture falling, just managing to glance over your own shoulder. “Simon!” You scold, slapping his shoulder when he lifts you up the wall and glues himself to your neck.

“I’ll… fix… it…” he promises between bites, sucking hickies across the column of your throat. You’d like to snap something back at him, but he manages to find every spot that makes you melt. It’s impossible to complain, so you decide you’ll get him back later and wrap your legs around his waist.

“You better,” you still manage, ducking low until you can find his lips and drag his attention back to your mouth.

The next minutes flash by as he carries you to the bedroom, slowly stripping each of you of your clothes. You find yourself dropped onto the bed in only your granny panties, Simon nearly tripping over himself as he tries to kick his jeans off.

You can’t help but giggle at the sight of this big strong military man falling over himself to get to you. “Need some help there?”

He glares as he finally gets his pants off and crawls over you, but the little spark in his eyes dulls the anger. “Just lay there all pretty, don’t need you to do anything here.”

You snort at that, situating yourself comfortably against your pillows. “Did you miss me, or just my body?” You smile at him to show you’re not angry, that you don’t mind that this is the extent of your relationship for now.

He holds himself above you with a hand on your thighs, presses an uncharacteristically soft kiss to your lips. You’re nearly positive you hear him whisper “Both,” before he pulls away, but you don’t get a chance to ask about it before he’s diving between your thighs.

Here’s the thing with Simon - he doesn’t eat you out to make you feel good, he does it because he likes it. Which means that he very rarely warms you up, instead just dives tongue first into your core and feasts.

You and your needs become secondary to his hunger for your body, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s easy to melt into the pillows, resting one hand on the back of his head for just a bit more contact as he forces your thighs to the mattress, holding you spread open for himself.

He moans nearly as loudly as you do when he first dips his tongue inside of your hole, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Missed this,” you pant, scratching lightly at his scalp.

He pulls away for half a second, shooting you a look that you can’t quite decipher. “Me, or my mouth?”

That shocks a sharp laugh out of you, and you catch the smile playing at his lips before he buries his face between your folds again.

“You’re…” you pant, shifting against his tongue when it flicks just right over your clit. “You’re a hell of a lot better than- than my vibrator. Less expensive than batteries, too.”

He lifts his head again - a bit shocking, since he usually ignores all of your sounds when he first comes home like this - and you can see an eyebrow cock beneath the mask. “You have a vibrator?”

You give him an unimpressed look. “I’m a grown woman, Simon. Of course I have a vibrator.”

He ignores the snark in your tone and pushes himself up to his knees. “Where?”

You wiggle underneath him, trying to draw his attention back to your dripping center. “Why does it matter? You’re here now, so c’mon-”

He lands a sharp blow on your inner thigh, making you yelp and then pout up at him.

“Faster you tell me, faster I get back to making you come.”

You sigh, knowing he’s not going to leave this alone. “Fine, it’s in the top drawer of my nightstand - you know, where everyone keeps their sex toys?”

He gives you another harsh tap as he leans over. “Less sass,” he rumbles, digging through the drawer.

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t like my sass.”

He doesn’t respond, which strikes you as slightly odd, but you brush it off when he settles back between your legs with your hitachi in hand.

You raise your eyebrows as he settles onto his stomach, shifting so he’s eye-level with your pussy. He spends a few long moments fiddling with the hitachi, flicking between different speeds and vibrations. He’s so focused on the toy that you can’t help but giggle.

“Having fun?”

He looks back up to you, a rare smile fully lifting lips. “Y’won’t be gigglin’ like that in a few minutes, love.”

You hum, shifting your knees a little higher to spread yourself further open. “Big words, Si. Sure you can live up to it?”

It’s both the wrong and right thing to say - wrong because his eyes narrow and you just know he’s going to destroy your pussy, and right for the same reason.

You let yourself go boneless when he laves his tongue up your center, letting yourself fully relax into the pleasure. Sometimes Simon will spend hours working you up just to refuse to let you come, but never when he’s first home. You doubt he’ll break his pattern now.

And he doesn’t. He gets you off once before he even uses the vibrator, two fingers inside of your hole stroking against your g-spot while his tongue flicks over your clit quickly, drawing you right into a shivery orgasm that has your nerves sparking.

He doesn’t let you come down before you hear the soft buzzing or the hitachi, and then the near painful buzzing right against your overworked clit.

You nearly shoot up the bed, mouth open and eyes wide at the shock of pleasure. It almost hurts so soon after your first orgasm, rush after rush of sensation sending you toppling over another peak before you’re even aware.

“Not gigglin now, hm?” You hear him say, but you’re too drained to bother snapping back past a little tug to his hair. He pushes his fingers into you more harshly at that, and you moan again.

You carry on like that for what could be hours, for all you know. He alternates between using his tongue to thrust into you and sucking your clit between his lips to give you a break from the wand.

You’re sure that he mutters a few things every time you reach that deliciously horrible climax, but the blood rushing through your head and the low sound of vibrations blocks his voice out. All you can really hear - all you can really feel is the pleasure, the way your thighs shake by your sides, the drool slipping past your lips, the slick spreading across your thighs.

It’s a special kind of torture. The wand doesn’t get tired like Simon’s jaw, it’s merciless against your most sensitive parts, and Simon has no qualms with holding you down and forcing you to take it all for him. It’s both horrible and heavenly, painful and euphoric.

At some point, the world goes dark. You let yourself slip into a half-asleep state, knowing that you’ll wake up in the same position, your favorite military man glued to your pussy.

#sorry this is late it Bored me #ghost cod #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #kinktober #kinktober day 24 #bo writes #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kinktober 2023 #ghost riley x reader

[samkerrworshipper]

hard times | awfc x reader

arsenal reader struggles with PTSD and new year’s eve is a particular struggle… but the arsenal girlies are there for her even if she doesn’t know she needs them

warnings: PTSD, anxiety, mentions of violence, mentions of guns, anxiety attacks, mentions of childhood trauma

You don’t even notice you’re shivering and tearing up under your duvet.

New Year's Eve for most people is a night of celebration, a night of partying, a night of celebrations. For you, not so much.

New year's eve ranks pretty high up on your least favourite days of the year.

Instead of being fun and full of celebrations it was a night of terror and fear.

That’s how you’d gotten under your duvet, the covers of your bed providing a very small shield from the outside world.

It wasn’t a good fix to stop the current downpour of sound around you, you’d tried it all, airpods, earplugs, music, none of it worked.

So you’d settled for clenching your palms down onto your ears, it wasn’t providing any reprieve from the noise cascading around you, but for whatever reason it felt necessary.

This wasn’t even the worst of it, you knew it was only so long until the fireworks started, and as soon as that happened it was almost a guarantee that you would be thrown into a whole different level of stress.

It had been this way since you were a kid, new years eve was a nuisance, a figment of your worst nightmares.

You wished you could go out and celebrate, that you could be normal and be happy.

But ever since your childhood, since it all happened, loud noises and bright flashing lights have always been a big struggle for you.

So, every year, you go through the same routine of hiding under your covers until it’s all over. Normally, the loud noises coming from London strike up a pretty serious anxiety attack, so you don’t bother with hurting your friends with your presence, knowing that all you will be is a burden for them on a night that is supposed to be fun.

It’s fine, you’re used to it, this year though it’s a little bit harder.

With your transfer to Arsenal in the previous January trade period you had quickly found a new family amongst the Gooners.

It was so hard for you to decline the invite to the celebrations for the evening, especially considering that almost every other holiday over the year had been spent with one or a couple of your teammates.

That was the hard part of being the only person left in your family, it was the reason for your stupid fear.

It all simmered down to one stupid night that wrecked your whole life.

Just as you had begun to become completely absorbed with the thoughts in the back of your mind, you were taken out of your trance by a quiet voice and the mattress you were sitting on flexing downwards.

“Hiya honey, you wanna come out for me?”

It’s Beth’s voice, sweet, kind, lovely Beth who definitely should not be in your apartment right now.

It makes you wonder if you are potentially dreaming, sometimes when you get really anxious delirium is a side effect.

“Beth?”

You reach down to pinch your thigh, hard, and it hurts, enough for you to be sure that you aren’t dreaming,

“Yeah hon, I’m right here.”

Her voice is enough for you to pull the covers over your head, the duvet falling into your criss crossed lap.

Beth is perched on the corner of your bed, a smile mixed with concern and care reflecting back towards you.

“What are you doing here?”

Your words are murmured, and spoken downwards towards your lap, because you can’t quite find it in you to look at your older teammate.

“It’s new years, silly, we couldn’t leave you out of the celebrations, the girls that are in town are in the kitchen.”

It’s said so nonchalantly, like this is some organised plan that has been set in stone for weeks, even though this is the first you’re hearing of it.

Suddenly, a firecracker or something goes off somewhere in the distance and your body is jolting on the bed, fresh tears accumulating in the corners of your eyes as your whole face pinches shut whilst the waves of memories wash over your body.

“I thought you guys said you were going to South Bank to do the fireworks and celebrations.”

South Bank isn’t far from your apartment, a couple of blocks south, unfortunately for you, most definitely close enough for the fireworks to be seen and heard.

“Who needs fireworks? We’d rather hang out here with you.”

It makes your jaw clench and your eyebrows furrow, they’ve cancelled their plans to come to your apartment and you aren’t completely sure why.

“Beth, why are you here?”

It’s blunt, but with everything happening and your body in survival mode you don’t have time to beat around the bush, especially with the ticking time bomb which is leading to midnight.

“Less told us that you really struggle with new years, so we’re here for you.”

You know that all of the girls on the team, whether they mention it or not, know about your past, about what happened when you were a child, what led to you moving in with Alessia when you were 14.

Unfortunately for you, she’s spending her break with her parents in New York, so your normal emotional support for nights like these was unable to make it here tonight.

Something doesn’t feel the same about having Beth, and whoever else she’d managed to congregate being here with you, especially when you were significantly vulnerable.

“Beth, I appreciate it, but I don’t want to worry you guys, head down to South Bank, just leave me be. Tonight’s pretty hard for me and I don’t feel like doing much.”

Beth scoots her body up closer to yours, close enough that she can lift her hand up and set it down on your thigh, it doesn’t go unnoticed the way you slightly flinch away from her, the jumpiness running rampant in your body due to the anxiety.

“We’re not going anywhere, we’ve got you, let us take care of you yeah, you don’t have to do anything, at all, just sit on the couch and relax.”

You want to fall directly into Beth, let her give you a big hug and never let go, but there is still a part of you trying to obtain your self dignity.

“Beth, you don’t understand, tonight's really hard for me, and I don’t want you guys to have to deal with it, it’s not exactly something I’m proud of.”

Beth’s hand moves from your thigh, upwards until it’s gently sitting on your jaw, angling your face upwards so you are looking at her.

“Let us be here for you, between myself, Vivi, Leah, Lia, Kim, Laura, Jen, Lotte I’m sure we can all figure out some way to make tonight a little bit easier for you. You don’t have to explain anything, you don’t have to talk about it, we’re just here to show you some love and help you however you need, celebrations be damned.”

It’s hard to refuse when Beth’s kind, concerned and caring eyes are reaching deep into your soul. Tonight is hard, for you it’s like walking up mount everest, and it’s not exactly like you want to break down in front of your teammates but Beth seems pretty persistent about the fact she isn’t leaving.

“After the break in, after my parents and brother were killed, any loud noises resembling guns make me have anxiety attacks, it’s why I don’t like new years.”

Beth just nods and smiles, accepting the information but deciding to let you do the explaining instead of asking questions.

“That’s understandable, anyone in your position would feel the same, I’m sure it must be pretty tough, especially considering that you are still young.”

You bit down on your tongue, nodding to Beth, it is really fucking hard, especially considering that you don’t have anyone to talk about it with, because how could anybody understand.

“It’s why I freaked out a few months ago when you guys were popping balloons after Leah’s birthday party, I can’t help it, it just sometimes comes over me and I can’t control it.”

Beth nods immediately, feeling the guilt roll into her stomach at the memory of her and Katie popping all of the balloons, Beth now recollecting how you left with Alessia almost as soon as it happened.

“Y’know after my mom died it took months for me to be able to go anywhere near a hospital, Viv had to drag me to the doctors for my yearly check up. It’s funny what grief does to us. You want to know what works best for me?”

Beth is trying to find common ground, praying that it’ll work and exceptionally glad when you give her a little nod with your chin.

“I try to distract myself, whether it’s getting Vivi to talk to me or playing a game or watching the telly, helps take my mind off things, how about we try that and see if it’ll work with you, yeah?”

The idea makes you feel a little bit funny, but you are brutally aware of the fact that Beth is trying really hard right now to help you and you really want to be good for her and show her that you can do that.

“Okay, but I need it to be quiet, please.”

Beth just smiles and nods, her layed back demeanour shining through as she stood up from the bed, extending her hand to you.

Your hand is shaking furiously, but you manage to extend it out towards her, letting her own hand steady your as she pulls you up off the bed and gently tugs you towards the door of your bedroom.

To your surprise, when you exit the room the kitchen and loungeroom of your apartment are fairly quiet.

Lia, Kim and Viv are busy in your kitchen, pouring and distributing drinks and plates of pizza. Leah, Laura and Lotte are seated on your couch, a board game of sorts set out on the table, Jen is also joined in on the game, except she’s sitting on the floor directly in front of the table.

Viv, Kim and Lia all send a big smile your way as you slowly enter the room, it’s a spectacle to you, watching the group happily enjoying themselves in your apartment on a night where they could be doing far more than just lazing around.

“Do you want to go sit down on the couch, I know for a fact Leah will be cheating, you could go keep an eye on her, or stay up here in the kitchen with us, it’s up to you.”

The couch sounded nice, and you were aware of the fact that your body was quite tired and worn down from all the stress of the night.

So you cautiously stepped over to the couch, as soon as Leah saw you walking towards her she opened her arms up big and wide for you.

You didn’t second guess it, practically throwing yourself into Leah comfy and warm embrace, her body acting as a cushion to you.

The joint pressure and warmth from the hug did wonders at lifting some of the pressure off of your chest.

“How ya feeling?”

Leah’s voice is soft, whispered directly in your ear so that nobody else hears it besides you.

“I’ve been better, but having you guys here is nice, you don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

Leah just smiled, taking a break from the monopoly game they were playing to look at you.

“It’s nothing, we’re here for you whenever you need us, just trying to make the night easier for you however we can.”

You nod gently, Leah’s arm wrapping around your torso to give you a big hug and essentially bond you to her side.

“The fireworks are the worst for me.”

Leah nods, her eyes are so understanding, there isn’t any form of humour or disgust in them, just pure interest.

“Just watch the game yeah, don’t think about the fireworks, I know it’s hard, but just try. We could put on a show for you, how about the new episode of Love Island?”

It’s a offer that you can’t decline, so Leah gets Jen to chuck her the remote, turning on the tv and flicking it directly onto your favourite show.

You relax into Leah, your body falling limp against her and using her as a pillow whilst you intently watch the tv.

It’s all going fine, or as fine as it can be until you can distantly hear a countdown coming from somewhere outside your apartment.

Almost immediately it sets off alarms inside your body, your legs and torso jolting up from the couch.

Just as you are about to rush off, most likely back under your covers or into your bathroom, Leah’s arms grab a tight hold of you, bringing you flush against her body. In a matter of seconds, Viv, Beth and Kim are all surrounding you, somehow sheltering you from the noise outside.

You feel like a feral dog, thrashing against Leah, trying to get away from her, from your teammates, from the world.

As soon as the noises hit your ears though, you stop moving, both of your palms crushing down against your ears to try and drown out the cracking and popping sounds booming from outside your window.

Leah holds you tight to her chest, even as you begin to sob and the panic begins to overtake your body, every time it happens you feel like you are going to die, like this time it’ll be the last and inevitably you know that your wrong, that unfortunately you will live to see out the next year, but it doesn’t make the whole process easy.

Suddenly your brain is crowded with thoughts, memories, sounds.

The sound of your front door being broken down, nobody hearing but yourself, giving you the opportunity to push yourself out of bed and into one of the cupboards in your wardrobe.

Then the sound of heavy feet, doors creaking, and heavy, thunderous, cacophonous gun shots.

No matter how many times you relive it, no matter how many years go by that sound will never disappear from your mind, it’s unforgettable and haunts every single one of your nightmares.

It’s all consuming, until somebody is taking a hold of your face, and staring at you directly in your eyes.

“Y/n, listen to me, you’re safe, we’re all here for you, we’re in your apartment, safe inside, nobody is here to hurt you or anybody else, you’re at home and it’s safe here.”

Kim’s captain's voice is both soothing and terrifying, the Scottish players' words are strong and coated in directness.

Once she notices that you are hearing her she continues.

“We’re here for you, we’re safe, breathe for me honey, deep breaths, you’re here, not out there, don’t worry about any of that, just look at me and breathe.”

You nod at Kim, even as the tears are streaming down your face and you are struggling to breathe, you listen to her.

“Good job, keep breathing, remember where you are, we’re all safe in here with you, nothing or nobody is going to hurt you, I swear.”

Kim’s words do wonders to help you, and with her assistance, as well as Leah’s strong hold, Laura’s hands gently massaging your scalp, Viv’s strong fingers drawing patterns all over your arms, Lotte gently rubbing the tensed up parts of your calves, Beth holding the parts of you Leah can’t and Lia and Jen both flanking kim, looking at you with the same care and concern as she is looking at you with.

It’s a team effort, but you feel completely enveloped by your teammates love and care as you come down from the panic.

“Doing so well for us y/n, it’s all over now, you;re safe, we’ve got you, we’re not going anywhere.”

You look out to the window, temporarily removing your eyes from Kim’s and realising that your captain is in fact correct, all the noises, lights and pain has stopped, the world is quiet and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

Slowly, as you become more aware of the world and your surroundings, one by one each girl gently removes themselves from you, until you’re left with just Leah, Beth and Viv, the three stragglers who are tasked with getting some food and water into you before sending you off the bed.

It’s a easy enough job, you’re spent and pliant, so Viv force feeds to a slice of pizza whilst Beth forces you to choke down some kind of electrolyte drink.

Once the two are done doting, they both leave you with a kiss on the forehead and gentle words whispered into your ear about how proud they are of you.

Leah is the one tasked with getting you into bed, and she does just that, getting you tucked properly on the covers before giving you a goodnight forehead kiss.

It feels weird watching her walk towards the door, like your being deserted, and you’ve been needy enough as it is tonight but you can’t help but reach out to Leah.

“Stay till I fall asleep, if it’s no trouble?”

Leah just nods and smiles like you’re asking her for a piece of gum, the blonde moving onto the empty side of your bed and leaving her hand flat against your back.

“You’re no trouble at all honey, we’ve got you, any time but especially on these nights.”

#woso #woso community #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #leah williamson x reader #awfc #arsenalwfc #leah williamson x arsenal #arsenal x reader #arsenal women #arsenal #up the arsenal #arsenal imagine #woso imagines #woso imagine #kim little #jen beattie #vivianne miedema #beth mead #lia walti #lotte wubben moy #laura wienroither #panic attacks #pain #little bit sad #actually ptsd #violence #i’m not okay

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Kinktober Special Part 5

Mo’s Kinktober Special 

The Crew’s Whore (Part 5) (+18)

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your powerful fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great skill. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Sanji x afab!reader x Zoro

WC: 3100 :)

TWs: Threesome, three way, anal sex, vaginal sex, blowjob, face fucking, sex toy usage, eating out, oral sex, crying, arguing during the deed, they simply can't agree. I love this one tbh. porn.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5: The Rivals

It was an average night aboard the Thousand Sunny, the crew was in good spirits and was getting ready to enjoy another lavish dinner. Zoro was napping on the upper deck, Usopp and Luffy were playing around and cackling at each other, Sanji was preparing the evening meal in the kitchen, and everyone else was off occupying their time elsewhere. 

You knew you had a special date scheduled with Sanji tonight, so you thought you might visit him in the galley to tease him a bit. He was always so fun to work up. 

You slinked into the galley from the deck and sidled up next to your sweet love cook who was at the sink washing his hands. The countertops were littered with small bowls of meticulously pre portioned ingredients and jars of spices. He senses your presence and turns to face you. 

“Oh mon amour! Do you need anything? I can fix something for you quickly if you want, perhaps a cocktail? Your wish is my command-“ You shut him up by cupping his face in both your hands a pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. You smile at him.

“I’m just excited for tonight, Sanji. Can’t wait to feel you.” You wink at him.

“… oh love, you have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to it… you’ve prepared yourself- right? It’ll be alright if we-?” Sanji slides his hand over your ass, pressing in the center. He felt something subtle but hard resting between your plump cheeks. He could feel the plug you were keeping in your ass, to open yourself up for him later. You nod up at him. A single drop of blood escaped his nose. 

“You are so perfect, y/n, you know that? I have to finish preparing dinner, but trust that I will be thinking of your tight little ass the entire time.” He grins down at you. 

“See you later then.” You flash your cook a smile as you waltz excitedly out of the kitchen. 

——

As per usual, dinner was excellent. You enjoyed plenty of delicious wine and treats as you shot the shit with the crew. After the meal was over, the crew began to filter out of the kitchen and head off to bed. Eventually it was just you, Zoro, and Sanji sitting in the galley. Sanji was finishing dishes and you and Zoro were finishing your drinks. You decide you want to finish the bottle so you lean off of your stool to grab it from the other end of the table. 

Zoro swiftly grabs you by the belt loops of your jeans and slams you down on his his lap aggressively. 

“Ooof- Zoro! Down, boy!” You giggle at him while still pulled into his lap. Zoro leans close to you and begins growling in your ear. The sake was clearly talking.

“Mmm…. Wanna take you on the deck tonight, where anyone could see us…” Zoro starts mouthing at your neck. “You’d love that shit, huh? My dirty little girl… so cute…” He reaches a hand up to grope at your breast. 

“NOT TONIGHT MOSS HEAD!” A damp dishtowel was balled up and chucked full speed at the swordsman’s head on your neck. 

“THE HELL DID YOU SAY?” Zoro picks you up off his lap and sets you down on your feet, getting ready to fight Sanji.

“We have a date, you barbarian. Something you’d know nothing about. She’s spending tonight with me, get in line.” Sanji explains. 

“It’s true, Zoro… I am occupied tonight, I’m sorry, handsome. Tomorrow?” You tried cupping Zoro’s cheek to calm him down. 

“No way, FUCK YOU shitcook! I’ll have what I want when I want it, especially before YOU do! She’d have a much better time with me anyway!” Zoro was heated, he was horny and wanted your body to relieve his stress. That’s what you were for, right? He wasn’t a fan of all the fine print this arrangement came with. 

“YOU THINK YOU FUCK HER BETTER THAN ME? Don’t make me laugh, moron. You don’t know anything about a woman’s pleasure. You can barely tell your left from right.” Sanji spat back at him. 

“I BET YOU’VE NEVER EVEN MADE HER SQUIRT!” Zoro was screaming cross the kitchen island. 

“OF COURSE I FUCKING HAVE YOU ASS-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! Both of you!” You raised your voice and walked to stand in the middle of them at the end of the counter. They both shut their mouths and look at you, not used to hearing you yell. 

“You guys are ridiculous. I care about both of you equally of course, there’s no need to act like toddlers fighting over a toy. You’re grown men. If you can’t figure out how to share, you’re BOTH getting NOTHING.”

“Mon amour but-“ Sanji began to speak.

“NO BUT’S. From EITHER of you. Figure it out.” Frustrated and annoyed, you storm out of the kitchen and return to your room. 

——

About an hour later you were laying on your bed, your silk black robe opened and splayed around your body. You used your left hand to pull and twist your nipple, while your right hand was between your legs slowly teasing your clit with one finger. Regardless of how the night went, the plug in your ass had made you so horny all night that you couldn’t wait any longer to relieve the wet ache in your cunt. Knowing how much better your orgasms were when you had a plug in and also if you took your time to tease yourself, you decided to slowly pleasure your body. Deep sighs and airy whines left your mouth as your chest rise and fell, enjoying the feeling you were giving yourself. You felt your muscles tense around the plug in your ass and you moaned out. 

*knock knock*

“I’m busy…!” You breathe out heavily. The door opens anyway. Sanji gingerly steps in. His eyes widen at your exposed body before him. You didn’t bother to stop your movements, most everyone had seen you like this by now anyway. Sanji strides towards you after a few moments of a blank stare. 

“My love… moss head and I… we worked it out, I promise… may we… still have our date?” He pleads for you as he crawls onto the bed with you. 

“Aww, I knew you could do it, sweet boy. Thank you so much.” You bring your wet fingers up to his lips. He sucks on them greedily. You slide your body to lay back on the bed with your head hanging out off the edge barely. You spread your legs and beckon Sanji to lay between your thighs. He knows exactly what to do. Once situated, Sanji uses both of his large palms to lift up and spread your cheeks so he could see that cute little silver butt plug. He groans at the sight combined with the gorgeous scent of your dripping cunt. 

He dives in immediately. You gasp at the immediate feeling of his lips on your clit. Sanji was one of your lovers that was simply the best at eating pussy. He always did it with such fervor, such passion, that you were convinced he was doing it for him own pleasure. 

Sanji hmm’d and groaned against your slick sex as he became drunk on your flavor. Your breathy moans sped up as he worked your clit and your hole towards a climax. 

*WHAM* 

Your door swung open, you opened your eyes as your head hung off the bed facing towards the doorway. 

Zoro stood there looking you dead in the eye, upside down.

“Hmmm what a pretty sight. Can’t believe you’ve gotten her this close, curly.” Zoro coos at you before stepping inside your room and closing the door behind him. 

“Zoro.. I… Thought you guys worked this… out… What-“ You choke out as Sanji doesn’t even look up and notice the swordsman’s presence. He briefly pulls away from your cunt. 

“We did. I invited him.” He dives back in, sucking on your swollen clit. Sanji slips two fingers inside of you as you process this information. You cry out in pleasure but also confusion. 

“Since you’ve given that shit head the honor of fucking your ass tonight… I figure this would give us the perfect opportunity to learn to share.” Zoro smirked as he strode towards your bed, slowly shedding the sash around his waist and untying his trousers. 

Your pussy throbbed at the thought of having both men inside you at once. 

Zoro stepped out of his pants and came to stand by your sweaty face. He stroked his half hard cock in his hand and used it to firmly tap your lips. 

“Open up, Princess.” 

You oblige and open your mouth and loll your tongue out for him. He shoves his dick into your mouth and thrusts softly and slowly. All of this is happening while Sanji continues his assault on your pussy with his mouth. He needed you soft and open for what was going to happen tonight. 

“Make her cum, cook, I wanna feel her throat when she screams.” Zoro breaths out as he fucks your face. 

“MhmmMMM-HHHMNNN” You shriek out as best you can as Zoro’s now fully erect cock barrels into your throat. 

“Don’t tell me what to fucking do, asshole!” Sanji tried to protest but making you cum was exactly what he wanted, too. Sanji stood up and moved away from you briefly to remove his clothes. You whined around the dick in your mouth desperately, having your orgasm ripped away from you. 

“Awww my beautiful love, don’t worry I’ll give you what you want so badly.” Sanji cooed at you as he lined his cock up with your dripping hole. 

“Shut up and get inside her already!” Zoro barked at him. 

Already sliding inside of you, the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in, Sanji couldn’t come up with a response other than a loud moan. You groan around Zoro, pulling back for a second to catch some air. Sanji began thrusting inside of you.

“Oh fuck-! So good Sanji I-!” You moan out as drool dribbles down your chin. Before you can finish your praise, Zoro is stuffing himself back into your mouth. 

“Moss head, slow down! You’re gonna hurt her!” Sanji pants out as he pounds into your pussy. 

“She’s fine just look at her, she’s about to cum!” They both look down at your shaking form, eyes slammed tightly shut, tears streaming down your face. Your legs clamped so tightly around Sanji’s torso as they trembled. It was clear you were so close. 

“Gonna finish on those pretty tits, princess.” Zoro pulls out of your mouth to hover over your body and stroke his fat cock to completion. Just as the first hot rope hits your chest, your body tipped over the edge and you shrieked as you came, violently, on Sanji’s cock. Your torso jerked forward with the force of your orgasm. 

“So beautiful, my love, I’ll fill you up so good, ah-“ with a final declaration, Sanji spilled his load inside your pussy, grinding his hips into yours and whining. 

After a few moments of silence and heavy breathing, Sanji pulls out of you. 

“Ready for round 2, little slut?” You heard Zoro whisper in your ear. The low timbre of his voice sent fireworks straight to your sensitive cunt. 

“We worked out our issue. It took a lot of effort, so I think you owe us a bit more for dealing with our differences, my love.” Sanji moves out from between your legs to make room for Zoro. 

“Get me hard again.” Zoro barks down at you. You sit up and start to stroke his thick cock, soggy with your spit. 

“And me too, don’t forget about our date mon amour…” 

You were no longer thinking for yourself, your brain had stopped working long ago. You wanted to please both of them so badly, so happy that they had learned to share you so nicely. You lean forward and put Sanji’s sensitive dick into your mouth while you stroke Zoro with your hands. Zoro’s hand was on your throat as Sanji’s hand was tangled in your hair as your bobbed up and down on his oversensitive cock. After a few moments of “good fucking girl”s and “such a cute little slut”s, both of your men were hard again and ready to ruin you. Zoro pulled away first as he laid down on his back on your bed. 

“Sit on it.” Zoro commanded and you obliged. You pulled your wet mouth and tear stained face off of Sanji’s cock as you moved to sit on your swordsman’s thick length. You eagerly lined him up with your open, soaking hole.

“Stop.” Zoro stopped you. “Slow.” He grabbed your hips and guided your body onto him at a torturously slow pace. You let out a long moan as he slips you onto him inch by inch. 

“That’s my good girl, taking me so well. Look at your messy little pussy…” Zoro grabs your hair and makes you look down at the milky combination of your cum and Sanji’s cum leaking out all over his balls and pubes. “See what a filthy mess you’re making on me? Huh? And you still want more cock? What a little slut…” Zoro thrusts up into you and you gasp. 

“Be nice to her, moss head. She’s been such a nice play thing for us tonight. You can’t say one nice thing??” Sanji appears behind you, his chest pressed to your back as he begins to play with the plug in your ass. He slips it in and out of you, moving easily from the amount of lube you have shoved it in with earlier. You whine. 

“Nnnnnn Sanjiiii- Can I have it?” You wanted to feel both of them inside you at once. 

“Fine, curly, y/n has the most perfect holes I’ve ever had. So tight and warm, such a good toy.” Zoro smirked around you at his rival. Sanji ignored him. You feel the plug slip completely from your ass, you sigh at the emptiness. Briefly, Sanji spreads your cheeks as you lean forward onto Zoro’s chest. He could see where Zoro was buried deep inside your soaked cunt as well as your slightly gaping ass, lubed and open for him. 

Slowly Sanji presses his leaking tip into your puckered hole. 

“Sanji!” You yell out.

“Relax… I’m almost in… such a good job my love…”  Sanji whispers as he leans down to kiss your shoulder. “Hey idiot, rub her clit or her suck her nipples or something, She’s gonna loosen up more or else she’s gonna choke my dick in here.” 

“I don’t work for you…” Zoro grumbled as he took your left nipple between his teeth as he snaked his hand underneath you to rub at your engorged clit. 

“Ohhh, FUCK Zoro that’s so good-!” You moan out loudly, feeling your muscles spasm then relax. Then you felt Sanji plunge the rest of his length into your ass. 

“AAHh! FUCK!” You were so full, your head was spinning. Sanji’s thinner length buried deep in your asshole, Zoro’s thick cock bullying your g-spot inside your pussy, it was stimulation overload. Once both men were fully seated, there was some sort of unspoken communication between them and they started thrusting. 

You were screaming. The feeling was so intense, your body was going limp. Zoro held your body up with his strong arms while Sanji gripped your hips tightly with his smooth hands. 

“Holy.. Shit… Moss head, you.. you have to try this next time… It’s so fucking tight and hot…” Sanji desperately thrust his cock into your back hole as he chased his release, completely lost in pleasure. 

Zoro was too busy drilling up into your spent pussy, eyes locked on your face. Your eyes were rolled back and your mouth was completely open and slack. He couldn’t let curly brow cum inside you and not him too… He wanted you to cum again so you could milk him dry. He holds your body above him as you as were tossed back and forth on both of their cocks. 

You were being used as a fuck doll, essentially… and holy shit did it turn you on. Your body was so overstimulated but you felt the knot in your tummy begin to tighten again… 

“Sanji! Zoro! Shit, I’m-“ You squirted your release all over Zoro’s abdomen. Your body fell further forward as you began whimpering when your orgasm wore off. 

“Shit, it’s too tight… I’m going to-“ And with that, You felt the unique sensation of Sanji filling your ass with his hot seed. 

“Me too, fuck!” Zoro jams his hips up into yours and you cry out as he hits your cervix, feeling his throbbing tip deep inside as he fills you. 

You fully fell forwards towards Zoro, falling onto his face, nose pressed between your breasts. Sanji is still seated in your ass as he strokes your back and catches his breath. Eventually, your blonde pulls out, and your moss head picks you off his cock to lay you on your back in bed. 

Zoro spreads your legs. 

From how your hips were angled, the boys could see two loads of cum dripping our of your stretched pussy hole and one load dripping from your puckered asshole. Both men were mesmerized by the sight. 

“so… is someone going to clean me up… or?” You questioned while sitting up on your elbows. 

“I’LL DO IT” the two men shouted at once. They spent the next 5 minutes arguing over who was going to bath you and wash your body while you sat on the bed dripping. You flop back on the bed, realizing they’ll never get over their friendly competition. Oh well, you thought to yourself. If they fucked you like this every time they got jealous, you could get used to it. 

xx

#one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #one piece #one piece anime #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #zoro x reader #sanji #zoro x sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa #one piece zoro #zoro #roronoa zoro x reader

[nastyfairysstuff]

PERV! NEIGHBOR PRICE x FEM!READER warnings !! mature language , pervy actions , dubcon , noncon

pervy!neighbor price who was standing on his front porch smoking a cigarette when his new little neighbor popped up on the first step of the porch, holding a bowl of chocolate chip cookies. his favorite. he saw the way you shifted on your heels, obviously nervous because of him. he liked it, making sure to brush his fingers over yours as he took the cookies and gave a baritone, “ thank you, lil lass. “ flashing a charming smile, just to make you a little more comfortable. he didn’t need you running off so soon.

pervy!neighbor price who, ever since he first saw you, always asks you if you needed anything, even asking you if you needed anything fixed. at first you’d be reluctant to admit that your toilet was broken and in need of immediate fixing, but after having him constantly ask, you soon realized he was just a friendly older neighbor with good intentions. you were just too naive to realize he was expecting something in return.

pervy!neighbor price who always seem to be touchier whenever you come around him. and you’ve realized his usual ‘ goodmorning’s ‘ and ‘ how’s your day’s ‘ are turned into ‘ you got any company today lil missy? ‘ or ‘ you wouldn’t mind coming over today, right? ‘ all while getting closer and closer to you. you to ignore how perverted his gaze is whilst looking at you, but he makes it very hard when he’s undressing you with his eyes.

perv!neighbor price who noticed you haven’t been greeting him in the mornings anymore, and you haven’t even been outside in days. it concerned him. his immediate thoughts were that you had someone in there with you, someone in there that was touching you in places only he should be able to touch. his overthinking was dangerous, dangerous enough that it had him on your doorstep on a cold, rainy sunday morning.

perv!neighbor price who’s eyes softened when your door opened and you stood there wrapped in a blanket with tissue in your nose and your eyes red, obviously sick. a cough, followed by a little whimper fell from your lips, god you really were sick. it took everything in him to hide the happiness that overcame him, his little bunny was all sick and in need of his love. now you won’t be able to fight him when he wants to hug you for long periods of time, or when he wants to play with your little pussy until it’s all puffy and clenching around nothing.

perv!neighbor price who invites himself into your home, ushers you back into bed, and takes things into his hands. he tidies up the house, slipping your spare key into his back pocket, cooks you some soup; ‘ his mother’s special soup ‘ as he calls it, all while checking up on you every few minutes.

perv!neighbor price who makes you a cup of tea, with natural remedies to make you tired. you think he’s just being a good friend, until you start to get all drowsy and disoriented after drinking the tea. whining to him about feeling weird, even as he kissed at your neck. you can barely keep your eyes open as he gently hushes you and slips his hands into your pretty panties. your eyes water from the overwhelming feeling of him lazily rubbing circles on your clit and your head throbbing because of your sickness.

perv!neighbor price who knows how fun the time while you’re sick will be, his fingers on your clit that are now wet are proof enough. he can’t help but pray that you never get better, despite how selfish that may be. missing a few weeks at work won’t be a problem, he has more than enough money to give you just for being cute and obedient just for him.

weeks later, when you finally get better and back on your feet, you wonder why your home smells like sex and why there’s suddenly little red dots blinking at you from corners of your home :((

#overstim kink #smut #noncon drugging #dubcon #captain price #john price #john price x reader #tw drugs #price x reader #cod smut

[taetaespeaches]

showing care through tending to each other’s hair

bts x reader (ocs) genre: fluff word count: 2K

a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s just some blurbs about bts and reader/oc tending to each other’s hair in different ways. Idk if this is executed as well as the idea I had in my head, but I hope you all like it anyway. I just think caring for one another’s hair is kind of romantic... maybe? Thanks for reading! :)) 

↬ seokjin: “What on earth did you do?” Standing at the doorway of the bathroom, you eye your boyfriend as he lowers the kitchen scissors and flashes you a bashful and guilty grin. “I don’t like when my hair covers my eyes,” he pouts cutely, making you giggle. “Those are our kitchen scissors, Seokjin,” you point out as you walk towards him to inspect his hair cutting skills. Jin turns to face you and leans against the edge of the sink, fighting desperately to not laugh at your attempt to pretend like he didn’t completely botch his hair. “How does it look?” He asks, amused by himself as you snort in response. “Your stylists are going to kill you,” you finally tell him as you trace the uneven ends of his hair with your pointer finger. “Fix it?” He suggests cutely, peering into your gaze from under the askew fringe. Gesturing for the scissors, he easily hands them over, allowing you to take over. “You should have waited for me anyway,” you giggle as his arm snakes around your waist to hold you close to him. “I have actual hair cutting shears, you know.” You watch as his plump lips curve into an amused smile as he nods at you. “This is more fun though, don’t you think?”

↬ yoongi: Your boyfriend is sleepy as he watches the basketball game, his head resting in your lap. He’s spent the first half of the game re-explaining the rules of the game to you for the umpteenth time as you toyed distractedly with his hair. It’s gotten so long, enticing you to keep brushing your fingers through it. “I think your hair is long enough to braid.” You watch as he contorts his features into a confused look that makes him resemble an old grandpa except with pouty lips. “What’s that look for?” You question as he holds back a grin. “Why would I need to braid it?” Rolling your eyes, you comb your fingers through his soft strands. “Why not?” you counter before sectioning his hair into three pieces. As you thread the pieces together, Yoongi’s head becomes heavier against your thighs, his breathing deepening. Intertwining his hair a few more times, you smile to yourself and the pretty braid on the side of his head. “See? I told you,” you tell him, holding the braid together between your fingertips. He simply smiles lazily as he pretends to ignore you, much too enthralled by the dribbling of the ball. Unraveling the strands and brushing them out, you begin again, repeating the motions over and over. Looking up at the game, you watch as one of the players gets fouled and takes to the free throw line. “Wait, why do they get to shoot for that foul but the other guy didn’t?” You ask, getting no response. Peering down at the man, you find he’s been lulled to sleep by the gentle touches on his hair. Grinning at him, you continue braiding his dark hair, happy to see Yoongi so relaxed in your lap.

↬ hoseok: “What are you looking at?” your boyfriend asks over your shoulder as you sit on the kitchen stool, peering down at the phone that holds your attention. Gasping and tugging the device against your chest, you look over your shoulder at his pretty smiling face. “Can’t a girl get some privacy with her second boyfriend?” You tease, Hoseok immediately tsking in disapproval and shaking his head. “You’re so mean,” he playfully complains as you lower the phone to let him see the images you’re scrolling through. “I want to change my hair,” you tell him as he scrutinizes the different hairstyles. He oohs in excitement taking the seat next to you and leaning over your body, touching his pointer finger to the screen and swiping through your options. “Wah,” he suddenly exhales as though he was overwhelmed just by the thought of you with the style displayed. “You’d look really sexy with this,” he kisses your shoulder, causing a small smile to tug on your lips. “A bob? You think I should go that short?” You ask skeptically. “If you want,” she shrugs. “I think it would look really good.” Smiling at him, you deposit the phone on the counter and rise to your feet to stand in front of your boyfriend, squeezing yourself between his thighs. Draping your forearms over his shoulders, you bend just enough to leave a kiss to the apple of his pretty cheeks. “You always think I’m sexy though,” you point out, Hoseok giggling in amusement. “Because you are,” he replies, wrapping his arms around the back of your thighs and tugging you closer to him as he beams. “But still, I like the bob.”

↬ namjoon: You watch in amusement as Namjoon struggles to twist the top of his water bottle off. When he looks across the kitchen island at you with wide innocent eyes, you have to fight back your giggle. Reaching out your hand, he reluctantly places the bottle in your grasp. “Arm day?” You ask as you screw the cap a little, just enough to hear the cracks of it opening. “They’re dead,” he sighs, taking the bottle back from you when you hand it over. “Thank you.” Smiling at him, you tilt your head to the side. “You look like you need to relax for a bit,” you tell him, the man giving you a soft smile. “Let me wash your hair for you.” His eyebrows lift in surprise as he runs a hand through the soft strands. “What? Really?” Nodding at him, you start walking toward the bathroom. “Come on,” you gesture down the hall, telling him to follow you. He does, like a giddy puppy, following wherever you tell him. His face is all crescent eyes, a beautiful smile, and cute dimples as you turn on the water to let it warm up. “We need to give your massive arms a rest,” you tease, though being sincere. Namjoon scoffs but smiles in embarrassed flattery, his expression handsome and slightly goofy.  “Let me take care of you, babe.” You love taking care of him, and it’s not often that you get to dote on him in such a way. He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut bashfully, but follows his shyness by taking his shirt off and stepping toward you a bit more confidently. Perhaps you didn’t think this plan through.

↬ jimin: Standing in front of the bathroom mirror brushing your hair, you catch Jimin’s reflection entering the bathroom with his eyes glued to you. “Want help?” He asks through a stunning smile, making you lower the brush and lift your eyebrows in expectation. “You wanna help me, angel?” You ask, Jimin appearing behind you and nodding. “Let me see.” You hand him the brush and tilt your head back slightly to give him better access to the strands. His strokes are gentle as he drags the bristles against your hair, taking his time. There is no rush, as though he would love nothing more than to stand just like this until you feel completely relaxed. Jimin has always been so doting and nurturing, always caring for you in any way he can. Shutting your eyes, you allow yourself to fully appreciate his soothing motions. That is until he giggles, making you pop your eyes open to find him in the mirror smiling in amusement. “I need you to stand up straight, Dear, you’re kind of melting into me here,” he laughs, placing a hand on your hip and guiding you forward. “Sorry,” you smile, realizing you had relaxed completely into his body. However, you immediately miss the feeling of his warmth, this time taking an intentional step back against him. “Dear,” he giggles, giving up and resting his chin against your shoulder. Laughing happily, you turn into his frame and hug your arms around his slim waist. “Sorry,” you say again, this time less sincere as you smile against his neck before leaving a kiss to the spot. “No you’re not,” he retorts, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “No, I’m not.”

↬ taehyung: Eyeing the ends of your hair, you sigh. “I need a trim,” you pout from your spot on the bed as Taehyung hangs some clothes in the closet. “Want me to do it?” He teases from across the room, a small smile on his face as he finds amusement in his own joking. “Could you?” You suddenly ask, gaining his full attention as he snaps his head in your direction, his smile dropping into a blank expression. “What?” He asks in confusion, lowering the shirt and hanger to his side. “Just the ends,” you clarify, fighting back the smile that wants to break through in response to his concern. “I was kidding,” he points out. “I’ve never cut hair before.” You can see the gears in his head turning as he tries to figure out if you’re in your right mind. “There’s a first time for everything,” you shrug. Taehyung’s expression softens slightly as he cracks a small smile, still in disbelief of this interaction. “Peaches,” he sighs, making you giggle. “Dearest,” you reply with a grin. You know the idea of trying something new excites him, and perhaps that’s why you’re pressuring your boyfriend with no hairdressing experience to trim your ends. You’re prepared to tell him how good he is at it just to watch the confidence fill up his stature in that way you love. “You’re losing it,” he then grins as you stand from the bed and make your way towards him. He hangs the shirt just before you reach him and settle your hands on his hips. “Oh, I’m batshit, baby,” you joke. Resting his arms on top of your shoulders, he leans toward you, his lips almost touching yours. “And if I fuck it up?” You shrug again, Taehyung’s face opening into a wide boxy beam. “It’s just hair, Tae.” Pushing yourself forward, you leave a soft kiss to his lips, appreciating the way he has to break away because he’s smiling just a bit too much.

↬ jungkook: Sitting on top of the bathroom counter, you toss your head back in laughter, attempting to catch your breath as Jungkook stares past you and into the mirror with his bambi eyes. A streak of blue sits across his forehead as he asks, “Do you know what you’re doing?” With your blue-stained glove-covered hands held out to the side, you pull a face of offense. “No, but when has that ever mattered?” you question him, watching as a boyish smile overtook his features. “You’ve literally dyed your own hair before, and you’re worried about me.” He glances from his reflection to you as he sighs. “Do I look hot yet?” He asks, pulling a giggle from your lips. “Super hot.” When Jungkook mentioned wanting to dye his hair blue the other day, you jumped on the opportunity to do it for him. Wiping the blue from his forehead, you whisper a quick apology. “I’ll be more careful,” you grin guiltily. “Remember, you’re next,” he warns, flashing a mischievous smile, making you bite your lower lip in thought. “That was not part of the plan,” you argue as you place more dye onto his hair, only for him to take a step away from you to shoot a glare your way. “We’d be couple goals, babe.” Rolling your eyes, you cocked your head to the side, Jungkook mimicking your sassy stance. “We gotta match.” With a sigh, you relent, never really being that against the idea, and never being able to deny him anyway. “Fine. But you’re not done yet,” you nod for him to come closer again. “We’re gonna be so hot together,” he whispers to himself, making you giggle as you get back to work on his hair.

#bts reactions #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts blurbs #bts headcanon #jungkook fluff #taehyung fluff #jimin fluff #namjoon fluff #hoseok fluff #yoongi fluff #jin fluff #jungkook imagine #taehyung imagine #yoongi imagine #bts headcanons

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Number 34 marilyn x larissa x reader. Reader is a student (of age and only if you're comfortable with it) who keeps getting distracted in Marilyn's lessons and anytime they are brought into larissa's office

When the Heat is Mutual ~Alpha!Larissa Weems x Omega!Marilyn Thornhill xFem Beta!Younger!Student!Reader (A/B/O{Omegaverse} Au)

Summary— Reader is an of age student who can’t seem to focus in Marilyn’s botany classes. Reader also happens to be a beta and in heat. Larissa and Marilyn suggest an alternative to help. Anon Response— Hey heyyy anon!! Thank you for the request! I love this idea. The Reader is assumed to be 18 or older. And I added an a/b/o AU for some extra fun Ehehe. Enjoy! ♥️♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#34. “Is that what’s been bothering you? Oh my, well I’m sure we can fix that.”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!, mainly fluff, implied smut, talk of smut, talk of sexual desires, age gaps (all legal), a/b/o Au/omegaverse Au, Dom/sub implied relationships, implied breeding kink, implied begging kink, implied domination, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t help being born a beta. You couldn’t help the animalistic genes passed down to you. You couldn’t help when you were in heat.

For a couple days of the month, the days in which you were ovulating, you were highly sensitive in all manners of the word. You hadn’t slept well. You couldn’t eat much. All you could hold in your stomache was water. You dealt with mood swings and tidal wave cravings. You had cramps and heat flashes. Intense cravings and desires overwhelmed your system at all times. Wants to curl up and nest through it all. Needs that you didn’t dare utter aloud causing you to drown in your own desperation.

It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t help being born a beta. You couldn’t help the animalistic genes passed down to you. You couldn’t help when you were in heat. But it’s not like you could spend a whole week of each month in your dorm suffering. So you did your best to ignore your time of the month.

“Miss L/N, for the last time, are you with us…??” Ms. Thornhill seethed, frustrated at how you apparently couldn’t keep any interest or attention in her class all week.

Your eyes shot up, wide, and toward the botanist. You gulped and went red.

“I’m sorry…” you murmured, looking away in embarrassment.

Marilyn looked you up and down and sensed that something was off. It seemed to have been off all week… She decided to go with her gut.

“Miss L/N, please see me and Principal Weems after your classes today.” Ms. Thornhill instructed you with a blank face and tone.

You gulped and nodded, letting out a whimper of a yes ma’am… You probably would have spent the rest of you day anxiously spiraling about the foreboding meeting with Thornhill and Weems, but today, you were in too deep with other matters to even think about it at surface level.

You knew that as the days progressed, your symptoms would only get worse. The second to last day of your heat would be the most intense, the last day would be filled with depression and distraught, ie your body realizing that it hadn’t gotten what it wanted.

Today you guessed was most likely your second to last day, as you’d been in heat for almost a week and the symptoms had peaked today of all days. Physically, you were constantly wet, shaking at all times, trembling as you walked and sat, wobbling with weak legs, breathing shallow and faltering, overheating at all hours of the day, stumbling with imbalance, and stuttering every other word that came out.

But the physical aspects didn’t compare to the mental. Mentally, you were in full heat mode…

Dominated… you needed her to push you and order you around… be rough but soft at the same time. You needed to kneel and look up to your alpha, powerless to her, surrendering all control…

Begging… You needed her dirty words whispered into your ear, as you whimpered and begged for it… you needed to let out all the dirty thoughts in your head, begging your alpha to make it come true… you needed her to get off at how pathetic and desperate you sounded…

Breeding… you needed her seed, her cum deep inside you… needed her to fuck until your stomache was swelling with her offspring… needed it, needed it, needed it…

As you knocked and entered Principal Weems’ office door, you tried to pull yourself back to reality from your deep, carnal desires. You closed the door behind you with a shuttering breath, as the two women swiveled their heads towards you. Larissa was sitting behind her desk, Marilyn on the left guest seat.

“Miss L/N, thank you for joining us. Please have a seat, Darling.” Ms. Weems spoke.

The petname put you on edge, enough where if you could just hump that arm chair…—

You shook your head and sat down as instructed. Marilyn’s quizzical gaze was on you, along with Larissa’s confident one. They both observed you for a moment, before Ms. Weems began,

“Ms. Thornhill tells me that you have been having trouble focusing in class…” the blonde spoke.

You went red and looked in your lap as your fingers fidgeted with one another.

“Mhmm ‘m sorry Principal Weemss…” you whispered, squirming in your chair.

“Larissa is fine in here, Darling.”

Larissa raise her brow at you, when you winced while you nodded. Her instincts told you something was off… You looked uncomfortable, in pain.

“Miss L/N, are you feeling alright…?” Ms. Weems asked.

Marilyn looked from Larissa to you, then leaning forward and placing a hand on your leg. You gasped and met Marilyn’s sympathetic gaze with wide eyes.

“You can talk to us, Y/N…” Marilyn gently said.

Suddenly, your suffering was stifled, things started to make sense again. You could think clearly. Her touch was your cure. But it wasn’t the entire cure… the pang of desire in you was still aflame.

“I… I’m… in heat…” you stammered in a whisper.

Marilyn’s eyes widened, her hand pulling back from your leg. You whimpered at the loss of touch, immediately slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as the pathetic sound came out. Your face was reddened in embarrassment as both women watched you carefully, processing the meaning of your words. Suddenly, Larissa let out a brief, dry laugh, then standing up, rounding her desk, and sitting on the edge of her desk in between you and Marilyn.

“Is that what’s been bothering you…?” Larissa softly cooed, leaning forward towards you.

You bit your lip, looking down to the floor, and nodding with a beet red face.

“Oh my, well I’m sure we can fix that.” The blonde hummed.

Your head shot up at Larissa’s words.

“Fix?” You promptly asked.

Your gaze met Larissa’s, but her eyes were different, darker and glimmering with a certain shine. You looked over to Marilyn, who seemed to be on the same page as Larissa. The redhead leaned forward in her chair, her hand now coming up to your thigh. You shivered and nearly moaned at the touch.

“Let us help you, sweetheart… We understand.” Marilyn cooed.

“Help me…? You understand?” You stammered.

“Yes Darling. Hear us out and then you can decide, does that sound alright?” The blonde comforted you.

You nodded slowly, entranced by the way Marilyn’s hand slowly drew circles on your outer thigh. Larissa smiled at your response, then standing up and offering you her hand. You took it and your body exploded at the skin to skin contact. The blonde principal guided you to the long, lavish couch by the fire, placing you in the middle. Your mind was even more dizzy and you could barely comprehend what was happening anymore.

When Larissa let go of your hand, part of reality came crashing into you, along with waves of sadness and distraught. But those feelings were soon semi-sated as Larissa sat on your right, and Marilyn on your left, closest to the fire. Marilyns hand found its home back on your thigh and you let out a sigh of relief. Larissa’s hand cupped your chin and swiveled your face and gaze to her.

“You understand what is happening to you, don’t you?” Larissa asked, while drinking in your form.

You shrugged your shoulders and let out a shaky breath.

“Kind of…” you stammered.

“Why don’t you tell me what you know, and I will fill in the gaps for you, Darling…” the blonde cooed.

You gulped and your breath hitched as you felt Marilyn’s fingers dance around the top of your thigh.

“I know that I go through ‘heat’… it’s biology, that I can’t help it. I get all messed up and I can’t function… its hopeless, so I just bear with it and it’s goes away after a couple days usually…” you rambled.

“Good girl.” Larissa hummed, “Yes, you are mostly correct. Your heats are biological, and you go through them in cycles. If you don’t address them, they will only get worse. I assume this is why you’ve been suffering these past few days… You’ve had built up heats, unaddressed?”

You broke your locked gaze from the tall blonde, nodding slowly.

“But it’s not hopeless, sweetheart. There are ways to treat and manage the heats.” Marilyn reassured you, squeezing your thigh lightly.

You let out a shaky sigh at Marilyn’s physical comforting, thanking whatever higher power that it didn’t come out as a moan. You looked towards the redhead and nodded. Larissa sighed towards Marilyn.

“Marilyn, that is enough. She hasn’t decided hers and your overabundance of teasing is not helpful…” Larissa sternly told the redhead.

Marilyn’s eyes widened and she quickly retracted her hand from your thigh. You felt your core start screaming again, for more. More touch. More anything. But Larissa’s words intrigued you enough to pull your focus to the tall blonde.

“Decide what…?”

Larissa sighed and Marilyn took a deep breath. The tall principals gaze met yours lovingly.

“If you want us to help you…” she purred.

Your cheeks went ablaze at her words.

“I… w-what…?” You stammered, your throat going dry.

“Marilyn and I, we understand your situation more than others… Correct me if I’m wrong, but you are a beta, aren’t you?” Larissa explained slowly.

You gulped and nodded, meeting the woman’s gaze submissively.

“Mmmmm that is what we thought. Well Marilyn is an omega, and I am an alpha. We are both also in our heats…”

Your heart nearly jumped up and out of your throat as the blonde woman’s statement, and your eyes went wide. Were you hearing this correctly…?

“And… Marilyn and I, if you are amenable, would like to offer our aid—” Larissa explained gently.

“Yes.” You immediately choked out.

The tall woman’s gaze widened and brightened at your interrupted response. She then smirked and turned her attention to Marilyn who gave a her a nod.

“Alright, then how about we start with you telling us what you want, Darling…?” Larissa purred.

“How can we help you, sweetheart…?” Marilyn asked as well, as Larissa placed her hand on your back reassuringly.

You looked from the redhead’s gaze then to the blonde’s.

“I… ummmmm…” You stammered,

“That’s alright, take a deep breath for us…” Larissa cooed.

You nodded towards the woman and did as she said.

“Good girl. Now use your words, sweet girl…” the blonde praised.

“I w-want… to be… dominated” you stammered, your words turning into embarrassed whispers.

Marilyn’s hand then reached out to grasp yours and squeeze it reassuringly.

“It’s all good, sweetheart. You got this.” The redhead comforted you.

You met her loving gaze and nodded with a gulp.

“W-want you to take control… of all of it of me. Want to be used but also taken care of… want to not have to think, to not have my head ringing in m-my ears…” you confessed, while Larissa and Marilyn listened intently as you continued,

“Want to be sated mmmd satiated… whatever just want to feel full… so full…” you whimpered, starting to rock back and forth as your words were starting to make you spiral,

“Need it… need it, need to be bred… God I need to be full…” you whimpered loudly, but you were interrupted by Larissa’s hand squeezing your shoulder lightly and bringing you back to her and the other woman.

“That’s good, Darling. Very good girl.” Larissa purred, “Do you trust us…?”

You smiled lightly and nodded.

“Yes…” you lightly said.

Larissa smiled lightly, before standing up and offering her hand to you, Marilyn following.

“Then why don’t we go to a proper bedroom, hmmm Darling…?” The blonde husked.

You eagerly took Larissa’s hand as she guided you to her private bedroom attached to her office, the redhead following behind you.

~~~

Interested in Part 2…? With Smut…? 😏

Larissa Weems Masterlist

Marilyn Thornhill Masterlist

#marilyn thornhill x reader #marilyn thornhill #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #weems #principal weems #weems x reader #larissa #larissa x reader #gwendoline christie #gwen christie #christina ricci #gwendoline is mommy #wednesday netflix #wednesday fanfic #wednesday 2022 #wednesday fandom #wednesday fluff #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o verse #a/b/o au #a/b/o lifestyle #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #cissyenthusiast010155 answers #Larissa weems x Marilyn Thornhill #Larissa x Marilyn #Marilyn x Larissa #Marilyn Thornhill x Larissa weems

[arc-misadventures]

NNN: Jaune and Jessica bet their teams they can last NNN.....how do they do?

NNN: J

Jaune: I can totally beat, NNN. Just you watch me!

Blake: You really think you can do that?

Jaune: Easily!

Blake: What makes you think that? I mean, Jessica is just a cuter version of, Ruby…

Ruby: You take that back!

Blake: Can you really deny, Green Ruby?

Ruby: Green what?!

Jaune: First off, Ruby’s nothing like Jessica.

Ruby: That’s right! I’m way better than that goblin!

Blake: How so?

Jaune: First off. She’s a legal loli, Ruby isn’t.

Blake: That’s true.

Ruby: Excuse me what?

Jaune: And, Jessica has magic powers with her ring. Wait, Ruby has magical powers with her eyes… They’re both cute as a button. Both have a passion for heavy ordanence. Both are small. One is green, the other is red, making them complimentary colours. Have small chest, but full butts. Wow… It’s like they’re twins…

Blake: So if you imagine, Ruby as, Jessica, would that make you dealing with, NNN hard?

Jaune: No, she’d just be, Red Jessica then.

Ruby: I’d be red what?!

Blake: But, don’t you want to… ‘tap dat ass?’

Jaune: I do, but I’d rather tap the older Jessica ass, than the younger one. Well, 60/40 in favour of which, Jessica I’d like to tap.

Jaune: …

Jaune: First…

Blake: Older Jessica?

Jaune: Yeah, back in her world she’s in her twenties, she looks like a completely different person. I bet, Ruby will just look a few inches taller when she’s older.

Ruby: Take that back!

Blake: What does she look like, this older, Jessica?

Jaune: Here’s a photo she sent me…

Blake: Damn~! Puppetry was kind to her~!

Ruby: I bet I’ll get a better figure then her.

Jaune: See! I want to tap that! But, I can’t…

Blake: Why not?

Jaune: She’s back in her world, and I’m here… Can’t lose, NNN when there’s nothing to lose to…

Blake: But, I thought she was coming back?

Jaune: She promised she would, but even she doesn’t know when she could… So, yeah…

Blake: So, what are you going to do then?

Jaune: Wait, and see. What else can I do?

Ruby: You can fun with me instead~?

Jaune: Not now, Red Jessica.

Ruby: I am not, Green Ruby!?!

Blake: What do you think, Jessica is doing now?

Jaune: Probably saving the world, that’s what heroes do after all.

~~~~~~

Meanwhile in the, DC RWBY Universe

~~~~~~

Jessica: FIX THAT FUCKING MACHINE ALREADY!!!

Jessica was not saving the world at the moment, she was currently losening her mind with unbridled lust, and blinding rage.

For she was currently being restrained by her friends, Powegirl, Wonderwoman, Superman, and Hal Gordon of the Green Lantern Corp. At least they we’re trying to; One would think three of the, Leagues strongest members could restrain a girl in her mid twenties with relative ease. However, they didn’t take into consideration what a highly horny girl, who was frustrated to no end because she was so hormonal could do to a person.

For in, Jessica’s, hormonal rage, for the lack of a better description, had received both a ring from the, Star Sapphire Core, and the Red Lantern Core. Making an already powerful Lantern exponentially more powerful, and terrifying.

Clark: Hurry up! We’re barely holding her back!

Victor: We’re working as fast as we can!

A multi coloured blast of energy soon shot past, Cyborg’s head, narrowly missing the trans-dimensional gateway thar he, and Batman we’re working on repairing.

Bruce: Hal, block her energy blasts. If one those hits the machine it will be destroyed.

Hal: I’m trying, but I’m fighting three on one!

Kara: Have you called any, Lanterns for back up!

Hal: I called, but it will take them a while to come here.

Another multi coloured blast ripped past, Hal’s head, and nearly impacted one of the stations windows, but the blast doors quickly shut as the, Flash hit the emergency button to activate the blast doors.

Wally: Okay, that was close. Okay, can someone explain to me what’s going on?

Diana: She’s been cursed by, Aphrodite!

Wally: What?

Kara: She decided to do the, NNN challenge. But, that only made her think of that, Jaune kid she’s been talking about, and now she’s just really, really horny!

Clark: And, angry!

Wally: Oh… Well, not to sound vulgar, but can’t she just… do it, and relax then?

Kara: You certainly never been with a woman before have you?!

Wally: Hey!

Bruce: Enough. Just hold on a little longer, we’ve nearly finis…?!

Victor: Oh shit!

Hal: AHHH?!

Another blast of energy hit, Hals shield, only this time it broke through, and slamming into, Hal, and sending him flying only for the bolt of energy to fly though the air, and crash into the machine. It surged with new found power from within, suddenly it blast upward into a multi coloured hole in the ceiling. The ensemble of heroes stared at the whole before something fell through it, and hit the ground with a heavy thud. Before the portal, as it seemed to be suddenly vanished.

They look down upon the ground to see a suit of armour slowly rise from the ground. It’s once polished clean white metal, now was stained by streaks of rust. The knight looked down at his hands before a weary sigh escaped its lips. It’s hands reached up, and removed its helmet, revealing a mane of blond hair tied in a wolf tail. It looked down at the helmet in it’s hands before letting a deep sigh escape his lips. One burdened by the weight of the world, and tired of carrying such a burden around without rest.

: I see… I’m the, Rusted Knight once again… peachy. But… where am I? This clearly isn’t the, Ever After… So where is it?

The figure was about to turn around, when they heard a series of mechanical shifts, and the whirling of engines. He had the stinking feeling he was in a place he wasn’t supposed to be.

Bruce: Who are you, how did you get here?

: I don’t know how I got here, a portal appeared below my feet, and I fell through it, and suddenly I appeared here. As for who I am, well… In this form, I was called the, Rusted Knight. But, that was only in children’s fairytale. But, my real name is, Jaune Arc.

The knight held up it’s hands as it slowly turned around to face them, revealing a grizzled beard of golden hair, laced with white streaks. As he stood before them, he looked at them with a perplexed expression across his face as he stared at them in turn.

Jaune: Do I know you? You look familiar, at least some of you, have we met…? Wait… Jessica, is that you?

The trio was struggling to contain, the Tri-Coloured Lantern from her hormonal rage, but she suddenly went slack in their arms, as the knight fell through the portal. But, her breath quickened as she saw a grizzled old blond man appear before them.

Jessica: J-J-Jaune…? Is that really you?

Jaune: It’s really me my little nightlight.

Jaune smiled warmly, with a fatherly smile as if he was pleased to with what he saw before him. For him, being reunited with his girlfriend, even in such an unorthodox manner was quite pleasing to him. Jessica was also, extremely pleased to see her boyfriend again, she was however, going through a panic attack as she struggled to digest what she was seeing before her.

Jessica: J-J-Jaune’s here?! B-But it’s not, Jaune… This, Jaune is b-bigger! Taller! Those muscles?! And, the beard! That glorious beard! And, are those white streaks? J-Jaune’s a silver fox?! He’s a total daddy now! My Daddy now! Ah… Ah-ha…! Ahahahahahahaha?!

Everyone started looking at, Jessica in concern. Jaune was concerned that after finally reuniting with his girlfriend they would have had happy embrace, followed by a lovers kiss. But, here he was watching his girlfriend falling down into a mad fit of laughter.

For the rest of the, Justic League it was unsettling to see their friend go from stark raving mad, to looking like she was just dosed in, Joker laughing gas.

And, yet it all ended as fast as it began.

Jessica: Aaaaahhhh~!

(“Thud”)

Blood poured down, Jessica’s nose she she finally stopped laughing, before she promptly fainted, and fell upon the ground. Silence hung in the air as all turned to face their unexpected guest.

Jaune: Uhhh… Sorry?

Clark: All thing’s considered this was probably for the best.

Jaune: Okay…?

Kara: That’s, Jaune?!

Diana: he was a teenager when I last saw him, not like… this?!

Kara: Do you think, Jessica is open to sharing?

Jaune: So uhh… what now?

#rwby #jaune arc #blake belladonna #ruby rose #jessica cruz #clark kent #diana prince #victor stone #hal jordan #kara danvers #bruce wayne #barry allen #jaune x jessica #jessica x jaune #rwby knightlight #batman #wonder woman #dc cyborg #green lantern #red lantern #star sapphire #the flash #superman #power girl

[vivwritesfics]

https://www.tumblr.com/vivwritesfics/733917696924745728/hey-can-you-write-a-daniel-ricciardo-x-gf-reader

Can you do a part to where he does somehow get Taylor to help him propose? I wasn’t going to ask for this originally, but I have to read that put it in my head and I can’t get it out. If not, that’s completely fine.

The First Part

Maybe the rumours around her relationship with Fernando where what gave him the courage to message the queen, the mother, Taylor Swift.

Well, she didn't respond right away, not until she was confirmed to be dating Matty Healy, and then broken up with Matty Healy, and then dating Travice Kelce (the news loves reporting on the queen and I love reading it).

When she did respond, Daniel had already been trying to find another way to propose. He wouldn't admit he was disappointed as he tried to find the perfect way to pull the ring from his pocket and ask his girlfriend to marry him.

Taylor responded and they set everything up. It didn't matter where Taylors concert was going to be; Daniel was going to fly his girlfriend out there to watch it on the anniversary of their first date.

They made an entire trip of it, of their anniversary. Daniel had several fun things planned before the concert, which he kept a secret. Well, kept a secret until the day of. And the only reason why he told her was so that he could buy her the outfit of her dreams.

The concert started normally. A few people recognised Daniel and asked for pictures, but they were all very respectful of the couple. Everything went as expected, and she didn't expect anything.

But then the lights stopped flashing and Taylor stepped up to the microphone. There was no music playing as she asked the crowd for quiet.

"We've got some special people in the crowd tonight," she said and the crowd cheered. She waited for them to fall silent again before she continued. "I've got a message for Y/N. Do we have Y/N in the crowd?"

Her eyes were wide as she stared at the stage. The Taylor Swift was talking about her. Well, there were probably a thousand Y/N's in the crowd; there was no way Taylor was talking to her.

What she didn't see was her boyfriend beside her, getting onto one knee and pulling out a ring box. The F1 fans that recognised the pair had their phones out, filming the whole thing.

"Your boyfriend wants me to ask you, will you marry him?"

Daniel suddenly tugged on her sleeve. Her eyes were still fixed on the stage when she turned towards him. But then she saw him, saw him on his knees, the ring sparking in the stage lights "Holy fuck, Danny," she whispered, her hands flying to her mouth to mask her shock.

"Will you marry me?" He asked again, but she couldn't hear it over the sound of the crowd.

She nodded her head, shouted her answer, but Daniel couldn't hear it. He took the ring off, placed it on her finger and pulled her into his arms. When his fist pumped the air, everybody cheered, letting the queen herself know that it had been a success.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader

[wreckedandpolemic]

can't seem to get it right - matty healy

prompt: secret admirer

day 1 of the lovely @abiiors' valentine75 prompts!! i actually dont think this is very good i am very much a one trick pony in this space However i had fun writing it and thats what matters!!!

no warnings here this is v v short and sweet <3

Nauseated, you swat at the tacky, heart-shaped balloon as it drifts into your vision, ignoring its owner’s affronted scoff and stomping off down the hallway. Matty snickers behind you and you turn your glare on him. He holds his hands up in mock-surrender. “What’d that balloon ever do to you?”

You roll your eyes. “Fucking hate this week. It’s not even Valentine’s yet and this whole fucking place is full of dickheads who think their hormone-fuelled ‘love story’ makes them the centre of the universe. Just an excuse for brands to paint themselves pink and flog you shiny crap that’ll go in the bin after five seconds.” A strange look flickers across Matty’s face, but the bell rings sharply before you can question it. You trudge off to your class — double History, ugh — and don’t think on it for another moment.

The boy that sits across from you in History, Cameron, has a massive crush on you, flirts incessantly, flushes when you turn a smile on him. He’s not hard to look at, sweet-faced and kind, and not totally hopeless with a textbook, either. So, when he blushes and stammers his way through asking you out when you mention not having any Valentine’s plans, you think, this could be fun. “Is it gonna be worth my time?” you ask, leaning towards him and grinning when he flinches. “Convince me.” Eyebrows go up around the table at your challenge, Cameron smiling nervously and stuttering out something that passes for an affirmative. You flash your teeth, predatory. Maybe you shouldn’t play around with boys like this, but it’s so much fun. And they make it so easy.

The next morning, a card addressed to you has been slipped into your locker. The message is short, but sweetly poetic, witty in a way you hadn’t known Cameron could be. It’s unsigned, but the sentiment is adorable, and you make a mental note to get him a gift later. You catch sight of Matty sloping down the hall, and wave him over. “How sweet is this?” you say, smiling cheek to cheek. “Didn’t think he’d actually convince me to go on a date with him, but… Who knows? Might actually be fun.”

Matty’s face falls for a split second, before he rearranges it into smooth blankness that quickly crumples into confusion. “Wait– date? With who?” he demands. 

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Cameron. From my History. He’s nice.”

Matty scoffs. “I’m sure,” he huffs, rolling his eyes. Your face scrunches, displeased. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m sure he’s a top bloke, and you’ll skip off into the sunset holding hands and pop out a million adorable little blonde babies.”

You splutter a laugh, shoving him gently. “Don’t be a dick. He’s nice,” you repeat, fixing him with a glare. “I haven’t even agreed to the date yet, nobody’s skipping off into the sunset.”

Shrugging, Matty kicks idly at the row of lockers. “Yet,” he teases, and the brief flare of awkwardness between you melts away. “Listen, I really don’t feel like hanging around this shithole the rest of the day. Wanna come smoke?” he offers. You shouldn’t — you really shouldn’t — but that’s never stopped you before. Especially when it comes to Matty and the teasing grin he dares you with.

“Go on, then.” You shoulder your bag and follow Matty out of the gates, the short stroll to your favourite smoke spot passing quickly as you chat back and forth about nothing.

“I can’t believe you’re actually going on a fucking date,” Matty tells you, voice thickened by the smoke pouring from his mouth.

“Oi!” you snap playfully. “Why’s that so unbelievable, huh?”

“Well, you’re hideous, for one,” he says, gasping when you stomp down hard on his foot. “I’m messing, I’m messing! You were the one being mardy about Valentine’s Day, like, yesterday, though.” He shrugs, passing you the last of the joint. 

Flicking away the roach, you blow out rings of smoke. “Yeah, I dunno. Probably won’t go, but it’s kind of nice being chased.” You scoff, leaning back against a tree. “I know you don’t have that problem, ‘cos you’ve got all your fuckin’ groupies.” A sharp edge creeps into your words at the end, and you bite the inside of your cheek to curb it. “But some of us aren’t used to that attention every second of the day, and we take it where we can get it.”

Matty shrugs. “Touche. Don’t think he’s worth your time, though,” he says, tone thick with something you can’t decipher through the weed-induced haze enveloping your mind.

You wave a hand dismissively. “Shut up, you dick.”

After dousing yourself in body spray to cover the weed smell, you let yourself into your house, stopping short at the bouquet that sits innocently under the hallway mirror. Red carnations bound around pink roses and an inexplicable spray of miniature daffodils, a muted pink ribbon tying them closed.

“Hi, love!” your mum shouts, appearing around the corner. “Those came for you while you were out. No name. Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer,” she grins, nudging you as you flush.

“It’s just this bloke from my History.” You wave a hand dismissively, but you can’t help smiling at the bouquet. “Trying to convince me to go out with him for Valentine’s.”

Your mum’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, eyes so wide it’s comical. “You? Valentine’s?” she says incredulously, face softening into a warm smile. “Love, that’s great. You’ll have such a good time,” she smiles.

You scoff. “Steady on, I haven’t said yes, yet.”

Smirking knowingly, your mum pads off into the kitchen, shouting back at you to be down for tea in an hour. You pick up the flowers on your way upstairs, arranging them delicately in a vase on your windowsill and snapping a quick picture. You debate texting Cameron a thank you, but decide against it — he sent them anonymously, after all.

Strangely, though, Cameron’s behaviour the rest of the week is at odds with the gifts that keep piling up. The chocolates aren’t a surprise, and nor is the single red rose laid across your desk, though maybe a little dramatic. But he doesn’t take credit for any of it, nothing in his face even indicating there’s anything he should be taking credit for.

That Friday, the last day Cameron has to convince you, a little, flat box finds its way into your schoolbag. You peel off the ribbon and find a delicate necklace nestled against deep blue velvet. It’s exquisite, a crystal pendant hanging off a thin silver chain. You slide into your seat in History, a little bemused, and smile at Cameron. He smiles back, twirling his hands nervously. “Everything was lovely,” you say, and his brow furrows in confusion. “The card, and the chocolates, and the flowers. I’d love to go out with you.” He breaks into a wide smile, sunlight practically beaming from his face. “But the necklace is too much — it must’ve cost a fortune!”

He blinks innocently at you. “Um, that’s great. I’d, um, love to take you out. But, uh, I didn’t get you any gifts,” he says, biting his lip.

Your head spins as you sift through your memories of the last week, reexamining them through a new lens. All at once, something clicks into place, and you bolt out of your seat. “I’m sorry,” you rush out. “I can’t go out with you. I’ve gotta– I need to go.” You shove your stuff back into your bag, leaving Cameron stuttering and baffled at your back, and dash off.

You find Matty where he usually is, tucked away in a practice room and engrossed in a guitar. Taking a second before he notices you outside the door, you fix the necklace around your neck and smooth your hair nervously. Should you put on some lipgloss? No, that’s crazy, right? It’s Matty. Your heart is racing, your mouth suddenly dry. How were you so fucking stupid? Of course fucking Cameron from History didn’t write that stupid card. 

Taking a deep breath to settle your nerves, you turn the handle of the practice room, and it rattles but stays closed. Locked, obviously. You clap a palm to your face; this is off to a terrible start. Then, Matty looks up, eyes lighting up as they find the pendant at the hollow of your throat, your heart melting at the sweetness in his face.

Matty stands up to open the door. “Hi,” he says, and all the tenseness melts from your body.

“It was you,” you whisper, collapsing into his arms and resting your head on his shoulder. “All of those lovely things were you. And you let me bang on about fucking Cameron all week! Matty, I feel like a total idiot, I’m so sor–” Matty cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, tentative and gentle.

“Knew you’d figure it out eventually, love, smart girl that you are,” Matty murmurs against your lips, and you smile softly, face flushed. He pulls you close, his body warm against yours, and tugs you into the practice room, pressing you up against the door as soon as it clicks shut. 

You lose yourself in his kiss, his hands steady at your waist as you melt against him. His tongue parts your lips and sweeps your mouth, tasting faintly of cigarettes and spearmint gum. Breathless, you break away, a string of saliva briefly connecting your lips, and you giggle quietly as it breaks. “Thank you,” you murmur.

A dopey smile crosses his face. “You’re welcome,” he says, cupping your jaw and pulling you back in, kissing you so hard it steals the breath from your lungs. A quiet squeal escapes you when he dips his head to bite at your neck, and you indulge him for a moment before pushing his head away gently.

“Down, boy,” you say, giggling when he kisses over the necklace at the hollow of your throat.

Matty’s eyes shine hopefully as he looks down at you. “So,” he dips his head to kiss you. “Can I finally take you out?” He punctuates every word with a kiss, butterflies swirling in your stomach.

Widening your eyes, you look up at him with a pout that splits into a smile without your permission. “Well, my Saturday did just free up…” you tease, and he rolls his eyes. “I’d love to.” You stretch to your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Matty grins, his joy practically infectious, warming you through and melting your heart, leaving it dripping stickily down your ribs. His lips meet your neck again, his next words murmured against your bruising skin. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

#alternate universe in which matty took alevels lol #the flowers Allegedly mean 'my heart aches for you' 'please believe me' and 'unequalled love' #dont hold me to that idk i did a very cursory google search #also these r all scheduled but happy show day to me!!! #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy smut #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #valentine75 #writing #smut

[ilovepedro]

Deja Vú | javier peña x f!reader

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

Chapter 3 - I don’t want no substitute

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Chapter summary: You finally go on your date with Chris. What you don’t expect, or rather who, to see there are Javier and Cassandra. Tension grows as the night goes on. Things finally boil over after a confrontation with Javier and Cassandra. Confessions arise as you and Javier are forced to face the music.

Chapter warnings: angst, confessions of love, arguing, idiots in love, unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all), fingering, spanking, face riding, oral (f receiving), subspace, hint of ass play, creampie, possessive!Javi, jealous!Javi, (soft)dom!Javi, hella pet names, fluff, pillowtalk, reader speaks and understands Spanish, reader is female and has hair Javi can pull but has no other physical descriptions, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, translations available at end.

Word count: ~8.6k (whew sorry y’all)

A/N: it’s finally here! thank y’all so much for the love and support on this mini series! i grew up watching so many novelas and just love the messiness of them all. this truly is a love letter to them. i had tons of fun writing this! Javi will return! can’t promise he won’t be dumb in the future, but he’s here to stay 🫶🏼 not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

Divider by @saradika

The week goes by fairly smoothly after that fateful Tuesday, occupying your mind with books, novelas, and your date with Chris. You’ve only seen Javi in passing in the hall a few times this week, and all those times the two of you have completely avoided each other. Swerving around each other, or one of you staying behind to avoid the other. Javi grumbles something under his breath every time he sees you though, something he never did until the day he sent you flowers. Thank god you haven’t seen Cassandra, though.

It’s finally the big day: Friday. You wake up in a good mood for the first time this week, until you see the clock. You’re late for work. Springing out of bed, you rush to get ready. You throw some bread in the toaster and hurry to get dressed. Running back into the kitchen, you scarf down the toast and pick up the orange you’d bought earlier in the week - the one Chris gave you. You stuff it into your purse and slip on your sneakers. Grabbing your keys, you sprint to work.

Thankfully, your shift flies by in a flash and you’re able to leave on time. With 4 hours before you have to meet with Chris, that’s more than enough time to get ready. With a spring in your step, you walk home giddy with anticipation for later tonight. You unlock the entrance and rush up the stairs, your feet quickly carrying you to your apartment. Flinging the door open, you kick off your shoes and waltz into the bathroom. You take a quick shower, wanting to wash away the work day and freshen up.

You take your time getting ready, your records playing throughout your home. Applying your makeup, you pat on foundation and some mascara. Rummaging in your drawer, you find your favorite lipstick and swipe it on. Your lips glisten, looking absolutely delicious. You’re sure Chris will kiss you at the end of the night. Fixing up your hair, you open your closet and remove the red satin dress from the hanger. You slip it on and can’t help but do a twirl in the mirror, feeling sexy for the first time in a while. You throw on your usual jewelry and spritz on your favorite perfume, smelling delicious enough to devour. Running back into the kitchen, you grab the paper with the restaurant name and address and go to tuck it into your purse.

Soon enough, you glance at the clock and see you have to meet Chris in 20 minutes. You slip on your heels, and step out of your apartment. Locking the door, you gingerly walk down the stairs and make your way out of the building. Walking half way down the street, you pull the slip of paper out of your piece and go over it one more time as you hail a taxi. 

One of the yellow cars pulls up next to you and you hop inside. The driver asks where to and you give him the name and address. He sets off on the journey and tells you it’s about a 10 minute drive. Thanking him, you gaze out the window. As you get closer to the restaurant, you pass by the embassy. Chills run down your spine, not having thought about Javi the entire day. Of course he would pop into your head 5 minutes before meeting your date.

Fidgeting with your nails and the zipper on your purse, you hold your breath the remainder of the car ride. At least he’s going out with Cassandra tonight, so you won’t be seeing him. The reminder forms a pit in your stomach, but also fills you with gratitude as you thank whatever god is out there that he won’t be running through your mind tonight.

The driver pulls up in front of the restaurant, it’s more upscale than you had anticipated and nerves bubble in your belly. You exit the taxi, thanking the driver. The nerves dissipate once you catch a glimpse of Chris, who’s standing outside the restaurant with his hands shoved into his pants pockets. He spots you and waves, jogging to meet you halfway. “Hey, pretty lady,” he greets you, giving you a polite, warm hug. “Hi, handsome,” you say, smiling as you pull back from his embrace. He holds his hand in yours and drinks you in.

“Wow. You look… stunning,” he nearly whispers, as he twirls you around. You giggle at his reaction, the way he shows you off. You feel good, appreciated, wanted. “Thank you, I was hoping you’d like the dress,” your voice timid as you toy with his fingers. “Like it? I love it,” he says, pulling you flushed against his chest. The energy shifts and tension rises as you two lock eyes, until a honk pulls the two of you out of the trance making the two of you pull back.

Chris clears his throat and holds his hand out for you. “Shall we?” Another giggle streams from your lips. “Yes, we shall,” you tell him as you weave your fingers together. He leads you inside the restaurant and to the host’s table. Chris gives the waiter his name - you’re taken aback by his Spanish speaking abilities, grinning and tucking away that information for later.

The waiter leads the two of you to your table. Chris pulls your chair out for you. “Thank you,” you say, giving him a small smile. He smiles back and his eyes twinkle. You soak him in as he settles in his chair opposite of you. He’s handsome and polite, and has a lot going for him. He’s funny, smart, driven - so what’s the harm in giving him a chance?

The small talk between the two of you is easy. Almost as easy as it is with Javi. No - no. You shut down any further thoughts of him immediately. 

“So, how was your day?” You ask Chris. He tells you about his day, prompting your next question. “What do you do for work?” You ask as he wraps up his previous answer. “Oh, I work for the government,” he says, his answer being very vague. You quirk your brows, and smirk at him. “Is that how you know Spanish?” He chuckles at your question. “It is actually! Learned some before I moved here and just picked up more as I adapted to working and living here.” You hum at his answer, sipping your drink. “So you work for the government. What exactly do you do?” You ask before going in for another sip. “Well, I can’t exactly get into the specifics, but I work at the embassy,” he says. You choke on your drink, coughing as you try to catch your breath.

“Are you alright?” Chris asks, grabbing your hand and sliding your glass of water towards you. You nod, as your breathing levels out. “I’m okay,” you lie. Your blood feels frigid at the mention of the embassy.

There’s no fucking way he knows Javi. That just can’t be possible.

You sip your water, before speaking. “I was just really impressed,” you say in between chuckles. “That’s awesome that you work there! How has work been?”

Chris enthusiastically answers your question, you feign interest as you try to refocus your mind on the conversation. As Chris drones on about something that happened at work, something catches your eye from behind him. Your breath hitches and your jaw goes slack ever so slightly, taking in the scene in front of you. Javi stands there, looking handsome as ever with his aviators perched on his nose. Cassandra dressed in red, as his large hand rests on her hip. Chris catches your change in demeanor. 

“Is everything alright?”’ He asks, reaching to place a gentle touch on your forearm. That snaps you out of it, startling as your eyes widen. “What? Oh, yeah, sorry. Thought I saw someone I knew for a second,” you huff. 

Chris turns to look behind him, a smile lighting up his face. “Oh speaking of work, that’s my boss right over there - the guy with the sunglasses, standing next to the woman in the red dress.”

Your eyes bug out of your head. “That’s your boss?” He nods, “yup, that’s Javier. We both work at the embassy together.” he whispers, in fear of being heard. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mumble, gaze falling to the floor. “What was that?” 

Your head snaps up, trying your best to act surprised. “You’ve gotta be kidding me, that’s so impressive that you get to work alongside him! You didn’t tell me you were DEA,” you squeak, feigning interest in the conversation. “How do you know he’s DEA?” Chris asks. “Huh?” “How do you know he’s DEA? I didn’t say anything about what department we work in,” he says flatly.

You freeze, feeling flustered as you try to come up with an answer. “Oh… uh, w-well, I mean, wasn’t he in a bunch of n-newspapers last year? Right? I, uh, kinda figured. Just put two and two together,” you lie, trailing off the end.

It’s silent at the table, you and Chris just staring at each other. You hope he can’t see through your facade. You wipe your sweaty palms on your dress and fidget with your fingers. Chris clears his throat and takes a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, you’re right. He was,” he says with a small smile. You can’t gauge his reaction, making your palms even sweatier.

Moving on from the awkward moment, Chris resumes his enthusiastically retelling of his workday. You silently breathe out a sigh of relief, grateful to be moving on from that subject. You feel a little guilty for not focusing on him, your eyes continuously glancing over at Javi.

Javi looks over to the side as he waits for the waiter to seat them, looking around the restaurant in the meantime, holding Cassandra, his date. He does a double take as he spots you, not believing his eyes. His brows scrunch together, a scowl now plastering his face with his breathing growing ragged. 

Cassandra spins around in his hold. “Estás bien, Javi? Qué pasa?” His head whips around to meet her gaze. “Nada, Cassandra. Estoy bien. Me pareció ver a alguien que conozco,” he grits, trying his best to stay composed.

He never thought you’d stoop so low to go out with someone else, let alone one of his colleagues.

The waiter leads Javi and Cassandra to a table not too far from where you and Chris are sitting. You hold your breath, hoping Chris can’t sense your discomfort. With Chris’ back turned to him, Javi shoots Chris a death glare as he walks to the table, a hand on Cassandra’s waist. Cassandra stares daggers into your skull, surely you’d be dead if looks could kill.

Surprisingly, dinner goes by rather quickly, thanks to the three drinks you’ve had to calm your nerves. You learn that Chris is working on the Cali case, working directly alongside Javi. The third drink starts to take its toll on you, needing to break the seal. “I’m so sorry, I’m just gonna run to the restroom really fast. If you’ll excuse me,” you tell Chris, scraping your chair back and against the floor. “Of course, no problem,” he says nodding as you rise to your feet.

Unaware of your surroundings and fiddling with the straps on your purse, someone bumps into you. “Lo siento!” You say and look up to apologize to who you ran into. You make direct eye contact with Cassandra. The air is stolen from your lungs. Cassandra stares daggers into your skull, surely you’d be dead if looks could kill. “Disculpe,” she says coldly. Aggressively shoving her shoulder into yours, she walks past you and back to Javi at their table. Dumbstruck at her aggression, you turn back, mouth gaping wide. Javi catches your gaze in his, his eyes blown wide. Usually you’re able to tell what he’s thinking, but for the first time ever, you’re unable to read him.

Scoffing in disbelief, you stomp into the restroom and lock yourself in a stall. Tears sting your eyes as you fight them back. What the fuck was that about? How dare Cassandra treat you this way, who does she think she is? You did nothing to deserve that type of treatment. And if Javi saw that interaction, then fuck him for thinking that’s even remotely warranted.

Swiftly using the restroom and washing your hands, you touch up your lipstick that’s worn off throughout the night in the mirror. You let out a deep sigh as you toss it back in your bag, unaware that you were even holding your breath. Ready to go home, you trudge back out into the restaurant. Fighting the urge to steal a glance at Javi and Cassandra, relief floods you as you see they’re nowhere to be found. You waltz back to your table, the burning desire to go home still courses throughout your body.

Taking a seat across from Chris, you flash him a polite smile. He picks up on your discomfort, seeing right through your facade. “Are you okay? Did something happen?” You feel guilty for lying to him, but you just want to get the hell out of here. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just not feeling well, think the drinks gave me a headache,” you politely tell him through a tight smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, do you need anything?” His kindness deflates you more. “Actually, would it be alright if we get the check? I’m so sorry, I didn’t intend to cut our date short,” you tell him, genuinely apologetic.

“Yeah, sure. Don’t feel bad, shit happens. No worries, beautiful,” he reassuringly says as he grabs for your hand across the table and gives it a squeeze, making you smile. He flags the waiter down for the check, and the two of you wait in awkward silence. Thankfully, the waiter reappears shortly after and Chris covers the bill. The two of you rise from your seats, with Chris extending his hand out to you. You gladly accept and he guides you to the exit.

As he leads you out, your heart sinks as you spot Javi and Cassandra at the bar. You’re going to have to walk past them in order to leave, it’s inevitable. Ducking your head down, you cautiously walk through the crowd of the building with Chris in front of you. He stops in his tracks, causing you to stumble into him. He turns to steady you. “Sorry,” he mutters as he reaches for your hand again.

“Javier!” Chris shouts, waving to the man. Javi snaps his neck towards the two of you, rage quickly flashing in his eyes and it disappears just as fast. His jaw clenches as Chris walks the two of you over, your heart beating out of your chest.

“Hey, Feistl. Didn’t expect to see you here. Celebrating Gilberto’s capture?” Javi speaks through his clenched teeth. Cassandra is silently glaring at you from Javi’s side. “No, actually, I’m here on a date. This is my boss, Javier, the guy we were talking about earlier. Javier, this is my date,” Chris says, bringing you forward. Javi raises his brow at Chris’ words and you wish the Earth would open up and swallow you whole in this very moment. “Hi,” you shyly say, giving the pair your name and a polite wave, pretending you don’t know who these people are.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Javier,” he says, extending his hand out to go along with the act. “This is Cassandra,” he says as he lets your hand go. Chris cordially greets her, and vice versa. 

“Hola Cassandra, mucho gusto,” you say as you attempt to shake her hand. She just squeezes your hand in a vice grip, crushing it briefly before pulling away. “Hola,” is all she mutters. The energy between you four is tense, silence lingering despite being in a packed restaurant.

Picking up on the energy shift, Chris breaks the silence. “Well, it was nice seeing you, boss. See ya on Monday,” he says. You’re extremely grateful that he knows how to read a room. “Yeah. See you Monday. Bye, Feistl,” Javi grits. “Bye, Javi,” you tell him. “Bye,” Javi spitting your name and bidding you goodbye, like venom on his tongue. You don’t even bother to say anything to Cassandra as Chris bids her goodbye and leads you two out the restaurant.

You know Chris can sense something is wrong, your hand is so clammy in his that you yank it away as soon as the air of the warm night hits you. Taken aback by your sudden hastiness, he gives you a moment to breathe as you wipe your hands on your dress and fiddle with your purse.

“You okay?” Chris asks, grounding you back in reality. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine…” you unconvincingly tell him, not meeting his eyes while you rummage through your purse for your keys.

“You ready?” He asks after a beat. Your gaze snaps up to meet his, uncertainty evident in his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready,” you sigh. He doesn’t reach for your hand this time, instead offers you his arm, which you mindlessly accept as he leads you to his truck. He opens the door for you and flashes you a smile. He’s such a gentleman it hurts.

He jogs around to the driver’s side and hops in, twisting the key in the ignition. “Where am I taking you?” He kindly, and quietly asks. You give him your address and apologetically smile at him. The radio plays over the silence which lingers throughout the truck. He keeps both hands on the wheel as the awkward tension builds. The drive could not be fast enough.

Chris pulls up to your building, and kills the ignition. Bounding to your side, he opens the door and holds it open for you as you step out. “Thank you.” He just nods. Fuck.

He walks you to your door, his hands shoved in his pockets. The walk is short and silent, full of awkward tension. You hadn’t expected to see Javi on your date, let alone out with Cassandra. Despite your efforts, you couldn’t shake him out of your head, not after your interaction with Cassandra on your way to the restroom. Chris had picked up on your aloofness once you returned from the bathroom. He’s a detective, of course he knows when something’s up.

“Well, this is me,” you say pointing to your door. Javi cracks his door open across from you, peering into the hall. He pauses to take in the sight in front of him. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. “I’m sorry for cutting it short. This was not what I meant when I said maybe we’d end up back at my place,” you tell him. He smiles for the first time in what feels like eternity.

“Don’t worry, beautiful. I’d rather you feel 100% when we’re together,” he says, unsure if there’s another layer to his words - a shady double entendre. As if he can peek inside your mind, he quickly reassures you. “I truly did enjoy your company though. I’d love to see you again sometime, once you’re feeling better… if you’d let me,” Chris says. 

Glancing to the side, you unexpectedly spot Javi. You thought he would still be on his date. You keep your composure this time though and smile at Chris. “Sure, I’ll let you know,” glancing to the side again, making eye contact with Javi. Chris leans in for a good night kiss, but you don’t feel right doing that to him. You dodge him, opting for a kiss on the cheek instead. Pulling back, you give him a meek smile. “Call me,” he says, embarrassed and flushed red. You nod. “Good night.” 

He doesn’t notice Javi hiding behind the door as he walks away, never bothering to glance to the side. You watch Chris walk away and turn to go inside, until you see that Javi is standing in the hall now, in front of his door. Looking directly at him, you still - the tension so palpable, it needs to be cut with a hacksaw.

Javi’s nostrils flare as his chest heaves. His neck and face flushed red with his eyes blown wide and black. He looks almost unrecognizable. You narrow your eyes and shoot daggers at him.

His jaw clenches as he turns to go inside his apartment. You can’t help, but scoff and roll your eyes. He freezes in place, whipping around to look at you. “Is there something you’d like to say, cariño?” He bites, you’re taken aback by his coldness. You don’t let him see that though and straighten before turning to him. “Nope. Have a good night, Javier,” you say, spinning around to turn in for the night.

You shut the door before he can answer, huffing out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding, and lean against it. What a long fucking night. Padding into the bathroom, you remove your makeup and sigh into your towel. You stare at yourself in the mirror and bite back tears.

Shaking your head, you will yourself to not cry - refusing to shed tears for him. You walk out of the bathroom and into your room to change into a pair of thin sleep shorts and a tank top. Sauntering into the kitchen, you grab a glass from one of the cabinets. Opening the fridge, you reach for the open bottle of wine.

You fill your glass to the brim and chug half of it, slamming down the glass on the countertop. You drag your feet towards the living room, plopping down on the couch. Your head hangs in your hands as you curl into a ball.

“Javi!” You perk up at the sound of a woman calling his name. You move to press your ear against the thin wall that separates yours and Javi’s apartments. “Sí, Javi, sí!” Your brain is short-circuiting as you hear her moan Javi’s name. You can’t help but let your jaw fall open. Shocked that he’d be so bold to rub this in your face. Tears of anger and heartache well in your eyes. You attempt to storm off until you hear your name.

A man screaming your name - Javi screaming your name. Everything goes silent. Your ears are ringing and your body is hot, flooding with emotions as your head spins. There’s no way any of this is happening.

Suddenly, you hear shuffling and shouting from the hallway. Running to peer out of the small peephole at the top of your front door, your jaw drops again at the scene playing out in front of you. Cassandra, from that day, is fixing her clothes while screaming at a shirtless Javi in the hallway.

“Quien es ella, Javi?! Eh?! Esta su vecina?! O su puta?!” Cassandra screams, pushing him back a bit. “Ella es mi vecina y ya, Cassandra! Nada mas! Ven aqui, por favor!” Javi pleads. Rage courses through your body as he tells her you’re just his neighbor. You yank your door open, inserting yourself in the conversation since you’re the topic of it.

“No estoy solo tu vecina, Javier y lo sabes!” You bite, unable to stop yourself. The two of them whip their heads to you. “We’ll do this later,” Javi shouts in your direction. You stomp over to him before you realize your feet are moving.

“No, estamos haciendo esto ahora,” you tell him, gritting your teeth. Cassandra snaps her neck to look at you, burning a hole through the middle of your skull. “Te lo estas jodiendo eh?” She yells. “Sí, y por que te importa?” Javi’s eyes go wide at your blunt response. “No me importa con quien este jodiendo, pero quiero que me llaman con el nombre correcto. No soy una de tus putas, Javier,” she shouts.

“Cassandra, ya por favor! Y ella no es puta. Deja de llamarla asi,” Javi sighs. “Por que la defiendes eh? Ella es tu novia? No habria aceptado salir si hubiera sabido que tenias una novia,” Cassandra yells. “No, ella no es mi novia. Solo mi amiga y vecina. Deja de gritar,” Javi calmly says, attempting to de-escalate the situation. 

“Si ella no es tu novia, entonces por que te gritaste su nombre en la cama? Eh?” Javi’s attempt fails as Cassandra shouts. “No se, Cassandra! Pero lo siento. En realidad.” It’s quiet as Javi’s words settle in.

“Deberias haberla llamado en su lugar. Ella te gusta mas de yo,” Cassandra grits as she storms off, shaking with rage as embarrassed tears pool in her eyes.

The air is silent, thick with tension as you stand in front of Javi and his door.

“Really? I’m just your neighbor?” You spit through your gritted teeth, breaking the silence as your nostrils flare. “I only said that to calm her down,” Javi says. “What else did you tell her about me huh?!” Taking a step forward, inching closer to him. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Don’t act like you didn’t talk shit about me to her, Javier! Why else would she be so rude to me?!” He stands there, stunned and offended. “I would never say anything bad about you! How could you even think that?! I told her that you’re my best friend and neighbor, and that you’re very special to me,” he explains defensively. “Then why was she such a bitch to me then, Javier?!”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, cariño, but I wish you had told me! Otherwise, I would’ve stopped talking to her the minute I found out she treated you so cruelly,” Javi explains, sounding sincere.

“Would you really?!” You shout. “Yes! Why is that so hard to understand?!” 

A lump in your throat forms along with the next words on the tip of your tongue. “Because you lied!” You yell, swatting his chest, not caring that you’re causing a scene.

He grabs your wrists to stop you, forcing your gaze to meet his. “When did I lie?! I’d never lie to you,” he says firmly as he looks into your eyes. Your throat burns as the lump in your throat grows bigger, tears stinging your eyes. “When did I lie to you, cariño?” He asks softly. “You said you weren’t seeing anyone else,” you whisper. “I wasn’t.” You roll your eyes, your tears nearing the edge. “Until Cassandra,” her name tastes bitter in your mouth.

“You said you weren’t seeing anyone else either and then I see you on a date with my fucking coworker, at that. You don’t have the right to be mad at me for seeing Cassandra,” he says firmly.

You burst into sarcastic, maniacal laughter. “What’s so funny?” He lets your wrists go as you throw your head back while laughing, stray tears escaping down your cheeks. “You do not get to throw that in my face!” You laugh bitterly. “Why?! You shut me out the whole goddamn week because I asked out someone else!” He barks, making you groan. “God, Javi! You’re so infuriating!” 

“Says you, who went out with my coworker to spite me!” You roll your eyes at his pettiness. “You think I knew he was your coworker?!” You screech. He scoffs, his chest flushed red. “Yes! Why else would you go out with him?” He yells, jealousy coursing through his veins. “I don’t have to explain myself to you! You’re the one who asked out Cassandra after telling me you weren’t seeing anyone else!”

“You asked me and I told you the truth. I only asked Cassandra out after you said we could still see other people,” he rasps. “So am I not enough for you?! Why did you go out with Cassandra?! Huh?!” 

“Of course you’re enough for me! More than enough!” His words send more tears spilling from your eyes. “Then why did you go out with Cassandra?!” You shout through your tears, voice hoarse and raw from yelling. 

Javier’s heaving fills the heavy silence as his nostrils flare. “I think you know why, carino…” he rasps. “I don’t. We’re grown adults, Javier. Use your words,” you demand, growing more impatient by the second.

“I didn’t want to fuck up our friendship! I want you so bad it hurts, baby. You don’t deserve someone like me, cariño. Someone who’s fucked up and damaged, someone who’s done horrible fucking things for his own personal gain. You deserve better.” An endless stream of tears pours from your eyes again as you take in his words. “You don’t get to decide what I do and don’t deserve, even if you think it’s for the best. That’s my decision to make.”

“I never want to see the people I love get hurt, and I just know I would hurt you. I’m not a good person and you’re so good, baby. So good. And I could feel myself falling more and more in love with you every time I saw you, even when we were just spending time together. It’s why I pulled away and asked Cassandra out. To move on, to not get you involved in my shit.” 

Your eyes bug out of your head. “You’re in love with me?” You ask, your voice hushed. “Of course I’m in love with you, cariño,” he huffs in disbelief without hesitation. “I’m in love with you too,” you whisper through your tears. “You shouldn’t be. You should be with a good guy, someone like Chris, someone with a good head on his shoulders. I already burden you with so much in our friendship, I can’t do that to you if we were together, bebita,” he whispers, head hanging low. You cup his face in his hands, forcing him to look at you.

“Hey. You are not a burden. You’re my favorite person ever, and I’m always going to be here for you, because I love you. I’m in love with you, Javier. I want you - not Chris, not anyone else. You.”

He doesn’t say anything, only sighing at your words. Worry builds in your stomach, nerves setting in. Without warning, he mirrors your actions and cups your face with his large, rough hands and draws you into him. Your lips crash into each other’s. The kiss is ravenous and desperate - the first real kiss the two of you share. It’s heavy and messy, but so full of love and lust as teeth clash together. You moan as Javi sucks your tongue in between his lips.

Your hands roam to the back of his neck, pulling at the hair on his nape. He groans, pressing his hard, clothed cock into you. He moves his hands from your face to your waist, grinding against you. Completely forgetting that the two of you are still in the hallway. Javi fumbles with the door knob, never letting you go as he struggles to get the door open. The two of you stumble inside his apartment as the door flings open.

He shuts the door as he carefully, but hurriedly guides you inside. He leads you down the hall towards his bedroom, all without breaking the kiss. You finally pull back right before you reach the bedroom door, gasping for air as your lips glisten with spit. Javi doesn’t relent though, peppering kisses all along your neck and nipping at your chin. You moan, fighting to keep your eyes open at his intoxicating touch.

“Why’d you go out with Chris, baby? Hmm?” He asks, placing another kiss on your lips. You hum into his mouth. “Were you trying to make me jealous? Is that it?” He asks in between kisses. You nod in response. “Mmm mm. Like you told me earlier. Use your words, bebita,” he rasps, nipping at your chin. “Yes, Javi. Saw you with Cassandra, got so mad and Chris asked me out. Knew it’d make you mad if you saw us together,” you gasp as he moves to suck on your neck.

“Did you know we worked together?” He asks into your skin. “Mmm mm, no, Javi. Just a coincidence. I promise, baby.” He smiles at your words, fuzziness filling his chest. “Well your plan worked, baby. Pissed me the fuck off seeing him touching what’s mine,” he growls before crashing his lips back onto yours. You moan into the kiss, his words sending a flurry of butterflies to your tummy, and a wave of arousal to your core. Clenching around nothing at his words, you can feel your slick pool in your panties.

He flings the bedroom door open, the two of you tumbling inside with your lips still molded to one another’s. Javi walks you to the bed, your knees hitting the edge. You fall onto the plush mattress, the kiss having been broken. Panting in anticipation, you catch Javi’s gaze. His eyes are black, blown wide with lust and there’s a small glint in his eye - a glint of love.

You spread your legs, welcoming him into the space. He grunts as he dives on top of you, hungrily kissing you again. Javi teasingly fiddles with the hem of your thin sleep shorts, your nipples already taut against the sheer fabric of your tank top. Cupping your sex in one of his large hands, you moan at the sensation.

“You want me here, querida? Huh?” He growls into your mouth as he feels the wet patch that’s formed on your panties and soaked through your shorts. “Yes, Javi. Need you, Javi, missed you so much,” you keen under him, your eyes heavy and glazed over. “Missed you so much too, bebita,” he says, lips grazing over yours. “Can feel how wet you are, bebita. This all for me? Tell me who it’s all for, baby.”

“Yes, all for you, Javi. It’s all for you,” you moan. “That’s right. All for me. Not for Chris, right?” He snarls against your lips, as he takes off the tank top that covers your chest. He sucks a nipple into his mouth. Your eyes fly open, inhaling a sharp gasp at the feeling. A new wave of arousal shoots straight to your aching cunt. He grunts as he bites your nipple, silently telling you to answer his question.

You gulp, mustering the strength to answer him. “All for you, only you. Not anyone else. Yours, it’s yours. I’m yours,” you babble as he latches his mouth onto your other mound, humming in delight at your answer with his lips wrapped around your nipple.

He pulls up for air, looking into your eyes as he sucks two of his fingers into his mouth. You whine as you watch him. “That’s right, baby. Mine. You’re all mine,” he growls as he releases his fingers from his mouth. Without warning, he shoves them into your soaked cunt. Your hips buck up into them, him pushing them down with his free hand and pinning you in place.

A stream of high-pitched moans tumble from your lips as he hooks his longer, thick fingers into your g-spot with every stroke. He groans as you clench around his fingers, leaning in to sink his teeth into your neck. “Feels so fu-fucking good, Ja-Javi,” you whine. He hums as he delicately soothes the bite with his tongue. He works his way up your neck and nibbles on your earlobe.

“I know you’re close, bebita. Come on. Damelo, bebita. Cum all over my fingers, want you to make a mess on them,” he rasps in your ear, eliciting another whine from you. His fingers continue to brush against your g-spot as he moves his thumb to your clit, stroking it. You gasp, clenching hard around his fingers as he strokes your clit. Suddenly, you tumble off the cliff and plummet into your orgasm. Your cunt gushes all over Javi’s hand, making a mess on the sheets. He groans as he feels your slick run down his fingers and onto his arm, spotting the puddle forming underneath you.

“Fuck, baby. Good fuckin’ girl,” he huskily whispers in your ear as he helps you ride out the waves of your high. You convulse underneath him, hips bucking uncontrollably. Your clit puffy and swollen as he continues to gingerly stroke it. He removes his fingers from your soaked cunt, sucking them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, feeling heady as you see him relish in your taste. Mindlessly grinding his clothed cock against your exposed cunt, the both of you groan at the friction.

You hurriedly fumble with the button on Javi’s jeans, clumsily pulling them down and setting his cock free of the confines of his tight jeans. He pulls back and shucks them off completely, you both now fully stark naked in the dim light of his bedroom. Thankful for the light breeze that travels through the open window, your hair begins to stick to the back of your neck as you lay on the plush mattress.

Drinking him in as he towers over you at the edge of the bed, your mouth salivates as you catch sight of his angry, red cock - his tip leaking dribbles of precum. Eager to taste him, you rise to your knees and crawl to him. A small smirk grows on his lips as he feels your hands roam up and down his body, lingering around his thighs. “Que estas haciendo, querida?” Javi rasps quietly, his lips ghosting over yours. Your hand slowly makes its way down to his cock. “Nada, papi. No puedo tocar lo que es mio?” You tease, grasping his cock in your hand, gathering precum on your hand as you run your hand along his hard length.

A gasp escapes Javi, groaning as he’s taken by surprise by the sudden sensation, by your words. A fire ignites deep within Javi, a primal urge rising to the surface. He swats your hand away, as he steadies his breathing. You giggle as you suck the precum off your fingers, having dribbled into your hand as you palmed Javi. You hum at the taste - salty, musky, a hint of bitterness. He growls at the taunting show you put on for him, grabbing you by the waist and tossing you back on the bed, eliciting a yelp from you. Gripping your hips, he flips you on all fours.

Fully on display for him now, Javi parts your legs with his knee. You collapse deeper into the mattress, balancing yourself on your forearms. “Don’t be a brat now, baby. Sabes qué les pasa a las mocosas cuando se portan mal?” He asks from behind you. Slick pools in between your thighs at his words. “Sí papi, por eso estoy actuando como una mocosa,” you courageously tell him.

This is a new side of Javi, one you’ve never seen before. A possessive, animalistic side you’ve managed to unlock tonight. A sudden delicious smack strikes your ass, moaning at the stinging sensation as it sends a tingle to your core.

His large, rough hands roam around your ass, soothing the spot where he struck you. A thick finger teases your tight, puckered hole. Gasping as Javi swirls circles around the ring, more slick seeping from your folds.

“Brats get fucked in the ass. Wanna get fucked here, baby?” He says, one of his fingers prodding at your hole. You furiously nod, Javi amused by your eagerness. “Of course you’d let me fuck this hole, querida. You’d let me fuck all your holes, wouldn’t you, baby?” He asks, placing a kiss near where his hand teases your hole.

Whining at his teasing, your cunt clenches around nothing as you imagine Javi filling you up, owning every hole of yours. An abrupt smack to your ass pulls you from your thoughts. “Yes, Javi! Let you do whatever you want to me, baby. I’m yours,” you whimper. He chuckles, soothing the spot where he had struck you.

“Another time, baby. Right now, I need to taste you, bebita,” he murmurs huskily. He moves underneath you, positioning his face right at your entrance. He inhales sharply at your scent, your pheromones intoxicating him, like a drug.

“Want you to ride my face, bebita,” he snarls, the warmth from his breath ghosting over your lips and sending a shiver down your spine. The air is stolen from your lungs, nerves setting in as the energy shifts in the room. You push yourself up to your knees and peer down to look at where Javi is situated.

Sudden self-consciousness setting in. “Javi, we’ve never done that before,” you tell him, trailing off at the end. As if he can read your mind, he presses a soft kiss to your thigh. “You could never hurt me, bebita, if that’s what you’re thinking. And if I suffocate from eating your pussy, then I’ll die a happy man. Come on, baby. Let me make you feel good. It’s the least I can do for being a dumbass this past week,” he says. “Well when you put it that way…” you joke, a small smile displaying on your lips. He presses a light, playful tap to the side of your thigh, evoking a laugh from you. He chuckles as he litters gentle kisses to your inner thighs, his mustache eliciting more laughter from you as it tickles your skin.

“Wanna make you feel good, baby,” he whispers as he kisses your core, actively avoiding your clit and your folds. “Mmmm, fuck, Javi, you always makes me feel so good,” you sigh as you wiggle around trying to settle yourself on top of his face without putting all your weight on him.

He senses your apprehension and grips your hips, settling you onto his face. His strong nose nudges your clit, making you moan. “Sit this pretty pussy on my face, hermosa. Wanna taste you,” he mumbles, his voice muffled against your sex.

He licks a long stripe up your folds, a broken moan escaping you as your hips jerk forward. The strength you were using to ghost over his face has disappeared, completely settling yourself onto him and squeezing his head with your thighs as he fucks his tongue into your entrance.

Javi moans into you, the feeling of having all of you on top of him causes more precum to drip from the slit of his head. He makes his way to your clit, flicking it relentlessly before he sucks it into his mouth. You whine at the way his plush lips wrap around your swollen bud, sloppily grinding into his face as you begin to chase your high. He releases your clit and prods his tongue in and out of you again.

Whatever self-consciousness you had earlier has vanished. The only thing on your mind right now is Javi, Javi, Javi.

Bouncing on his face, you ride his tongue as his nose nudges your clit. The combination of his nose, his mouth, his sounds - it’s all too much. Javi lets out a guttural groan as he feels you clench around his tongue. Sloppily making his way to your clit, he finishes you off the second he sucks your bud back into his mouth.

Your vision goes spotty as flashes of white burst from the corners of your eyes as black spots float all around you. A choked out cry burns from within your throat as you ride out your orgasm onto Javi’s face. He wastes no drop of your release, lapping and slurping the absurd amount of slick that continuously flows from your used cunt. Your legs shake as your strength diminishes, struggling to hold yourself up. Collapsing forward a bit, you land on your forearms and shove your face into the mattress as you twitch on top of Javi, who’s still drinking you up.

Your breathing is ragged and unsteady, small gasps falling from your parted lips. Javi places tender kisses to your mound, giving your used clit some relief. He carefully lifts your lower half of him as he wriggles out from underneath you and gently places you back on the bed, laying you completely flat on your stomach now. Your body relaxes as you come down from your high.

You feel the bed dip behind you as Javi kneels behind you and presses his bare body against yours. His leaking cock smearing precum on your ass as he gently caresses your arms, peppering kisses to the nape of your neck.

“So good for me, querida. Always so good, baby,” he whispers in your ear before pressing a kiss to your sweaty cheek. Still reeling from your second orgasm, the feeling of his hard cock against your ass has you mewling under him again. He flips you over, still propped up on his knees as he crashes his lips onto yours. Javi grinds his cock onto your sex and lightly brushes over your sensitive clit. “Javi,” you mewl, pulling back as tears well in your eyes.

“Fucking love the sounds you make for me, bebita. So fucking sexy, love that I’m the only who gets to hear them, only one who can get them out of you,” he babbles. You can’t help the moan that bubbles over, his words spur you on as you moan into his mouth.

“More, Javi, more. Please, baby. Need you,” you plead into his mouth as you grind against him, meeting his strokes halfway. “What do you need, bebita, eh? Que necesitas?” He teasingly asks. “You, Javi! Need you, your big cock, baby. Need you to fill me up,” you huff out frustratedly. A smirk plasters his face.

“I got you, querida, don’t worry,” he murmurs. He reaches for his nightstand, opening the drawer and fumbling around for a condom. “Wait,” you say, stopping him. He pauses, brows scrunched in a concerned scowl. “I’ve been on the pill for a while now, and if you’re clean… maybe we don’t gotta use one,” you meekly whisper, barely audible as you grow timid at your words.

He softens, flashing a boyish grin at you. “I’m clean, querida. Ca- she was the only person I technically slept with since we started our agreement and I used protection. I’ll only do this if you’re sure though,” he explains. It’s your turn to flash him a shy smile.

“I want this, Javi. I wanna feel all of you. Wanna feel what’s mine,” you mutter. A flip switches inside Javi. He slams the drawer shut and is back on you in seconds, his lips ferociously capturing yours in another heated kiss.

Pants fill the air as he prods your entrance with his angry, red tip. He enters your weeping cunt in one swift motion, gliding in easily with the combination of his precum and your slick. An obscene squelch rings in the air.

The two of you moan loudly into each other’s mouths. The familiar delicious sting sets in despite being prepped for him. He’s so big that he kisses your cervix in one thrust. “S-so fucking big, hah, Javi. Always f-feel so f-fucking good, baby,” you cry out. “Fuck, bebita! Feel so fucking good, letting me fuck you raw,” he grumbles, his pace slowly picking up as he crashes into your g-spot with each stroke.

He’s so deep it feels like he’s in your stomach.

He grabs your thighs, hiking them up and pulls you even closer - if that’s possible. He throws your legs over both his shoulders, pushing him in deeper than before. You scream at the new angle - the newfound pleasure. A fire simmers in your belly, waiting to explode.

Yes, the two of you have hooked up before, but this time is different - better. You love each other - are in love with each other. The thought sends a wave of slick dripping from your cunt.

Catching a glimpse of him, you lock eyes with each other as he relentlessly thrusts into you. He strokes your g-spot with every move.

“So fucking gorgeous, all fucking mine. Mine, baby, you’re mine,” he grits. “Yours, Javi. All yours, I love you, Javi,” you keen, gasping for air as he brings you closer to the edge.

He moans at your words, throwing his head back as he feels your orgasm approaching. “I love you, baby. God, I fucking love you, never letting you go ever again,” he heaves. You wail at his words as they fan the flames that burn in your tummy, clenching as tears stream from your eyes.

“Let go for me, querida. I got you, amor. Let go, baby,” he mutters as he delivers one particularly hard, sloppy punch to your g-spot. A sob escapes you as you’re launched into a pit of darkness, body and mind feeling fuzzy as your soul floats around somewhere. All that rings through the air is just Javi. His face, his words, him. A sensation you can’t explain, simply just Javi.

A loud, guttural groan brings you back down to Earth. Javi chases his release as you return to reality.

“Querida, where do you want me?” He hastily asks as he sloppily thrusts into you. The high of your orgasm still lingering, making you mildly incoherent and extremely sensitive. “Baby, I’m close. Where do you want me?”

“Inside, Javi. Inside,” you groan. That’s all it takes for him to coat your fluttering walls with his release, you moan as you feel his warm load fill you up. He snaps his hips into yours, groaning with each stroke. He peppers gentle kisses to your calves as he softens inside you, his hair stuck to his forehead.

Ragged breathing fills the air, along with the smell of cum and sweat. He sets your legs down and groans as he pulls out of you, while you pliably lay there - your whole body having turned into jelly. Leaning down, he settles himself on top of you and captures your lips in a gentle kiss. You trace circles on his back as you mold your lips to his. Breaking the kiss, he rests his sticky forehead on top of yours.

“Hi,” he whispers. “Hi,” you repeat, a dopey smile adorning your face. “You went somewhere, didn’t you?” Your brows scrunch in confusion, opening your mouth to ask for clarification until he beats you to it.

“Right when you finished, you went somewhere. Never seen you so happy before,” he quietly rasps. A sheepish smile makes its way onto your face. “I did. It was like I was floating, but I don’t know where. All I know is that you were the only thing on my mind,” you timidly whisper. He breaks out into a huge toothy grin.

“Oh yeah? The only thing on your mind, huh?” He smugly asks. You playfully swat his shoulder. “You just got back on my good side, don’t ruin it again, Javi,” you tease, but Javi’s demeanor noticeably shifts. His smile disappears and his gaze is avoidant.

“Hey,” you frown. “I’m just joking, baby. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, looking away at the wall. “No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry, baby. Shouldn’t have done what I did. Was stupid of me to do instead of just talking about things,” he mutters.

You cup his cheeks. “Hey. I also could’ve done better too. I should’ve just tried talking to you about what was bothering me instead of pushing you away.”

“But you had every right to push me away,” he says. You shake your head this time. “I was the one who said we could see other people just because I was scared to be rejected. I definitely should’ve just communicated with you,” you explain, your gaze looking at the corner of the ceiling, avoiding his gaze now.

“What I did was still fucked up though. I had a feeling I knew why you asked me and I did that any way all because I was scared. I’d have never rejected you if you told me what I know now.” His words cause a smile to breakout onto your face. “I know that now, but I just wish we would’ve set some rules or at least talked about these things earlier in the year when we first started seeing each other.”

Silence settles amongst you two, both of you unsure what to say. “We were pretty stupid, weren’t we, querida?” Javi asks, breaking the silence as you two lock eyes. You burst into a fit of giggles, eliciting a belly laugh from Javi. “We were, but going forward, let’s agree to just talk to each other about anything and everything, including things that are bothering us. Okay?” You say cupping his cheeks.

“Okay. Agreed,” he sigh. Flashing him a tired smile on your face, your eyes flit to his lips as he flashes you his million dollar smile. He leans in and firmly, but tenderly presses his lips against yours.

“I love you, querida,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. “I love you too,” you say, smiling into the kiss.

Translations:

Me parecio ver a agluien que conozco - I thought I saw someone I knew

Disculpe - excuse me

Quien es ella, Javi?! Eh?! Esta su vecina?! O su puta?! - Who is she, Javi? Your neighbor or your bitch?!

Ella es mi vecina y ya, Cassandra! Nada mas! Ven aqui, por favor! - She's my neighbor and that's it, Cassandra, nothing more! Come here, please!

No estoy solo tu vecina, Javier y lo sabes - I'm not just your neighbor Javier and you know it.

No, estamos haciendo esto ahora - No, we're doing this now

Te lo estas jodiendo eh? - You guys are fucking huh?

Sí, y por que te importa? - Yes and why do you care?

No me importa con quien este jodiendo, pero quiero que me llaman con el nombre correcto. No soy una de tus putas, Javier - I don't care who he fucks, I just want to be called the right names. I'm not one of your whores, Javier

Cassandra, ya por favor! Y ella no es puta. Deja de llamarla asi - Enough, please! And she’s not a whore, stop calling her that

Por que la defiendes eh? Ella es tu novia? No habria aceptado salir si hubiera sabido que tenias una novia - Why are you defending her? Is she your girlfriend? I never would’ve agreed to go out with you if I knew you had a girlfriend

No, ella no es mi novia. Solo mi amiga y vecina. Deja de gritar - No she’s not my girlfriend. She’s only my friend and my neighbor. Stop yelling

Si ella no es tu novia, entonces por que te gritaste su nombre en la cama? - If she’s not your girlfriend then why did you yell her name in bed?

No se, Cassandra! Pero lo siento. En realidad - I don’t know Cassandra but I’m sorry. Really

Deberías haberla llamado en su lugar. Ella te gusta mas de yo - You should’ve called her instead. You like her more than me

Que estas haciendo, querida - What are you doing?

Nada, papi. No puedo tocar lo que es mio? - Nothing, daddy. I can’t touch what’s mine?

Sabes qué les pasa a las mocosas cuando se portan mal? - You know what happens to brats when they misbehave?

Sí papi, por eso estoy actuando como una mocosa - Yes, papi, that’s why I’m acting like a brat

Que necesitas? - What do you need?

and that’s the end of my first ever series! this was very fun to write, all the drama was so indulgent to write! thank you to everyone for following along and supporting my mini series! 🩷

this isn’t the end of Deja Vú, these two will return! 🫶🏼

tag list: @undrthelights @gracieheartsspedro @jenispunk @nostalxgic @mandoisapunk @party-hearses @bastardmandennis @tinygarbage @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @daydreamingmiller @javierpena-inatacvest @chaotic-mystery @amanitacowboy @factualfic @pascalpvnk @joeldjarin @kirsteng42 @pedrohoe04 @callmecath1 @sydneyinacoma @persephone-girl @suagmiller @honey-dip-24 @lizlil @thevoiceinyourheadx @harriedandharassed @xthejazzdalorianx @antifragilejpn @evangelinemedici @innerpersonunknown @vickie5446

#javier peña narcos #javier peña fic #fic: deja vu #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña #javi peña #javi p

[rafeandonlyrafe]

life of a race car drivers wife

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, quickie

you run down the pitlane towards the podium, following closely behind his team in all red. you watch in awe of your husband as he pulls his car into the number one spot. the team members let you push to the front, pressing yourself against the fence as he gets out of the car, throwing his arms up in the air as the crowd cheers.

you let out a loud cheer as he jumps into the awaiting crowd of mechanics, engineers, and strategist that all pat him wildly on the back and helmet. he pauses to give the team principal a firm handshake. you see tears in some of their eyes. this is so much more than a race win, it’s a championship win, both for the driver (your husbands first) and the teams constructors championship.

your husband pulls off his helmet and then his balaclava. you watch as the camera flashes increase, listening to the shutter sound triple. you smile at him as his eyes scan down the metal fencing to find you.

“baby.” rafe breaths out, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and tugging you as flush to his body as he can with the fence in the way. “i’m so proud of you.” you sniffle, holding back your urge to cry as you press your face into his race suit. 

“couldn’t have done it without you.” rafe says, taking your jaw into his hand and tipping your face, pressing your lips together. you know that the picture is going to be posted all over the internet, but you don’t care as you let him deepen the kiss, showing a bit too much passionate if it wasn’t for the fact that he just won the championship.

“i love you.” you tell rafe as he pulls away, knowing he can’t stay much longer, that he has to go to post race interviews, receive his trophy on the podium, spray champagne, and then all the media and team duties after that. 

by the time you finally get rafe alone, he’s in his drivers room, finally getting a moment to shower and change, to take a breath in peace as he processes the emotions of the championship, what he’s worked so hard all season long for, spending countless hours in the gym and on the racing simulator, pushing his body and his car to the maximum every race weekend.

“how are you feeling?” you ask with a giggle as rafe sits down on his massage table, resting his head back against the wall.

“i think the only time i’ve ever felt like this is the first time i fucked you.” rafe says, making you laugh and slap him on the thigh.

“come here.” rafe says, beckoning you to sit next to him, but you take your preferred place, pulling yourself onto his lap so you’re straddling him.

you run your hands through his hair, fixing it despite the sweat and champagne that is covering it, soon to be washed out when he takes his much desired shower.

“god, i kind of don’t want to go to the team party tonight.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your lips before resting his head against the wall again, exhausting from the hard battle on the track.

“you have to though, rafe.” you laugh, tugging at his race suit, opening them up and unzipping it so you can push it off his shoulders and down his arms. you bite your lip as you admire the way his fireproofs cling to his skin, showing off every groove of his body, his large pecs and defined abs. “besides, you’re going to get to the club and drink and dance with me, and you’re going to have fun. you can’t not celebrate a freaking world championship!” “i would just rather celebrate a different way.” rafe says, squeezing your hips down against him, giving you a smirk that you recognize.

“we could…” you say, grinding your hips forward. “we have enough time if we hurry.” “fuck.” rafe moans, and you feel him swelling underneath you. “get undressed, hurry.”

you smile and hop off his lap, rushing to pull your shirt off, bright red, to match rafes suit and racecar. you tug your jeans off next, cursing their tight fit as you struggle for longer than you’d like before getting them off. by the time you’re nude, rafe is undressed as well.

“come on.” rafe says, gesturing to the massage table. you nod and lean yourself over it, knowing rafe is going to get a knock on his door in about 15 minutes to hurry up and get finished with his shower.

he still takes a moment to drop to his knees behind you, spreading you skin and pushing his mouth in between your thighs, licking at your clit and then entrance to make sure you’re nice and ready for him, even though you’ve been wet since he overtook his teammate for the lead with 10 laps to go.

“favorite taste, better than the sweetest champagne.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your clit as you let out a low moan, trying not to sound too loud, knowing the walls are thin. “promise me i can taste you more later, when we have time.” rafe says. one of his favorite celebrations is to bury his head between your legs and not to come up until you’re literally crying. 

after his first race win, he made you cum on his tongue 10 times, the number of race starts that it took him until he was standing on the top step of the podium.

“of course, rafe.” you nod, feeling his hands squeeze your his before the head of his hard cock presses against your entrance. you press your face into the sheet covering the massage table, hoping it helps muffle your moan as he pushes inside.

he barely gives you a moment to adjust before his hips start snapping into yours, an obscene slapping noise filling the small room as his flesh meets the skin of you ass.

“this good baby?” rafe asks, wanting to make sure that the pace was okay. you nod, knowing you’re going to make sure he’s the focus right now, his pleasure, his celebration for the championship win.

you push your hands against the table to bring your body up, starting to gently rock back against him to meet his every thrust. “god, baby.” rafe mutters. “this is better than any trophy i’ve won.”

you start to meet his thrust in earnest, pushing back against him so you’re coming together is hard and deep, feeling only the slightest bit of discomfort inside of you as he uses your cunt.

you squeeze your pussy around him, clenching with every thrust, every time he pulls out before pushing back in, like you’re trying to keep him in forever, a luxury you know you don’t have, responsibilities and time bearing down on you.

rafe moves a hand from your hip to your front, rubbing at your clit with two fingers, trying his best to get you off while still moving harshly.

“yes, yes, yes.” you moan, bringing a hand to press over top of rafes, the one thats rubbing your pussy, so you can keep him there, letting him know you much you like it, how much you need it.

“baby, i’m close.” rafe says through gritted teeth.

“cum in me.” you moan out, knowing if anyone was close by they’d hear you, but you don’t care. besides, they’d probably understand. understand that you’re simply congratulating your husband on a spectacular race, in his name joining those of legend, going down in the history books forever. “cum in me, my world champion.”

that seems to spur rafe on to finish, becoming almost animalistic, not holding back his grunts as his cock swells inside of you, fingers moving almost unbearably fast against your clit.

“right there!” you shout, squeezing your eyes shut as the pleasure becomes too much, too good, overwhelming your senses. “right fucking there.” “god, i’m coming.” rafe moans out, and you feel it soon after his declaration, his release, inside of you, thick and warm, filling you as your orgasm soon takes over your body, rafes fingers never slowing as he works through his own high, hips grinding deliciously against your bum.

“staaa-stop, oh my god.” you eventually have to push rafes hand away as your clit pulses, becoming too sensitive for his pace. you press your fingers firmly against your clit, needing the pressure but not the stimulation. 

there’s a sudden knock on the door, making you jump, pussy clenching around rafes cock, making him groan out before he’s able to answer. “who is it?” “we’re almost ready for more photographs, are you finished?” they ask, the voice of his media rep clear as day through the shut door, making you realize even more how unmuffled the sound is.

“give me 10 minutes.” rafe calls back, giving you a slap on the bum as he pulls out of you.

“fine.” his rep sighs, “but actually 10 minutes, we’re waiting on you world champ.” “come on.” rafe says, tugging you towards the shower. “shower with me.”

you come out of the drivers room, both clean and redressed. rafes arm is around you, hand squeezing you against his body, trophy in his other hand as you re-enter the garage. once they notice rafe is back, they erupt into cheers, clapping for their world champion. rafe waves, and you duck away, knowing that you have to wait for you next moment with rafe, but that’s the life of a racing drivers wife.

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