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scuderiahoney · 4 months

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Tangerine

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist // Part 1 // Part 1.5 // Part 2

Summary: You’re definitely not an insomniac. But Oscar keeps finding you awake at all hours, and he’s starting to get worried. Or: I wrote this while actually being unable to sleep, passed out for 3 hours, woke up and finished it. So… here you go, I guess?

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: insomnia, anxiety/mild paranoia?, alcohol, limited knowledge of the actual structure of the MTC and the corporate structure of McLaren in general, a poorly researched night in Tokyo

The MTC lobby is empty, besides you. The lights are half turned off, motion sensors that have gone hours without detecting anything. You’ve stuck to your table in the corner. It’s quiet, just how you like it.

You look up from your notebook after who knows how long, blinking your weary eyes. Outside, the floodlights reflect off the inky black lake. There’s a car, pulling up in the drop off area outside the front doors. It’s Oscar, you think, his car one of a few that are easily recognizable. Sure enough, it’s confirmed when he climbs out of the driver’s side door. He leaves it running as he makes his way up to the door.

Oscar scans his pass and the doors swing open, followed by all of the lights in the lobby flickering on. You squint, fighting the urge to shield your eyes from the harsh lighting. Oscar is rushing through the lobby, a man on a mission, but he skids to a stop about halfway across the shiny tiled floor.

He turns, slowly, and makes eye contact with you. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

You hold back a laugh, thinking that might be a little mean, all things considered. “What are you doing here?”

He sighs, hands hanging at his sides. “I forgot my phone charger, and my laptop, and…” he pauses, frowning at you. “What are you doing here?”

You raise your brows right back. “Working?”

You watch his eyes flicker across your setup. You’re still in the same McLaren sweatshirt you’d been wearing when you saw him that morning. Your hair is piled atop your head. Your laptop sits open in front of you, the only source of light before Oscar burst through the doors. There are papers and notebooks scattered on the tabletop. Your pen is missing- you selfishly hope that as he scours your table, he’ll spot it.

“You got here at 8am,” he says, bewildered. “It’s almost midnight. That’s almost 16 hours.”

He says nothing about the pen. Why would he? He doesn’t know it’s missing. Logically, it must be here somewhere, probably under a paper or clipped to a notebook, but you’ve given up.

“Yes,” you answer, smirking. “You’re great at math, Oscar.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, home? Sleeping?”

You shrug. “I took breaks. It’s not like I’ve been working all day straight.”

You’re not lying. You’d taken a good, long lunch break, and an afternoon walk around the grounds. You’ve gotten up to stretch a couple times, made runs to the break room for coffee. You hope he doesn’t see straight through it, though. Hope he can’t see the dark circles under your eyes, the paleness of your skin, the exhaustion weighing your shoulders.

It’s not that you weren’t tired. You just knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep. One of those days. So instead, you had decided to be productive. Which had led to this- you in the lobby of your office building, hunched over a laptop. Oscar, the driver whose data you’re scouring, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Go grab your stuff,” you tell him, nodding towards the doors he’d been headed to. “You have an early flight tomorrow.”

He blinks wildly. “We’re on the same flight.”

You nod, because you both know this quite well. There’d been a meeting this morning about who had to be where and at what times. You’re on the first flight out with the main team, headed to Singapore.

“I’m not the one who has to drive the car at very high speeds this weekend,” you remind him, pointing the eraser of your pencil at him. “Or the one who has to be in front of the cameras. You need your beauty sleep.”

Oscar laughs at that, a happy sound that makes you smile, too. “Okay, okay. I’ll be right back.”

You think about disappearing to the bathroom or the break room while he’s gone, just to avoid any further questions. You know Oscar relatively well, though, and knowing him, he’d just wait around until you came back. Or worse, come and try to find you. You can picture it- you pouring your third cup of coffee in the last hour, Oscar watching from the doorway with disdain. You stay put, sipping from your mug and scribbling notes.

He’s back within a few minutes, a backpack in hand. His keys dangle from his fingertips. You don’t look up from your laptop as he walks towards you, that is until he’s standing right in front of you. You blink up at him through your lashes. There’s a frown on his face- this close, you know your lack of sleep must be obvious.

He nudges the top panel of your laptop with a single fingertip. “C’mon. Time to go home.”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, shaking your head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

“What, you just gonna stay here until we all meet up in the morning to go to the airport?” He scoffs.

“That would be ridiculous,” you laugh.

“It would,” he agrees. He seems to see straight through you, though. “Come on. Close the laptop, close the notebooks. You can work on this on the flight, like a normal person.”

“I’m trying to improve your car, you know.”

“I’m not leaving until you do,” he finally says, and you scoff with wide eyes. “And remember, I’m the one who has to actually drive the car. And go in front of the cameras. I need my beauty sleep.”

You rear your head back, unsure how to even counter that. He takes the opportunity to close the laptop for you, and you bat at his hands. Then he’s sweeping your papers into piles, stacking your notebooks and gathering them up into his arms.

“That’s my intellectual property, you know,” you scold him, reaching for the papers. He holds them up above your head easily, and you groan. “Okay, okay, I’ll go, just- I lost my pen, earlier. It’s my favorite one. I just have find it and then I promise I’ll go- you can go home, really, I’ll see you-“

He’s reaching for your head, suddenly, and you freeze. When his hand returns to your view, he’d holding the pen between his fingertips. You blink once, twice, then reach for it, but he’s holding it above your head within seconds, too.

“We’re leaving,” he tells you, firmly. “Come on. Up we go.”

You get to your feet reluctantly and pack your things into your bag. Oscar helps, handing you your papers in neat little piles. He keeps you in front of him as you both exit the lobby, like he’s afraid you might take off running further into the office building. His car is still parked out front, still running, and you see him wince.

“Didn’t expect to be inside for so long,” he says sheepishly.

You laugh lightly, starting your walk towards the employee lot. It’s down a well lit path, but every step feels heavy this late at night.

“Wait,” he says, and you pause. “Do you want a ride? You seem tired. You know, sometimes that’s as bad as driving drunk.”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep behind the wheel,” you tell him. You say it with confidence, because it’s pretty likely you’re not going to fall asleep at all tonight.

He cocks his head at you, cast in the bright glow of the floodlights. “At least let me drive you to your car. Otherwise, how do I know you’re not going to just go back inside?”

You roll your eyes. “And how do I know you’re not trying to kidnap me?”

You end up getting in the car, because he makes it pretty clear he’s not leaving until you do. You contemplate just walking to your own car, but honestly your feet feel so heavy it’s just not worth the fight. Oscar, to his credit, doesn’t kidnap you. He also doesn’t comment on your very modest car, the only one left in the parking lot. He does try to offer you a ride home one more time, but he lets it go after your repeat refusal.

You say goodbye, climb into your own car, and start the engine. The heat kicks on quickly, thank god, and you start up a playlist. It’s only when you look up, ready to leave, that you notice his car is still sitting there. You can just barely see Oscar behind the windshield, and he waves at you. He’s waiting for you to leave.

You flip him off as you roll out of the parking lot, and you watch him laugh in response.

…..

You’re one of the first ones at the office the next morning, and therefore one of the first ones on a shuttle to the airport. Oscar’s chronically late, or as he would call it, chronically precisely on time, so you don’t see him until he’s climbing on the plane. McLaren’s rented out a charter plane for this trip, with the double header making it the easiest solution.

You’re already settled into a seat, laptop open on the table in front of you, headphones on. You barely even look up when you feel him looking over you, but then he’s tugging one side of your headphones off your ear.

“Did you even sleep?” He asks, brows furrowed.

“Yes,” you lie, raising your brows at him defensively.

Oscar raises his brows in return. He obviously doesn’t believe you.

Before he can say anything else, Lando’s behind him, leaning up over his shoulder. “Oscar, mate, get a move on.”

Oscar rolls his eyes but does as Lando’s urging. There’s not assigned seats, per say, but the two drivers are headed towards the middle of the plane where their trainers and other senior staff are sitting. That’s how these things normally go- it just makes sense. They’ll have meetings on the plane, talk about meal plans and strategies and get ready for the weekend. You’ll spend your flight going through the data just one more time, trying to unlock all of the secrets to give Oscar the best possible chance on Sunday.

…..

Singapore is good. Not great, not perfect, but good. For Lando’s team, it’s a huge weekend. And honestly, 4th place for Oscar in his rookie year is huge too. He’s thrilled, tells you as much after the race, after the briefing.

“I know you worked hard this weekend, put in a lot of hours,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my job,” you say with a shrug.

“Right.” He says. “Thanks, though.”

You smile up at him, knowing it’s wobbly and insincere. You don’t take compliments well. “No problem.”

When you get to the hotel that night, you lay down in the bed and try to fall asleep. It’s no use, really, because it’s not your bed, and because your mind is racing. There’s nothing even bothering you, that’s the stupid thing. Just… a billion thoughts flying by all at once. So you wander the hotel, up and down the stairs, down the halls. You make a pit stop in the exercise room, walk on the treadmill, try out the rowing machine. You’ve never been one for working out, but the internet says exercise can help with sleep issues. It’s worth a try, but it doesn’t work.

You contemplate sneaking into the closed hotel pool, but ultimately decide against it. You’d probably get caught, and then you’d get in trouble, and it would somehow make it back to your boss. Then you’d get fired in Singapore, left to find your own way home. So instead, you head for the vending machines on your floor. There’s got to be something in there that’ll cure the racing in your head. Or at least bring you some comfort in the dead of night.

What doesn’t bring you comfort in the dead of night is a face in the reflection on the glass of the vending machine. You nearly scream when you meet someone else’s eyes. You whirl around, arms in a defensive position, and come face to face with Oscar.

“Would’ve pegged you for flight, not fight,” he says drowsily.

“You can’t sneak up on people like that,” you hiss, dropping your hands to your sides.

“Payback,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face clumsily. “B‘sides, I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. I was trying to get a snack.”

You blink at him. “Oscar, it’s 3am.”

He nods, blinks slowly. You almost expect his eyes to stay closed, almost expect him to fall asleep standing up.

“I woke up starving,” he says, shuffling towards one of the vending machines. “Promise you won’t tell Kim? I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

He’s cute when he’s sleepy. You want to tuck him into bed and tell him bedtime stories. You want to kiss his forehead. You blink hard, trying to reset your brain. The sleep deprivation is really getting to you. This is your coworker, your teammate.

You shrug and nod in agreement. “Would’ve kept the secret without the bribe, but if you’re offering…”

Oscar laughs, a quiet sound in the empty night air. “What’ll it be, then?”

He’s leaning against the glass heavily. He must still be half asleep. You can’t blame him. You point at the bag of chips you’d been eyeing, and then at the gummy worms in the corner. He nods in approval of both, selects them, feeds the machine his money. Then he’s picking his own snack- a poptart and a bag of Cheetos. He backs away, but you make a noise and point at the drinks machine.

“And a Red Bull?” You ask, pointing at your favorite flavor where it sits, lit up by fluorescent light.

He turns back, almost puts the money in, and then he pauses and looks at you. “It’s 3am.”

“Right, we established that.”

“Why would you drink Red Bull at 3am?” He asks, bewildered.

You shrug. “Because I like Red Bull.”

“Go work for them, then,” he suggests. You laugh. “Actually, I have a feeling that would be severely detrimental to your health. Too many free energy drinks. Do you ever sleep?”

“Those are big words for 3am,” you tease, nudging his shoulder. “Come on. The tangerine one, please.”

“I’m not buying you a Red Bull.” He shakes his head. “I am walking you back to your room and you’re going to bed.”

“I’ll tell Kim about your snacks.”

“No, you won’t.”

You let him walk you back to your room. He stands there as you swipe the key card, as you open the door and shuffle inside. He says goodnight from the doorway. You close the door after you echo the sentiment, lock all the locks, and lay down in your bed. You close your eyes and try to go to sleep. You really, truly try. But when the clock turns over to 4am, and you realize it’s useless, you roll out of bed and head down to the vending machine. You buy the Redbull with your own money, carry it back to your room, turn on the tv, and settle in until the sun comes up.

…..

Tokyo may just be your favorite city in the entire world. Everything is open all the time. You’ve never felt more seen by a city. The days that you and the rest of the team spend there between the two races are heaven. You have meetings during the day, but they’re short and easy. At night, there are plenty of places for you to roam, plenty of things to do and see.

You spend your nights in ramen bars, in arcades, in toy stores that seem to stretch on for miles. You collect so many souvenirs you’re worried you’ll have to buy a second suitcase. Frankly, you’re going on week two of sleeping only in one to two hour stints, and it’s likely you’re beginning to get a little manic. In Tokyo, though, nobody bats an eye.

You join the team for breakfast in the hotel lobby on Thursday. You’ve somehow ended up at a table with Oscar and Lando- you’d gotten here before anyone else, and Oscar had chosen the seat across from you. Lando asks what you’ve been up to. They’ve been busy with promo stuff, you’ve hardly seen the two of them all week.

You regale them with your stories and hand off your phone to Lando so he can scroll through your pictures. Oscar listens with rapt attention, leaning to look at the photos too.

“How do you do all this and find time to sleep?” Lando asks, an amused tone in his voice.

“She doesn’t, mate,” Oscar replies, pointing at your phone. “Look at the time stamps.”

You roll your eyes and snatch the phone away from them. Lando’s looking at you with wide eyes, Oscar is smiling amusedly.

“Sleep is for the weak,” you tell them, and you swear Lando’s eyes are going to bug out of his head. “We’re in Tokyo, I’m making the most of it.”

To Oscar’s credit, he doesn’t bring up the encounter at the MTC, or the run in at the vending machines. Still, this revelation seems to bewilder Lando.

“Sleep is like, the most important thing,” he says, shaking his head. “For your health.”

“Not all of us have to be in tip top shape,” you say, stabbing your fork into a waffle on your plate. “Some of us get to have fun. Exhibit B. Our breakfasts.”

Lando looks at your plate, filled with waffles and bacon and your cup of coffee, next to it. He casts his glance to his sad looking bowl of oatmeal, then, and sighs heavily. Oscar’s laughing at the two of you, though his plate looks just as sad.

“When you pass out halfway through the day,” Lando says, a retaliatory furrow in his brow, “I’m telling Andrea why.”

“That won’t happen,” you reassure him. “And besides, it’s media day. I have it easy.”

…..

Oscar makes it on the podium on Sunday. You scream your lungs out with the rest of the team, run to the pit wall, watch the podium celebrations. He’s wrapping everyone in enthusiastic hugs, slapping everyone’s backs and grinning so, so widely. All the lost sleep feels worth it, just to see him smile like that.

When he makes it to you, he hauls you into his chest, arms around your shoulders, holding you tight. You could stay like that forever, if he’d let you. He tucks his chin atop your head and you think you’d like to make a home right there, in his arms.

The celebrations go late, and so does the debrief. By the time it’s all said and done, everyone looks exhausted, including the drivers. They start shuttling you all back to the hotel for the night, back in Tokyo so you can get on the plane easily tomorrow morning. You’re just glad to be back in the city. On a night like tonight, buzzing with adrenaline and caffeine, there’s no way you’re falling asleep.

You somehow end up in a shuttle with Oscar. He smells like champagne and sweat, and you tease him about it when he sits down in the back row next to you.

He smiled sheepishly. “So I smell like a podium finisher, then.”

You watch as the city goes by out the window and listen to him chat idly with the others in the van. When you get back, you’re the last one out of the car. He’s waiting outside the hotel, leaning on the wall.

“So, what’s your plan for the night?” He asks, cocking a brow.

“No judgement?” You ask.

“No judgement,” he promises.

You shrug. “Not exactly sure. There’s a lot to do. I’ll probably get some ramen, maybe go shopping. Might just take a walk.”

He nods. “Sleep?”

“Not high on the priority list,” you admit.

He nods again. “Can I come with?”

You blank, staring at him. “What?”

“On your adventure,” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can I come along?”

Suddenly your heart is pounding in your chest. He wants to come with? Why? There’s a part of you that doesn’t like the idea, that thinks your sleepless adventures are for you and you alone. The other part of you, the one that wins out, thinks it might not be so bad to have some companionship.

“… sure,” you agree, eyeing him carefully. “But you have to play along. No forcing me to go to sleep.”

“Promise,” he says, holding out his pinky.

You hook yours with his and seal the deal.

…..

You both head up to your hotel rooms to change clothes, and in Oscar’s case, to take a shower. He sends you a text when he’s ready and you meet him in the lobby. He’s in a casual outfit, jeans and a hoodie. You’re dressed similarly, in a pair of black jeans and a crewneck.

“Where to?” He asks, wide grin on his face.

It turns out that Oscar is the ideal late night adventure companion. You start your night out at a sushi conveyor restaurant, both of you joking about how Lando would never dare to eat there. You eat to your heart’s content and make comments about fueling up for the night ahead. He even joins you in having an energy drink, some Japanese brand that you’ve never heard of. Oscar reads part of the label to you, balks at the amount of caffeine in it, and drinks it anyways.

After the restaurant, the two of you climb into a cab and head to the Shibuya district. It’s crawling with people, buzzing with energy, and you feel right at home. Oscar sticks close to your side, hanging onto the back of your sweatshirt as you cross the busy crosswalks in a sea of people. When you turn, though, he’s smiling like he’s having the time of his life. The two of you climb the stairs to an observatory where you can watch the dance of pedestrians and traffic from above. There’s a glow to the city that feels akin to how your brain feels when you can’t sleep- like it never goes out, never turns off.

You tell this to Oscar, who gives you a contemplative look.

“Is it the energy drinks?” He asks. His hand is on your wrist, likely just to keep track of you in the crowds.

You shake your head. “The energy drinks came after the… not sleeping-“

“Insomnia,” he suggests.

“… not sleeping,” you repeat, narrowing your eyes at him. “Anyways. I was like a zombie. The energy drinks make it so I’m functional. I figure if I’m gonna be awake, may as well enjoy it.”

You head back out onto the streets and begin to wander again. Oscar follows along, always holding onto you in some way, always smiling when you look at him. The two of you wander through art galleries and museums lit up with neon lights. Somewhere in the middle of one of them, he slips his fingers between yours. You’re not complaining. There’s something grounding, leveling about his presence.

You stop for drinks at a bar- some sort of local beer that Oscar orders for both of you in Japanese. It’s followed by a vodka Red Bull, at your insistence. Oscar wrinkles his nose but drinks the whole thing, seemingly determined to match you.

Next door, there’s a highly American themed bowling alley. Oscar laughs about how Logan would love it and pulls you inside. It’s the first stop of the night that he’s suggested, so you go along eagerly. He’s snapping pictures, ones to send to Logan, ones for himself, ones of you smiling, renting out bowling shoes. He pays for the game, and you both do terribly. The worker puts the bumper guards up out of pity, because the two of you obviously have no idea what you’re doing. He’s a world renowned athlete, you’re a highly skilled engineer, and yet, you both suck at bowling.

“When did the in-“ you fix him with a glare, and he stops mid sentence. “When did the not sleeping start?”

You look up at the ceiling of the bowling alley and purse your lips, watching the disco ball spin. “Next question.”

He huffs and shrugs, rolling the ball down the lane. “I don’t have a next question.”

“What’s your family like?”’you ask him, and he smiles, softer than you’ve ever seen him smile before.

“Well, I have three sisters,” he starts, eyes lighting up.

Somewhere between the bowling alley, the next bar, and the shopping mall you end up in, you start to really get to know Oscar. It’s funny how the night opens people up. Everything feels safer in the dark, surrounded by other people. It’s creeping up on 1am- in theory, both of you should be sound asleep. The fact that you’re not makes anything okay. You learn about his family, his childhood, his friends back home and in the UK. You tell him about yourself, too. He listens with an eager look on his face, laughing at all the right moments, squeezing your hand at the right ones, too.

You end up in a store that’s packed to the brim with stuffed animals. He lets you drag him around the whole thing, pointing out cute ones and the ones you think are a bit odd. Then you gasp, pointing excitedly, pulling on his hand.

“It’s you,” you squeak, the delirium beginning to set in. It’s a stuffed Kangaroo, and he groans softly. “Look, you’re even making the same face.”

Oscar seems unable to argue with that. Both he and the stuffed kangaroo do seem to be scowling. He smiles instead, picks it up, and takes it to the register. He buys it before you can really even say anything, and the cashier packages it in a bag. The kangaroo’s head sticks out over the paper, your second faithful companion for the night.

By 3am, Oscar is starting to drag. He perks up every time you look at him and smiles brightly, but you can tell. His grip on your hand is looser lately, and his blinks are growing longer and longer. You turn to him, a sympathetic smile on your face.

“We can go back to the hotel, if you want,” you say, poking his cheek lightly.

He smiles. “Are you tired?”

You sigh. “No, but you are.”

“I’m okay,” he insists, shaking his head. “What about the batting cages you mentioned? That sounded fun.”

You pout at him. “Oscar, you’re half asleep. You’d definitely get hit by a ball.”

He nods in agreement. “Maybe I just need another energy drink?”

You cock your head at him, take in his heavy eyelids, his parted lips. “That would be your third one of the night. And that would be very unhealthy.”

He nods again. “Yeah. Okay. Just… I said I’d be along for the ride.”

“We can hang out at the hotel,” you suggest. “The pool area is open all night.”

“I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”

“Me neither.”

You somehow end up with a pizza on your way back, and the two of you plant yourselves in the pool area on one of the chaise lounge chairs, the pizza box in front of you. You eat the greasy, cheesy food, and even Oscar indulges in it. He has his hand planted on the chair behind your back. Every so often you lean backs against his arm just to feel his presence. His knee bumps against yours, and you smile.

The pool is clear and blue. Neither of you will be swimming, but this felt like a neutral enough place. You’d thought about inviting him back to your room but had felt weird about it. There’s something calming about the still water and the smell of the chlorine, anyways.

He leans his head on your shoulder. The heavy weight of him is nice. He’s solid, sturdy, grounding. You’re chatting idly about something that happened at the race, something he’d missed while he was driving the car. You break off in the middle of a sentence to yawn, and then you close your eyes for just a moment. Oscar’s breath hitches.

The two of you are silent for a moment. You stare into the clear water, aching to drift and float and fall asleep. You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest.

“It started when I was a kid,” you tell him. “I just… stopped sleeping. It comes and goes in cycles. Sometimes I’m fine, sometimes I just…”

“Can’t sleep,” Oscar finishes for you, his words contradicting the sleepy tone of his voice.

“Yeah,” you say, blinking slowly again.

Your head droops, resting against his. He’s so warm, so comforting. He must feel you drifting, must feel your grip faltering, because then he’s sitting up, tucking you into his chest.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asks, drowsily.

“M’so tired,” you admit, curling into him. “Justwannasleep.”

Tears are stinging at your eyes. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t been prepared for this part. The moment when your lack of sleep catches up to you, and you become an emotional, distraught mess. You’re seconds away from full on sobbing.

Oscar seems to sense this. “Okay. Okay, how about- I have a pull out couch in my suite. Why don’t you- if you’re comfortable, you could come sleep there. Maybe it would help to know somebody’s there if you need it? Maybe-“

“Okay,” you answer, nodding against his chest. “Okay, yeah.”

He takes care of the empty pizza box and guides you up to his room. You know there’ll be questions to answer if anyone sees you, but you’re comforted by the fact that it’s 4am and nearly every sane person is sound asleep. He scans into the room, and you let out a sigh when he lets go of your hand. He moves quickly, unfolding the pull out couch, grabbing extra blankets from the cabinets. Before you know it, you’re sitting down on the bed, rubbing your eyes.

It’s strange, now that you’re here. You’re in Oscar’s hotel room. You’ve just spent the night wandering Tokyo with him. You’re exhausted, sleep deprived, still on the verge of tears. Everything feels hazy and blurry.

“I can… go, if you want,” he says, and you blink up at him through your blurry vision. “Or I can sit with you till you fall asleep.”

“That might take a while,” you tell him. “Like, you’re more likely to fall asleep. Even… when I finally get to this point, it takes a while.”

He shrugs. “We could put on a movie.”

That’s exactly what you do. He turns on the tv, spots Finding Nemo on the guide, and turns it on. He sinks down on the bed, leaning against the couch back. You crawl up next to him as he turns the volume low. At first, you just sit shoulder to shoulder. Then he reaches out, wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulls you into his side. You sigh against him. Cradled close, you let the exhausted tears flow. He can’t see you, probably, and even if he can, you can’t bring yourself to care. He leans down, brushes his lips against your forehead.

“M’right here,” he says, softly. “I’ve got you.”

You wake up at 8am with your head in his lap. His alarm is blaring from the side table, and you’re both springing apart. He fumbles for his phone, shutting the alarm off with the shaky hands of someone who’s just been woken up from not nearly enough sleep.

You, on the other hand, have gotten the most consecutive sleep of your last two weeks. You stretch, rubbing the blur from your eyes and blinking at him.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“For what?” He asks, voice steady.

“For… I don’t know. Keeping you up so late? Falling asleep on you?” You shrug. “I… that was a lot, for me to put that all on you.”

Oscar shrugs, so nonchalant about it. “It’s what friends are for.”

You nod, though you’re not convinced. You pull away, and Oscar’s soft smile drops to a flat frown. He reaches for you, but you dodge his touch.

“I should go,” you tell him. “We have to leave soon, people are going to be getting up and- if they see me come out of your room-“

“We can be friends,” he says, again, brows furrowing. “We didn’t do anything wrong, everything is okay-“

He doesn’t understand. It’s fine for him, but this is too much for you. He wants to be friends, but you’re looking at him and thinking about how if you could curl up on his chest every night, you might never have trouble sleeping again. He wants friends, you want more. You can’t have more, though, because there’s no way you’ll keep your job. And he doesn’t want that, anyways. Why would he? You’re just his pity project, the poor girl who can’t sleep, who fails at counting sheep.

“I should go,” you repeat, standing up. You can’t look at him, can’t watch him watching you. “Thank you. For everything. I’m sorry.”

He stands up too, and he grabs your hand. You pause, stuck between ripping your hand from his and running, or whirling around and snapping at him. Fight or flight. Instead, you take a deep breath. You’re still sleep deprived, still exhausted. 4 hours doesn’t fix two weeks of little to no sleep.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, shoulders sagging. “I have a hard time letting people take care of me.”

“It’s okay,” Oscar says. “Just- come sit down? Let’s talk, okay?”

You sink down on the bed, rest your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands. “Why do you care?”

Oscar sits down next to you. He reaches out, knits your fingers together. You’re reminded of the art galleries, of the crowds, of the bowling alley. You split yourself open last night, in the safety of the time when you should’ve been sleeping. He saw you and he’s still here, somehow, hanging on. Your bones are tired. Your head is pounding. You need caffeine.

“I care,” he says, gently, “because I care about you. Because I think you’re a good person, and I want to get to know you better. And because this whole thing is not healthy.”

You sigh. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand methodically, back and forth. The funny thing is, you could fall asleep again, just like this. You could lean into his shoulder, let the warmth of him seep into your skin, and fall asleep. You wonder if he knows it.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, rubbing at your face sleepily. “Osc, I’ve been like this for years. It’s not just going to change now.”

“Not overnight,” he says, softly. There’s a callous on his thumb, you can feel the scrape of it over your skin. It’s oddly soothing. “But I can try. I can be here.”

“Why would you want to?”

“Because despite all the craziness, last night was the most fun I’ve had in weeks,” he says, and you could cry. “I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you. Take you on dates. The whole nine yards.”

You should’ve expected this. Oscar can be shy, and quiet, but he can be straightforward, too. He’s pretty easy to read. He’s blunt with Lando, almost to the point of contention sometimes. But you’d been so focused on trying to prove to him that you were just fine that you hadn’t considered he was feeling the sparks, too. That maybe he wasn’t holding onto you in the crowd just so he didn’t lose you. That maybe he liked the feeling of your skin on his, too.

“If you want that,” he says, voice low.

You blink blearily, pull away to look up at him. “I do.”

He nods, leans forward, kisses your forehead. The rest of it will come later, you think. You can work all the details out when you’re both more awake. Right now, he pulls you into his chest and flops back onto the bed.

“We have an hour before anyone comes looking for us,” he says, rubbing your back lightly. “Close your eyes? You don’t have to sleep, just-“

You blink once, twice, and then you’re fast asleep before he can get another word out.

…..

Oscar wins the sprint race in Qatar, and then takes second on Sunday. He’s nothing but endless wide grins all weekend, despite the heat and the dehydration and his obvious exhaustion. You laugh when you watch him lay down on the floor in the cool down room and smile when he gets sprayed with champagne on the podium. He chases you through the garage afterwards to give you a hug, despite your screeching about how sticky he is.

He tucks you into his chest. “Couldn’t have done it without you, baby.”

Later, you help corral a very tired Oscar and Lando to the shuttles and back to the hotel. They’re each stumbling over their own feet, giggling and laughing about the race, shoving at each other’s shoulders. For a minute, you’re walking through an empty parking lot, far from any other McLaren staff, and Oscar links his fingers with yours. They fit together like puzzle pieces. His fingers are sticky with champagne, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Lando sees and doesn’t say anything, just smiles.

You’re keeping it quiet for now. Time to figure it out between the two of you before you get your bosses involved. You have a feeling it’ll be mostly okay. You’ll figure it out, one way or another.

You follow Oscar up to his hotel room, saying goodnight to Lando as he heads further down the hall. He knits his fingers with yours again, leads you into his room, and collapses onto the bed.

“I’m exhausted,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you?”

You smile down at him, laid out on the bed. He should probably shower, at the very least change his clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him that.

You sigh. “I mean, yeah, but if you’re asking if I’ll be able to sleep… probably not.”

He nods in understanding and purses his lips. “D’you think… would you just… stay, until I fall asleep?” He asks, blinking up at you. “After that you can take my card and get a Red Bull and go do whatever, just-“

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” you tell him.

It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done. He gets ready for bed, and you do the same. You lean against the headboard and he crawls up the bed. He puts his head on a pillow in your lap, curls up into a little c shape. He’s very cat like, you’ve noticed, especially when he’s sleepy. You run your fingers through his hair, the tv playing quietly in the background, and he sighs and closes his eyes.

“Goodnight,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

He’s out within minutes. Oscar is a sound sleeper. You could move him, could shift his head and get up. You could wander the halls, take his card and buy all the energy drinks you desire. But you look down at him, his brow unfurrowed, lips parted, and you can’t bring yourself to do it. You could sit here and watch him breathe all night. It’s a terrifying and comforting thought, all at once.

You don’t sleep. It’s likely you’ll crash on the flight home, or maybe shortly after that. With your luck, you’ll pass out in a meeting when you get back to the MTC. Oscar doesn’t scold you when he wakes up and it’s obvious you’ve been awake all night.

He gets you coffee from the breakfast bar, exactly how you like it. And when he finds you in the backseat of the airport shuttle, he hands you a tangerine Red Bull. It’s early, the sun just peeking up over the horizon, washing the whole city with orange. He’s smiling at you, and you’re smiling right back.

When you fall asleep on his shoulder on the way to the airport, nobody dares to say a word.

…..

“Did you hear we’re gonna be sponsored by Monster next year?” Lando asks, throwing a tennis ball at a wall in the courtyard.

You sit up in the grass nearby, eyes lighting up. “You’re kidding. Free Monster?”

Oscar, whose stomach you’d been laying on, sits up behind you and wraps his arm around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Your consumption will be restricted,” he says, and you laugh.

You suppose that’s fair. Besides, Monster is fine, but nothing will ever top tangerine Red Bull.

check out the companion blurb, Glad You’re Here

thanks for reading, hope you sleep better than me! you can find my other fics here! sweet dreams y’all

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #formula 1 fanfic #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic #Oscar piastri oneshot #pls be gentle I am tired #honeywrites #op81 #Oscar piastri #tangerine!verse

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2knightt · 3 months

Text

「 i ruin it all by saying somethin’ stupid.」

IN WHICH—you think you ruined everything by telling your best friend you love him.♡ ໋֢ ✧

📀ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 🕯️ notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅: n’ two people before me made fics similar to this! @/chillyfrys with sodapop x male!reader and @/dearnows with the whole gang. go read both! they’re both talented and lovely people🫶!

Dallas Winston ;

you two just finished pretending to be a couple getting married in a fancy restaurant to get free food.

you liked the rush and dallas was just really fucking hungry 😭. so when the idea was brought up, dallas just nodded.

you two walked out of the restaurant—shit eating grins on your faces as you hold in laughs. you pretend to marvel at the obviously fake and stolen ring dallas had pulled out.

once you felt like you were far away enough—you burst out laughing.

“i can’t believe we got away with it! like??”

“i’m a great actor, y/n.”

dallas said with a chuckle, looking over at you as he lit a cigarette, cupping a hand to protect the flame.

“yea. that’s why i love you, dallas.”

you immediately paused—the smile on your face dropping. you kinda just stared at the sidewalk in front of you, avoiding dallas’ gaze like the plague.

dallas was silent, his head turned towards you. you both stopped walking, trying to process your words in two different ways.

in your head, you were screaming and crying. ‘FUCKFUCKFUVK😭😭😖😖.’ in dallas’ head he was jusy kinda more, ‘they fucking what?? i thought we were just friends?? are we not??’

“…yea?”

dally mumbled, his eyebrows raised as smoke seeped through his lips as he asked.

nervously, you stood up straight, lips tightened as you become more and more awkward by the second. nodding as you hum to begrudgingly confirm.

a chuckle left dallas’ throat as he sees your reaction. he took a drag from his cigarette before taking a small step closer toward you.

“cool.”

he mumbled, hooking a finger around your belt loops, pulling you closer toward him. you stumbled to his side, his hand resting on his backside.

dallas has never been the guy to outright say ‘i love you.’ but this is a start. you’re happy nonetheless with this, his hand on your lower back, guiding you.

his own way of not saying somethin’ stupid like you did.

“so…you love me, huh?”

“maybe.”

“…fuck you mean, ‘maybe’?!”

Johnny Cade ;

“i-i can’t do this anymore, y/n. i hate that damned house.”

“johnny, you’re always welcomed at mine. you know that.”

you found johnny on the verge of tears in the lot. your best friend was alone in such a time where he needed someone the most.

you rushed toward his side, sitting beside him on the cold grass. johnny rested a head on your shoulder as you rubbed his back, trying to provide any sort of comfort.

“i know. it’s just—i don’t know. jumpin’ at a fuckin’ bug ain’t a life for anyone.”

“jesus, johnny. i love you too much for you to be talkin’ like this.”

johnny nodded his head, not realizing the weight behind your words at first. you did, however.

your eyes widened as you tightened your lips. ‘FUCKKKK—DID HE REALIZE??? WHY DID I SAY THAT??? NONONONO, JOHNNY DON’T THINK TOO HARD ‘BOUT WHAT I SAID😭😖💔’

johnny blinked, realizing what you told him. did you mean it in the way he’s thinking? did you love love him? or was this all just some prank a bunch of soc’s put you up to?

he moved away from your shoulder, hugging his knees as he turned his head to look back at you.

“uh…what did you mean?”

johnny thought asking that would cost him his life. you’re just freaking out in your head.

‘FUCKKKKKK☹️ NONONO DON’T ASK ME THAT?? 😖I DON’T WANNA DO THIS WHOLE EMBARRASSING MOMENT ALL OVER AGAIN??’

“it’s nothin’, man. don’t look into it.”

you mumbled, trying to avoid the scenario in your head that you do redo your confession and he just spits on you before walking away.

johnny, however, wanted you to own up to it. it’d be a lot less work on his end. he adjusted his position, getting closer to you as he asked another question.

“tell me. please, y/n.”

you bit your tongue to stay away from saying something irrational.

“i just said i really like you. that’s all.”

you mumbled so quietly, johnny could barely hear. he was awfully glad that this road was almost dead, hearing you admit somethin’ stupid like that was lovely.

johnny shifted around where he sat, his back straightened as he played with with cuticles, picking at them to distract him from his own small confession.

“me too. i—uhm, like you too.”

johnny’s always had trouble saying ‘i love you.’ this is close enough for the both of you. it’s a start—a start to something better.

“why didn’t you just tell me, y/n?”

“I WAS FUCKINGSCARED!”

Ponyboy Curtis ;

you always liked pony. you never knew what it was. maybe it’s because he was nicer to you than other guys—or maybe it’s because you fell in love with your best friend.

it’s not like you know, anyways.

you were sleeping over at his house, you always do. darry and soda’ve gotten used to it by now—keeping spare everything’s around the house for you.

it was late at night, watching a bunch of movies you two made fun of repeatedly. ponyboy said he was gonna ‘rest his eyes’ but you knew that he was just gonna fall asleep.

his head fell onto your shoulder, his body entirely relaxed. seeing your best friend like this was heartwarming—it seemed ponyboy couldn’t get a break.

you adjusted your position so he’d be more comfortable, a hand over his gently. with your attention diverted away from the TV, you watched as strands of his hair fell over his forehead.

a quiet chuckle escaped your throat as you brushed them back, a small whisper leaving your lips as did so.

“god—i love you.”

‘thank GOD this man is asleep! ☺️🙈this’d be real fucking embarrassi-‘

“you what?”

ponyboy asked, a little a lot taken aback by the words that just left your mouth. his eyes were widened as his ears burned, sitting up straight.

you looked back at him with the same reaction—more embarrassed than anything. your eyes were darting all around the room as you tightened your lips.

“i didn’t say shit, man.”

“don’t even try that with me right now, y/n.”

your immediate thought was ‘hoooolyyyy fuck😰😰’ while ponyboy’s was, ‘can they just admit it already😐.’

“…weren’t you asleep?”

“don’t you have something to tell me?”

“no…”

ponyboy groaned, rolling his eyes at your answer as you toyed with your fingers, biting the inside of your cheek.

ponyboy just decided to say somethin’ stupid like you did—ready to get this 1000lbs weight off his shoulders.

“i love you too.”

he grumbled, crossing his arms as he went back to watching the movie. his posture faltered before a sigh left his lips, a head on your shoulder as you tried to process what just happened.

“you loveeee me, pony😍😍”

“nevermind.”

“WAIT NO I’M SORRY!”

Sodapop Curtis ;

you cannot keep living like this—seriously! how are you supposed to be walking around, pretending like you aren’t totally and utterly in love with your best friend!

he’s way cute, way understanding, way too funny, way too smart (even if he won’t admit it.), and did you mention way too cute?

you thought about just telling him upfront. ‘today’s gonna be the day!’ it never was though... you always chickened out or someone got in the way the second you opened your mouth to tell him the speech you rehearsed.

your eyes were locked on sodapop as he went under the hood of a random car. you couldn’t care less about what steve was complaining about—nor what vehicle this is.

“why’re you even ‘ere? you don’t even work today, y/n!😒”

“steve—she can come n’ go. don’t act like you don’t enjoy her visitin’.”

“what? jumpin’ in to save your girlfriend?”

soda paused before throwing a rusted screw at steve, hitting his bicep. you laughed quietly, watching the two bicker back and forth.

“ain’t you got a register to run?”

“….touché🤨…”

steve mumbled before whispering something to soda, covering one side of his mouth so you wouldn’t see. you rolled your eyes at his immature antics—not finding them amusing when it doesn’t involve you as much.

“what was that?”

“nothin’, y/n…”

he answered with a giggle as soda looked flustered and annoyed. steve practically skipped away, leaving the two of you alone.

even though you two knew each other since grade school, the air in the garage was awkward. like the two of you didn’t know how to start a conversation in your 16–almost 17–years of living.

“so..”

“so?”

with that you went on a rant about a rumour goin’ around. ‘it’s total bullshit!’ you’d shout with a huff. what was this rumour? you n’ soda are secretly dating.

“that’s insane.”

“i know! and it’s like—i do love you like that it’s jus-“

OH. OHHHHH. OHHHH MY GOD.

OF COURSE YOU HAD TO SCREW IT ALLL UP BY SAYING SOMETHIN’ STUPID! you’re soo cool for that, y/n. wow. good job.

soda paused, his body tensed before a sigh left his lips. he chuckled, standing up straight as he slammed the hood of the door closed, looking over to you with a smile.

“well—it ain’t really a rumour, is it?”

“…it isn’t?”

“not if you’re free at 8 tomorrow.”

maybe you’re both stupid, maybe you’re both young, or maybe it’s actually gonna work out this time. you smiled as you nodded, confirming you had no plans.

“oh my glory—finally.”

“FYM FINALLY, STEVE??”

“I MEAN, FINALLY. am i gonna be the best man, soda woda😍?”

“hell nah.”

“man, fuck you and your loving partner. happy ass couple, pissin’ me off in my own store.”

Darry Curtis ;

chocolate cake. who doesn’t love it? sure as hell not the boys that run in and out of the curtis’ house, stuffing their faces with this. they eat it like they’ve never eaten in their lives.

apparently it was up to you and darry to supply the next batch. darry (and the boys) announced it oddly ominously.

“we’re low on the supply.”

“….supply of what, darry? …what’re you’re jobs again?”

“cake.”

“OHHH. yeah okay—let’s go make some.”

and that’s how it started. you flicking flour at darry’s darkened hair, making jokes about him ‘finally looking his age,’ darry laughing as you stood there with pride before he grabbed you by the waist and picked you up, putting you on the opposite side of him.

‘he wants me sooo bad😭😭😂😂’ ‘they looks so pretty when they’re smiling.’

duality of man am i right

caught up in the moment, giggles filling the room, your mind empty, you began to mumble somethin’ stupid to yourself.

“jesus—i love you.”

“mh?”

darry hummed, wide eyed with brows raised as he turned his head to face you. you stared back—an awkward expression across your face.

“nothin’.”

all darry did, however, was lightly chuckle as he brushed back a strand of your hair that fell out of place.

“you’re a real treat.”

he’d mumble before confessing somethin’ stupid just as you did.

“i love you too. always have, y’know.”

the cake was forgotten about for 10 minutes. within said time—you two were giggling about the times you tried to confess to one another

“AW, WHAT THE FUCK?”

“kissing? in front of my cake?”

“i knew it…”

“ight…are y’all done?”

“yesssir.🫡”

Steve Randle ;

steve got into another fight—real bloody and real ugly. and who’s job was it to patch him up—as always? you, of course! who else would it be other than his ‘bestest friend’?

“glory, steve! who were you fightin’? the hulk?”

“with the way i was fightin’—i might as well be the hulk. you shoulda seen me!”

he began to mimic the punches he threw earlier as he sat on your kitchen counter—mumbling small ‘bam!’s and ‘boom!’s. you chuckled quietly as you dampened several cotton balls with the alcohol.

“yeah, you wish.”

“you jus’ don’t see the vision.”

steve mumbled, rolling his eyes as you brought the cotton balls up to his open wound on his cheek. he hissed with pain at first, searching for your hand to squeeze.

you realized what he was doing—your ears beginning to burn up. you allowed him to grab your hand, letting him use this as a way to ease the pain.

“OWUH! CAN YOU DO THIS ANY HARDER?”

“i’m doin’ this to help you, steve!”

“OWWWWW”

“oh my god—shut up! i love you n’ all, but shut up!”

steve stopped his over exaggerated complaining to look at you with parted lips, his face getting red.

“like…love, love? or just ‘i love you, man’?”

he tried to get clarification so he doesn’t start geeking in front of you like a loser over something he could’ve gotten wrong.

‘LORD IF YOU CAN HEAR ME—LET IT BE WHAT I THINK IT IS🙏🙏!! I’LL START GOIN’ TO CHURCH EVERY SUNDAY, TRUST!!’

“like—i love, love you.”

you mumbled, putting down the cotton ball as you tried to regain your posture. ruining it all by saying somethin’ stupid was always somethin’ you thought you’d do—but never actually do.

steve slowly got a grin on his face—seemingly ecstatic at the news. he jumped off the counter before putting both hands on your shoulders.

“really?! ‘cuz i’ve always thought you’d never feel the same, and i’ve always been so scared about that! the gang’s not gon’ believe me!”

he rambled, smiling from ear to ear as he said he felt the same way as you. maybe being an idiot sometimes ain’t all that bad.

“‘m the gonna be the best boyfriend ever.”

“i know you will be.”

“….TEEHEE😍🥰🤭”

Two-Bit Mathews ;

drinking was you two’s favourite pass time. you always said he made the hangovers bearable—he always said you made drinking way more fun.

stumbling out of bucks bar, you grabbed onto two-bit’s arm to stabilize you. he chuckled before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close.

“didn’t know i was that irresistible.😍”

“SHUDDUP-“

you pushed away from him, laughing to yourself as two-bit took a step closer—obviously way more sober than you are.

walking down the sidewalk at night, talking about whatever topic came to mind. sure, most of your nights consist of doing this. and sure, your mind always wanders to how cute he looks under the streetlights.

but WHO CARES?! you need to know what happened in the newest episode of the mickey mouse club house!!😖😖

you looked over at two-bit who’s hands seemed to be flying everywhere as he complained about what goofy and donald had been doing.

“i love you.”

“AND THEN HE-what?😀”

he paused in the middle of his sentence, whipping his head around to look over at you. maybe it was the drunken haze that made you say somethin’ stupid—you didn’t really care.

“yeah. always have.”

two-bits silence scared you more than the confession—the anxiety causing you to sober up slightly. however, the wide grin he got and the small chuckles eased you back.

“cool! i-i mean—cool. i love ya too.”

two-bit said—his words coming out quickly and jumbled together. he cleared his throat with tightened lips before wrapping an arm around your shoulders once more—expect you don’t pull away.

he later continued his rant about goofy and donald—holding you close.

“so…what made you realize😍🥰?”

“i like loser men.”

“YOU WHAT?😰”

#2knightt #the outsiders #listen to somethin’ stupid by frank sinatra #or else #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #steve randle x reader #darry curtis x reader #two bit x reader #two bit mathews x reader

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jester-lover · 3 months

Note

Reverse of the ask where TWST bois pick the reader up: Reader is surprisingly strong and scoops *them* up.

I think the bigger the dude, the funnier, but Riddle’s reaction would be hilarious to me as well.

Somewhere in the distance, Ashton Vargas just found his new favorite student…

OG Post! Something similar for the Jack fans!

Buff Girlfriend Casually Lifting Them

Featuring! - Riddle, Jack, Malleus, Sebek

CWs/ Fem! Reader, fluff, humor

Riddle

“Unhand me at once!”

Riddle is shocked, appalled, and redder than a strawberry the second he feels you hook your hands under his knees and neck and pick him up like a bride. His hands immediately flail around and land around your shoulders, increasing his embarrassment tenfold.

His demands quiet down once the shock of the situation soaks in. His girlfriend is lifting him up and carrying him around like he weighs nothing. He has always been aware that you’re physically strong, but he didn’t know you were this strong!

Riddle usually won’t like being carried, but on the rare occasion, after a long day of school and his duties, he’ll ask for a piggyback ride back to his room. He’ll use a very standoffish tone while asking, but the way that he presses his head against the back of your shoulder lets you know he likes it.

Jack

He is so flabbergasted. Jack is in shock.

While he is aware that you’re into fitness—maybe the two of you even train together—he never knew you were this swole.

Jack is blushing; if you look close enough, his hands are shaking. He’s just realized he’s found the ideal woman for him—kind, gentle, who could break him in half like a pixie stick…

Bragging isn’t in his principles, but he might have to gloat a little bit with his track teammates when you’re literally running around with him thrown over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I mean, you’re not even exerting that much energy; he’s astounded!

Jack will (very quietly) ask for you to lift him again, just because he can’t believe it and he needs confirmation that he didn’t just make up the situation in his brain.

“Wanna join me for my morning run? It’ll be good cardio.”

Malleus

He’s getting the princess treatment. Very happy to know he’s your favorite lizard.

Since Malleus is very tall and imposing, he’s not used to such blatant displays of affection.

Having a physically stronger girlfriend would be a point of great pride for Malleus, particularly if you were a human, because then your strength would have been something you'd worked hard on. Something you’ve earned.

Being carried around is no problem for him; he may laugh a little at your strange human whimsy, but he happily agrees to being carried about at any time.

By any time, I mean any time. You could pick him up in the middle of a crowded campus hallway, and he’d just wrap his arms around you, place his head on your shoulder, and let you lead the way.

“Child of Man, be sure to drop me off at my alchemy class; perhaps I’ll let you pick me up and take me to Spelldrive Practice afterwords…”

Sebek

“How dare you, human!”

Sebek is appalled at the absolute gall you’ve got to have to do something so unabashedly romantic; don’t you see he’s too repressed for something so affectionate?

His face turns so red, and he tries to shake out of your ridiculously strong vice grip. Once he leaps off of you, get ready for an hour-long lecture. Sebek is shaking in his boots, explaining to you how inappropriate your actions were and how if you wanted his attention, there were better methods.

Midway through, he kind of realizes how hot it was that you were literally able to pick him up and carry him away like it was no problem, which makes Sebek quieter than you’ve ever seen him before, contemplating his words.

He quietly asks you to pick him up again because he wants to test your human endurance! (Ignore the way his eyes lock in on your defined shoulders, okay?)

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7s3ven · 3 months

Note

can you please do poseidon/reader and she finds out luke is the lightning thief?

THE GRUDGE. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N can’t forgive Luke for his crimes despite loving him more than she loves herself.

“I know in my heart hurt people, hurt people. And we both drew blood, but, man, those cuts were never equal.”

Warnings : spoilers, small angst (in my opinion lol. I’m more sensitive to family/friendship angst, not relationship angst), short(ish) oneshot

A/N : to any other writers, do you ever act out the situations you’re writing so you can write a better descriptions of reactions and then you realise that you’re actually a good actor?

Because I literally just acted out Y/N’s reaction and either I’m great at fake crying (which has been a talent of mine) … or my heart-wrenching sobs were real 😨. Also, the song one of us from the Lion King suits Luke perfectly.

—

The life of a half-blood wasn’t easy, especially not when you were a forbidden child. Y/N flipped through her fashion magazine, aimlessly swinging her legs as she lay on her front. “Y/N.” Luke called out, pushing the creaky door open. She lifted her head, staring at him curiously.

“Hey, Luke.” She smiled at him, clasping her hands together. He grinned back, slowly walking over to her side.

“You feeling okay?” He asked, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. With Percy, her half-brother gone, she was alone in her cabin. Again.

Y/N gazed at him through her lashes. “Yeah. I’m good. I’m fine.” She whispered, reaching out to grasp his wrist. Luke bit the inside of his cheek.

“I have your phone.” Luke uttered, handing Y/N her device. Phones weren’t allowed in camp but Luke found a way around that, much to Y/N’s happiness. She had spent far too long in the mortal world to give up scrolling through social media.

“Thanks, love.” Her pink-tinted lips curved into a soft smile. “You have no idea how much I need this now that Percy is gone on his quest. It’s so lonely here.”

Y/N always hated being in her own company. Her cabin got messy and she never had the motivation to clean it. She was thankful for Luke because he always helped her with the mundane task that should have been easy, but not for her.

“No problem, princess.” Luke lightly kissed her forehead while she laughed. “I can’t wait until Percy is back because I have a feeling that things are about to change.” Nothing good lasts for long. Y/N, more than anyone, knew that. She stalked through the thick vegetation, harbouring a heavy sword. She had heard rumours of Luke… and she needed to confirm it for herself, even if it meant endangering her safety.

“Luke.” She called out, her voice shaking. She didn’t want to believe the rumours but Luke was unpredictable. Ever since returning from his quest, he hadn’t been the same.

Y/N had been at Camp Half-Blood for longer than most and she had seen demigods come and go, desperately searching for glory but never finding enough of it.

“Luke.” She said again, repeating it like it was a mantra that would save him from the terrible fate he had chosen. She dragged her sword against the ground, her eyes scanning for the slightest bit of movement amongst the trees.

She sighed, thinking of returning to camp before she spotted a flicker of orange. "Luke?" She whispered, but he still heard her. She stepped towards him, breathing heavily.

"Luke... what... is it true? Did you..." Y/N couldn't find the right words. "What did you do, Luke?" She asked, grabbing him by the front of his shirt when she noticed how he avoided her gaze and how his eyes looked so guilty. "What did you do?!"

"I did what I had to, Y/N. The gods... they don't care about us." Luke stiffened as Y/N glowered at him, her eyes filled with so much rage and hate and sadness and everything in between.

"You're wrong, Luke!" She exclaimed, harshly shaking him.

"I'm not like you, Y/N! My father doesn't care about me. Yours might give a shit about you but that doesn't apply to anyone! Look around you. Poseidon ignored Percy for years while nurturing you. My father abandoned my mother and I when he could have helped us. Ares hates Clarisse for being a girl and forces her to train harder until she collapses. They try so hard to find every little flaw in us that they ignore what we've done for them."

"But why this, Luke? Why betray us? Me! You betrayed me, Luke! And all your friends and family! Hermes may not give a shit about you, but I do! I have loved you since we first met, Luke! I fucking love you and you betrayed me!" Y/N slammed her fists against his chest, screaming until tears welled up in her eyes. "What did you do to Percy?" She muttered, her voice barely even a whisper. "Tell me. Tell me now and I might spare you! Please… please.” She hiccuped, her hits growing weaker.

Luke wheezed as Y/N gripped his throat for a split second. "He'll be fine... he only got stung."

"I hate you." Y/N seethed, rage engulfing her soft heart until it spilled out and poisoned her body with its toxins. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you! Gods, I hate you, Luke! Fuck you! Fuck… you!” She screamed, the sound echoing around the empty trees.

But she still couldn't bring herself to stab him. "Get out of here, Luke. Go! Leave! I never want to see your face again!" Y/N's voice shook as she shoved Luke away from her.

Heart-wrenching sobs slipped past her lips as she pointed an accusing finger at Luke. "The gods have fucked up, Luke, but you are no different. Maybe you had the right idea at first... but you went with it the wrong way. And it cost you everything. Don't go near Percy again. Don’t you dare touch him ever again! You don’t deserve his kindness! Don't even look at him because I promise you, if you do, I will drive a stake through your heart!” Y/N's confident voice faltered for a moment. She shakily inhaled. "I hope you're happy with yourself." That fated day still haunted Y/N's mind. She often had nightmares about it, where things turned out different had she stabbed Luke. She always woke up with a loud gasp, covered in a light layer of sweat.

On her nightside table, her phone rang. She hadn't been using it much since Luke left. She slowly reached for it. Nobody had her phone number except her close friend, who lived in Tokyo, her cousin, and... Luke.

Her heart was beating unusually fast as she shakily turned the device over to peer at the screen. Her stomach churned and she dropped her phone in horror. Percy was in the infirmary, still recovering from the pit scorpion attack. She was somewhat thankful for that.

She let the phone ring, letting out a sigh of relief when it finally stopped. But it started again, and again. Until on the third ring, she finally clicked the green button.

She didn't say anything, flinching at the sound of Luke's voice. "Y/N? Y/N. Thank goodness you picked up! I knew you weren't going to answer my iris message so I was hoping your phone was working."

Y/N cut Luke off from his ranting. "Luke... don't call me again."

"Wait, Y/N. Please listen to me. I love"-

She hung up before he could finish. She stared at her phone, gripping it tightly. With a guttural scream, she threw it across the room. It landed safely on Percy's bed and a part of her was glad that it did. It was one of the only things she had left from Luke.

She didn't know if she could ever forgive Luke for betraying her trust. And the worst thing was that she still loved him from the bottom of her heart. "You good?" Y/N quietly walked towards Percy, helping him sit up. He groaned.

"Yeah. I'm sorry about Luke... I know how much he meant to you." Percy's eyes softened as he stared at Y/N, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"He, uh... tried calling me last night." Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line.

Percy tilted his head to the side. "So what'd you do?"

"I ignored him until the third time... then I hung up after I told him to stop contacting me."

"You don't have to be so tough all the time, Y/N." Percy uttered, pulling her into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her waste and she sighed.

"I really want to scream, Percy. I just... can't believe he could do that so easily. I mean, leave us... leave me. I'm trying not to care and I'm trying to say I'm fine but I can't let it go." Tears welled up again, dripping down the red apples of her cheeks.

Y/N would be lying if she said she hadn’t tried to figure out why Luke did what he did. She tried to piece everything together but it only hurt her head and heart to think.

After ensuring Percy was comfortable, she stepped outside. The camp was in utter chaos after Luke’s betrayal and they were trying to find more spies amongst them. Most people suspected Y/N because she ran into the woods to confront Luke and she was closely associated with him, which didn’t help. But she loved her friends and she could never leave them as Luke had.

She wandered into a small clearing, dipping her hand into a cold river nearby to calm herself. She didn’t even notice someone was watching her from behind until they cleared their throat.

With a panicked gasp, Y/N looked over her shoulder. She was expecting a fellow camper, maybe even Luke, but not Hermes in all his glory. The pair stared at each other for a minute before Hermes finally broke the awkward silence.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He hesitatingly pointed at her, worried he had the wrong girl.

She nodded.

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see after Luke left.” Hermes started off, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

“Luke is the last person I want to see.” Y/N retorted, “You’re second on that list.”

“He really did like you, you know."

“It wasn’t enough apparently.” Y/N shrugged, already accepting that she could tear Luke from his fate, “Maybe I deserved the betrayal… but not from Luke. He practically made me into the person I am. I guess he wanted to see how high he could build me before I fell. He had everything yet he still wanted more.”

“He cared about you. Dare I say, Y/N, he love”-

She cut him off just as she had cut Luke off. “Don’t say he loved me because if he did then he wouldn’t have done this! He… he wouldn’t have done all this!” Y/N choked on her words as she bit back a sob.

“He still loves you. Not loved. Not past-tense. Never past-tense. I’ve seen him, you know. He misses you and for a while, he tried to contact you in every way he could just so he could hear your voice. Even if you were screaming at him. I know that in another life, he wishes he didn’t have to leave you behind.”

“There shouldn’t be another life!” Y/N exclaimed. Getting angry at a god was dangerous but she was so frustrated and angry and hurt. Hermes didn’t seem to mind. He nodded his head, understanding her emotions. “Don’t you get it? You also have to take the blame. You’re part of the reason why he betrayed us!”

“He’ll forgive me eventually.”

Y/N shook her head. “No. You and every other deity thinks that your neglected child will forgive you but they might not. They might forgive but they will never forget. If I can’t even forgive the boy I love with all my heart, how do you think Luke will ever forgive you?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Forgiveness takes strength." Hermes whispered, barely loud enough for Y/N to hear. "Luke is much stronger than I originally thought and you, the mighty daughter of the sea god himself, are too.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/N shrugged as she stood up, brushing the dirty off her pants. “I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”

“It takes time.” Hermes said, “Meanwhile, I would suggest answering that.” He pointed at her phone that was ringing in her hand. Y/N didn’t even notice with how distracted she was.

She briefly looked down at the screen and raised her head again, her lips parting when Hermes was nowhere to be seen.

She hesitatingly pressed the accept button and raised her phone to her ear. She heard him quietly gasp, surprised she even answered again. “Luke… hi.”

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moonstruckme · 5 months

Note

Would you be willing to do a bodyguard!Sirius fic where they’re both pining and there’s so much cute banter but then something real goes down and Sirius goes into full guard dog protective mode, soft with reader and aggressive to anyone else??????

Thanks love!

cw: violence

bodyguard!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you say, trying again to steal the handles of your shopping bags from Sirius’ grasp. He holds them away from you, the wind of a passing car barely moving the bags with all the clothes weighing them down.

“Careful, or I’ll accidentally drop them in the street,” he teases, bringing the bags back to his side. He’s carrying three in one hand, the other kept free as a precaution. “And you’re not actually that difficult to persuade, dollface. You know a reasonable argument when you hear it.”

You scoff. “How is ‘buy six of the same top’ a reasonable argument?”

“Because it looks good on you, and they had it in six colors. Easy.”

“But red? I look awful in red.”

“You don’t look awful, ever.” Sirius makes a derisive sound. “You’re just not used to seeing yourself in red. You look good in every color.”

You roll your eyes, about to retort when a shout rings out behind you. You turn, Sirius placing a protective hand on your arm, but it does nothing to stop the momentum of the figure running at you.

The air is knocked out of you as a masked man barrels into your middle, barely slowing as he throws you over his shoulder.

Sirius yells, and you look up to see he’s dropped the bags and is wrestling a knife away from his neck—your heart lurches—twisting the wrist of another man until he drops it.

A third is running behind you. They’re all wearing ski masks. The one you can see barely has the holes over his eyes, like he’d pulled it on hastily before running at you.

He reaches up to press a cloth to your mouth. Your arms are pinned by the hold of the man carrying you, but you kick and buck for all you’re worth, thrashing your head about until the guy behind you gives up and lowers the cloth.

You suck in air to scream, and something crashes into you from the side. Your face smashes into the ground. You twist onto your side as quickly as you can, hands up to ward off the new threat, but this new person isn’t masked. The third man, the one who’d put the cloth to your mouth, hesitates less than a second before taking off, another member of your detail digging her knee into the first man’s back as she works to pin his arms behind him. A second later, and Mark—who must have been the first shout you heard, he was supposed to be guarding your back—is there with her, helping to wrestle your attacker’s hands into zip-ties. You think distantly that you’d always considered them carrying zip-ties ridiculous, because what would they need those for? Now you know.

A hand grips your chin, and then you’re looking into Sirius’ worried gray eyes. “Are you okay?” he pants. His voice is rough and curt, at odds with the gentleness of his touch on your face.

“I—” You glance to the man beside you, who’s gone obstinately silent as your two other guards fire questions at him.

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice is near pleading. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah.”

His shoulders slump in relief, but none of the tension leaves his face. “Mark!” he barks towards the other two. “Julie’s got him, go get the other guy.”

Mark nods and takes off in the direction the third man had run, and Sirius turns back to you, the crease between his brows not leaving but gentling. “I saw them put something on your face. You didn’t breathe in?”

“I didn’t,” you confirm. Just like he’d taught you, back when you’d thought his little lessons would always be pointless.

“Good girl.” He takes your face in both hands, pressing a firm kiss between your brows. “Great job, sweetheart, that’s not easy.”

Movement from your left makes you flinch, and you look over to see Julia trying to wrangle your attacker—now unmasked, and all but snarling at you—into the van. In a flash, Sirius is between you.

“Keep fucking looking at her like that, and see what happens.” His voice is the kind of cold where even snow won’t fall. Even though you’re the one he’s protecting, you go rigid.

The man’s expression goes slack, and he’s dumbstruck enough for Julia to get him the rest of the way into the van with little hassle. Sirius turns back to you, the severity melting from his features.

“Sorry, baby.” The pet name seems to slip out unbidden, and he almost flinches himself, shying away from you as if embarrassed. The next words come quieter. “Sometimes you have to be extra harsh with these guys, but I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” you say, and you mean it, the sheepishness in his expression unfamiliar but somewhat comforting considering the equally alien ferocity you’d just witnessed.

“Fuck, you’re shaking all over,” he breathes, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to him. It’s an awkward sort of hug, you sitting and Sirius crouched so that both of your legs get in the way, but he makes the most of it, scrubbing his hand up and down on your shoulder blade with reassuring firmness.

You close your eyes, relishing the contact, the safety of his touch. Then you remember the knife. You open your eyes as he pulls back, finding the tiny line of red over his Adam's apple.

“Are you okay?” It’s little more than a croak, tears coming unbidden to clog your throat.

“Me?” He follows your gaze, touching two fingers to the mark. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, it’s just a graze. It’s nothing. Your cheek, though…” He looks crestfallen. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. This should never have happened.”

“I’m okay,” you promise him, though now that he mentions it, your cheek is stinging. You must have scraped it on the sidewalk. It feels raw. “I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder, my arms—”

“You did everything you could,” he says firmly. “Listen, of course I want you to fight like hell in any situation like that—and you did a great job of it—but it’s my job to make sure you never have to.”

“It was bound to happen eventually,” you say quietly, and something like pain passes across Sirius’ face. He rubs your shoulder delicately.

“Not today,” he says, matching your volume.

Maybe not today, you think, but would it matter if it had happened tomorrow instead? He’d always blame himself. “Agree to disagree?”

“Easy for you to say.” He grins sharply, back to the joking boy you know. “You’re not the one who’s going to get yelled at by Remus when he sees what’s happened to your face.”

“I’ll get him to lay off,” you reassure him.

“Yeah, good fucking luck with that.”

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landogalore · 19 days

Text

DEJA VU

carlos sainz x singer! reader

MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, SMUT: unprotected sex (PLS WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT GUYS), oral sex (female), creampie.

word count: 2.7k

————————————————————————

The routine began the same as every night had previously started, following the identical steps to prepare herself before stepping onto the stage.

The brunette hair swirled down, reaching just below her shoulders in perfectly shaped curls. she allowed her eyes to glance at herself in the mirror, the bright spotlights shooting towards her face, enhancing her facial features so beautifully it would put any person into a trance. the silver eyeshadow has been carefully placed in the corner of her eyelids, the glistening effect causing her sapphire eyes to become bolder, brighter. As she admired herself one last time, she was able to reminisce the events that led up to this, how her talent was able to become known, and the people who cherished her along the journey.

She originally attempted to boost her career by busking, sitting on a stool in the Spanish humidity, singing the songs that she hoped would attract the most attention from the public, eventually persuading them to drop a mere euro into the bucket below. To most people, this would appear to be a normal method to try and get funding which could help increase her popularity, but to the determined singer and her family, she looked like a pathetic charity case.

‘You can’t continue with this, hija.’ her mother would constantly remind her, her dream was just a fantasy she created, unable to ever truly become the reality she longed for.

‘It can go on no longer. we’ll help you get a stable job.’ her father agreed, once again the truth that she was failing hitting like a bullet, leaving a wound that would slowly shatter her confidence.

‘Just one last day, please papá.’ she begged, she needed one last try, a song to say goodbye to the dream that she imagined when she was a child, the commitment she gave needed to be for something, it had to be.

————————————————————————

Similarly to every other session, she placed the empty bucket beside her while she set up the equipment. The streets in Madrid were always busy, bustling with a mixture of both locals and tourists. And like all the other days, she began to sing, a tiny beacon of hope still fighting in her heart, that she will be noticed.

Two hours went by, and the usual process happened, euros gifted to her by a range of people, even a young toddler waddled over to drop a few pennies into the bucket below. This was finally the end, she thought to herself. She sighed, admitting she needed a break before continuing once again, placing the equipment back into her backpack before slouching onto a nearby park bench.

‘You’re the singer, no?’ A voice asked from beside her, turning to face the stranger who somehow recognised her. His dark hair slightly blowing across his face from the gentle breeze, covering small areas of his features. Although, they struggled to hide the large chocolate coloured eyes smiling towards her, leaving the girl almost mesmerised.

‘Yeah! Well, I busk nearby.’ She confirmed, her grin growing at the realisation she had eventually been recognised for her abilities, the man’s lips beaming wider at the answer.

‘Are you available friday?’ he queried, the girl’s eyes widening in shock at the question. was he about to ask her to sing at a venue?

‘Uh..’ she panicked, her whole body buzzing with excitement, ‘definitely! i’m not busy at all on friday!’

‘Great! I’ve got a few friends coming to this event later this week and our singer decided to get food poisoning and cancel. I’ll give you my number and send you the rest of the details.’ He further explained, reaching out of his pocket to grab a notebook, ripping a small tear out of a page. ‘You got a pen?’

‘Yeah!’ she rummaged through her backpack and handed him the pen, her voice unable to contain the positive emotions overwhelming her, seeming a bit too enthusiastic to give him some basic stationery.

‘Here.’ he passed her the tiny sheet which she also placed inside her bag. ‘I’m Carlos.’ he introduced himself, reaching out his hand, the new view of his arms highlighting the prominent veins, despite mainly being covered in body hair.

‘Maddison.’ She grabbed his hand back, shaking it as she stared directly at the man, a mixture of both delight that she can now sing somewhere that isn’t 20+ degrees in the outdoor heat, but also that she had met Carlos…

————————————————————————

Is this Carlos?

Yes! Please be at this address at 7pm. I’ll see you soon 😊

————————————————————————

When she arrived, the immediate elegance of the building shocked her. It seemed like she had been transported to the victorian era, contrasting the usual settings she had been accustomed to previously.

She inhaled a large gasp of the oxygen outside, trying to control her breathing rate and calm down the nervous butterflies that fluttered around her stomach.

She hesitantly stepped inside of the venue, but became immediately mesmerised by the luxurious decorations that covered the room. It was truly something she had never seen before.

“You’re here.” The familiar accent greeted her once again, her eyes shifting to see Carlos, dressed in a dark suit that appeared more expensive than what the girl had in her whole bank account, feeling almost humiliated by the dress she had slipped on in an attempt to blend in with the crowd. “You look-” He began.

“I know… I’m sorry it’s one of the only dresses-” she apologised, already believing she had ruined a part of the night.

“You look stunning, Maddison.” He interrupted, finally finishing his sentence, admiring the girl standing before him, the unexpected compliment causing her cheeks to flush into a vibrant red shade. “I’ll take you to the stage.” Carlos added, indicating for the singer to follow him, which she easily complied.

“Is there anything specific you want me to sing?” She questioned, unsure on what the routine was for the night.

‘Just sing the songs you like, not always just the popular ones, but the songs you’re confident with.’

‘Got it.’ She smiled; she was now able to play the music that matched her tone perfectly rather than adapting. The contagious expression she wore reflected onto Carlos’ face, before he stepped closer to the girl, leaning in towards her ear.

‘I’m sure that anything you sing will be amazing, cariño.’ He murmured softly, backing away and leaving to allow her to set up the equipment desired for the upcoming performance.

The celebrations continued throughout the night, all the guests pleasantly entertained, she didn’t know much about the reasoning behind the event, but narrowed it down to being a birthday party.

After further confirming that the microphone was functioning correctly, she adjusted the stand to her height, placing the device into the slot as she started to introduce her act to the audience.

‘Hi everyone!’ She spoke, all eyes in the room now focused on the girl standing on the stage. “I’m Maddison and I’ve been asked to perform some songs for you all. This one I will sing is currently one of my favourites!’ She finished, shifting from talking to singing as the speaker began to play a melody.

The music differed to the usual tunes she sung while busking, the more tranquil genre suiting her voice almost perfectly, allowing her to stay comfortable while the whole crowd stared. However the only person she truly focused on was Carlos, his chocolate eyes glistening towards her like he was enthralled not just by the singer’s talent, but also by her immense beauty. The man couldn’t comprehend the reasons why he felt such ways for someone he had approached on the street just earlier this week, all he could do is watch in mesmerisation, cherishing the moment.

————————————————————————

At the end of the night, only a few were still gathered at the party, mostly waving their goodbyes; however, the singer and Carlos being a part of that small group.

When she finished her act, the man waited patiently nearby the stage as she packed away her equipment, desperate to just see her once more, even if it was the couple glasses of alcohol he sipped previously influencing these thoughts, the girl remaining unaware of his presence.

‘Your singing was so beautiful.’ He perked up, catching the attention of the girl as she swiftly turned her head around to face him.

‘Carlos, you’re still here?’ her eyes widened, shocked that he had remained at the event for such a long period of time. ‘I thought you would’ve left already.’

‘Never.’ He stepped closer, standing tall above her, just a few inches away from her face, his brain practically entranced by her beauty, he didn’t care anymore, at this moment all he craved was her, everything about her. ��I needed to see you again Maddison.’ His voice softening as he approached further towards the singer, his hands moving upwards to gently caress her cheek. Despite the strength the man’s hands appeared, his touch seemed so gentle and loving.

‘Carlos.’ Her breath hitched at the sudden action, hundreds of questions overwhelming her mind. Why did he want her? Is he drunk? Does he know what he is doing? Why did she want him to kiss her so badly?

‘Say it, please cariño.’ The beseech escaped as almost a murmur, praying that she had heard the sentence, his vision purely focusing on the singer’s plumped lips.

‘Kiss me, Carlos.’ She pleased, immediately being met with the man’s lips smashed onto hers, bringing her into a passionate kiss. Her wish was his command. His tongue entered her mouth as the touch became slightly rougher, grasping onto her cheek tighter but still somehow keeping that caring feeling.

‘Not here.’ She pulled away from the connection, placing the hand that was originally situated on her cheek down towards her own palm, signalling for him to hold it. ‘You don’t want an audience now do you?’ The singer lifted onto the tips of her feet to whisper into his ear, lust clearly visible in her throat.

‘You’re right querida.’ He agreed, a smirk slowly forming on his mouth, ‘I’m the only one who deserves to see you naked, desperate for my cock.’ The words leaving his lips making the girl’s thighs warmer, closing them together to release the pressure that was craving something, craving Carlos.

Eagerly, she followed Carlos away from the grand atmosphere, the room shrinking into a narrow hallway before the man reached their desired destination, twisting the doorknob to reveal the bathroom that still remained as elegant as the rest of the building.

Instantly entering, their lips joined together once again, the girl’s body slammed against the counter nearby the sink while Carlos sped up the pace of their kisses, becoming desperate and sloppy, but she definitely wasn’t complaining.

His tongue continued its attack, although separating from her lips, travelling downwards to her clear neck, the man excited to paint his canvas with marks that will leave large bruises.

As he sucked onto the clear skin, the girl couldn’t help but let high- pitched moans crawl out of her throat, not caring about the red, stinging stains appearing, just praying for this sensation to continue forever.

‘This dress is so pretty on you, ángel.’ Carlos smirked, his fingertips brushing against the slim straps on the one-piece, ‘But you’ll look much better with this all off.’ He looked up at the girl for confirmation to continue, which she eagerly nodded in consent as he slid the fabric down her shoulders, slowly removing the clothing in an attempt to tease her. He refused to break eye contact as the silk dropped down to her thighs, revealing the lacy bra underneath, which he also unclipped to uncover her breasts.

‘I need you, Carlos.’ She pleaded, impatience prominent in her voice as the light strokes made her whole body shiver with lust. ‘I need you in me.’

‘Steady cariño.’ He giggle consumed with mischief, ‘Gonna have some fun with you first.’ He planted sloppy kisses trailing from her collarbone downwards towards the lower area of her chest, the crumpled fabric preventing the man moving any further. ‘Can I?’

‘Yes, please.’ She answered, the material rubbing down her legs as she was left almost naked, just a small piece of dampened lace covering her vagina.

‘Mierda.’ He murmured the curse at the sight of her dripping pussy. ‘You’re already that wet for me, bet you’re gonna taste so good.’ His warm breathed pressed near her entrance, leaving a tickling feeling that only made the girl ache for the man even more.

His mouth began to press against her lips, swirling his tongue around areas of her clit, causing inaudible sounds to slip out of the girl’s mouth.

‘Carlos.-’ Was the only word she could muster, unable to focus while the man licked against her walls, her legs beginning to tremble due to the immense pleasure.

‘Dios, you sound so beautiful saying my name.’ He complimented, still working at her pussy, the visible muscles in the neck twitching, only allowing her to become even more aroused of the thought of his defined body. ‘Are you gonna cum for me, princesa?’

The question finally pushed her to the edge, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, allowing the release, gripping tightly on the marble countertops she lay on for support as the liquid leaked out. However, it was quickly being cleaned up Carlos.

‘I knew it, you taste perfect.’ He chuckled, enjoying the meal before him, ‘Can’t wait to get me inside you now, is that okay?’ He looked upwards at the girl, her eyes now fuzzier and makeup smudged.

‘Please Carlos, I need to see you.’ she begged, placing her hand against his shirt, her fingertips pathing their way towards the top button, undoing each button carefully, similarly to the teasing the man had used previously.

‘Like what you see?’ He snickered as she stared in awe at the exposed abs and thick body hair. Continuing, he swiftly unbuckled his belt, slipping his trousers off and tossing them nearby her already removed dress. The man stood now only in his boxers, his bulge noticeable.

He proceeded undressing, the duo both now fully naked, however the room still stayed warm from their lust that circled the atmosphere.

‘You ready?’ Carlos asked, waiting for the confirmation from the girl as he approached, moving his dick nearby her hole.

‘Yes, fuck me Carlos.’ She pleaded, immediately greeted with his cock filling her up, a loud moan escaping from her lips. ‘Oh my god.’ She gasped, shocked by how truly large he was.

‘Mierda, Mads.’ He groaned at the tight sensation, nobody had ever made him feel like this before, almost as if she was the perfect piece to finish the jigsaw, ‘You make me feel so good, hermosa.’ As he increased the pace, the pleasurable screams grew louder. Fortunately, there was most likely not a soul left in the building, allowing more freedom.

‘I’m gonna cum again, I can’t hold on any longer.’ She whined, the thrusting from Carlos turning all the muscles in her body numb, desperate to release the pressure.

‘We’ll do it together, cariño.’ He suggested, preparing for a countdown so they can both relieve themselves together. ‘1, 2, 3.’ Instantly after, they both moaned in sync, their bodies vibrating as they spilled their warmth into each other, connecting together in more than one way.

‘Are you okay, princesa?’ Carlos pulled out of her, his hand carefully caressing her cheek that glowed with vibrance. Her now tangled hair flowed down her face, slightly hiding some features, but he could still spot her beauty.

‘Perfect, especially now I’m with you.’ The girl giggled.

————————————————————————

Despite that moment being so long ago, the memories are still imprinted in her brain, remembering every detail, including every detail of him.

‘Are you okay? princesa?’ Her fiancé wrapped his arms around the singer’s waist, nuzzling his head softly into the crevice of her neck. ‘No before- stages nerves?’

‘Don’t worry Carlos.’ She reassured, the stage didn’t frighten her so much anymore, confidently able to stand before a large audience. ‘I’m perfect, especially now I’m with you.’ She spoke, and a flash of deja vu sent her back once again, to that Friday night, to the man eager to find a replacement singer, to Carlos.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED <3

#f1 smut #f1 x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #ferrari #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz blurb #cs55

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aclowntiny · 5 months

Text

🧭 Stray Kids’ Preferred PDA🧭

Bang Chan: This man is a hand around waist guy!!! Too shy to kiss in public, absolutely bold enough to have a protective hold on you especially in crowded places. He may even make a joking excuse like “can’t lose you, can I?” followed by a little chuckle that betrays the last hints of shyness residing. If the two of you are standing still, side by side in idleness, he finds himself running his hand lightly up and down your back, too. Just another gesture to show you he’s got you.

Lee Know: Will kiss you in public without giving a shit. Like will you guys be full-on making out on the corner of a street? Probably not. Will Minho randomly pull you into his lips in a Starbucks line because he wants to? Absolutely yes. Over the years, he has just gotten more comfortable with himself and satisfied with the fact that not everyone will understand him. Oh well. And you sure do, so why not let them know? He’ll get especially more affectionate if you’re wearing any sort of couple item, like he might not seem like he likes such things, but the moment he sees you you’re getting kissed.

Changbin: Man will hardly let go of your hand for a second. As long as you don’t need it or have to go somewhere else of course, but if you’re down Changbin would hold your hand almost 25/8 doesn’t matter what you’re doing. The feeling of connection is so important to him that even the simplest link carries great weight. Plus the little protective sensation of grabbing hands in the remotest of tense situations? Changbin lives for it. He wants to feel like someone you can hold onto, depend on, trust, and when you take his hand it feels possible.

Hyunjin: It’s not something he’s consciously aware of at first, but Hyunjin has a habit of tracing patterns on your back as you stand side-by-side or upon your knee when you sit together. He didn’t try to start doing it, but he wonders if it was a subconscious way of trying to record memories, sketch his happiness upon a newly comfortable space. It’s relaxing too, calms any anxiety he might feel. The moment Hyunjin becomes aware of it, though, he asks if the idle motions bother you. When you tell him of course not, it feels nice, the relief dawning upon him as he beams confirms his suspicions.

Han: His favorite thing to do when you’re out and about is to sling an arm around your shoulders. A casual gesture, but it has his chest puffing out with pride- his own little way of showing you off. Smile never failing, Jisung will sit with you in your own little world he encloses, eyes only for you. He loves having a close-up view of the way you throw your head back and laugh, a little avenue to tug you closer and sneak a quick kiss. Actually, scratch all that. His real favorite thing is when his arm is around you and you reach up to grab his hand where it falls, completing the loop of connection entirely.

Felix: Loves, loves, LOVES resting his head on your shoulder. Doesn’t matter the height difference, life Felix finds a way. Especially if you have to stand or sit somewhere for an extended period of time like a long amusement park ride line or a boring ceremony. You are his center of comfort and nestling into you is heaven on earth for him, the subtle warmth, the way his head fits perfectly in the crook of your neck, it all reminds him that you’re meant for each other. Let him stay there, he’ll have the biggest, softest smile of contentment.

Seungmin: He’d have never guessed it about himself, but the habit he develops is twirling you. Taking your hand the moment you step out dressed in something new and giving you a spin to see it all around. Raising your joined hands above his head when you’re bored just to see you giggle and complete the turn, every feature of yours he loves on full display. When you return the favor, reaching up in a clear juxtaposed lead, it brings such a genuine laugh from him he knows he’ll never forget it.

I.N: He calls it ‘standing up cuddles’, you’d call it a backhug or the like. Reaching his hands around your waist and clutching yours close, he can rest his head in the crook of your neck or maybe atop yours. Sway you both back and forth until someone caves and bursts into merry giggles. Your heartbeat against him from any angle is music to his nerves, well, so to speak, the rhythm by which he guides his impromptu slow dances with you.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #i.n #stray kids x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #fluff

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littlemelaninfics · 3 days

Text

Surprise, Surprise

a/n: I had this mostly written in my drafts before Bi!Buck actually became canon and wanted to finish it, so enjoy <3 (18+ ONLY)

Warnings: pregnant reader, fluff (whoa! Cali writes fluff? Don’t get used to it 😉)

“Is y/n feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Because she looks - Well she looks a little-“

“Hot.” Maddie said.

“Yeah that,” Chim agreed while pointing to Maddie.

“Hot?” Buck asked furrowing his brow.

“As in sexy. Foxy. Hot!” Maddie said very bluntly that even had her husband looking at her. Athena and Hen scurried to the three at the kitchen island to join in,

“You guys talking about Y/n?” Hen asked.

“I don’t mean to be suggestive as I am a woman of class, but whatever you’re doing Buck, keep doing it,” Athena nodded as she raised her glass to the gals.

“It’s not that she wasn’t THAT before now, but we haven’t seen her in a while and she looks and even feels different. I can feel her vibe from here,” Hen said as she playfully grasped at the air in your direction.

“Uh, heh, yeah. I guess things are a little different,” Buck said while looking back at you sweetly,

“Uh, I mean, things are good! Great even! That’s why you guys are here. We wanted to see everyone in one room for once,” Buck smiled, “so glad you’re all here.” Buck sipped on his beer before his foot got stuck any further down his throat.

The get together was in full swing when you went and grabbed the extra bag of ice from the freezer. Buck saw you out of the corner of his eye and practically flew out of his pants rushing over to you. Eddie saw the interaction from across the room and squinted his eyebrows in his chismoso ways. He migrated to the group by the counter with a full on detective look on his face,

“Y’all saw that, right?”

“You mean the way Buck Scooby-Doo’ed his way out of his seat to help a grown woman carry 10 pounds of ice? Yeah.” Hen confirmed. All heads turned to Eddie waiting for an explanation.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“You’re his best friend,” Maddie said matter of factly.

“You’re his sister,” Eddie mocked back.

“I mean it would explain the changes we all see,” Hen shrugged her shoulders.

“The glowing skin, thicker hair, filled out in the appropriate places…” Athena drifted off.

“The cravings, the mood swings, the crying…” Chimney chimed in. Now all heads swifted his way,

“I saw her last Thursday-

“Chimney!”

“Dude!”

“What!? I wasn’t paying attention to anything except the safety and well being of my Jiyung. But it does make a little more sense now…”

They stared on as Buck kissed you on your forehead and took the ice to the cooler. Bobby rounded the corner in the backyard and made his way over to you, giving you the biggest hug. The group realizes he’s pointing to Buck a lot and using grand gestures,

“Think he knows something?” Hen asked Athena who just looked on. Bobby went to head inside when he spotted the gathering at the counter and immediately stopped in his tracks to turn the other way.

“He knows!” Eddie said has he raced around the counter, beating Bobby to bathroom,

“Hey Cap! What’s up?”

“What’s up, Eddie?”

“Nothin. Just hangin out, you know,” he said with a big smile and deep eye contact trying to read his Captain.

Feeling awkward,

“Alright well, I’m gonna..” Bobby said as he motioned to the bathroom.

“Yeah, man! For sure! We’ll be right out here!” Eddie walked back to the island.

“He’s not coming out,” Chimney said, “Do you think that’s why everyone’s here? So they can tell us all?”

“I guess we’ll find out, but we can’t in good conscience harass Bobby into telling us,” Athena said as she was the first to walk off.

The party went on for another hour or so when Buck called the attention of everyone,

“Y/N and I would first like to start off by thanking you all for being here. It means a lot to us that we can see the people we love and care about all together and creating memories. That’s why today is so special. Uh, it has come to my attention that some of you may be guessing…” he said as he turned his attention to his family and they turned to Bobby who kept his eyes wide and trained forward,

“My wife and I have created our true dream life and forever team. We’ve been through so much together and have been privileged to have had all of you by our side along the way. Which is why we are-words can’t even describe this feeling, but we are beyond blessed to announce that we are expecting our first child-”

The party erupted in cheer and Bobby let out a sigh of relief before joining in on the applause. Buck never got to finish his speech before parents were coming up to you both and giving hugs.

“You knew?” Athena asked Bobby.

“For 3 weeks now. He said he needed to tell someone but knew it was too early to tell everyone.”

“Ohh, so in the end you just respecting Buck’s wishes?” She delivered with a playful side eye.

“Exactly,” he said leaning down to kiss her forehead and pull her in.

#evan buckley x black!reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley #buck 911 #eddie 911 #911 on abc #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley fluff #911 imagine #eddie diaz 911 #eddie diaz #gay firefighter show #bi!buck

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 7 months

Text

In Your Eyes

Steve Harrington x Best Friend!Reader

2.5k words

Warnings: Pining, fluff, tiny angst

You loved your job at Family Video. Movies were an obsession of yours, so having access to them at a discount was a great perk. The store was only a few blocks from your house, so you saved tons on gas and could easily bum rides off people when your dad couldn’t loan you the car. The hours didn’t suck, and the pay was decent. The best part of your job, however, was working with friends—except for the moments when Robin Buckley decided to tease you about your love life.

“You know, I’m pretty sure he’s in love with you,” Robin piped up as the two of you grabbed candy from the back for a restock.

You shook your head. “Steve? Yeah, right,” you scoffed.

“Come on. He talks about you all the time, he lights up like a Christmas tree when you enter the room, he kind of can’t keep his eyes off you, he makes me switch shifts with him so he can work with you-”

“Yeah, because he knows he can get me to mop up at the end of the night,” you grumbled, folding your arms across your chest.

Robin smirked. “Because you’re in love with him,” she pointed out.

“In love with who?”

Steve Harrington stood in the doorway, sliding his Family Video vest over his shoulders, ready to start his shift. He cocked an eyebrow at you; you prayed that he couldn’t see how shaky your legs suddenly became.

“John Cusack,” you blurted out, shooting Robin a look that silently begged her to shut her mouth.

Steve nodded slowly. “John Cusack,” he repeated. “He was one of the geeky guys in Sixteen Candles, right? And he was in that movie you dragged me to like five times? The one where he’s got the boom box like this.” He lifted his arms in the air over his head, mimicking one of your favorite movie moments.

“Say Anything,” you confirmed softly, your heart skipping a beat at the sight in front of you. “Yeah, I loved that one.”

The three of you stood in your small circle for a moment, Robin’s eyes darting back and forth between you and Steve as neither you said another word. These silences had been happening more and more lately; part of you wondered if Steve had figured out your feelings and was looking for a way to let you down gently.

In almost all your memories from the time you could walk up through middle school, Steve was there. Even when you wound up in different circles in high school, you would still find him climbing through your window in the middle of the night just to talk or share a snack or listen to music. It wasn’t something his girlfriends liked, but he always assured him that you were just friends.

Just friends. You hated the little twisty feeling that appeared in your stomach when you thought of those two little words. From the moment thirteen-year-old Steve had sat next to you on your bed and pressed his lips to yours for the first time, you were a goner. The funny thing was, you hadn’t even wanted to kiss him; you only agreed because he was your best friend, and he was begged you to let him get this milestone “out of the way”. But by the time he crawled back out your window and was scurrying across the street to his house, you were head-over-heels in love with the boy.

And here you were now, years down the road, still melting at the sight of his stupidly perfect hair and deep brown eyes. Another perk of your Family Video job.

“Well,” Robin finally said, clearing her throat. “Let’s get this candy out there before a customer comes in.” She gave Steve a gentle punch in the arm as the two of you walked past him. “See you out there,” she called over her shoulder as Steve moved to clock in.

As you and Robin walked back to the front of the store, she raised her eyebrows at you.

“You’re really obvious, you know that?” she scoffed. “I don’t get how he doesn’t know you’re nuts about him.”

“Robin!” you hissed, snapping your head towards the office door Steve would be coming through at any moment. “Please!” Robin rolled her eyes, but for once she shut her mouth.

“You need to tell him.”

You and Robin laid down on your bed, the English Beat playing on the record player on your dresser. Hanging out after work had turned into dinner had turned into a sleepover; it was just past midnight, and you were at the point of the evening where one of you usually blurted something out just to annoy the other one.

“Enough, Robin,” you muttered, rolling onto your stomach. Your eyes landed on your dresser, where a framed photo of you and Steve sat. It was from your first-ever middle school dance, which Steve had taken you to. Another first the two of you shared. You could still remember the weird feeling in your stomach when Steve placed his hands carefully on your waist during the slow songs; you now recognized that the feeling was butterflies. Almost as if your body knew how you felt about Steve before your brain did.

Robin followed your gaze and lit up at the sight of the photograph. “You two are adorable,” she mockingly gushed. She hopped off the bed and skipped over to the picture. Before she could lift it, she paused, and your heart froze when you remembered what was next to the picture.

A few nights ago, after pining particularly hard over Steve during a movie night, you had locked yourself in your closet and penned a letter to him. In it, you spilled your guts: I love you… I can’t stop thinking about you… I wish you would notice me… It was utterly cringe-worthy, and you had every intention of burning the damn thing. But of course, Robin found it before your lazy ass could toss it in the fireplace.

Her jaw dropped as she snatched the letter and her eyes scanned it quickly. You didn’t even bother getting up to fight her for it; it was nothing she hadn’t already heard you whine about anyway. She finally looked back up at you, her gaze softer now. You clutched your pillow and squirmed awkwardly.

“Don’t laugh,” you half-whispered.

Robin sighed. “Seriously,” she said gently. “You need to tell him.” She left the letter on the dresser and rejoined you on the bed, propping herself up on her elbow. Her devilish grin returned. “Or I will.”

The next morning, Robin woke up early and quietly left for her opening shift at Family Video, promising to see you later when you went in for your afternoon shift. So, you happily laid in bed for about an hour before deciding to get up and get yourself ready for the day. After a hot shower, you returned to your room and opened your dresser drawer. As you began to grab your things, you realized that something felt… off.

“Oh no,” you gasped as you scanned the top off your dresser. There were your perfumes… your jewelry box… the photo of you and Steve…

“Where’s the letter?” you choked out, scrambling to move things around, knowing full well that the letter was gone.

You sank to the floor, pulling your towel tighter around you, as if it would somehow protect you from what you knew would be impending embarrassment. “Robin,” you muttered through gritted teeth.

Just as you were planning your revenge, the phone rang. Your mother called your name, shouting that Robin was on the other end. You quickly grabbed the phone you had in your room and answered.

“Robin-”

“Heeeeey,” Robin greeted slowly as you both heard the click of your mother hanging up on her end. “Think you could come in a bit early? Steve, uh, called out today.”

Heat rose to your face. “Robin, did you-”

“Just, uh, come in, okay? We’ll chat once you’re here.” Click.

The tone of fear and nerves was not one you often heard from Robin. You resisted the urge to slam your head against the wall, hoping that somehow your best girlfriend had not destroyed your life.

A customer jumped at the sound of the slamming door as you entered Family Video. You made a beeline for the counter, where Robin was sorting a stack of videos. She winced at the sight of you, her cheeks turning deep red.

“Heeeeeey best friend,” she called in a hopeful, sing-song voice.

“Where is it?” you hissed, glancing around to make sure there were no customers in earshot.

Robin cleared her throat and shuffled her feet. “See, funny story….” She glanced up at the ceiling, as if the words she needed were typed above her head. “I kind of… gave it to Steve.”

Several customers looked up at the inhuman screech that came out of your mouth.

“What the hell, Robin?” you groaned, burying your burning face in your hands. “Why would you do that? What did he say?”

“Okay, so,” Robin started. “I, uh, gave Steve the letter in the office. And he read it, I guess. And then he came out and said he was going home… and just walked out.” Robin lifted her hands to her face, as if she thought you would hit her. Which, honestly, sounded like a good idea.

Your chest tightened with anxiety. “And?”

“That’s it,” Robin answered. “I haven’t heard from him since.”

Tears stung in your eyes. Great. Steve now knew you loved him. And he left work so he wouldn’t have to see you, so he wouldn’t have to tell you that no, he did not like you that way. He would probably go on yet another date and laugh about your stupid letter with whatever girl he had on his arm. And he would never, ever speak to you again, except maybe to ask you to switch shifts with him so he could go out with some beautiful girl.

“I’m so sorry,” Robin whispered, interrupting your panicked thoughts. The pain in her eyes melted your heart a bit. Deep down, you knew she had done what she did out of her affection for you. “I thought-”

Sighing, you shook your head. “Let me just clock in,” you said, defeat echoing in your voice.

After a long shift, an awkward dinner at Robin’s house, and a quick shower, you planted yourself on your bed, determined to distract yourself with a book. Through your closed window you could hear the distant sound of music as you finally hit a rhythm with your book, but it was muffled under the melancholy sound of The Cure coming from your stereo.

Two quick knocks at the door interrupted you. Your dad poked his head in, exasperation on his face.

“Honeybee?”

“Yeah, Dad?”

Your dad sighed. “Can you tell Steven to go home? I’m trying to sleep, and I have no patience for him and his antics right now.”

“Steve?” Your breath hitched slightly at the mention of his name. This was it. He was on your front porch, letter in hand, ready to confront you over your stupid, stupid crush and tell you that your friendship was over, that eighteen years of laughter and memories was down the drain because you couldn’t help yourself from writing that letter and Robin couldn’t help meddling.

You jumped out of bed and scurried past your dad, begging your heart to quiet down, praying that Steve wouldn’t be able to hear it. It was so loud in your ears that you once again were barely noticing the music that continued outside as you reached the front door. Taking a deep breath, you reached out and turned the doorknob.

As you opened the door, you finally recognized the sound of one of your favorite REO Speedwagon songs wafting across the yard to you. But your attention was focused on the sight on your lawn:

Steve Harrington, King Steve, your Steve, was standing in the middle of the grass, his hair more tousled than usual, with his arms in the air, holding up the boom box that usually sat in his room. From the boom box you could hear the words-

And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight

You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

It's time to bring this ship into the shore

And throw away the oars, forever

You let your eyes wander down from the boom box to Steve’s face. At the sight of you in the porchlight, his whole body seemed to soften, and you swore you heard him let out a gentle sigh. You quietly closed the door behind you and stepped off the porch. Steve met you in the middle of the sidewalk, allowing his boom box to fall to his side and setting it on the ground between you.

“I couldn’t find that Peter Gabriel song,” Steve blurted, gesturing at the still-playing boom box. “So I thought… I mean you like REO, right? You play them all the time in the car.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, blinking rapidly and rubbing his fingers together.

You’d seen Steve flirt plenty of times with plenty of girls. He was confident, charming, funny, and incredibly sure of himself. He made jokes and smirked and offered sly compliments. And he often left the interaction with plans for a date, shooting cocky winks at you and Robin. But that wasn’t Steve right now. His eyes were full of uncertainty as they flickered everywhere but your own eyes.

“Steve, what’re you doing?” You took a small step towards Steve, trying to make everything make sense.

A flicker of that King Steve grin flashed across his face. “You said the end of Say Anything was the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen. So, I thought I’d give it a shot.”

In spite of your nerves, you couldn’t help but smile back. “And why in the world would you do that?”

“So I can do this.”

Steve took your face in his hands and tugged you towards him, pressing his lips to yours for the second time in your life. Just like last time, your heart skipped several beats and your mind was filled with nothing but Steve. Sighing into the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling his body against yours, wondering how you’d survived going this long between lip locks with Steve Harrington.

When Steve finally pulled back, you both broke out into fits of shy giggles, giddiness evident on both of your faces.

“That was a hell of a lot better than last time,” Steve teased, giving your nose a small peck.

Rolling your eyes, you gave him a little shove. “Yeah, looks like you finally know what you’re doing, Harrington.”

His eyebrows flew up. “Oh, that’s how it is, huh?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, pulling him back in for another kiss. “That’s how it is.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington x you

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softtdaisy · 11 months

Note

charles + "please don't tell me we we fell asleep like this."

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Words: 953

A/n: i want what reader has in this story, that’s all i have to say

Ever since you met Charles, each one of your friends was convinced you would be dating anytime soon.

You had mutual friends but never really hung out together. Until you finally attended a Grand Prix weekend. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go there before, you just never really got the time. So when your friends found the perfect opportunity to drag you there, you couldn’t say no.

There was something magnetic about Charles. You realized that through the weekend, when you met him before a race and would give you that beautiful smile that made his dimples glow. Or when he would give you a look after the qualifications as if he had been looking for you. Like he was waiting for you to congratulate him for the pole. And you noticed all of this because you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

But it wasn’t until the party held on Sunday night, to celebrate his win, that your friends really started to bet on your future relationship. They noticed the look you gave each other across the room, or the way he clenched his drink so hard they thought he would break it when he saw you talking with someone else. The confirmation that the universe was creating something in front of their eyes went after.

When, after a few drinks, you both started to sing some Abba songs together to the point he even threatened the dj to keep playing them. There were tons and tons of videos from that night; you singing, dancing together because of course you created some choreographies. Everyone told you it was obvious.

Was it really?

You started to hang out with them more. And went to different race weekends after this one. You told your friends that it wasn’t for Charles, that you just fell in love with the feeling of being there. And you weren’t technically lying.

Charles was just more involved than you wanted to admit.

But that doesn’t mean you started to date. No. You were just flirting all the time. From leaving each other's subtle messages, to wink and smile across the room even if everyone could see that. From Charles giving you his Ferrari sweater because you were cold to letting him put his head on your shoulder, and playing with his hair, because he was tired after the race.

You were attracted to each other. You appreciated each other more than you were willing to admit. Yet, you were both scared of starting something new and serious. The idea of being together came with the fear of losing the other. And none of you were ready for that yet.

Your friends were going crazy over this. And when you all decided to go on vacation together during the summer break, they were convinced you would face your feelings and finally admit you loved each other.

The first night was not conclusive. Expect for the moment where Charles refused someone’s advances by looking at you and saying that he already had somebody on his mind. Joris almost hit him when he heard him. “And you can’t say that to her, imbécile?”

The following days were not either, except for some soft moments like tasting the others’ ice cream or putting sunscreen on each other. A moment your friends qualified as almost erotic. It wasn't. At least you hope it wasn’t.

Then it happened.

There was one night where you couldn’t go out because of the weather. So you spent the evening all together in the villa, partying and having fun. Probably the best night from the whole vacation.

The following morning, when you woke up, you didn’t recognize your bed. First, because normally it smelled like laundry and cotton. This time, it smelled great. Different. Better.

Second, because you knew damn well that nobody was sleeping in your bed normally. And this time, you didn’t feel the mattress. Nope. You felt a chest against yours, legs tangled with yours and someone’s breath on your hair.

You weren’t on your bed. And you weren’t alone.

You just had to open one eye to know who was holding on in its arms. Even if, honestly, you already knew from your heart beating faster and this peaceful feeling you had when you woke up. Charles was sleeping like a baby against you, with a soft smile on his face. Like he was having the best night of his life.

You appreciated this moment, trying to memorize this feeling of waking up next to Charles to feel it forever. Until it hit you. If you weren’t in a bedroom, that meant anyone could see you like this. “Please don't tell me, we fell asleep like this." you mumbled for yourself, hoping that maybe it happened after everyone went to sleep.

“Oh yes you did.” you heard someone say. You looked up and saw Joris, with his coffee mug in his hand and a proud smile on his face. He laughed at your shocked face. “Don’t worry, we took pictures to remember this.”

You put your arms up to give him the middle finger. Which, of course, made him laugh even harder. But then you felt your arm being pulled down again by Charles. “Hmhm pas encore.” he mumbled against your hair.

“Good night, les amoureux.” Joris laughed before going outside to drink his coffee. You rolled your eyes before letting yourself cuddle against Charles again. What’s the point of enjoying this moment? Everyone already knew. And you loved being in the arms of the man that you love.

Because let’s be honest. You don’t dream of waking up like this every single day if you don’t love the person next to you.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #Charles Leclerc fic #Charles Leclerc fanfic #f1 #f1 story #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff #my writing

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reysdriver · 4 months

Text

His & Hers | S.B.

part 2 of Wife; you and Sirius go on a bonding (and very flirtatious) shopping trip — sirius x fem!pureblood!reader fluff

warnings: reader has just recently escaped an abusive, pureblood family, sirius and reader were in a young arranged marriage

words: 1.1k

It took a little bit of time, but once it really set in that you were going to be staying with the Potters for at least a little while, you were forced to think about what else you needed with you. When leaving your own dreadful home, you had packed and taken off in quite a rush, neglecting many ordinary things.

Euphemia promised to take you down for a shopping trip down at Diagon Alley. You really didn’t want to inconvenience anyone so you tried to tell her it wasn't necessary, but she insisted the family had been meaning to take a trip there anyways—even though you could tell she was just trying to make you feel better.

You went along with it, so here you were now in Diagon Alley with a list of things you needed to get back on your feet.

James went off to browse the newest Quidditch equipment in stores, his parents went to run a few errands around the alley, but Sirius insisted on staying back and shopping with you.

You could feel him peering at the list over your shoulder, and your suspicions were confirmed when he started reading it aloud. “Quills, paper, toiletries— Love, I know the Potters have all of that and they’ll be more than willing to share.”

You had been getting closer over the last few days, but the nickname still sent a flock of butterflies loose in your stomach every single time. The both of you walked into the second hand store and the butterflies got worse when he opened the door for you.

“I’m sure they do.” You responded. “But I don’t want to be dependent on them. No offence.”

The last part was teasing, but he would never take the bait like that.

“None taken, actually.” Sirius said proudly. “The Potters are all lovely people.”

“If you love them so much, why don’t you marry them?”

You were trying hard at this point to tease. At least it seemed like you were getting a reaction now.

“Well, I don’t know.” He chuckled. “I mean, I could start with the fact that I’m already married.”

Your jaw dropped as you feigned shock. “You’ve been married this whole time? I can’t believe you, Sirius Black.”

You admired how he played along. He rolled his eyes and his mouth formed a small smirk.

“I know, I can’t deny I can be a player sometimes, I’m sorry.” He ran his hands along a frilly dress beside you. “Actually, I don’t even know why I’m here with you because my wife is pretty great.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and pretended to look at some skirts so you wouldn’t fold immediately. “Yeah? Tell me about her.”

“Where do I even start? We were actually set up by our families, but it may be the only thing my parents ever did right. She was the fittest girl in school even though I would never admit it at the time, she’s way too good for me, she even ran away from her horrid family and came straight to find me. But there is something…” He sighed like there was something huge he needed to get off his chest.

You tilted your head to the side and decided to travel down whatever road he was heading. “And what might that be?”

“Well, a few things actually.” And your interest was piqued even further. He picked up a thin scarf and started waving it around dramatically as he spoke. “First is that I have no idea if she even likes me back, and second is that she’s only been living with me for a few days and she’s already made it abundantly clear she intends on getting her own place—”

You cut him off there, grabbing the scarf to stop its movement. You were both smiling at each other as he moved with the scarf when you pulled it closer.

“You’re making this wonderful wife of yours seem like she hates you.” You softened, and your attention switched to the half-used rolls of fabric on the dusty shelves. “I already told you, I am getting my own place soon. And if we get closer and decide that our marriage was a good idea, then you’re absolutely free to move in with me.”

“Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want that to happen, but there was no way you were going to tell him that right now.

“Look!” Sirius got your attention, holding up a soft, barely-used roll of fabric. “We can even get some ‘his and hers’ robes made from this stuff!”

“I think matching housecoats is just a thing for couples.”

His eyebrow raised and he looked down at you like what you just said was completely ridiculous. “And what’s the problem?”

“You and I aren’t a couple.” Obviously.

“Well, that can be changed easily. I think it’s about time we go house hunting together.”

You rolled your eyes, and started walking down the store’s aisle, away from Sirius. He was absolutely not going to see you blush as you told him this next bit.

“You at least have to take me on a date if you want to buy a house with me.”

He followed where you walked. Though you couldn’t see his face, you knew that stupid, annoying, super sexy smirk was back on him.

“This isn’t a date?” He asked.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

No, not really. You supposed it sort of was a date. It was just the two of you here, and the way you talk isn’t quite how people talk to each other when they’re just friends. You could really only think of one defence in favour of it not being a date.

“You never asked me out on this date. You have to ask someone to go on the date for it to be a real one.”

Sirius threw his head back dramatically, rolling his eyes and letting out a loud sigh.

“Will you make this a date with me, love?”

He held out his hand, asking you to take it and make this a real date like you had said.

Putting an end to his anxious suffering, you placed your hand atop his and intertwined your fingers.

“Yes, I’ll go on a date with you, Sirius.” You told him in mock defeat. “Now pick up that fabric you liked. If the date goes well, I’ll think about having those robes made.”

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fluff

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pink-sparkly-witch · 5 months

Text

The Widow Timestamp: I Love You

Summary: Sam tells Y/N that he loves her for the first time. This is basically PWP.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Jared Padalecki Character for @j3bingo

Warnings: flirting, kissing, smut, fingering, hand job, p in v.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: My first journey into Sam smut… please be kind 😅 Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up with The Widow here!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

SAM’S POV

“Hey, Dean,” Sam says as he answers his phone.

“Sammy, you better not bail on me tonight,” Dean grumbles, getting straight to the point as always.

“I’ll be there,” he responds. Honestly, the week he’s had at work, meeting his dad and brother at a bar on a Friday night is the last thing he wants or needs right now. A night lounging in sweats, eating Chinese food, and watching a movie he didn’t need to use too much brain power for, is what he really wants to be doing.

“Good. Just checking. Can only get you away from the office if it’s for your girl these days, so…” Dean said.

“Yeah,” Sam chuckles. “Sorry about that. She, uh…” he trails off with a chuckle, lost in thoughts of his girlfriend.

“I know, Sammy,” Dean says, and Sam can hear the smile in his older brother’s voice. “She can’t come, right?” he checks.

“No, it’s her friend’s birthday, so they’re having a girls night,” Sam says, sounding slightly less enthusiastic than he meant to.

“What’s the matter? Y/N got you so pussy whipped already that you can’t stand the thought of being away from her for one night?” Dean laughs, and Sam chuckles along with him.

His brother isn’t completely wrong. He and Y/N have been dating for almost three months and are blissfully in the honeymoon period of their relationship, where they can’t get enough of each other or bear to be apart for too long.

“No, it’s… I’m just tired, is all. It’s been a long week at the office. And it’s the firm’s family day tomorrow, so I’ll see Y/N then, anyway.”

“That’s right. She’s meeting all the big guns for the first time! Are you nervous?” Dean asks, and Sam sighs loudly.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t be. I mean, who cares if they like her, right? Because I do, and that’s all that matters. It’s just… if I want to make partner one day, things like stable relationships and who your other half is seems to have a say in it,” Sam admits.

“They’re gonna love her, man. I think it’d be hard for anyone not to fall in love with her,” Dean reassures him. “You found a good one, Sammy. Hold onto her.”

“I know, I will.”

Despite his earlier reluctance to spend the night in a bar with his dad and brother, Sam is having a great time. With work and Y/N, it’d been a while since he’s spent this much time with them, making him feel a little guilty.

Sam’s worries about his dad and Dean teasing him about ‘his girl’ are quickly dampened when his dad asks if things are serious between them. Both men had smiled and clapped him on the back at his confirmation that it was and that he was confident she was it for him. The only slightly teasing remark so far has been from his dad.

“Better start saving for a ring, son,” John chuckles.

With both men grinning at him like idiots, Sam feels a hand slide across his shoulders. “I’m flattered, but I have a girlfriend,” he says without turning around.

“No, I’m flattered,” Y/N responds, and he smiles before turning to face his girlfriend. “And very reassured.”

“Hey, baby. What are you doing here? I thought girls’ night was across town?” Sam asks as he stands to kiss her.

“Well,” Y/N huffs with a roll of her eyes. “It was, and we were having a great time, but Charlie dragged us all the way over here because she found out the girl she’s crushing on works here. And, you know, can’t say no to the birthday girl!”

“Well, can’t say I’m not happy about that,” Sam chuckles, placing his arm around her shoulders. “You look beautiful, baby.”

“Thank you,” she smiles and glances down his body before she speaks again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear plaid before. I like it. It’s a good look on you,” she stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

“Noted,” Sam chuckles, and Y/N giggles.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this lovey-dovey bullcrap. Makes me wanna vomit,” Dean winks to show his jest and stands from the table. “Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?”

“No, thanks,” Y/N shakes her head. “I have one waiting for me at my table and probably three tequila shots by now. I just wanted to come over and say hi.”

“Do you, uh, wanna come to my place when you’re, you know?” Sam asks quietly, hoping it’s quiet enough that only she can hear him. His dad’s chuckle and Dean’s slap on the back, and a “Get it, Sammy!” make him want a hole to open in the ground and swallow him.

Y/N laughs, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment before he watches her take a deep breath and pull herself together.

“I’d love to, Sam. But the cardinal rule of girls night is that you can’t bail on girls night. Especially for a guy. You know that, right? It’s the whole ‘chicks before dicks’ thing. So, there is no way I’m getting to sneak away from that,” Y/N points to the table of women laughing loudly and downing shots, “before midnight.”

“I’ll wait up,” Sam grins charmingly with a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes, watching Y/N’s facial expressions intently as she takes in and interprets his meaning.

“Well, alright then. Guess I’ll see you later,” Y/N said, biting on her plump bottom lip.

“Yeah, you will. Have a good night, baby,” Sam leans down and presses another kiss to her lips.

“You too,” Y/N smirks, pulling Sam down by the lapels of his shirt for one last kiss. “It was good to see you again, John,” she smiles as she reluctantly parts from Sam.

“And you, sweetheart,” John smiles. “You’ll be over for dinner on Sunday, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Y/N returns his smile before turning her attention to the eldest Winchester son. “Dean, that table,” she gestures in the general direction of where her friends are, “is out of bounds.”

“What? But why? Come on, Y/N! There are some real hotties over—” Dean tries, but Y/N’s warning scowl and raised eyebrow make him back down.

“I mean it, Dean! I don’t want my friends badgering me for your number, or with questions about what they did wrong, or asking me to ask Sam to ask you why you didn’t call,” Y/N chuckles.

“Fine,” Dean huffs in resignation before walking over to the bar.

“Good. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Y/N’S POV

12:45am

The cab pulls away from the curb, and you walk up the path to Sam’s house. Stopping at the door, you take a second to fluff your hair. You’ve never been like this before; never bothering too much about your appearance and certainly never for a guy. Still, you found yourself touching up your makeup and perfume before leaving the bar to come over here, making sure you look perfect for him.

You ring the doorbell and nervously shuffle from foot to foot, wondering if the butterflies you feel with Sam will ever go away. You hope not, as the flutter turns into a swarm when you hear the door unlocking.

“Hey, baby,” Sam smirks, eyes slowly taking in every inch of you. “Glad you came.”

“Well,” you grin as Sam steps to the side, inviting you into his home. “I know what kinda night I’m in for, and I would be a fool to miss out on this.” You trail your fingers up his chest, grab the neck of his t-shirt, and pull him down to meet your lips, kicking the door closed behind you.

Sam pushes his tongue into your mouth and shoves you against the door. He quickly turns the lock, shutting you in for the night. The kiss is hot and heavy, and you whimper as his fingers tug at the zip of your dress.

You shimmy the material down your body and let it pool at your feet, leaving you only in cobalt blue lace underwear. Sam growls, grabbing your thighs and pulling you up his body. You wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, as his lips find their place on your cleavage, licking and sucking your skin.

Sam’s hand trails up your back and into your hair, pulling it hard enough to force your head back and gain access to your neck. He sucks and nips gently, cautious not to leave a mark, knowing tomorrow is an important day for both of you.

“Sam,” you groan, and fuck, is it the neediest and most pathetic you’ve ever heard yourself. “Need you.”

“Yeah?” Sam rasps, his voice deepened with lust. “Right here, baby?”

“Yes,” you gasp, already breathless, and he’s barely touched you yet.

Sliding his hand over your thigh and pushing it between your bodies, Sam pulls your underwear to the side and, without warning, shoves two fingers inside you. He barely lets you adjust to the intrusion as he immediately begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your tight, wet channel, smirking as you moan his name.

Curling his fingers inside you, he watches your head fall back and thump against the door. “Fuck,” you grunt, your hands dropping from his shoulders and desperately fumbling with his belt. You love it when Sam builds the pleasure and teases you, but you can’t, not tonight. Tonight you need him now.

“Hey, what’s the hurry, baby? We’ve got all night,” Sam chuckles, but you don’t stop undoing his pants, finally pulling his belt loose and moving quickly to the button on his jeans.

With his jeans finally undone, your hand delves into his boxers and finds their prize. Sam is already fully hard, and you grip his cock and pump your fist as best you can while pinned against his door.

Sam growls when your thumb swipes over his sensitive head, turning you on even more. The wet sound that gets louder and louder with every pump of his fingers inside you should embarrass you, but instead, you moan.

“Fuck, baby,” Sam groans lowly into your ear. “I need to be in you.”

“Yes! Please, Sam,” you whimper as his fingers suddenly leave you empty and wanting. He pulls your hands off his cock and teases your clit with its tip before he pushes inside you in one slow thrust.

“Shit,” you whine, still not used to his generous length stretching and filling you so completely. You’ve never had anyone reach so deeply within you, and you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

Sam holds himself fully sheathed inside you, this time allowing your fluttering walls time to stretch to accommodate him, and his lips find yours in a passionate kiss that’s all teeth and tongue.

The second you feel yourself relax around him, he pulls out to the tip and slams back in, punching the air from your lungs. He doesn’t let up, pounding into you ferociously, and your high builds quickly.

Sam’s large hands grip your thighs, and you groan loudly, trying to remember to choose a long dress or pants to wear tomorrow because you can already feel bruises forming where his fingertips are digging into your soft muscle.

It’s become one of your favourite things; the colourful little bruises that litter your skin thanks to his groping hands. He’s an animal in the bedroom, but when it’s over, he always places soft kisses on every mark he leaves in his carnal state.

“Sam, I’m close,” you whine as you slide your hands into his hair and tug on the long strands.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know. I can feel it,” Sam says through gritted teeth. Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you, and you growl in frustration, tugging his hair harder to emphasise your displeasure.

“What the—? Sam, come on! I was nearly there!” You whine, pouting at him when he chuckles, tightening his grip on you and walking towards the sofa.

“I know, and I wanna watch you,” Sam smirks, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“Watch me?” you murmur breathlessly.

“I wanna watch you come, and I wanna do it while you ride me.” Sam’s lopsided smirk creates another pool of wetness in your core, and you seem to have lost the ability to speak. “Is that alright, baby?” You nod and gulp, your words still failing you.

“Alright,” Sam says as he unwraps your legs from his waist and puts you down on shaky legs. He pulls your underwear down enough that it falls to your feet before ridding himself of all his clothing.

“Then get riding.” He smacks your ass, sits on the couch, and waits for you to climb onto his lap. You stretch your arms behind your back, ready to unclasp your bra, but Sam clicking his tongue stops you.

“Uh uh, baby. Leave it on,” Sam grins, and you smirk as you finally climb onto his lap and take his cock in your hand, placing it at your entrance and sinking down slowly. When your skin meets his, your head falls back with a gasp.

Sam’s hands drag up your body, pausing to toy with your nipples behind the blue lace. He slides the straps down your shoulders, exposing your hardening buds to the cool air briefly before his lips cover one and his hand the other.

Raising your hips up and down his length, you find a rhythm and angle that lets you feel every ridge of him glide perfectly between your walls, hitting all the right spots and making you see stars.

“Sam, baby, I…” You grind your hips through your orgasm, and Sam grunts as your walls clench him.

“That’s it, good girl,” Sam murmurs, kissing your sweat-slicked chest. “Hold onto me, baby.” He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders; you know it’s his turn now, and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.

Sam lifts you and lays you on the couch, moving your hands from his shoulders and placing them above your head, trapping them with just one of his own. His other hand grips your thigh and pushes it, forcing your legs to open wide for him.

The first thrust is heaven, hitting everywhere all at once, and you and Sam’s grunting confirms that your walls are still fluttering, clenching, and sucking him in.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” Sam groans, his hips moving impossibly faster and pushing in deeper and deeper.

Your eyes roll, and you scream Sam’s name as he sends you soaring over the edge again, taking him with you.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Sam gasps, grinding himself into you, and you feel his release coat your quivering walls. “Fuck, my girl’s got a good pussy. So fucking good, baby.” You’d giggle at his praise if you hadn’t lost the ability to breathe, let alone speak.

Sam drops his head to your chest, kissing over every inch as he grinds against your cervix. You moan with every twitch of him inside you, and when his kisses turn to bites and sucks, you add a high neckline to the list of requirements for tomorrow’s outfit.

He lets go of your hands, and they instantly go to him, wrapping around his back and holding him against you for a little longer.

“I love you,” Sam says, leaving your breasts alone to look at you.

“Yeah?” you smile widely. It’s the first time either of you has said it, and it feels good. It feels right. “You’re not just saying that in your post-orgasmic haze?” you chuckle.

“No. I have for a while now. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Sam.”

Tags: @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @octoberclidan @nelachu2423 @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567

#j3bingo #the widow #timestamp #au sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester

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mochimooon · 6 months

Text

DTF Only (Let's Experiment) - connie springer x reader 18+

pairing: Connie Springer x afab! Reader summary: Connie invites you to a kick-back for some playtime ;) word count: 3500+ notes: Part 4 of DTF Only. My first piece with Connie, don't know what took me so long to write for him because this was more fun than I thought ! I need to write more of him. (Indented text refers to Reader's messages). Thank you to those who gave me ideas of what kind of tattoos Connie would have on this post. I appreciate the inspo! warnings: smut, explicit content, explicit language, handjobs, vaginal sex ☻ masterpost☻

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!

You declined Reiner’s offer to stay over. He was still kind of enough to drive you home afterwards. While you had fun with him, you didn’t want to make it awkward for him when he had to check out of the hotel.

Exhausted, you collapse onto your bed after your nighttime routine, reopening Tinder before you go to sleep.

A new message from another match came through a few hours earlier.

Hey there!!!!! What’s up? Wanna hang?

Tapping on Connie’s profile, you see that he’s currently active.

The enthusiasm is nice, but you take the time to assess his profile and pictures like you did with Reiner and Porco.

Light brown hair, kept on the shorter side, cartilage piercings on one ear, and as seen in every photo, a tattoos along his arm. You can’t make out what they are, however. He’s another cutie. You always knew you had good taste as far looks go.

Judging from the pictures, he’s a musician, whether professional or amateur, you don’t know, seated behind a drum set with a video of him in action. The clashing of symbols and beating of drums echo loudly in your room and you can tell he’s got a lot of energy. He’s twenty-eight, so that could explain the spunk.

Switching over to his bio, you laugh.

Drummer 🥁 420 friendly 5’9”, sorry ladies, but God put the extra inches elsewhere 😉

Hey Connie In bed but would like to hang out some time Free this week?

Hey!!! I’m free rn!!! I’m a great cuddler 😉

Good to know lol

Jk You doing anything tomorrow night? My friend is hosting a kick-back, come by!

A party? On a Tuesday night? Connie’s friends must be an interesting bunch.

Haha kinda My friends have weird schedules, so we end up meeting randomly during the week A couple people, nothing wild, what do you say? Be my guest? 😁

You see no harm in it, and if you do end up sleeping with Connie, there’s a guarantee that you’ll have a room.

Yesssss!!!! It starts at 7:30p Here’s my number btw, I can send you the address through there.

You debate whether you want to exchange numbers right away.

Alright, just sent you a text.

Connie abandons the conversation on Tinder, replying via his number.

Nice! Can’t wait to meet you Anyways…what’re you wearing to bed?

Good night

…

You can hear the music playing faintly on the other side of the door, so you ring the doorbell after knocking to ensure that someone will answer.

It swings open a minute later, and you’re met with a confused looking man with blond hair.

I can never escape the blond men, you muse, straining a smile.

“Hi…” Your eyes peek over the man’s frame for any sign of Connie. “Connie invited me.”

He tilts his head, thinking for a moment when it clicks. “Oh! Oh, yeah, he said you’re coming.” He says your name and you confirm with a nod. “Cool, come inside—”

“Is she here?” a voice rings out, an octave higher than the music.

Connie sidles to the blond man, skidding to a stop like an eager dog, greeting you. “Hi! Thanks for coming by! Come in, come in, this is Niccolo by the way, it's his house.”

You and Niccolo exchange an awkward wave as you step inside, allowing Connie to slide his arm along your shoulders.

In person, his hair is a little longer, on the scruffy side; you think it suits him best, and up close you get a better look at the piercings on his ear. He’s got a total of three. He’s wearing a long-sleeve, flannel overshirt, so his tattoos are hidden from view, however you notice a small smiley tattoo peeking behind the shell of his ear.

And as he eagerly leads you through the home, asking in earnest about your day, practically skipping at your side, you’re endeared by him. He’s really cute.

The kick-back is mainly in the living room, although you did see a couple of people trickle in and out of the kitchen. Connie reels you over to the couch where a small group of friends are mingling.

“Guess who’s here in the flesh!” Connie calls their attention, squeezing your shoulder with excitement. He introduces you to each friend.

“Onyankopon,” Connie says.

You take the friendly man’s hand, recognizing him in at least one of Connie’s pictures. “Hi.”

He smiles. “Good to meet you. Connie’s been excited all night.”

“Has he?” You look to the man at your side.

Connie beams with an affirmative nod, and you breathe a laugh at that.

“Same here,” you say.

“That’s Sasha and that’s Yelena.” Connie points to two women, rolling up a spliff. “Sasha’s Niccolo’s sweetheart.” Connie lowers his voice to your ear, like it’s a secret. “And over here…”

You’re paraded around like a shiny, new toy, but you can tell it’s well-meaning. As for his friends, they’re all friendly, seizing a chance at small talk with you before Connie intervenes to introduce you to more people.

From the amount of guests, you met within the first hour, you gathered that Connie’s a popular guy, and it’s easy to see why.

He’s so friendly with everyone, eager to have you feel welcomed that you’re content just being there. But you’d be remiss to say that you didn’t want to see more of him in private.

“You’re really cute by the way,” Connie says as you both take a seat on the couch. “I told everyone that you were.”

“Thanks, Connie,” you say. “How do you know everyone?”

Sasha hands Connie the rolled spliff. He digs into the pocket of his jeans to light the end.

“Would you like a hit?” he asks. You let him know you’ll take one later, and he explains that he and Sasha have been friends since high school and that when she started dating Niccolo, he and Onyankopon needed a drummer for their band.

“We mainly play at bars for now,” Onyankopon supplies.

Connie nods after he takes a long pull. “Most of us work during the day so it works out best for us.”

“You ever date a musician before?” Sasha pipes up.

You look to Connie with a grin. “Never have.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky to have matched with Connie,” Niccolo laughs.

“I think so too,” you confirm, admiring Connie’s features. While not a typical date, you’re fine with the laid-back environment.

“Drummers are the best kinds to date.” Connie throws in. “We have the most energy, on and off the stage.” His brows wiggle.

The chemistry is so natural, it flows between you both.

“I want to witness more of the off-stage energy.”

Connie bites his lip, scooting closer.

Your knees bump. Connie stretches an arm, lacking any subtlety, a gesture ripped from a teen movie. He feigns a yawn, hand coming around, stopping short above your breast.

Without preamble, your hand slides into his thigh.

Connie stiffens, coughing up smoke into his elbow. The whole room watches him with amusement, and you snatch up the spliff to take a long pull.

“You good there, Connie?” you ask, innocuous, letting the smoke escape your lips in a stream.

Connie clears his throat. “Uh huh.”

Tilting your head, you give him a playful look. “You sure?”

“He’s got an erection,” Niccolo points out with a snort.

The others exchange humored looks but don’t tease poor Connie further.

You, on the other hand can’t help yourself, bringing the end of the spliff to Connie’s lips.

For a moment, he’s taken aback, still distracted with the frustration between his legs. When he notices you’ve leaned closer, he bites the end of the spliff, taking a drag, eyes glued to yours. You both smile, reading the others’ mind, inching closer together. You open your mouth to meet his, accepting the stream of smoke and the slide of Connie’s tongue.

It's soft, something you didn’t expect. For a moment, you’re lost in the feel of his lips, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth, sampling each other’s taste. Your hand sinks deeper between his legs, brushing against a bulge tightening underneath his jeans the same time fingers trail downwards, ghosting your breast.

Someone clears their throat.

You and Connie freeze, open mouths awkwardly hovering each other’s, both turning.

Niccolò and Onyankopon share knowing looks, and it’s the former who shakes his head at Connie.

Connie pulls away suddenly, releasing a relaxed laugh. “Oh, um…” He reaches for your hand on his lap. “I…I wanted to show you something…”

Along with Niccolò and Onyankopon, you stifle your laughter at Connie’s attempt at being slick. But you humor him anyways.

“Oh, uh huh?”

Connie nods, getting to his feet, a grin splitting his mouth. “Yeah…it’s upstairs.” He tugs your hand.

This time you can’t hold back your amusement. “Okay, show me what it is upstairs.”

Connie’s smile broadens, squeezing your hand that your pulse hitches. He drags you off.

“Connie—please don’t make a mess—”

You hear Niccolo’s voice ring out, but there’s a tone of defeat there, and you throw a brief look over your shoulder as an apology ahead of time.

Upstairs, it’s quiet, not a soul around. Connie rushes towards the nearest door by the second-floor landing and enters like it’s somewhere he’s been many times before.

The door clicks shut, you and Connie are on each other, lips and teeth clashing, roaming hands like teenagers.

Clothes fall away in a tornado. Moans echo between breathless kisses.

Connie reels back first, hands on your shoulders. His gaze drags up and down your nude body.

“Shit.” He nods again more eagerly. “You’re really something. Fucking smoke show.”

You had taken the chance to admire his body as well. Strong, lean arms, muscles flexing with every movement, and you’re finally graced with a look of his mysterious tattoos on his arm.

They vary in size, but nothing too big. A magic eight-ball, a cassette tape, some odd, geometric shape, spaced around his shoulder. A spade, a melting ice cream cone, a drum—Hello Kitty...littered along his bicep.

Trailing your hands along it, you tilt your head, curious. “What’s the story behind this one?”

Connie hitches a laugh. “No real story just got it after a gig one night. Tattoo artist said she’d do it for free if I let her pick. Most of these I got at random.”

On his forearm, there’s a larger tattoo of a bull, detailed with a backdrop of a crescent moon and toadstools. “A bull?”

Connie hums. “Yeah, I’m a Taurus, and I like that zodiac stuff. Plus, I’m strong like a bull.” On cue, he flexes his forearm, and you feel the muscle tighten at your fingertips.

“I like it.” Your eyes drift from his arm to the rest of his body. A lean torso, rising and falling with quick breaths, a toned stomach that plunges into a deep V, his dick swings, happy, erect, and inviting.

You reach for it.

Connie bristles at the contact, grinning as you stroke the shaft. Together you watch his dick twitch as you brush the tip with your thumb.

“Ooohh, that’s the spot…” He shivers. “You’re gonna make me go apeshit before I get a chance to fuck you, huh?” Peering up, he wiggles his eyebrows, and you snort.

He’s so lighthearted, it’s refreshing. Of course, you don’t mind seduction, the mind fuck, or even shameless vulgarity. But sex should be fun too. Connie’s just eager to get laid, and you can’t fault him for being open and honest about that.

He steps closer, chasing after your touch for more stimulation. “Keep going. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for your pussy—respectfully.” He adds the last part with a grin.

And you continue to stroke him, hand moving in stride as he approaches you, taking your face in his hands.

Leaning his head down, he whispers into your lips. “You know how to make a guy feel…”

His tongue slides past, moving along yours in an uneven rhythm. You both laugh, trying again, but it remains sloppy and frivolous that you don’t complain.

He makes light of it with his everlasting humor. “Making out with someone new can be a little trial and error, but we improvise…” He groans again, lifting his chin, head thrown back.

You’ve picked up the pace, thumbing the tip of his dick with more pressure, precum dribbles into your fist. “Does this feel nice, Connie?”

“Real nice…your hand is so soft…”

You stroke him for another minute, exchanging more heated kisses. His hands travel to your chest, palming your breasts, and swirling his thumbs around your nipples.

You whimper, sensitive to the touch, inhaling Connie’s chuckle.

“Someone likes it when I do this, eh?” His thumbs move faster, orbiting your nipples. He pinches one, pleasure radiating to your center.

“Connie…”

He pulls away, taking your wrist to stop you. Most of the color in his eyes have been swallowed by his pupils. “I want to try something. Alright with you if we experiment?”

Your brows furrow. With the warm throb between your legs, however, you nod.

Connie’s smile brightens like a Christmas tree. With your wrist in his hand, he leads you to the bed.

You settle your knees onto the mattress, inwardly apologizing to Niccolo for what you and Connie are about to do.

Before he joins you on the bed, Connie’s eyes go blank. He spins around, crouching to fish through his discarded jeans. He pulls out a condom.

“Safety first. But if you want to raw-dog it…”

You smile, shaking your head. “Safety first.”

Connie’s quick with the condom, rolling it down his shaft and hopping on the bed, rolling back on his haunches. “Okay, this position I want to try out is a little unorthodox.”

You frown. “Go on…”

Connie falls back, catching himself on his elbows. He gestures you to come closer. “Now first, lay on top of me, on your back.”

Sliding over, your legs crawl atop his, your center dampening as you nudge his dick. Head nestled below his chin, you crane a look up. “Okay…”

“This is the unorthodox part.” Connie’s hands roam to your side, lifting you up. “I want you to hold yourself up on your arms with your back arched, kind of like you’re draping over me.”

You lift off his chest, but pause, trying to grasp what he wants you to do. Arched back? Draped? An image pops into your brain and you lift your body off Connie’s, arms rooting on either side of him. You bow your back in a backwards arch, head hanging.

“Like this?” You strain to say, arms trembling. He’s right this is an unorthodox position.

“Just like that. Now…I’m going to fuck into you this way. Okay?”

“Uh…okay.”

The bedsheets rustle beneath you, fingers tickling your sides, you almost fall.

“Whoa, I got you.” Connie’s hands stabilize you. “Alright. You look fucking great like this by the way.”

The drag of his dick along your pussy catches you off guard. You flinch a little, hips bucking up.

“Baby don’t run from it.” Connie’s whine softens with laughter. “It just needs a special kind of hug…” A nudge punctuates along your folds.

You smile up at the ceiling, steadying your legs to give Connie better access. “Right, sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Connie lines up again, hands grasping onto your ribcage. “It’ll feel good, scout’s honor!”

His dick rubs along your pussy, gathering the slick drooling down your thighs. He grunts beneath you, the tip of his dick twitches, and you know he can’t stave off for much longer. To be fair, neither can you, not in the position he has you in.

Connie manages to hold you up without so much strain, you’re unable to hold back your surprise. He wasn’t kidding when he said he had the strength of a bull.

“You’re really strong.”

You catch the hearty, earnest laugh behind you, shivering from the tip of his dick lining up with your entrance.

“Thanks! If you’re impressed with that, baby, you’ll love my stamina. You ready?”

Although your head hangs backwards, you manage a meager nod. “Uh huh.”

Connie lifts his hips up, pushing into your pussy in a slow, deep stroke.

It’s an odd feeling, like you’ve gotten impaled, but you like it… And because you can’t watch his dick go in, you focus on the sensation of being filled. He pulls out and repeats the action, a gradual build for you to acclimate to this position.

“What do you think of that, eh?”

Eyes trained on the ceiling, you wish you could get a better look at Connie’s face, laughing at the humor in his voice, his playful spunk turning you on more than you imagined it would.

“It’s a new angle for me, Connie,” you grunt when he thrusts deeper. “Time to show off that stamina.”

Hands dig into the arch of your back to keep you steady. “Say less, beautiful!”

He thrusts up, hips smacking against your ass.

You feel him deeper, fucking into you with stride, projecting a low moan to fall with your head thrown back. Blood rushes to your head, but you don’t notice the discomfort, pussy throbbing, fluttering around Connie’s dick.

“Shiiiiiiiit—you feel fucking—wonderful—” Connie grunts between each snap of his hips. “So warm—so tight—”

His hips clap against your ass, bouncing off the walls. You arch your back further, adjusting your position a bit to lower yourself to Connie’s cock without seating on him entirely.

“Ooooooh! Even better!” Connie rasps, picking up the pace.

His grip tightens at your sides with bruising pressure, but you don’t mind it, relishing in the way his cock drives deeper into you; the tip prodding the spongy spot inside.

You shut your eyes, only aware of the way Connie fucks into you over and over again, sparks of pleasure burning warmer with each thrust.

“Fuck…Connie…” Your moan is heavy with passion. Goosebumps prick your scorching skin as you feel your body foreshadowing your release.

“Ha—I’m loving this too, baby.”

Your thighs spread apart, wanting to pull him in more if it’s possible. Oh! From the way your pussy flutters around Connie’s dick, it’s very possible.

You wonder if you look as sexy as you feel. Hardened nipples facing the ceiling, back bowed in a deep arch, flexing the column of your throat, every gasp falling out like a waterfall. It’s amazing what shapes the body can take, enticing to know the various positions that offer pleasure.

Connie makes good on that stamina. The momentum builds and you want it to last for as long as possible, despite the dizziness in your head. For a while, you don’t notice anything except Connie fucking into you, the fullness of his length stretching you out. Every muscle in your body works to keep you steady, but you tend to skip arm day at the gym, therefore you’re not that strong. Your arms tremble. You claw at the sheets to help anchor you in place.

“Feeling sore?” Connie rasps.

“A little, my arms are getting tired.”

Connie offers you a solution. “It’s okay, let yourself fall to my chest—I’ll take care of the rest.” He continues to fuck you while you decide.

“Ah—are you—sure?” Words strain in your throat.

“Yeah, yeah,” he breathes. “Lay on my chest, I got you, it’ll feel just as good.”

You don’t hesitate, one wobbly arm after the other, your back lands on Connie’s chest, resting your head on his shoulder. Your muscles go lax in relief.

Connie kisses your sweaty temple, snaking his arms around you. He lines his dick against your folds again, pushing back inside in a deep thrust.

Connie gropes your breast, thumb swiping against the hardened nipple.

You inhale, chest ballooning.

The stimulation does not end there. Connie’s other hand finds your apex, the pads of his fingers rubbing your clit as he fucks into you.

“See, told you I’d take care of the rest,” Connie breathes into your hairline, voice ragged.

“Connie…don’t stop.” You wrap your hand around his, urging him to rub your clit faster.

He gets the hint, and your climax is close, so close, you grab onto Connie’s arm at your chest, driving your nails into his skin.

Laughter rumbles in Connie’s chest. “Someone’s almost there, huh? Fuck—me too.” His hips snap up, desperate.

“Connie—I’m gonna—” You throw your head back, cutting yourself short, pulsing and cumming on Connie’s cock.

“Shit, that was fucking hot.” Connie hugs you to his chest, fucking into you with more purpose. “I’m about to nut—your pussy feels so fucking good.”

His sloppy rhythm becomes pointed with quick, sharp bucks of his hips. You hear the deep moan pouring out of his mouth, he lifts your bodies off the mattress, wanting to reach the heavens as he orgasms.

The room falls quiet, save for the heavy breathing against your ear. Connie’s dick stutters inside of you and you both stay like that for a moment. Your back glued to his sticky chest, ass and pussy held in the air by Connie’s hips.

When his cock softens, he slips out, a pair of hips collapses onto poor Niccolò’s bed.

Connie blows out a sigh, warm breath fanning your hair. “Shit…oh shit…” He swallows, rubbing his hands along your arms lazily. “That was hella fun. What’d you think, beautiful? If you liked that, I have another position we can try out.”

You heave a tired laugh, but you’re not against the idea. Maybe another time.

☻ masterpost☻

taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7 @theragethatisdesire

#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #connie springer x reader #connie smut #connie springer smut #connie springer x you #dtf only series #mochi-writings

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c-h-e-r-r-i-e-s · 7 months

Text

Ghostface Choso

Edit: look at this beautiful piece of ghost face Choso. Please give the artist some love! https://aransmind.tumblr.com/

Yoooo I wrote this with the help of Deftones and a bit of experience

Ao3 link

I have serious brainrot about this man. He’s on my nails and I get to lick his face whenever I eat finger foods.

Part 2

NSFW under the cut! Lmk if you like it.

October always promises some great parties. And this year your friends swore to get you out and to at least one party in costume. It’s not that you weren’t into partying, it’s always the anxiety of dressing up that keeps you away from the Halloween parties.

Your phone dings interrupting your thoughts of worry on how to dress. It’s Shoko and the group chat going on about the party tomorrow. And of course they’ve already gotten you an accessory for the costume they want you in.

Utahime:

Just wear a white dress!

Shoko:

Yeah and make it hot

You roll your eyes at the text and look in your closet. There’s a light blue dress that’s nice and sparkly. Texting the group back: guys will light blue work? That’s all I have on short notice..

Utahime: perfect! I have your wings already 😇

Oh okay angel-devil most likely, you think to yourself. And pick out some white chunky platform sandals to go with it.

——————————

The next day rolls around and you slip in the outfit you’d picked out after sending a few pics for confirmation that the vibe was right. You finish your make up and throw your hair in a clip just as the car outside the window honks for you. Texting Utahime that you’ll be out in a sec, you grab your stuff and head out the door.

Walking up to the house party that looked like a club you could feel the music in the front yard. Giddy with excitement you follow your friends in. Apparently Shoko knew the house owners and got invited that way.

Making your way inside with the wings was a bit difficult. Luckily they were pretty small but with the amount of people there it was hard to move with the added accessory. Grabbing a hard lemonade before Shoko took them to the fridge you followed Utahime to the dance floor.

Placing your hands at her waist you move closer to dance and let loose. Dropping your shoulders and sipping on your drink before leaning your head back. Letting loose for a few songs before you notice there’s a hand sliding to your hip. Fuzzy brained from the heat and drink you let him dance behind you. His hands are warm and big. It’s turning you on just from the idea of the body that might match the hands resting on your dress. There is a barrier of your wings so you’re not too worried but you look back anyway. Ghost face is looking back at you. Leaning back you find his ear and ask “pull your mask up?” He shakes his head no. So you pull away teasing a little bit, mostly to see how much he wanted to be near you. A physical flirtation, a testing of waters.

His hands slide around your hips again so you turn fully to him. Pressing against his chest you reach up and prop his mask up on his head, revealing the most gorgeous man. Hark hair and dark eyes stare back at you. Gasping for a second before you regain your composure and throw a smirk on your face.

In his ear you ask “why didn’t you want the mask off? You’re really pretty”

Blushing, you watch him pull his mask on. “Dance with me?” He asks in your ear, the sound muffled by the mask. You smile and put your hands around his neck getting into the beat of the song. Your heart going a bit crazy knowing how attractive this guy is. Your fuzzy brain can’t help but take over your thoughts. Getting a little nasty in your head you shake it off.

A cool piece of glass breaks your mental spiral as it touches the hot skin of your back. Shoko hands you another bottle of hard lemonade and gets close to your ear. “Do you need saving?” She prods..

Shaking your head no you lean to her saying “no he’s hot and sweet so far”

Removing his mask fully he pulls Shoko over to him and hugs her.

“Oh shit Choso!” She bounces into his hug and returns to your side. “Okay he’s approved” she smirks after speaking lowly in your ear and smacks your ass lightly. Then his hand is back on your waist and mask is hanging loosely around his neck by the elastic. Two small buns of hair sit atop his head and bangs whisp over his forehead. Damn he’s pretty. And your fingers feel the muscles sliding under the fabric of his costume.

Leaning in you tell him your name and boldly kiss his cheek. It’s been forever since you were messy with a one night stand. Maybe this guy could be fun and Shoko seems to like him. Green flags so far make you press your body a bit closer to him.

“I’m Choso by the way” he says in a deep voice, hot breath fanning over your neck. “Want to go somewhere quieter?” You suggest leaning back to see his eyes. He nods and laces your fingers in his pulling you to the kitchen away from the music.

He grabs a beer from the fridge and asks “Do you want one?” You nod after looking at your empty bottle. He twists the cap off of both and leads you out to the back porch where tons more people are mingling around. His hand never leaves your hip as he guides you to a more open space.

“Hey” you say, meeting his gaze. He’s playing with one of the strings hanging from the side of your dress. “Hey” he replies and chuckles looking towards his feet.

“So how do you know Shoko?” You pry.

“Friend of a friend basically. What about you?”

“Friend from college” you start explaining “we’ve just stayed friends the last few years”

“Oh that’s cool. Do you know Gojo and Geto?” You shake your head no.

“Oh that’s whose house this is. I’m surprised Shoko never introduced you. They’re cool.”

“Oh I’ll ask her about it after this trust me” the end of your sentence fizzles into a giggle.

“Sooo what do you do for work?” He looks to you expectantly.

“I work a desk job for a manufacturing company. It’s super boring but like ultra stable. Plus my boss is really nice. What about you?”

“I own a gym actually” you bite back a smile at the realization.. that’s why he’s so built.

“Oh cool. You must stay active then” He nods in confirmation.

“But it is a lot of paperwork too. Can’t have you thinking I’m just a dumb jock”

“Dumb jocks don’t wear buns and dresses” you tease pulling at his costume.

“Oh this old thing?” He plays along and rests his elbow on the patio railing, leaning so he’s shorter than you now.

“So other than working out do you have any hobbies?” You ask Getting a little more comfy and leaning your butt against the railing.

“I game and have cats. Do cats count as an activity?” He looks for an answer.

“I’d say yes. I’m a cat person too.”

“And what about your hobbies outside your desk job?”

“Oh I paint and generally go where my mindless scrolling takes me. Gaming, reading, puzzles.. just whatever keeps me busy.” You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself.

“That’s fun! What kind of games?”

“I logged an embarrassing amount of hours in animal crossing a few years ago”

“Okay what do you consider embarrassing?” His brow raises skeptical of your answer.

“900 hours in less than a year…” you cover your face for a moment blushing.

“Holy shit” he laughs. “Yeah that’s insane. I bet your island was cool!”

“It was!”

The conversation lulls while you both sip your drink.

Standing to his full height Choso grabs your waist “do you want to go somewhere more private?”

“This isn’t?” You challenge.

“It is but I think everyone would appreciate us getting a room for things I want to do to you.”

Your stomach flips.

“Oh? And what would that be?” Your cheeks heat and heart flutters. You’ve been starved for this for months. He leans in closer, the heat of his palm seeping into your side. “I wanna see what you look like with my head between your legs”

“That can be arranged” you know the blush has creeped down to your chest. You pull him closer fisting the fabric of his costume. His hand glides to the back of your neck and he softly kisses your cheek. “So? Somewhere more private?” He repeats.

“What afraid of a little spectacle?” You lean in, nose brushing over his cheek and hot breaths mingling before either of you commit to this fully. He caves first placing a slow, closed mouth kiss to your lips. Slowly he slots your bottom lip between his and playfully bites at it before the kiss melts into an open mouth clash of tongues. The cool October air sending goosebumps over your skin and the warmth of Choso’s breath mixing with yours as you both pant and grab at each other. Turning into something else, so familiar but still new. His baby hairs falling at the back of his neck tickle your hand and you giggle into the kiss.

“Okay maybe getting a room isn’t a bad idea”

“We could go back to my place if you want” he curls the strings from your dress around his finger. “Is it close by?”

He peppers kisses on your neck and whispers that it is.

————————

Entering his apartment you take in the industrial type loft. It’s nothing fancy but it seems to fit him. A vintage red rug on the hardwood floors and dark walls paired with a shitty old velvet couch. You watch as a cat darts around to the corner and disappears into another room.

“Make yourself at home” his deep voice comes from behind you. “Thanks. These wings are cutting into me so bad” you discard the wings on the couch and Choso pulls the costume up over his head.

Oh fuck he’s hot. Your mouth waters at the lack of a shirt under his costume. Both of you barefoot on the plush rug, you close the distance between your bodies. His hands trace your hips and he presses his thumbs into the plush of your belly. Initiating a kiss that turns messy fast, tracing your tongue on his lower lip you feel his heart beat pick up. Sighing into each others mouths and melting into the new touches.

“You’re so sexy” he says pressing his forehead to yours. “Gonna let me do whatever I want?”

“Only if you promise to get me off”

“Oh multiple times” he pushes some stray bangs behind your ear.

“Big talk there mask man”

“It’s not just talk. Promise” he slips a finger to the edge of your panties. Teasingly pulling the fabric away from your skin. Gasping as the intimate contact you grab his biceps.

“Sensitive?” You just nod in response and hide your face in the crook of his neck. His hands find their home at your waist again. Choso slides a finger over your dress straps and pulls one off your shoulder. You start placing sweet small kisses to his neck. He returns the favor and places a few wet kisses to your chest. The teasing turns into a full make out session. He pulls you onto the couch and in his lap. Sliding the hem of your dress up so you comfortably straddle him. Worshiping every inch of exposed thigh.

“Do you do this often?” He questions.

“Not recently no” hesitating for a moment “I’m clean if that’s what your worried about”

Chuckling between kisses to your chest “No but it’s nice to know. I was just wondering if you’re slutty.. in the good way”

Laughing at the correction “I can be if you’re into it”

Dragging his teeth against your skin “I’m into it then”

“Noted” you lean into a kiss and press your self fully against him. You can feel the bulge in his pants already.

“Fuck” you pull away breathless from sucking down each others air. His hands guide your hips creating friction for the both of you. Kissing him again you fight over who gets to bite the others lip. He pulls yours in his mouth and sucks on it.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, finger tips gliding along the bare skin of his back. “Will you wear the mask while we fuck?”

Shock settles on his face then a grin. “Yes ma’am”

Teasingly, you drag your hips on him. Your folds spilling out of your thong from how hard you’re grinding on him. Cupping your ass, Choso stands up with you in his arms as he carries you to his bedroom. Tossing you on the bed before he hovers over you placing kisses to your chest and biting the flesh of your breast. Licking at every spot he bites leaving a small trail across your cleavage. He kisses you with an open mouthed kiss, tangling your tongues together while he pulls your dress up and over your head.

His lips immediately attach to your exposed nipple while he plays with the other. Sending shivers over your body and heat between your legs. He pulls the mask off his neck and throws it on the bed “for later” he says.

“First I gotta make good on a promise” lowering to his knees and placing soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. Sliding off your underwear leaving you fully exposed under him. Tension fills the room as he leans in closer to your clit, slowly dragging his tongue over the soft bud. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. His tongue slowly drags over your slit sucking up the wetness already leaking from you. Then he proceeds to suck and lick your pussy with no regard for how wet his face and your thighs are. Pressing into you hard and flattening his tongue for more friction. Using your thighs and ass to lift you up off the bed so he has better access. Continuing his ministrations pulling out every ounce of pleasure he can. Soft moans slip from both of you. Lewd sounds come from between your legs and you cover your face in embarrassment. Someone you just met making you feel SO good. The thought sends shivers through your body. You grab each of his buns in one hand and rut yourself against his face. Panting at the exertion, filthy things leave your lips.

“God Choso yes”

He slides a finger inside you but never lets his lips leave your clit. Even as you reach overstimulation and try to pull away he pulls you closer with one hand. Riding out your high on his finger.

“Good girl” he praises as his shorts hit the floor. Joining you on the bed he kisses you and pulls you closer. You drape a leg lazily over his waist and realize he’s fully naked. And erect. Holy shit. Hes so pretty.. even his dick is pretty. Toying with it, your thumb circles around the tip as you greedily slide it through your folds.

“I’m on the pill .. so we can do whatever you want”

He covers his face with a large palm. “Fuck me” giggling softly you reply “gladly”

He goes to grab the mask off the bed but you stop him. “I wanna see your face for a bit. Please” He smirks and nods, placing the mask close by. Sitting up on his knees, he glides his dick on your cunt and teases your slit and folds. Heat pooling in your abdomen. He pushes his tip in and spits on where you’re connected. Throwing his head back he hooks your legs over his thighs, pushing fully inside of you. A few thrusts and he’s sweating. Looking like a man starved for pussy.

He grabs the mask and pulls it over his face while your eyes are screwed shut. Fucking into you harder now and lifting you off the bed. His nails dig into your hips and you gasp but definitely get wetter at the sight of the mask. You grasp his sides, holding on as he roughly pushes into you over and over. He flips you over and fully pushes inside you slowly before grasping all your hair in one hand. Forcing you to look over your shoulder at the body of a god screwing you. A hand slides up your back and causes heat to pool in your belly at the tenderness.

Panting, your hands fist the sheets for purchase. He catches on that you want more and he pulls all the way out before slamming back in. Throwing his head back in pleasure as his cock drags against your walls, pulling out again. Taking off the mask you see sweat beading on his face.

“God damn you feel so good” wimpers leave your lips as he’s pushing and pulling your body as he wants.

Flipping you over again he spits where you’re connected. Playing with your clit while dragging his dick in and out of you until you’re cumming on him. He leans over and cups your shoulders while panting into your ear. Orgasms washing over both of you. He holds you as you both come down. Breathing heavily while your eyes glaze over, you body humming with contentment.

Playing with his hair you whisper into his ear “that was incredible”

“Yeah? if you stay the night I’ll do it again”

Smiling you kiss his cheek and agree.

Part 2

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #choso kamo #jjk smut #choso x reader #choso x female reader #kinktober #help i love him

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