Tumgik
#couldn't stop thinking about the replies too
delulujuls · 1 day
Text
young, dumb & bwoke | ln4
Tumblr media
hi! as u can see i couldn't stop myself from writing about last saturday events in amsterdam with mr norris as main star (he was more popular than the king himself lmao). lando is literally what i always bring to the function and yup, enjoy him being the chaotic drunk bestie while max and y/n are his literal party parents. its nothing crazy and without plot basically, i just added sum to this years' koningsdag so yeah, enjoy!
summary: there is nothing that lando loves more than a good party and his beloved dutch friends so imagine him with drink in his cup surrounded by whole orange nation. it could be nuts and it was
warnings: TONS of alcohol, lando being drunk (and hurted), mentions of blood, basically sum chaos
pairing: fem!dutch!bff!reader x lando norris (ft. max verstappen)
Tumblr media
Lando couldn't wait for the plane he was on to break through the heavy cloud cover and land in Amsterdam.
China and Miami, which were the next rounds on the calendar, were separated by two weeks that were nothing else, in Lando's case, than a time of stagnation. Add to this the fact that Lando had bad memories of his performance in China and, what's worse, the sprint he failed so badly and which constantly played in his head like a jammed record, one could go crazy. That's why the Brit was extremely happy when he received an invitation to spend the weekend in the capital of the Netherlands. He was invited to Amsterdam to celebrate King Willem's birthday by none other than his favorite flying Dutch.
The friendship of Y/N, Max and Lando began in 2019, practically from the very moment he entered Formula 1. The kid, who was barely 20 years old but looked like 12, immediately won over the Dutch couple with his smile and sense of humor, who, due to their sometimes severe temperament, could not boast of having many friends in the paddock. Even though the three friends were only two years apart, Max and Y/N naturally became Lando's racing parents, with whom the Brit spent practically every moment, from time in the paddock, through celebrating on the podium, to time away from competitions. So it was no surprise when they invited him to spend the weekend together, to which he, of course, eagerly agreed.
When the plane landed, Lando pulled the hood of his orange sweatshirt over his head and slung his backpack over his shoulder, in which he packed everything he might need for the coming days. As you could guess, there wasn't much of it, he actually had everything he needed on him and the most important part was an oversized orange sweatshirt. Waiting for him at the airport was Y/N, who couldn't wait to see him. She didn't have to wait too long, because a moment later he walked out in front of the terminal. Y/N smiled as she saw her friend walking towards her and she hugged him tightly.
"You knew I was coming, you could have asked the king for better weather," Lando joked, trying to sound serious, which only made the girl giggle.
"If you think that the weather will have any influence on what will happen in the evening, then unfortunately I will have to disappoint you," she replied, getting into the car. "It's already starting to get crowded in downtown, and it's not even noon."
Lando threw his backpack into the backseat and got into the passenger side. He smiled like a child, looking forward to how the weekend would unfold. It looked like he would spend a nice few days, able to finally de-stress and relax, and in the company of friends. But speaking of friends, one of them was missing.
"And where's Max?" he asked as they left the airport and were on their way to the girl's apartment. "I thought he had been waiting for me with the welcome committee since yesterday."
"He's already in town, I dropped him off while I was on my way to pick you up."
"He's fast," Lando laughed and shook his head, "I hope he's still on his feet when we get to him."
At that moment, Lando didn't think about the fact that no one else but himself would be able to stay on his feet. When the Brit set off for Amsterdam, he obviously expected to spend two days drunk, with legs sore from dancing and a sore throat from singing, but he forgot that he has absolutely no immunity to alcohol.
When the three friends were finally together, alcohol quickly appeared in their hands. Y/N and Max started with beer, but Lando had no intention of wasting his time drinking something that would only cause pressure on his bladder. As soon as he boarded one of the barges floating on the Herenbracht Canal, he drank several shots at once. Y/N and Max just exchanged glances as he drank the drink standing on Garrix's console in one gulp, who didn't care one bit about it, being already in a good mood himself.
"I'm a little worried about how this might end," Max said in her ear as she took a sip of her cider, watching Lando jump happily.
"Even if he's drunk, so what," she replied, handing him her bottle and taking away the body paints in circulation, "He didn't come here to be bored."
Max was about to say something, but she pushed his hand slightly, bringing the bottle he was holding to his lips. Max shook his head and took a few sips from it, while the girl started painting flags on his cheeks. When she finished, she waved them up, attracting Lando's attention, who understood what she meant and nodded eagerly. The girl squeezed through the console and stood next to him, leaning him against the barge rails, because Lando had trouble not bobbing to the music for a moment.
The smile that never left his face wrinkled his cheeks, on which she tried to paint Dutch flags. When she finished and turned to pass the paints, Lando took off her sunglasses and put them on himself.
"Have a drink with me!" Lando shouted, holding out his empty cup to her, and she raised her cider bottle in response. He rolled his eyes in dissatisfaction when suddenly a bottle of vodka appeared in the crowd and someone handed it straight to his hands. Without much thought, Lando unscrewed the cap and took a few sips as if the contents were water, which of course met with the crowd's approval.
Y/N took the bottle from his hands, fearing not the amount Lando drank, but the relatively short time it took him to do so. However, not wanting to seem boring, she tilted the bottle herself, letting the liquid burn her throat. Delighted, Lando clapped his hands and hugged his friend, causing some of the alcohol to flow down her chin. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist as well, and raised her hand in a toast, which was joined by everyone who had something to drink.
Max also raised his beer bottle a bit. However, somewhere in the background of his mind there was an image of Lando and what he would look like in the near future. However, the Brit himself did not care at all about this. As long as he was in the company of his friends, his plastic cup was full and he could jump to the music and sing along, he was happy. Even the fact that his face was in the wrong place at the wrong time, when someone, completely by accident, punched him in the face, didn't disturb it.
Y/N, who also decided to pick up the pace after drinking her cider, immediately sobered up when she saw blood on her friend's face. She quickly pressed a tissue to his nose, but he tried to assure her that he was fine. His brain didn't encode the impact or the pain, didn't acknowledge that he was bleeding, even when he ran his tongue over his lips and tasted blood on them. People in the crowd started calling out to each other to see if anyone had a first aid kit. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bandage appeared, and just as Y/N, being drunk, thought it would be a great idea to wrap Lando's face in a bandage, Max started asking people if they somehow had band aids. He couldn't let that dumbass parade around like that for the rest of the evening.
“I've sobered up a bit, I can keep drinking,” he said as Y/N finished clumsily bandaging his face, “I probably look worse that i did when i crashed in Vegas.”
Her friend tried to be serious, but it was impossible to stay serious around Lando. "You have to be careful, Lan," she said, trying to retain some sanity and touching his cheek, looking into his eyes, "I hope it's not broken."
"Bwoken," he repeated in silly voice, giggling "Oh no, it couldn't be bwoken"
"Honestly, i also hope it is not," Max interjected when he managed to rejoin his friends after some time, "Getting to the hospital now would be a near miracle."
"Hey, I'm fine," he said as Max waved the Band-Aids in his face and began to remove the clumsy bandage into which their friend had probably poured her whole heart and a few drinks that she drank earlier.
"I'm glad you don't feel anything, but that doesn't change the fact that I won't look at it," he replied, lifting his chin and examining his nose from every angle. Luckily this one seemed fine.
Once Max had placed two tiny patches on him, Y/N handed him his mug with a fresh drink again. "Brave patient," she smiled at him.
"In a state like this, I'd be surprised if he felt something," Max admitted, taking a bottle of vodka standing nearby. He decided that since Lando had had an accident, nothing worse awaited them and he could allow himself to loosen a bit more. He took a few sips and handed the bottle to the younger one, who smiled, tightening his hand around it. He looked at his friends standing in front of him, slightly drunk but still fully focused on him. He knew he was important to them and that he is not alone in all this madness.
"I love you guys," he said, with a bottle in his hand, pushing himself off the railing and hugging them, "You are the best in the world, simply the best."
The rest of the day and later in the evening took place in a great atmosphere and the party lasted until 3. in the morning. For the rest of Amsterdam it probably lasted longer, but for Lando it began to end after two o'clock, when he was barely able to stand. Partly from being drunk, partly from being tired. He didn't stand still during a single song, so the next day, apart from his face, his legs will certainly be visible. Taking a break for something warm to eat, Max, Y/N, and Lando sat down at one of the wooden tables. While waiting for their orders, Lando rested his head on Y/N's shoulder and closed his eyes. It was obvious that he just needed something to lean on to fall asleep.
"I think it's time for us to go," the girl announced, directing her words to Max. "The baby is only fit for bed now."
"He's been in great shape for a long time anyway, judging by how much he was on his feet today," Max concluded, glancing first at him and then at the girl, "But you're holding up pretty well, aren't you?"
"Yes, I do," she nodded and hugged Lando, who began to slide off her shoulder, "But I'm also getting sleepy."
"Me too," Max rubbed his face with his hands, "At least we can be sure that no one will wake us up first thing in the morning to explore the city."
He said, glancing at Lando, who was dozing with his mouth open on his friend's shoulder. After eating casseroles and fries, which were for Lando and which he was unable to eat, the three of them went to the girl's apartment. Of course, only she and Max were walking on their own, Lando was between them, leaning on their arms. He was muttering something incomprehensible under his breath, so it was obvious that he was alive and everything was fine, besides the fact that he was completely drunk.
When they arrived at the address and crossed the threshold of the apartment, they immediately went to put him in the bedroom, not wasting time in unfolding the couch for him. Max was in the process of stripping him of his shoes, pants, bloody sweatshirt, and all the necklaces and ribbons he had collected the previous day, while Y/N placed a large bottle of water, painkillers, and a bucket by his bed, as if the contents of his stomach had suddenly decided that they wants to get outside. However, there was no indication that Lando was going to have a restless night, because he started snoring softly as soon as his cheek touched the pillow. Max covered him with the blanket and took a few steps away from the bed, standing next to his friend who was looking at the sleeping boy.
"Can you hear that?" Max whispered, glancing at her, and she frowned questioningly, "It's silence, listen to it, because when he gets up, the only thing you can hear will be his lamentations about how hungover he is."
The girl snorted quietly and shook her head, taking Lando's clothes to the laundry.
"The most important thing is that he had a good time. And a little hangover never killed nobody."
The next day, however, did not bring anything unexpected. When Lando woke up, the first thing that hit him was a terrible headache that got worse when he sat down and tried to get out of bed. When he stood in the doorway of the bedroom, Y/N and Max's eyes immediately went towards him and Lando could swear that they looked like they spent the entire last evening on the couch.
"Hi honey, did you sleep well?" Max asked playfully, in the perfect mood for jokes since he himself was fine after last night.
Lando just blinked several times and wanted to wipe his face with his hands and collect some words to answer, but when he touched his cut nose, he cursed loudly.
"What the fuck?"
"A souvenir from yesterday," the girl answered him, getting up from the couch and taking out a frozen package from the fridge, which she handed to him, "I recommend a shower and I'll make you some coffee."
He closed his eyes and put the package to his nose, sighing and grabbing the bathroom door handle. Before he disappeared, Max just shouted after him.
"And don't puke in the shower!"
445 notes · View notes
lucienarcheron · 2 days
Text
That Single Thread of Gold [ Elucien ]
Prompt: Inspired by @eospaint lovely elucien piece here. I went a little nuts in the tags of it but then couldn't contain it and had to write this little fic! I love writing elucien being caught up in their awkward feelings stage. I hope you enjoy! | AO3
Tumblr media
He told himself it was for the best if he didn't see her this time. It was almost always awkward. Tense. Lucien could do without the stress of their uncomfortable interactions this visit; he was here to see Feyre, after all. He had given Feyre enough notice that she would inform Elain and there would be no need for them to cross paths. They had no need to see each other, especially when she had clearly never expressed the desire to see him anyway. 
So Lucien sat and waited in Feyre’s living room, let in by one of the twins. He sat and waited and tried not to let the crumpled pieces of his stupid heart hope. Tried not to set himself up for disappointment. His fingers drummed on his knees as he glanced towards the half open door, waiting for his friend to arrive. 
Instead, her scent flooded his senses. 
And then she appeared in the doorway. 
Lucien didn’t know what to do with himself as she blinked at him in surprise, almost as shocked as he was that she was standing there. 
Elain hadn’t even meant to stumble into the room. She knew he was coming today – Feyre had given her the heads up but – but something about her had been different today. Today felt different and she wasn’t sure why. Normally, Elain had no desire to meet him and allow herself to feel all the things she did whenever he was close. Normally, she was very good at being a coward and avoiding him. 
But today…that tug of the bond had pulled her into the room before she could stop it or realize what was happening.
She stood by the door and blinked, then blinked again. Elain hadn’t even realized he was already here.
Lucien stood immediately and as anticipated, the expected awkwardness unfurled between them, quickly followed by that strained tension.
Touch. Taste. Claim.
Lucien fisted his hands by his side and instead bowed graciously, murmuring, “My lady.” 
He said nothing more as his mate watched him, a muscle flexing in his jaw at her gaze, because here she was staring at him like she had no idea what to do with him and Lucien felt heat rise in his body. He swallowed, then cleared his throat and casually said, “I’m here to see Feyre. It seems she’s running a little late.”
“Oh.” is all Elain could think to reply and a flicker of emotion passed his expression quicker than she could read it. She licked her lips, her hands fisting in the folds of her dress and Elain couldn’t help but catalog every inch of him; she normally didn’t allow herself to look at him for too long and Elain wasn’t sure what it was this time around compelling her to take him in.��
Was it because it had been a while since she’d seen him? Was it the lack of sleep? Was it the thread of gold that chafed at her whenever he was in the general vicinity? He always seemed to handle himself so well around her despite what Elain had heard about the mating bond doing to males; he always handled himself so well.
She wished he’d yell at her, if only once. So she had a reason to actually avoid him. So she had a reason to resist him, to be justified in cowering. 
But no. He was always so polite.
Realizing a few moments had passed and she hadn’t said anything, Elain cleared her throat and said, “I’m not sure when Feyre will be back.”
Lucien tried not to fidget beneath her gaze despite the urge to shift on his feet. She’d never looked at him so directly before. It was unnerving him but Lucien didn’t let himself hope. He squashed down any possible emotions he could feel and instead nodded. “I understand. I’ll take my leave then.” he said and gave her a thin smile. “She knows where to find me.” 
He didn’t allow himself another word and instead, took a step aiming to leave but – but then Elain took a step towards him and he froze. 
All her senses went on high alert as Elain realized that she too had paused in that half step. A half step she had taken towards him before – long ago. Her eyes widened slightly and she watched as Lucien’s brows furrowed, his body strained as her pulse quickened beneath her skin, her heart pounding.
Lucien tilted his head, straightening, her reaction confusing him. “Is there something else I can help you with?” he asked tightly. 
And it was Elain’s turn to swallow because she didn’t know. Was there something else he could help her with? She hadn’t been alone with him in – in a long while. She had made sure of it.
She went out of her way not to actively think about him, not to have him in her mind so he wouldn’t follow her in her dreams the way he did anyway on so many nights. But now he was here standing in front of her and she wasn't sure what to do with him.
Her pulse was fluttering and Elain wanted to be angry with him even though none of this was really his fault. She wanted to be mean to him even though he didn’t deserve it. She just wanted someone who sees how wretched she feels about it all. She wanted someone to see behind her stupid fake smiles and her distance from him. She wanted someone to understand why.
And the longer she stood staring at him, the more Lucien seemed to read her mind. That single thread of gold between them…he seemed to understand the whirlwind of feelings she was battling and his expression softened for a moment. Like he really did see.
Elain almost hated that even more but she wasn’t even sure why and the thought threatened to release tears she had no business showing in front of him. Her bottom lip trembled for a breath before she straightened and shook her head.
Lucien stood still for a moment then forced himself to take a step then another until he stood in front of her and slowly, held out his hand. Then waited.
Because he could feel her. He could hear her heart and Lucien couldn’t stop himself from trying to bring her comfort in some way. The instincts beneath his skin wouldn't let him walk away when he knew his mate was on the verge of tears, even when Lucien had no idea if he was the reason for them.
This fae life – this mating bond had been thrust on her and the way she had been pretending to adjust since then was one of the main reasons he never pushed. He felt her confusion, her inner turmoil. He knew what it was like to swallow it all and play pretend. The least he could do was allow himself to be the guiding light through the dark for her. Even if he wasn’t sure she’d want that from him. Lucien couldn’t help but offer. 
Elain glanced down at his hand and she felt her throat tighten. They didn’t touch. They rarely even stood so close. Did she want to touch him? She didn’t know what his skin felt like but in her dreams – in her sleep she wondered – she felt like she knew – 
Before she could let herself doubt any further and even as the battle of emotions threatened to swallow her whole, Elain couldn’t help but slowly, carefully slide her hand in his. 
And it felt – it felt –
Elain felt herself take a breath. She waited for the discomfort. For the prickling anxiety that usually haunted her. For the wretchedness to snap at her heels.  
But his hand was softer than she imagined. Strong, calloused – a warrior’s hand but – it didn’t feel bad at all. It felt…better than expected. It was gentle. Warm.
She glanced at him then away, suddenly embarrassed and truly not sure what to do with herself. He was so patient and it only made her feel so much worse about herself. She owed him nothing and he owed her nothing and yet…
Lucien only held out his other hand and Elain met his gaze as he gave her a small knowing smile.
Elain’s throat bobbed and even as she slid her other hand into his, she whispered, “Why?”
The simple question seemed to make Lucien’s shoulders sag because even to Elain, her one question asked about a hundred more. Why was he still here? Why did he still try with her? Why did she hesitate to even speak with him? Why did she hide? 
Why? Why? Why?
“Because you looked like you needed some comfort.” he said quietly and shrugged. “And I know what it’s like to need a steady hand.” 
And it was like he’d snatched the breath from her throat. 
Had her sisters been right about what a mating bond could do for those blessed with one? About what her mate could do for her? Was it indeed a blessing then? Had she really only been hurting herself with her distance? She had only slid her hand in his, touching him so very lightly and yet…with this simple touch, Elain had found herself willing to stand in this room with him a little longer.
“A steady hand?” she repeated softly and the brush of his thumb against the back of her hand seemed involuntary.
“A steady hand and a good friend make all the difference.” he said and hoped his yearning wasn’t too obvious as she met his gaze again. 
“A good friend?” she repeated once more and the corner of his mouth lifted, the movement highlighting his scar as he nodded.
“Indeed.”
A friend. 
The thought seemed to hit Elain so suddenly and the sheer longing of it almost overwhelmed her. 
A friend. 
She needed one more than she could put into words and Elain could only stare at her mate. The rapid beating of her heart seemed so loud in the silence between them but for once, it was a comfortable silence. 
Comfortable enough that Elain found herself asking so very quietly as roses bloomed on her cheeks, “Do you happen to know any good friends available?”
His lips twitched and Lucien was sure the rapid beating of his own heart now matched hers as he answered in that same quiet tone, “I daresay, I have the perfect person in mind.” 
113 notes · View notes
polly-pocket13 · 1 day
Text
Give me a chance to show you how beautiful you are
bakugou katsuki x fem!chubby!reader 
tw: weight, self-doubt, self-hate, eating disorder, cursing, acne, bad english and bad grammar
a/n: just a friendly reminder that you are enough and beautiful just the way you are.
You are standing in front of your mirror and looking at yourself. 
You sighed. 
Your skin is getting worse again.
You gained weight.
Your tights are too thick.
Your belly is too chubby.
Your arms to giggly.
Slowly, your eyes started to tear up.
Why couldn't you be like the other pretty girls?
Those girls with the flat stomachs and clear skin. 
Those girls with beautiful tights and slim arms. 
Those girls who always look and act like a real lady.
Those girls who always seem perfect.
The next day, you started eating less and exercising more.
You began to isolate yourself from others and feel more and more ashamed about yourself.
Like right now, you were in your room again and stood before your mirror and looked at your imperfect body.
“Y/N? Is everything okay?” you suddenly heard Bakugous voice behind you.
You didn't even notice that he knocked or entered your room.
“Bakugou, what are you doing here? Of course, everything is alright.” you told him and forced yourself to smile.
“Y/N, stop fucking lying to me. I can see that something is wrong, and I can see how, you force yourself to smile. I have known you long enough, to recognize a real smile.” he grumbled.
“I don't know what you mean.” you said to him.
“Don't play dumb, Y/N. Please tell me what is wrong.” he spoke to you.
“I am fine.” you lied again. 
You weren't fine at all. 
“Fine? You look to me like the absolute opposite of fine.” he said to you angrily.
You were overwhelmed with emotions.
You slowly started to speak, “Can't you see? I am the problem. How I look. How I act. Everything about me is just imperfect.”
You started to cry again.
“Who the hell told you such a bullshit. Tell me so I can break his nose.” he told you aggressive.
You replied quietly, “Kacchan, just forget it.”
“You don't want me to know? Well, then I will find out myself. It can't be that fucking hard to find an asshole without eyes.” he slightly shouted and wanted to leave your room.
“It was me, okay! I tell my self everyday I am not enough! So if you want to break someone's nose, feel free to break mine.” you said to him. 
He immediately turned himself to you. A second later, you could feel his arms wrapped around you.
Now, you started to cry even more.
He pulled you closer to him.
He whispered in your ear, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my life.” 
“You only say it because we are friends and I am crying. You don't mean it.” you mumbled.
“Tsk, stupid gorgeous Woman. Why don't you believe me? I would not fall in love with you if you were not the most perfect human being in the world,”
he started tell you.
“I wished you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you would see that you are perfect from the bottom to the top. 
You would see how your eyes sparkle, when you talk about something you love. How you smile makes everyone else smile too.  How you just make everyone else to a better person, especially me. You would see how all stare at you if you dress up in your pretty dresses.  Damn it, Y/N yo drive me crazy every day. Your curves, your beautiful thighs, your soft belly. Just fucking everything.” he ends his “speech”.
You were shocked. You just stared at him for a moment.
“You like me? Like, really like me.” you asked him. 
“Typical Y/N. I told you lots of other important things and you just remembered one. Yes, I like you. Like, really like you.” he answered you. 
“I think I like you too, but I can't see myself through your eyes. I am just imperfect for me.” you told him.
“Give me a chance to show you how beautiful you are. Okay?” he asked you. 
“Okay.” you answered. 
Since that day, he has been proving to you every day how beautiful you are to him. 
And you slowly start to believe him and love yourself as you should because you are truly beautiful just the way you are. 
71 notes · View notes
ludicdoll · 2 days
Note
hello! been obsessed with your work! (I think I already read all archie madekwe x reader fics from you tbh). Been sobbing over Lizzy McAlpine's song Vortex. And I couldn't stop imagining Farleigh x reader who is in an on and off again relationship. Reader tries to stop herself from going back every time he's at her doorstep begging. But always fails. And it's just sad. LMAO
𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑
farleigh start ☆
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader
contents: angst, mentions of sex, slut calling, farleigh being a little bitch, reader is also an american, smoking, suggestive at the end but no smut, kinda toxic
synopsis: although your relationship with farleigh is complicated, you can’t help but run back to him every time he needs you.
a/n: this is so late im sorry i’ve been so busy and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while😭
Tumblr media
there’s something so alluring about farleigh that makes you chase him constantly—even if he pays no attention to you. you long for his approval, his touch, and in his absence you realize you can’t seem to function correctly without him. your relationship with farleigh is complex, to say the least, and everybody around you knows this. whenever you would tell felix that you and farleigh had split up again, he always replied with “give it a week.” and somehow, he’s always right. but, this one was different. you split up with farleigh a few weeks ago and he hasn’t even tried to make an attempt to contact you. he knew you’d come back around sooner or later, but you were persistent on keeping your ground.
your breakup with farleigh was because he had called you a slut, just straight up—which was quite ironic because he was the known campus whore. usually you would ignore his silly and childish name calling, but you hated him calling you a slut, it was too degrading for you. you remember the way farleigh blew up in your face when you told him the two of you were over, it was a priceless expression. now, you’re currently standing outside of the saltburn estate, leaning up against one of the large extravagant stone pillars. felix was hosting a party tonight, a big one at that. the colorful flashing lights can be seen outside, a neon cast over the large grassy field.
you decide to step out for a smoke and some fresh air after you locked eyes with farleigh as he was dancing with a girl, her hips grinding against his. that image alone made you shiver in disgust. although you had broken up with him, you missed him bad. you tried to deny it, but if you had to be honest with yourself—you didn’t know who you were without farleigh. if only he would give you a genuine apology, everything would be fine but his pride stopped him from doing so.
you turn your head when you hear the grand doors behind you creaking open. you watch as felix stumbles out, his dark brown hair disheveled from the party. you’re surprised to see him since he had vanished halfway through the party with some random girl you presume. felix turns, a surprised expression on his face. you look over at him, smiling weakly as you raise your cigarette to your lips.
he stands by the door for a minute, stretching his neck before walking over to you. “what are you doing out here?” he asks. felix scans your appearance, eyes widening when he spots a bottle of vodka in your hands, the same bottle that mysteriously disappeared a few hours ago. you shrug slightly, tired and feeling nauseous from the amount of drinks you’ve had tonight. “you missing the states?” felix nudges at your arm playfully. you stare ahead, shaking your head. “i just needed to clear my mind,” you mutter as you lift the bottle to your mouth, taking a long gulp. felix notices that you’re out of it, and he looks concerned. “you haven’t been yourself.” he starts, “ever since farleigh—” you raise your hand out, your palm facing him. “don’t. mention. him.” you groan, rubbing your temples to soothe your migraine.
“he misses you,” felix smiles widely. you stare at the red cups littered on the paved ground, slowly zoning out. “we’re not talking.” you reply, he sighs in return. “well, he wouldn’t stop talking about you in professor anderson’s class.” you turn to look at him, raising a suspicious brow. you think he’s joking at first, but his face is completely straight.
“really? i didn’t know the two of you even attended classes.” you joke in an attempt to move the topic elsewhere. “oh, ha ha.” felix replies sarcastically. there’s so many things racing through your mind, but at the same time—your thoughts are empty. you think that the alcohol from tonight has made you more sensitive. “i don’t like it when you guys fight.” felix mutters as he slowly takes your bottle away from your grip. “you should stop drinking too,” he waves the half empty bottle in front of your face.
“it’s not a fight, felix. it’s a breakup.” felix scoffs, shaking his head with a laugh. you turn to look at him, a scowl on your face. “oh, so you think i’m gonna run back to him?” you ask in a bitter tone. he steps back a little, blinking at your unexpected tone switch. “what? i didn’t say anything.” he says defensively. you suddenly feel irritated at everything around you. you excuse yourself abruptly while he tries to explain himself. you speed past him, leaving felix by himself outside while you open the doors to the mansion.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
you can’t stop fidgeting with your pen, clicking it rapidly as you scan the words in the open book in front of you. you were sitting in the library, not for the sake of studying but for the sole purpose of distracting yourself from having a mental breakdown in your dorm. you couldn’t even think straight since your hangover was so bad. you hadn’t tried to dress up today, you didn’t even bother to put on makeup or fix up your hair. you knew people would see you and talk, but you were so tired you couldn’t do it. usually when you and farleigh would split, you’d still be in close contact with your (who were really just his) friends. however, this was different. everyone seemed to be avoiding you—everyone except felix. whenever you’d ask to hang out, their only excuses were “i have to study,” or, “i’m busy tonight,” and when they see you, they’d scurry off in a blink of an eye.
you could only imagine what bullshit story farleigh has came up with your break up to make them run away from you. felix was the only person who still spoke to you, but now you think you’ve lost him after what had happened at the party last night. you stop clicking your pen when you hear a cough in front of you. you look up, freezing up when you see a familiar curly haired boy in front of you. “fancy seeing you here.” he says. you scoff, rolling your eyes and avoiding his gaze. he laughs quietly to himself before crossing his arms. “i didn’t know you studied.” he emphasizes the word “studied” almost like he was attempting to mock you—but he knew you did study, he just wanted to make fun of you. “i didn’t know you even knew what a library was.” you snap back instantly, farleigh just smiles blankly at you as he pulls a chair out and seats himself right across from you.
“what do you want?” you ask sternly. he sighs, shrugging. a tense silence fills the air and you’re slowly suffocating. “i’m serious, farleigh.” he stays quiet, his eyes still on you. “what did you tell the others?” you inquire.
“hmm?”
“no one’s talking to me anymore.”
“that’s not true,” he laughs, “felix was just talking to you last night.” you squint at him, brows furrowed. “were you watching us?” you ask. farleigh tilts his head to the side, flashing a deadpan expression. “please, i have better things to do.” he replies arrogantly. you nod, closing your eyes. “i’m sure you do.” you look back down to read the words on the page, not taking in any of the information—but just so farleigh would piss off. you could still see him in your peripheral vision, but this time he’s leaned closer against the table. “get a life, farleigh.” you mumble under your breath. he laughs dully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “that is rich coming from you. you really like assuming shit, don’t you?”
“well maybe if you took my name out of your mouth, i wouldn’t be assuming.” you reply nonchalantly as you close the book, standing up to leave. you pack your stuff back in your bag, turning away from him. he mouths a quiet “wow” before getting up from the chair as well, following closely behind you. he swiftly steps in front of you, blocking you from leaving. he leans closer to you, just inches away from your face. “you think you’re all that,” he starts. “but in reality, you’re just a fucking whore with no personality.” you quietly wince at his response, eyes wide. “you’re lucky that i even gave you a fucking chance. i made you known, and this is how you repay me?” farleigh spits out, he sounds truly angry—you’ve never heard him like this before. “but it’s fine,” he says while leaning back up, “such a shame, you’re a pretty face. too bad you’re boring.”
you can’t muster up a snappy comeback, you just stare at him, scanning his face for any sign of empathy—but there’s nothing. he just looks distant and cold. you glance around, realizing there was a few students nearby listening. you sniffle under him, blinking away your tears as you quickly brush past his arm.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
it hurts to pretend like you don’t care about what other people said about you, because in actuality you take all of their words into consideration—especially farleigh’s. you had successfully avoided farleigh all week ever since the conversation in the library, and in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you had finally started dressing and glamming up. of course, there was still rumors going around about you and farleigh, every day it seemed like there was a new bizzare one. you had just came back from shopping, sitting on the carpet of your dorm. it was getting dark, everyone else in the hall was getting ready for bed. as you slowly dive into a wormhole of your own thoughts, the sound of an abrupt knock on your door brings you back to reality. you blink, turning your head to look at the door.
you choose to ignore it, pretending like you weren’t there. then, another string of knocks pound on your door loudly. “oh my god, i’m coming!” you yell out as you get up from the floor. you pad over, opening it with an unenthusiastic swing. the person standing infront of you was the last person you expected—farleigh. you almost screamed when you saw him standing there. you groan loudly and roll your eyes, immediately reaching to shut the door on him. before you could lock him out, farleigh stops the door with his hand. “can we talk?” he mutters with his head low, almost as if he was afraid someone was going to hear him. you stand still in the crack of the door, contemplating whether or not you were gonna let him in. farleigh whines, shaking his head slightly.
“please?”
you sigh in defeat, slowly creaking the door open for him. he gives you a small smile before sliding through. he looks around your room for a second, taking in every aspect of your interests plastered on the walls. farleigh sits down on the edge of your bed, realizing he’s never actually seen your dorm before. whenever the two of you would fuck, it was always in his dorm, a random bathroom at the pub, or somewhere at the saltburn mansion. he runs his hand against the soft duvet of your bed, laughing to himself when he spots a pile of stuffed animals by your pillows. you shut the door, turning to face him with your hands on your hips. you stare at him, raising your brows as a way of saying “go on,” farleigh clears his throat, clasping his hands together in his lap. “i’m sorry.” he sounds hesitant when he says it, like he’s being forced to apologize.
you blink, staying silent as he stares up at you with bambi eyes. “and?” you press. farleigh sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor instead. “i was just upset, i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you, you know that.” he says with a whiny tone. you’ve been through this same scenario multiple times, he fucks you over, comes back to apologize and beg for you back, then you have make up sex. every time this happens, you forgive him easily, letting him fuck your brains out to forget everything he had said to you prior. you didn’t want to give in again, but the way he was looking up at you with his dreamy brown eyes, his highlighted curls framing his face perfectly, even his cologne was driving you crazy.
you missed him, you missed his voice, his explicit compliments, especially his touch. “i miss you, baby.” he whimpers. you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your excitement. “really?” you ask with dilated eyes as you slowly step over to him. farleigh nods, a small smirk forming on his lips. “please, baby—please don’t make me sit here and beg.” he groans. he looks at you up and down before reaching for your hand. he intertwines his fingers into yours, a perfect fit. farleigh nuzzles his cheek against the soft flesh of your skin, then he kisses your knuckles, a predator like glint flashing in his eyes. he pulls you onto the bed with him, placing you in his lap as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses down your neck.
“let me make it up to you.” he whispers. you moan softly, looking up at him. you lean your head against his shoulder as his hands roam up your back, then under your shirt. “forgive me, okay?” he mutters in your ear. you feel his hands stopping midway to your bra, and you whine softly in response. you lock eyes with him, nodding eagerly. he gives you a faint smile before he continues to unclasp your bra with a swift move. you knew that he’d fuck up again soon, and you knew you would run back to him again—but if it meant incredible sex, you didn’t mind.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
© please do not publish my work on other sites.
75 notes · View notes
redtsundere-writes · 2 days
Text
Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen
Tumblr media
mmafigther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader
Part 12. Between Us
Beginning. ← Previous |
Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Warnings: Cursed words, I only read it once. Word Count: 2879 words. Author's Note: 2 parts away to the end! I'm super excited for what is to come.
Btw I made a PLAYLIST
Tumblr media
Dinner continued as night fell over the elegant panorama. Musicians continued to play all night long, waiters walked around the tables with trays laden with appetizers and people chatted pleasantly surrounded us. I was eating delicious food, drinking expensive champagne, and I was sitting between two super attractive men, what more could I ask for? Definitely a good night. His mother would sometimes give me uncomfortable looks, but Sukuna would scold her every time he caught her doing it. Choso would get me to talk about my plans once I stopped working for her brother. And Yuuji… I didn't want to talk to him after exposing myself like that in front of his family. I knew he was a big gossip, but I never thought he would reveal something like that to his parents. 
When dinner was over, his parents said goodbye to everyone and went back to their house. Or I rather say, mansion. I had discovered that the Itadori's owned a large coffee company that was distributed internationally. Now I understood why Sukuna was so spoiled, he has always had everything he wants from the cradle. Good thing Choso and Yuuji didn't turn out like him. 
“I think we are ready to leave, right, Choso?” Yuuji asked the middle brother before pulling him by the arm to the car. 
“Not so fast,” Sukuna said before pulling him towards him by the hoodie's cap. Yuuji replied to the sudden movement. “We already knew you were a shitty gossip, but today you went too far,” I scolded him while forcing him to stand in front of me. 
“Stop it, Sukuna!” Choso exclaimed to make me let go of his little brother. 
“Shut up! You know perfectly well that what he did is not right,” Sukuna barked. “Apologize to Y/n for what you said.” 
That action coming from Sukuna healed wounds in me that I didn't know were still there. I think it was the first time someone defended me like that. I was so used to always fighting for myself that I had forgotten how it felt to have someone come to my defense.  I don't know if he was doing it out of wanting to discipline his younger brother or to protect me, it was still comforting to see him act so concerned about the situation. I felt safe next to him even though he could act like a monster at times.
“I'm sorry for saying what Naoya did to you in front of everyone. It won't happen again,” Yuuji apologized, avoiding my gaze, ashamed of his actions. 
“You better keep your word,” I told him so. Sukuna would let him go. 
After a quiet ride home, Sukuna wished me goodnight and we both headed to our respective rooms. I took off the cute little girl costume I had put on as I recalled the intimate moment I had shared with Choso and how Sukuna kept nagging his family so he could have a quiet dinner. I sighed tiredly before lying face down on the big white bed. I shoved my face between the goose down pillows as I realized I had spent the whole night fantasizing about two different men. 
“What the fuck am I doing?” I scolded myself. 
Tonight I confirmed that my feelings for Choso were still there, but now they coexisted with the feelings I had for Sukuna, his own brother. What I was feeling was not right, but what could I do about it? I couldn't date both of them to find out whom I liked more. I couldn't play with them like they were plastic dolls. I also didn't want to make a pros and cons list, that seems tacky to me. I looked at the clock, it was 11 o'clock at night. I was sure Nobara was still awake. 
“Well, well… Finally, someone deigns to call me,” Nobara answered the video call. She had her hair up, a mask on her face and a loose-fitting sleep shirt. She was getting ready to go to sleep, he had caught her at a good time.
“I know, I've been busy,” I replied embarrassed. “But now I'm in the middle of a dilemma.” 
“Oh, finally, some tea!” Nobara replied. 
I told him everything that my heart wanted to let out for months. How tender, mysterious and attractive Choso was and how handsome, strong and disciplined Sukuna is. About how much I wanted to go out with Choso to coffee shops and art museums. About how much I wanted Sukuna to give me a clear sign that he liked me as a girlfriend and not as a hamster he had to protect from hawks. The mixture of love and confusion surprised Nobara with every sentence he blurted out. 
“I like them both, and I have no idea what to do,” I finished my confession. 
“Taylor Swift could write a song about it,” Nobara joked before pulling a cheeto out of the blue bag and eating it. “I don't understand why you're racking your brains when the answer is so obvious.” 
“Is it?” I asked confused. 
“Duh. I'm team Choso to death,” I answered. 
“Why?” 
“Do I really have to say it?” Nobara looked at me as if I was stupid. I just kept quiet. She sighed in exasperation and sat up straight to speak seriously. “Choso is the only one who likes you back, and you really like him too. Sukuna only likes you because you respect him a lot and not because you really want to go out with him,” she replied wisely. 
“I see…” I whispered as I realized it was true. 
When I think of Sukuna, I think of his sportswear, how great he looks boxing and how strong he looks against his opponents, but I also think of the thousands of flaws he has. He is an angry, spoiled and rude man. I could have disciplined Yuuji tonight, but he could become a thousand times worse if he set his mind to it. Even though I felt safe with him, I don't know him like I'd like to.  
“Besides, Sukuna may not be like Naoya, but it sounds like he's similar,” Nobara added. 
“You're right,” I sighed before closing my eyes. 
Since that night, I decided to stay sentimentally away from Sukuna. Every time I saw him, I thought about him with a cold head. I saw beyond my rose-colored glasses that made me drool for him. We still trained, ate and spent time together, but I avoided him at times when we could be completely alone. As the days went by I saw him less as a perfect man and more as a cranky friend. 
A month had passed since then and the big fight against Aoi Todo was just around the corner. The entire team had traveled all the way to Rio de Janeiro for the big night that awaited us. Brazil gave us a warm welcome from the moment we arrived. Paparazzi, fans, and sponsors had been bombarding us with flashing lights and posters to autograph since we arrived at the airport. Team Black had finally arrived to rule the place.
Sukuna tried to go for my face as he did every training session. I evaded him with no trouble to land a hook to the liver that knocked him back a couple of steps. After months of exhaustive training, I had already learned Sukuna's pattern of moves. He always goes for the killing blow first, then low attacks and again, tries to knock me out. It's a pattern that repeats over and over again with a variation that occasionally catches me off guard. 
“Keep your guard up!” Gojo shouted at me from the side of the ring. 
I put my arms up to cover my face better. Yuuji and Nanami were watching us fight with Gojo. We were waiting patiently at the UFC offices to be called for the official weigh-in. We knew perfectly well that Sukuna was at his ideal weight, but we had to find out if Aoi Todo was. Being the heavyweight champion wanting to compete for the light heavyweight title, it meant he had to lose at least 22 pounds for the fight to be held fairly. 
Sukuna sent me to the corner with a single jab. I tried to recover, but he was already on top of me, busting me with punches until I reached my limit. I could only keep my guard up until he got tired and opened a door of opportunity. What I didn't count on was that I got a hook to the tit. 
“Oh, son of a bitch! I screamed in pain while I pushed him to let myself rest for a second. 
“I wanted to hit you in the stomach, but since you are smaller, I didn't hit you where I wanted to,” he explained with an evil smile. “That’s some bullshit,” I thought.  
“Sukuna Ryomen, you can go to the office,” a UFC assistant announced. 
“Saved by the bell,” Sukuna said before taking off his gloves. I flipped him off as I took off one of mine. 
The entire team made their way to the office where the official judges and the referee who would be in charge of the fight were waiting for us. The process was simple. They would just weigh the fighters, recite the official rules to both of them, and we could go back to the hotel to prepare for the weigh-in. We had done this several times before, there was nothing to be surprised about. 
“Hello, Sukuna,” Yuki Tsukumo greeted us with a big smile as soon as we entered the office. 
Sukuna, Yuuji and I froze when we saw her next to Aoi Todo. This had to be a fucking sick joke. She was the coach of our new opponent? This only meant bad news. Sukuna completely ignored her to greet the judges, referee and Todo. 
“Good to see you again, Snake,” Yuki greeted me directly while Aoi was weighed on a professional scale. 
“Why didn't you tell me you were Aoi's coach?” I asked her while the judges were taking the necessary measurements for the data sample. 
“Was I supposed to?” She asked pretending to be confused. 
It was Sukuna's turn. He took off his shirt and shoes to weigh himself. I hated to admit it, but it was an amazing sight. Even though I had seen it several times before, I couldn't get used to it. I tried to look away so that my cupid thoughts wouldn’t take possession of my body. 
“How is your brother?” Yuki asked him to obviously annoy him. Sukuna gave him a whiplash with his gaze for even having the nerve to mention his little brother. 
“He's fine,” I answered for him so he wouldn't get in trouble in front of the judges. “Great, I'd say,” I said with a mischievous smile. 
After the judges recited the rules and both fighters agreed, both teams left the office with a tense air following us closely. Team Black began to leave the scene to return to the hotel after an exhaustive morning training and Todo’s gym went to the gym.  
“I hope we have a good fight!” Todo said to Sukuna while shaking his hand. 
Todo was friendlier than I imagined. He had a nice smile all the time, was kind to everyone and had an overall good vibe, unlike his coach. Now I understood why Toji Fushiguro wanted to leave the stage, so fighters like Sukuna or Todo could shine. Todo's team continued on their way to the gym, but Yuki stayed behind. 
“It's good to see you again, how long has it been since we've seen each other? 2 years?” Yuki asked him, ignoring the rest of her team to focus on Sukuna. She wanted to provoke him, I was sure of that. 
“Why don't you go ahead? I have to talk to her,” I said to Sukuna as I stepped between them to distance them. 
“Don't do anything stupid,” Sukuna whispered to me before walking away from us. 
“I would really appreciate it if you would leave my athlete alone,” I said to Yuki once my team had left the hallway. 
“I don't think it's a sin to want to say hello to him,” she said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. 
“You know perfectly well that he doesn't want to greet you after what you did,” I said. 
“So he told you. Did you really believe him?” Yuki asked me in disbelief. 
“Well, Sukuna's version makes you look like a gold digger and Choso's version makes you look like a whore, which one do you prefer?” I asked defensively. 
“I thought you would understand me. You know how hard it is to enter this world as a woman. I needed that job,” Yuki explained, making it clear that Sukuna's version of the story was the truth.
I knew better than anyone that the world of mixed martial arts was complicated for a woman to navigate in. There are perverts everywhere, the other fighters don't take you seriously and the coaches are harder on you. It's a world plagued by men who only see you as a small insignificant being, just because you can't compete directly against them. Women fighters have to work twice as hard as men to secure a place in the industry. 
“It's difficult but not impossible. Did you really have to pick on his brother to prove your worth? You only made yourself worse,” I asked, annoyed. 
“How sad to see you've changed, Snake,” Yuki sighed. “Who knew? One day you're on top and the next you're working for an idiot like Sukuna Ryomen. Weren't you supposed to hate fighters like him?” she said before wanting to withdraw from the conversation, but she was very wrong if she thought I would let her have the last word. 
“It's true that I hate fighters with massive egos like him, but I hate people like you even more,” I told him before following the path where my team had gone. 
“People like me?” Yuki wondered. 
“Bad and stupid,” I said without looking back. I hoped my point was clear.
I continued my way until I reached the reception. Sukuna was waiting for me in an armchair with his arms crossed while watching a TV in front of him, while the rest of the team was awaiting us at the van. “I thought he would go with the others.” 
“You didn't need to do that,” he told me once I got close to him. 
“It is, I can't let a piranha get in my pond,” I answered wisely. 
“Did you put her on her place?” Sukuna asked me. 
 “I insulted her in 4 different ways, what do you think?” I joked. 
“Good,” he said before getting up from the sofa. “I need a favor.”
Oh no, not again. It was the day before the fight, so I already knew what he was going to ask me. I wouldn't do it, not even if he threw me all his money. I was finally over him, I couldn't fall back into the void I worked so hard to escape from.
“I'm not going to fuck with you,” I told him directly. 
“I already knew that,” he replied. My eyebrow raised at that answer. 
“Yeah?”
“It's super obvious that you like Choso, and he likes you too,” he answered. I couldn't help but blush knowing that I was acting so obvious around him. “I need you to do me a favor with Yuuji.” 
I hadn't packed any cute outfit for the nightlife in Brazil, so I decided to wear jeans with a black fitted t-shirt, what I was supposed to wear for when we got back home. Sukuna told me that Yuuji loves to travel to Brazil for the food. So he asked me to join him for dinner while he does his good luck ritual with a prostitute Gojo got for him. 
“Are you ready to eat some good cuts of meat? I asked Yuuji coming out of the bathroom we shared. 
“Of course! I hope you have prepared your stomach because we are going to gain 5 pounds after this,” He said excitedly. 
We left the room to head towards the reception. While I was getting ready, he had made a list of all the restaurants he wanted to visit during the afternoon. We would start at a restaurant to eat picanha, then to an eatery to try feijoada, and finally we would look for some place that sold quindim or brigaidero. 
I listened to Yuuji talk about how delicious Brazilian food is as we rode down the elevator. When the doors opened, we were both shocked to see what was on the other side. There was a girl who looked very much like me in a little red fitted dress that left almost nothing to the imagination. She was not my clone exactly, but her hair, skin tone, face shape and body type were similar. We got out of the elevator and she walked in, greeting us in Portuguese.
“She looked just like you,” Yuuji said to me, still in shock. 
“Yeah…” I whispered impressed.
Tumblr media
Masterlist.
Order your own fanfic! (Starting price: $5 USD)
Tag list: @maskedpacific @thepurpleempath @mazzd4 @charlie-xo @s0uldarling @sunako-0120 @berranurates @00frenchfries00 @crowned-gemini @alialucille @azuremyst99 @dorck26 @esposadomd
40 notes · View notes
Hype Boy | I.N x Reader
-> Pairing: Yang Jeongin x F1 Racer!Reader
-> Request: from @mirlisfreespace
-> Synopsis: Jeongin makes the best hype boy for his girlfriend. Part 02 to I Promise You
-> Warnings: Self-doubt. Anxiety. Negative thinking.
-> Word Count: 390
-> Requests: Open.
Stray Kids Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines
©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you. 
Tumblr media
Jeongin spent nearly five minutes searching for his girlfriend when he finds her in one of the side rooms designated for when someone needs to take a break. Her knee is bouncing anxiously, as she bites her lip, and looking as if she's mentally a million miles away. 
"I've been looking for you," Jeongin says, letting her know that it's just him. "Is everything okay?" 
"I don’t know why I’m even doing this," she replies, avoiding eye contact by looking down at the floor. "I'm not even that good. There are so many other racers that are better than me, faster than me, and more experienced than I am. What am I doing here? I don't deserve to be here." 
"I think your full of shit," he tells her sitting next to her. She glares at him, her eyes glossing over. "You deserve to be here.” he continues, taking her hand in his and making her look at him with his free hand. “You've worked your ass off to get where you are today, and I couldn't be prouder of you. Don't let anyone make you feel or think otherwise."  
"You know how competitive Formula One can get," she sighs.  
"Which is testament to how hard you've worked to get here. It's proof that you deserve to be here just as much, if not more, than the others," he counters. "Now, stop doubting yourself, get in that car, and show them what you're made of. Show them why you deserve to be here." 
"What would I do without you?" she asks a faint smile on her lips as she looks at him loving. 
"You don't have to worry about that because I'll always be here, supporting you and reminding you of your worth," he smiled, pressing a kiss to her hand. 
"I love you," she says pressing a kiss to his lips. 
"I love you too," he says and stands up, her hand still in his, and leads her out of the room so she can prepare for her race. 
As they walk back towards the main area, Jeongin can't help but feel a surge of pride for his girlfriend. He’s witnessed her dedication and passion for racing firsthand, and he knows that she has what it takes to succeed even further in the competitive world of Formula One racing. 
Tumblr media
TAGGING: @staytiny2000 - @dancelikebutterflywings-library - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry
@rainydayteacups - @tinyelfperson - @laylasbunbunny - @skz1-4-3 - @pinkies-things
@kayleefriedchicken - @everythingboutkpop
35 notes · View notes
tulipsforvin · 23 hours
Note
Hiii, how are you? I love your writing sm, especially your Mycroft fics. I didn’t even like his character that much until I read your fanfics about him ^^
So can I request a jealous Mycroft Holmes x trophy wife reader? Something similar to your last post or maybe a continuation?
Thanks sm <3
✦ YOU BELONG TO ME ‧₊˚✩彡
🌷: HII im good :) thnx sm for the kind words !! have a nice day/night
🌷: F!TROPHY WIFE READER x JEALOUS MYCROFT HOLMES
⚠️: such a cliché 🙏, somewhat suggestive at the end.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
surely this was to be expected; you were in no way lacking. the attention your beauty and elegance brought with you was only one of the many implications that came with marrying you. he could handle it, couldn't he? surely he could. you were his trophy wife, an accessory to be shown at the best.
but that position didn't quite please you. no no, you wanted more. you wanted all of him, him and his affections, every bit of his attention. you wanted to be more than just a mere prize to him. which is why..
“right! and then he said—” music & loud voices dipped in cheery laughter blur into the background.
watching yet another group of men group you crowd you for the umpteenth time this night—something began to rise within him. anger, frustration, disgust.. he wasn't sure what it exactly was. perhaps a mixture of them all. all he knew was that it made his stomach feel hollow, his chest burn with something foreign and bile crawl up to his throat.
you high five a nobleman. that noble looks too happy over mere skin contact. the muscle under his eye twitches slightly. ‘really?’ he wishes to say out loud. he's the one who brought you here. you're his wife.
“..mr. holmes.”
“mr. holmes.”
“mr. mycroft holmes.”
mycroft snaps out of his thoughts. “ah.” he blinks. his dark eyes smoothly shift back to the man infront of him. “apologies, secretary general. please continue.”
“...” the secretary general scans mycroft's face for any expression hinting to why he seems so out of it tonight. mycroft is too clever not to notice so he arches an eyebrow and the secretary general clears his throat. “ahem. as i was saying, if we are to implement better rules and regulations then..”
the secretary general's voice fades into the background for the second time this night. mere background noise to mycroft holmes—the man known to be devoted to his work. well.. not tonight though. there was something else bothering him.
“you're so beautiful, miss. (name)!” the man infront of you chirps, a patch of hair on his chin for a beard.
his beard doesn't even connect, mycroft scoffs under his breath, thinking to himself. if you can even call it a beard—it's just barely visible stubble. barely there.
“oh thank you!” your hand pats his forearm lightly.
what on earth are you doing? he wishes he could say.
he glances back at the babbling man infront of him; not a stop to his endless tirade of words. he sighs.
“mr. holmes, are you okay?” the secretary general says, tilting his head to the side by the slightest.
“i am.” mycroft replies curtly, not even looking at him. his attention is somewhere else entirely. on you, to be exact. and that rat looking bastard besides you.
“i should be the one thanking you for attending. otherwise i wouldn't have been able to meet you.” the nobleman's gaze falls to your neck where a beautiful pearl necklace rests. “such a gorgeous necklace, i must say.” he uses it as an excuse to caress your neck with the back of his fingers.
mycroft's face darkens visibly, a vein protruding on his jaw as he clenches it. his eyebrows furrow, forming a small line in the space between.
that's enough. he thinks. he doesn't like that. no, not at all. why aren't you saying anything to that bastard?
instead of pushing the nobleman away, it felt like you were encouraging his actions, letting him do as he pleases with you—and that really irritated mycroft.
a server carrying several glasses of sparkling wine walks to each group of people, asking them if they would like some. when the server comes to you, the nobleman alongside you picks up two glasses.
the man is cheerful as he speaks to you, obviously feeling quite joyous at the chance of being able to talk to someone as beautiful as you. “here, miss. a glass of champagne each for you and for me.”
“thank y—”
in mere seconds mycroft has excused himself and began striding to you, footsteps large and distanced.
“thank you.” a man's hands, large and veiny slithers into the space between you and the nobleman. and when they pull back, they retrieve the two glasses of sparkling wine from the nobleman.
your neck snaps around to the deep, familiar voice behind you. you look up to see a tall and looming mycroft, annoyance plastered across his face, hand you one glass and keep the other to himself.
“mycroft!” you smile up at him, eyes glittering. you take the glass of champagne from him and sip at it.
“o-oh,” the nobleman falters, stepping back instinctively. “good.. good evening, mr. holmes.”
“evening.” mycroft's voice is low and rumbly. an arm travels to your hips and he pulls you in close to him.
“fine banquet, isn't it? i quite like the atmosphe—”
“yes, yes.” mycroft hums dismissively. “pardon me, but me and my wife have somewhere to be.”
that's all he says before he's practically dragging you away, a firm hand still grasping onto your waist—not even letting either of you bid farewell to each other.
“we do?” you peek up at him as you're walking away.
“yes.” his voice is quiet. tight. firm. growly. everything sexy. “i feel as if a little disciplining might be in order.”
you gulp thickly at his words as he leads you to the bathroom. but this was what you wanted, after all.
you can't help the small and subtle smirk that appears on your painted lips. “ofcourse.. darling.”
Tumblr media
25 notes · View notes
callsigns-haze · 2 days
Text
Short love: Chp 14
Tumblr media
Summary: The is about widowed father Bradley Bradshaw who enlists his brother-in-law Jake Seresin and childhood best friend Robert Floyd to help raise his three daughters, eldest Donna Jo Margaret (D.J for short), middle child Stephanie and youngest Michelle in his San Diego home. 
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Warning: Fluff, flirting
My apologies for the mistake. Let me correct that for you:
As Y/n stood in the kitchen, trying to prepare breakfast for herself and Michelle, she felt a sudden tickle in her nose. Before she could react, a series of sneezes erupted, catching her off guard.
"Ah-choo! Ah-choo! Ah-choo!" she sneezed, her nose tingling with discomfort.
Michelle looked up from her toys, a concerned expression on her face. "Bless you, Aunt Y/n!" she said sweetly, reaching out to pat Y/n's arm.
Y/n smiled weakly, feeling a wave of fatigue wash over her. She knew that sneezing fit all too well—it was the telltale sign that she was coming down with a cold. With her wedding just three days away, the timing couldn't have been worse.
Taking a deep breath, Y/n tried to push aside her mounting worries. She couldn't afford to get sick now, not with so much left to do before the big day. But as another sneeze threatened to escape, she couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that she was in for a rough few days.
Despite her best efforts to ignore her symptoms, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of impending sickness. As she continued to sneeze intermittently, she couldn't help but worry about how it would affect her ability to prepare for the wedding.
With a sigh, Y/n decided to prioritize her health and take proactive measures to combat the cold before it worsened. She made herself a warm cup of tea with honey and lemon, hoping it would soothe her throat and ease her congestion.
As she sipped the comforting brew, Y/n made a mental note to rest as much as possible in the coming days, knowing that her body needed time to recover before the wedding. Despite her concerns, she remained determined to push through and ensure that nothing would dampen the joyous occasion she had been eagerly anticipating for months.
Bradley's footsteps echoed down the staircase as he entered the kitchen, a look of surprise crossing his face as he saw Y/n's state.
"Y/n, are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice as he approached her.
Y/n sniffled and rubbed her nose with a tissue, offering Bradley a weak smile. "I think I'm coming down with a cold," she admitted, her voice sounding hoarse. "But don't worry, I'll be fine."
Bradley frowned, placing a hand on Y/n's forehead to check for signs of fever. "You're burning up," he observed, his worry deepening. "You need to rest and take care of yourself, especially with the wedding so close."
Y/n nodded, feeling a pang of guilt for allowing herself to get sick at such a crucial time. "I know, but there's still so much to do," she replied, her voice tinged with frustration.
Bradley shook his head, his expression firm. "Your health comes first," he insisted. "I'll take care of things here. You go lie down and rest. We can't have you walking down the aisle with a red nose and watery eyes."
Y/n couldn't help but smile at Bradley's concern, grateful for his support. With a nod of agreement, she headed upstairs to her room, determined to heed his advice and prioritize her well-being in the days leading up to the wedding.
As Y/n attempted to protest Bradley's recommendations, a wave of dizziness washed over her, causing her to sway unsteadily on her feet.
"Bradley, I'm fine, really," she insisted, her voice wavering as she clutched onto the countertop for support.
But before she could finish her sentence, another dizzy spell hit her, leaving her feeling disoriented and weak. She closed her eyes tightly, willing the room to stop spinning.
Bradley rushed to her side, his hands steadying her as he guided her to sit down at the kitchen table. "Y/n, you need to listen to your body," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're in no condition to be running around trying to prepare for the wedding."
Y/n reluctantly nodded, realizing that Bradley was right. She had been pushing herself too hard, ignoring the signs of illness until it was almost too late. With a sigh of resignation, she allowed Bradley to take charge, knowing that she needed to prioritize her health if she wanted to be well enough to enjoy her special day.
As she sat at the table, feeling drained and defeated, Y/n couldn't help but feel grateful for Bradley's unwavering support and guidance. In that moment, she knew that she was in good hands, and that with his help, she would be able to overcome this setback and emerge stronger than ever for her wedding day.
Stephanie's sudden entrance startled Y/n, her heart racing with alarm as she watched her niece's panicked expression.
"Uncle Jake!" Stephanie called out urgently, her voice tinged with fear.
Y/n exchanged a worried glance with Bradley, her concern mounting at Stephanie's distress. Before she could ask what was wrong, Jake appeared in the doorway, his eyes widening in alarm as he took in the scene.
"What's going on?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he rushed to Stephanie's side.
Stephanie pointed to Y/n, her eyes wide with alarm. "Aunt Y/n is sick!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with worry.
Jake's heart sank at the sight of Y/n looking pale and unwell. Without hesitation, he crossed the room to kneel beside her, his hands reaching out to gently grasp hers.
"Y/n, are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he studied her face for any signs of distress.
Y/n managed a weak smile, grateful for Jake's comforting presence. "I'm just feeling a bit under the weather," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jake's expression softened with concern as he placed a hand on Y/n's forehead, checking for signs of fever. "You need to rest," he insisted, his tone gentle yet firm. "We'll take care of everything."
Y/n nodded weakly, feeling a sense of relief wash over her at Jake's reassurance. With Jake and Stephanie by her side, she knew that she would be okay, no matter what challenges lay ahead.
Stephanie's sudden entrance startled Y/n, her heart racing with alarm as she watched her niece's panicked expression.
"Aunt Y/n! Uncle Jake!" Stephanie called out urgently, her voice tinged with fear.
Y/n exchanged a worried glance with Bradley, her concern mounting at Stephanie's distress. Before she could ask what was wrong, Jake appeared in the doorway, his eyes widening in alarm as he took in the scene.
"What's going on?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he rushed to Stephanie's side.
Stephanie pointed to Y/n, her eyes wide with alarm. "Aunt Y/n is sick!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with worry.
Jake's heart sank at the sight of Y/n looking pale and unwell. Without hesitation, he crossed the room to kneel beside her, his hands reaching out to gently grasp hers.
"Y/n, are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he studied her face for any signs of distress.
Y/n managed a weak smile, grateful
for Jake's comforting presence. "I'm just feeling a bit under the weather," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jake's expression softened with concern as he placed a hand on Y/n's forehead, checking for signs of fever. "You need to rest," he insisted, his tone gentle yet firm. "We'll take care of everything."
Y/n nodded weakly, feeling a sense of relief wash over her at Jake's reassurance. With Jake and Stephanie by her side, she knew that she would be okay, no matter what challenges lay ahead.
As Y/n rested against Jake's comforting presence, she couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his unwavering support. Despite her initial reluctance to admit her vulnerability, she knew deep down that Jake was right—her health had to come first.
With a deep breath, Y/n allowed herself to let go of the worries and stresses that had been weighing her down. In Jake's arms, she found solace and reassurance, knowing that she didn't have to face this challenge alone.
As the minutes passed, Y/n felt herself drifting off to sleep, the sound of Jake's steady heartbeat lulling her into a peaceful slumber. In that moment, surrounded by love and warmth, she knew that everything would be okay.
With Jake by her side, Y/n felt ready to face whatever the future held, knowing that together, they could overcome any obstacle that came their way. And as she drifted off into sleep, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the unwavering love and support of her fiancé, who had stood by her through thick and thin, always ready to lend a comforting hand and a reassuring smile.
As Y/n slept peacefully in Jake's arms, she felt a sense of calm wash over her, the worries and stresses of the past few days melting away. She dreamed of their upcoming wedding day, imagining herself walking down the aisle towards Jake, surrounded by their loved ones and bathed in the warm glow of happiness and love.
In her dream, Y/n saw herself exchanging vows with Jake, promising to love and cherish him for all eternity. She felt a surge of emotion as they sealed their commitment with a tender kiss, their hearts overflowing with joy and gratitude.
As the dream continued, Y/n envisioned their future together—filled with laughter, love, and countless happy memories. She saw herself and Jake growing old together, hand in hand, facing life's challenges with courage and resilience, and celebrating life's joys with boundless enthusiasm and love.
When Y/n finally woke up from her dream, she found herself still wrapped in Jake's comforting embrace, the morning light streaming through the window. She smiled up at him, feeling a sense of peace and contentment wash over her.
With Jake by her side, Y/n knew that their love was strong enough to weather any storm, and that together, they could conquer anything life threw their way. And as they prepared to embark on the next chapter of their journey together, she couldn't help but feel excited for all the adventures that lay ahead.
As Y/n and Jake shared a tender moment together, they were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Bradley poked his head into the room, a concerned expression on his face.
"Hey, guys," he said gently. "How's everything going?"
Y/n and Jake exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Despite their initial worries, they both knew that they were in good hands with Bradley by their side.
"We're doing okay," Jake replied, his voice filled with gratitude. "Y/n's resting now, and I'm keeping an eye on her."
Bradley nodded, a reassuring smile on his face. "That's good to hear," he said. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
With a grateful nod, Y/n and Jake watched as Bradley quietly left the room, leaving them alone once again. As they settled back into their comfortable embrace, Y/n couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude for the love and support of her family.
With Jake by her side and her loved ones rallying around her, Y/n knew that she could overcome any obstacle that came her way. And as they prepared to face the challenges of the days ahead, she felt a renewed sense of hope and determination wash over her, knowing that together, they could conquer anything.
In the following days, Y/n took the time to prioritize her health and well-being. Jake, Bradley, and the rest of the family rallied around her, ensuring she had everything she needed to recover. Despite the initial setback, Y/n began to regain her strength and energy, thanks to the care and support of her loved ones.
As the wedding day approached, Y/n couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and gratitude. She marveled at how the people she loved had come together to support her during a challenging time. The wedding preparations continued, albeit with a more relaxed pace, and Y/n found herself appreciating the simple moments of joy and connection with her family.
tagging:
@callsign-magnolia
@shanimallina87
@callsign-dexter
@horseslovers2016
@rosiahills22
@djs8891
@hookslove1592
@emma8895eb
@hardballoonlove
@kmc1989
@dempy
@mamachasesmayhem
@senawashere
@buckysteveloki-me
@sweetwhispersofchaos
@itsmytimetoodream
@jessicab1991
@ahh-chickens
@86laura11
21 notes · View notes
muzzleroars · 9 months
Note
Pre-Fallen Gabriel will be all: "WHO KNOCKED OVER MY ONIONS!?" before finding the murderer of his onions: V1.
CAUGHT
Tumblr media
292 notes · View notes
Note
aww thank you! and don’t worry i understand how scary starting conversations can be
You sent that after I went to sleep :') And hhh yeah there's a lot of people I have talked to Once and then never again because they don't start the conversation back and I'm too scared to start it myself... or sometimes don't know what to say,
2 notes · View notes
osaemu · 7 months
Text
GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ CAN I PUT YOU ON HOLD? ❜❜
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
.ೃ࿐ he picks up the phone in the middle of fucking you. NSFW
contents: fem!reader. cunniligus, lil' bit of dirty talk and more... i'm too tired to type it all out </3
author's note: idk personally i wouldn't take that.. but i guess i would if it was satoru. anywaysss enjoy
Tumblr media
satoru's a busy man — balancing his responsibilities as a teacher and as a sorcerer is no easy task, but he finds a way to make it work.
anyone who's known him for longer than a minute can easily tell that satoru's committed to his line of work. as much as he complains about it, the truth is that it's one of his top priorities. maybe even the first one.
and you get a taste of just how devoted satoru is when he picks up the phone in the middle of fucking you. 
"hello?" satoru cooes, eyes focused on your indignant expression as he holds a finger to his lips. "yeah, i'm free to talk. what is it?"
"free to talk?" you mouth at him incredulously. satoru replies with a wink and grins, enjoying the show. you're still pinned underneath him, bedsheets haphazardly strewn across your body, and satoru savors the sight of you all needy and pouty.
"yeah, take your time," satoru says amusedly to whoever's on the other side of the phone after a moment. when you reach up and swat satoru's chest indignantly, he uses his free hand to pin your wrists above your head, a clear warning in his eyes.
after a couple of mhm's and of course's, the conversation still isn't over. your patience is waning — who is satoru to just stop in the middle of fucking you to pick up a phone call and say that he's free to talk?
you try to distract yourself by thinking about the mindblowing sex you were having just minutes ago. the longing, glassy stares; the red scratch marks down satoru's back; and of course you couldn't leave out the words.
"fuck, you're taking me so well, sweetheart." "atta girl, you're a natural slut, aren't ya?" "your pussy was made to be fucked by me, wasn't it?"
how did that turn into "yeah, make sure the higher-ups know about this, otherwise they'll give me hell for it. mhm"?
after another bland minute, satoru rolls off of you and sits up with his back against the headboard, sheets falling to expose everything from his waist up. 
you whine in impatience, glaring at him like a sullen child. satoru basically just edged you — one second you're about to get to best orgasm of your life, the next you're forced to watch your boyfriend chat on the phone nonchalantly as if he wasn't just moaning your name like a slut three minutes earlier.
satoru shoots a glare at you and pats his lap, pressing a finger to his lips as a reminder to stay quiet.
well then, he shouldn't have picked up the phone in the middle of fucking you.
you scoot yourself into his lap, purposefully positioning yourself so that your pussy just barely rubs against the head of satoru's still-dripping cock.
it's so worth it when you hear satoru inhale a sharp breath and start to squirm under you, somehow both trying to push himself inside but also trying to inch himself away. it's like he can't decide, but the way his face flushes red speaks volumes.
his voice is breathier than normal as he squeezes his watery eyes shut. "yeah yeah, that's perfect. you mind if i put y'on hold for a sec? alright, thanks."
you glance over at satoru as he retracts the phone from his ear and puts it on mute. not even a second later, he's back on you, manhandling you into a position where he can comfortably eat your pussy, a cheeky smile on his lips.
"you think you're so fucking funny, don't ya?" satoru cooes, looking up at you as he eats you out sloppily. a mixture of his saliva and your essence drips down his chin, and the lewd sounds slipping from his lips are pornworthy. the wail that slips out of your lips when satoru bites down on your thigh hard enough to leave a mark is anything but appropriate, especially when he presses his lips back to your pussy and laughs in the middle of tonguefucking you.
"fuck, you're so lucky my phone's on mute right now," satoru groans, still buried in between your thighs. "god, if my old man could hear you now—"
"your dad's on the other end of the phone?!" you gasp, swatting satoru's head and frantically reaching over him to check if the phone was actually on mute — knowing satoru, it could've just slipped his mind. intentionally.
satoru scowls, muttering a reminder for you to stay still while he eats his dessert before rolling his eyes and grumbling "what does it matter?"
"uh, that's embarrassing!" you whine. when satoru nudges his nose against you again, you reluctantly spread your thighs for him so he can continue his meal. satoru mumbles a thanks, but he doesn't respond beyond that.
"satoru!"
"what??"
"don't you have to finish your call?"
satoru sticks out his bottom lip, fixing his cerulean eyes on you and pouting. "you were just complaining about the call and now you want me to go back??"
"it's your dad, satoru," you groan, pushing his shoulders away from your legs and ignoring his protests. "you don't get any more pussy until you finish that damn call."
"i hate you."
"love you lots, baby."
satoru sighs dramatically and unmutes the call, not bothering to respond to his dad's questions with answers longer than a word or two. after another minute of this, his dad finally hangs up and satoru lets out an elated cheer.
he turns to you with a mischievous smirk. 
"now, where were we?"
19K notes · View notes
yawnderu · 6 months
Text
Currently thinking about neighbor!Simon with a sweet thing who keeps shamelessly flirting with him.
Ghost, the soldier who has been basing his life in self-control and discipline, knocked down a peg or two by his younger neighbor. He doesn't even respond to the flirting, simply replying with a grunt or a "thanks" so quiet you can barely even hear it before he disappears into his house.
Neighbor!Simon, who initially moved to your quiet neighborhood for some peace and quiet— and he gets just that, with one glaring exception.
Neighbor!Simon, who is forced to listen to your moans and whines as you bounce up and down a dildo, filthy nonsense escaping your lips whenever it hits a sensitive spot.
Neighbor!Simon, who seemed amused about it at first and ignored it, but after a few times started feeling his jeans tighten up.
Neighbor!Simon, who cups his throbbing boner over his jeans, trying his best to stop himself from jerking off, yet your whiny moans are taking away any semblance of self-respect he has.
Neighbor!Simon, who timed his strokes with the sounds of your squelching cunt, imagining it's him going in and out of you.
Neighbor!Simon, who pathetically came all over his stomach when you moaned out his name, filthy and overly loud words leaving your lips because you know he can hear you.
Neighbor!Simon, who since then was less of a Ghost in his own neighborhood, actually trying to reply to your attempts at making conversation with him.
Neighbor!Simon, who told you one of his awful dad jokes just to hear the loudest sigh ever, the corners of his lips threatening to tug up at your reaction.
Neighbor!Simon, who eventually started tagging along for anything you did— Grocery shopping? Paying bills? Going to the park? Shopping? He's coming with you, claiming there's lots of creeps around.
Neighbor!Simon, who accepted your offers for dinner, looking at you moving around the kitchen and helping you, imagining you're his pretty little wife.
Neighbor!Simon, who got enough courage to kiss you after being 100% sure you were interested in him.
Neighbor!Simon, who couldn't keep the surprise from showing on his face when during one of your make out sessions, you took him to your bedroom.
Neighbor!Simon, who was a groaning mess underneath you as you rode him, calloused hands holding onto your hips with a bruising grip.
'' 'S what you wanted all along, love?'' He manages to grunt out between his deep groans and moans, hypnotized by the way your tits bounce while your tight cunt takes all of him.
''Since I first saw you.'' You reply with honesty, leg muscles tired from riding him, but his thick cock feels way too good to even think about stopping.
''Good girl.'' He praises, eyes closing as his hips start to thrust up, meeting you halfway while you bounce on his cock, angling up your ass so he hits a more sensitive spot that has you moaning on top of him, his grip on your hips going to your ass while he moves your smaller body up and down his cock, thrusts getting rougher while you finally collapse on top of him.
''Cum inside.'' His hips falter for a moment as he looks at you with raised eyebrows, your hushed confirmation of being on birth control enough to keep him going even harder, driving himself into your cunt at an unlawful pace, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he thrusted deeply, the room filled with the smell of sex, walls bouncing with the sounds of your combined desperate moans as he shoved himself as deep as he could, filling your womb with his thick, fertile cum. It doesn't matter if you're on birth control, his seed is much stronger.
Husband!Simon, who got to come home from deployment to his missus, stomach swollen with his baby.
8K notes · View notes
omgeto · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
☆ COVER UP — tattoo artist!GETO SUGURU
summary: all you wanted was a cover up tattoo to replace the name your ex left on you. you didn't think you'd be leaving the tattoo shop with a replacement for your ex's tattoo and a replacement for him as well.
wc: 3k
cw: afab!reader, geto gives you backshots, he's kinda obsessed w/ your ass here, unprotected sex (since I forget condoms) BUT he's a gentleman pulls out </3 your kinda a meanie. he's kinda a meanie so light angst (?) but barely. MDNI
an: haven't posted a longer work in a hot minute, but here is how you meet tattoo artist boyfriend!geto soooo give this one a chance big fanks to my lil twat @kazushawty for helping me out and reading bits of it.
Tumblr media
as you push open the heavy glass door of ‘cursed ink studios,’ a subtle bell chimes softly, announcing your presence. instantly, the atmosphere inside crackles with an electric charge. the air is thick with the intoxicating scent of ink, mingling with the sterile bite of antiseptic. the walls are adorned with vivid flash art form a chaotic tapestry, while the rhythmic hum of a tattoo gun echoes through the room.
and there he is, geto suguru – a tall, enigmatic figure with jet-black hair and sleeves of mesmerising tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. he sits at his workbench, surrounded by an array of ink bottles and tattoo machines, his piercing eyes never leaving the art he's creating. a carefully curated playlist of music plays softly in the background, punctuated by the occasional buzzing of the tattoo gun.
he glances up from his intricate work as you enter, his gaze slowly travelling up and down your form. there's a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as though he's wondering why you, of all people, have ventured into his sacred space. his expression, however, suggests that he's far from thrilled about the interruption.
"need something?" he asks, his irritation evident.
"i need a cover-up” you swallow your nerves, holding your head high, your voice steady, ”my ex's name."
geto raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by your request. "ex's name, huh? you people never learn."
your jaw clenches at his condescending tone. "well, i'm here now, so can you do it or not?"
he continues to scrutinise you, his gaze feeling like a judgmental weight. finally, he nods, albeit reluctantly. "fine, show me."
with a sigh of resignation, you turn around, your heart pounding as you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to reveal the offending name covering your left ass cheek. it's a constant reminder of a relationship gone wrong, and you're more than ready to be rid of it.
"this won't be easy," he mutters, his fingers cool against your skin as he traces the outline of the name. his touch lingers, just a little too long, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. his fingers, skilled and confident, continued to trace the inked letters of your ex's name on your skin — almost toyingly. and you could feel the chill of the tattoo parlour's air-conditioning contrasted by the warmth of his touch.
his voice, though still gruff, held a trace of disgust "who did this?" he asks, not looking up from the tattoo.
you hesitate, your memories of that past relationship flooding back. "my ex-boyfriend," you reply tersely.
geto's fingers stop their tracing, and he lets out a low, almost imperceptible sigh. "you let your boyfriend do a shitty tattoo on you, and you let him make it his name," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "you practically let him brand you."
“is it your job to be such a bitchy artist?” you snap, already fed up by his comments. you’ve heard it from your parents, your friends, ever since you got that trashy tattoo. but couldn't disagree with that sentiment — you knew it was a shit tattoo. “i thought i was paying you for your artistry, not your smart mouth.”
"listen," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "you walk in here with that god awful mess on your skin, and you've got the nerve to criticise my attitude? if you want to be rid of it, you'll do well to keep that attitude in check, sweetheart."
you bite back a retort, realising that you've indeed crossed a line with your comment. there's a palpable tension in the air now, a simmering anger beneath the surface, and it seems that geto has no intention of backing down.
with a deep breath, you swallow your pride and offer a reluctant apology. "i'm sorry," you mutter, a touch of remorse in your voice. "i shouldn't have snapped at you."
he continues to hold your gaze for a moment, his expression still stern, before finally nodding. "apology accepted."
you didn’t actually have an idea of what you wanted for the cover up, you just knew you needed it gone. geto was a highly sought out cover artist so you had no doubt that he’d be able to do you good. with your initial meeting being heated, you thought it was best to leave him to do his thing.
with a sense of relief that the confrontation has subsided, you decide to give geto some space to work his magic. "i'll leave you to it," you say, your voice quieter now, and you turn away from him.
"good," he mutters, his focus fully on his ipad as he starts to sketch, not even looking as you leave the shop. 
geto usually was quick to draw up tattoo sketches for clients, but when it came to you he was stunned — too busy thinking about how your ass looked rather than what he was meant to tattoo on it. from the moment you stepped in his shop, he was intrigued, you didn’t see the type to get work done by him and the marking stretched on your ass didn’t seem like it would belong to someone with an attitude like yours. 
his mind was anything but focused on the design. he couldn't help but replay the encounter with you in his thoughts, your brashness and the way you'd stood your ground, even under his scrutiny.
"why the hell did she get that shitty tattoo?" he mutters to himself, his fingers deftly working his pen. the sketch was beginning to take shape, but his mind kept drifting back to the curve of your ass. he couldn't deny the attraction he felt, and it frustrated him. he was supposed to be a professional, detached from his clients beyond the art he created on their skin. but something about you had thrown him off balance.
“so you ready to get this tatted on you?” is the first thing he asks when you return the following day. you inspect his sketches in awe, of course you never doubted his talent but you didn’t think he’d be able to draw something you wanted without you even having to say.
“well it seems you do live up to your reputation,” you comment with a neutral facade, but you both know that you were downplaying your excitement — you were pleased. and like with any client, that made geto satisfied that he was doing his job correctly. but when he saw the way your eyes lit up when he initially showed you the sketches, it was a sight he wanted to see again. “i guess we can start the tattoo.”
“okay i’ll get my stuff set up, get rid of those,” he says nodding towards your jeans, “and lay down when you’re ready.” you slip yourself out of your bottoms, leaving the itty bitty thong that you knew you’d need for the appointment and that a small part of you hoped he liked.
he pauses when he sees you laying down on the seat in his station, your head resting in your arms, your ass slightly raised.  ‘this is gonna be a long session,’ he thinks to himself as he smirks, shaking his head as he works his way to his seat.
as he sits down, he places the stencil over your ass, and you berate yourself for getting giddy at the feeling of him rubbing over the design to make sure it was in place — wishing that his hand stayed for longer. 
“how are you with pain?” he asks, and from the way you were laying you weren’t able to see the way he was gawping at your ass.
“what type of pain?” you retort.
“y’know the type of pain where someones drilling into your ass for hours,” he comments as if it’s obvious but you both knew his words were hinting at more than just the tattoo.
“choice words there,” you muse, “but any type of pain i’m alright with, so give me your best.”
geto's needle hovers just above your skin, poised for action. "you sure about that?" he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.
a coy smile tugs at your lips as you respond, "I can handle it if you can."
with a deliberate, almost tantalising slowness, he lowers the needle to your skin. the first touch is a sharp, stinging sensation, but you refuse to flinch. you're determined to hold your own, to meet geto's challenge head-on.
he continues to work, the needle dancing across your skin with a practised precision. the room is filled with the rhythmic sound of the tattoo machine, creating a hypnotic backdrop to your growing tension.
as minutes turn into hours, you find yourself lost in a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. the pain is undeniable, but there's something oddly exhilarating about it. you steal a glance at geto, his intense focus on his work, and you can't help but wonder if he's enjoying this as much as you are.
"still doing okay?" he asks, his tone a mix of concern and something more primal.
you bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan that threatens to escape. "i told you, i can handle it."
geto smirks, his gaze locked on your ass as he continues to tattoo. "you've got quite the threshold for pain. impressive."
“is it really? i'm sure you’ve worked on a lot of other clients with higher thresholds for pain.”
“but none of them have had an ass like yours though,” he mumbles to himself — but you hear him loud and clear, a grin forming on your face at the confession. “anyways, we’re all done now, go ahead and look in the mirror.”
you stand in the full length mirror, your head slightly turned at an angle as you gawp at your ass. your eyes widen seeing what was once your shitty exes name, now turned into a piece of true art. 
“so what d’you think?” he asks, and you didn’t even notice him coming to stand behind you until you felt his breath on the back of your neck, “this shit is hot right?”
“you can say that again,” you agree, keeping your eyes focused on the tattoo, trying to ignore the quickening of your heart beat at the presence of him, “this is really great though, like i couldn’t imagine my ass could look this good after having that tattooed on on it all his time.”
“well no need to imagine anymore,” geto’s face forms a smiling grin, you can tell he was admiring way more than just his artwork, “you mind if i take a picture… for my instagram?” he says, barely asking as his phone is already out of his pocket and is in his hands, he looks up at you for permission and you give a slight nod before he’s snapping away at your ass.
“are you sure this is for your instagram,” you tease, as he continues to take photos crouched down, as he circles your ass with his phone, “or is this just for your personal wank bank?”
“would you like it to be?” he retorts back swiftly, there wasn’t even any mischief in his eyes as he looks up at you, just pure lust.
“um i–” you stutter, only now feeling exposed — as if he hadn’t been working on your ass already for the past six hours.
“don’t get shy on me now,” he coos, standing up to face you head on, “y’gonna let me finish off making you forget that ex or yours or what?”
“be my guest,” you respond, trying to come across as nonchalant, but the eager look in your eyes gave geto all he needed to know. 
he pushes you softly, as he commands, “hands against the mirror and spread your legs.” and you do just that, as he comes behind you, fitting in between your legs perfectly. his hand forces ur back down, deeping the arch of your spine before both of his hands grab onto your ass.
geto really rubs and digs his thumbs into your cheeks, biting his lip at the sight at the way his fingers mould into your ass. “fuckk man,” he groans out, he’s not even in you yet and he was already obsessed with every inch of you. 
he frees his dick from his pants, and pumps it quickly before sliding it across your already gushing slit. you hiss at the contact, a pleased smile working its way on your face as the tip of his dick edges into you.
“s-shit,” you stammer, as he inches himself into you deeper, “w-what about the rest of the shop?”
“what about them?” he shrugs, “you don’t want them to hear naught you’re being right now? HEY GUYS—”
“oi,” you hiss out, your eyes widening as you turn your head to look directly at him.
“i’m just playing, i’m not ready to share you quite just yet,” he retorts, his dick moving in you at an achingly slow pace, “now, keep your eyes focused on the mirror, and you better not let those hands slip.”
before you can respond, he thrust his hips into you as deep as he could, his dick slamming into you. you moan out at the surprising force, trying your best to keep your palms flat on the surface of the mirror, as you stare straight at him — watching how he works his hands from your ass to your hips so he can drive into you with all of his force. 
“this pussy is s-so fucking good,” he praises, the sloppiness of your cunt making it easy for him to slide his dick in and out of you. “oh and this ass,” he continues giving a hard spank on your ass cheek, to emphasise his point, “c’mon throw your ass back on my dick, i wanna see it bounce.”
you fuck him back, doing exactly as he says, your ass meeting his hips with the same amount of force. his spanks encourage you to be quicker, to give him everything he wants. his repeating, strong strokes, have you feeling weaker, your hands slipping as you try to stay up right, when all you want to do is collapse and cum everywhere. 
“f-fuckk it’s too much,” you whine, as he drills into you.
“nah,” he says, shrugging his head, “it’s not enough,” he lifts up his legs, his digits pressing into your deeper, as he now angles his strokes even further into your pussy, hitting your spot with ease. “give it to me harder, i know you can” he encourages, another two swift spanks landing on your ass.
with his continuous contact of your ass and his hips, and the way his dick pushes into you deeper, you felt like you were splitting in two. but you kept going, thinking back to your earlier conversation, you didn’t want to prove him wrong, you wanted to show him that you can handle it, handle him.
geto was practically beaming, licking his lips feverishly at the sight of your fucked out face through the mirror as he watches himself plough into you, your body rocking forward with every thrust. his eyes concentrate on your ass, as he says, “d’you see how your rocking my work on you now?” and you nod dumbly, too busy trying to reach your climax to string a sentence together, “so fuck that ex of yours and his shitty ass tattooing, from now on you only can me on your body, you got that?” he asks and you nod again, but he shakes his head, his hand moving from your waist to your chin as he grips it making your eyes stay locked on his through the mirror, “i said do you got that?”
“ahhh s-shit yet i do, i do,” you say, mirroring his words, “i will only have you on my body, ‘promise.”
“good girl,” he approves, giving your chin a squeeze before letting go, “now cum.” 
with those simple words, you release all over him, your stance getting weaker, as you shoot out cum all over his dick. he’s quick to pull out of you though, stroking his dick as he sprays his cum all over your ass, with a deep groan.
your hands are still on the wall, as you take deep breaths, trying to recollect yourself. but you turn around swiftly seeing a flash of a camera behind you, and geto is back to crouching down, with his phone out, taking pictures of your cum covered ass.
“you mind if i keep these in my wank bank forreal this time?” he asks, smirking as you nod, “i’ll take some more later, but i got two questions to ask.”
“and those are…” you say, prompting him to continue.
“first, let me take you out after this?” he asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer. after the way he just dicked you down, you’d be a fool not to let him wine and dine you, “second, y’gonna come suffocate my face with that ass of yours or not?” you couldn’t even answer the second question since he’s pulling you down to the floor with him, with a joyous grin on his face.
Tumblr media
AN: IGNORE THE FACT THAT HE CUMS ALL OVER UR FRESH TATTOO. LIKE JUST IGNORE IT. just focus on the fact that you have a lovely ass and geto loves it too. but yes do you want to see more, I HAVE ENOUGH IDEAS TO EVEN MAKE A LIL MASTERLIST FOR IT. I love tattoo artist boyfriend!geto so so much, like when u guys become an established relationship it actually gets so good. BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE THIS ONE, BUT IF U GUYS FW IT I PROMISE ILL ACTUALLY WRITE AND POST THE ONES I LOVE. BUT I FELT LIKE I HAD TO WRITE THIS FIRST SO YOU COULD SEE HOW U AND GETO STARTED. LMK UR THOUGHTS
9K notes · View notes
pierregazly · 29 days
Text
but mama, i love him ꨄ oscar piastri smau
oscar piastri x leclerc!reader
the one where oscar's girlfriend has been soft launching their relationship for ages. and he's okay with it, especially if it means he can keep hiding in plain sight from her three overprotective brothers.
Tumblr media
ynleclerc
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
tagged charles_leclerc
liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and others
ynleclerc omg omg omg... charles leclerc signed my hat? should i add it to the shrine? give them something to sacrifice?
view all comments
username any non-f1 fan would automatically assume ynleclerc is a crazy fan page for charles
username or a charles leclerc hate page... all she does it make fun of her brothers here
username she's offering her signed hat for the tifosi to sacrifice for a CL16 win??? that seems like pure love all around
arthur_leclerc i also signed your hat?
ynleclerc i also do not care? will a hat signed by you get me millions if i sell it for sacrificial purposes?
charles_leclerc what's next? my personal belongings?
ynleclerc is that an offer? if so, oui. i will take what i think will make me the most money next time i'm there, merci <3
scuderiaferrari if it gets us a 1-2 finish, sacrifice everything ynleclerc... please 🙏
username being a Ferrari fan is so satisfying when you remember ynleclerc is an automatic inclusion in everything and anything charles does
username the things i would do to have her as a McLaren fan... she's too beautiful for Ferrari 😭
oscarpiastri a piastri hat will get you good money in straya btw
username oscar??
Tumblr media Tumblr media
oscarpiastri
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by logansargeant, landonorris, mclaren, and others
oscarpiastri 'stop hitting me with the ball on purpose you jerk' was said more times than it should've been, by someone who really just sucks at tennis. had an awesome week back home, time to get back to it 💪
view all comments
logansargeant no wonder you're so worried about getting run over
username the coordinating outfits?? i'm gonna scream, who is she!!!
username what does logan know, tell us your secrets girl logansargeant
username oscar is gonna soft launch this relationship until the end of time. show us her face, you coward!!
ynleclerc did you pay her for all the bruises that tennis ball left?? poor girl
oscarpiastri it's not my fault she's a terrible tennis player, we all know i've offered to pay for a trainer
landonorris so this is why you couldn't come to bali with me 🤨
username lando really said i'm the third wheel??
username to be fair i'd probably pick oscar's girlfriend over lando for a week away too
username girly you don't even know who she is!!! she could be the devil
username i wanna be included in oscar's post week home photo dump :(
ynleclerc has posted a story
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, pascale.leclerc.355, and others
replies
oscarpiastri you can call me pookie whenever you want if you're gonna post things like this
ynleclerc i'd call you pookie with or without your permission, mon amour
charles_leclerc who is this
charles_leclerc why won't you tell us who you're dating
charles_leclerc we won't hurt him
charles_leclerc answer my texts
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ynleclerc
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, and others
ynleclerc get you a man who can do both, luckiest woman in the world whenever you're around. mon amour 🤍
view all comments
username people involved in formula 1 and their obsession with soft launching everything NEEDS to be studied
username at least she posts her boyfriend and he isn't just a small figure in the background of every post (charles this is a direct hate comment)
arthur_leclerc this would have been very lovely if it weren't for the last photo
liked by charles_leclerc and lorenzotl
ynleclerc suppose it's a good thing you could easily ignore it. cheers :)
pascale.leclerc.355 trés belle, ma fille 💗
charles_leclerc maman?
username could you IMAGINE if ynleclerc told pascale but obviously hasn't told her brothers? i can FEEL the outrage
username starting to think this may be a driver, ynleclerc is at every race weekend and ALWAYS makes a post with her mystery man at some point during the week after...
username okay ms sleuth (i think it's lando)
username i'm like 65% sure it's oscar, and 35% positive it's someone that looks a lot like oscar
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ynleclerc
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
tagged oscarpiastri
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris, and others
ynleclerc someone exposed us on twitter, so i had to expose us on instagram 😮‍💨
comments on this post have been limited
oscarpiastri love you <3
oscarpiastri i will love you even when a ferrari has run me over, of course.
arthur_leclerc is this your way of telling me i was right, without texting me back?
charles_leclerc this must be a joke, non?
pascale.leclerc.355 so very excited to finally be able to invite the both of you for dinner. trés belle 🤍
charles_leclerc maman, you knew?
ynleclerc oscar and i will see you for sunday dinner, maman! <3
tresbelleleclercspam
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others
ynleclerc live feed of oscar running away from charles in the paddock when he said he 'just wanted to talk, mate'
view all comments
charles_leclerc i truly just wanted to talk about the race
charles_leclerc i did not have a speech planned, non
arthur_leclerc i did have a speech planned
lorenzotl i just wanted to welcome him to the family, as a good big brother should
oscarpiastri my apple watch warned me of an overactive heart rate 5 times today. why did you do this to me. why couldn't you have three sisters???
ynleclerc so very sorry, in our next life i'll try to make sure you only have to worry about sisters and not three overprotective brothers
oscarpiastri as long as i get to spend every lifetime with you <3
Tumblr media
i actually got a request for something like this ages ago, and finally got around to finishing it. i so hope you all loved it as much as i loved writing it. thank you for all the support!!
i'm not currently taking requests, but if anyone has lil suggestions or prompts please feel free to send them.
4K notes · View notes
rafesaddiction · 7 months
Text
It's not cheating when he's your best friend – Rafe Cameron x Reader
Tumblr media
See here for part 2
Summary: You and your best friend Rafe want to watch some movies together, but your jealous boyfriend keeps calling you and makes you cry. Rafe takes care of you.
Concept: best friends, one bed
Warnings: mdni! – smut, fingering, sex, p in v, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), jealousy, hints at toxic relationship, name calling (reader is called slut), protective!rafe, but also kinda mean!rafe
Word count: 3.9k
“Now what has the dick done this time?”
“His name is Nick and you know that,” you punched your best friend against his chest, causing him to mouth an “ouch!” and rub the spot you had hit, pretending to be hurt, though you knew even if you'd tried, you could not actually hurt him. He was so much stronger than you. And hitting him with your fist, you just felt his hard muscles and actually hurt your own hand a little.
“Whatever. He's a dick for sure,” Rafe shrugged, reached over you to grab the popcorn. His arm brushed your chest, just hardly touching your shirt, and weirdly it made you shiver.
You frowned at Rafe who had already turned his face towards the TV screen again. You were sitting next to him on the floor in front of his bed. Sure it wasn't as comfortable as if you had been sitting on the bed, but it was kind of your thing. Yours and Rafe's. When you were kids you used to do that all the time, sit as close to the TV screen as possible, because “it was like going to the movies”, the screen seemed so much bigger. Now the screen was actually huge, it still felt bigger sitting on the floor and looking up. You kind of felt like kids again, even though you were both adults now. It was a feeling of nostalgia, something you hadn't known you had missed that much.
It had been a while since you had done this, just a movie night with your best friend since childhood. Though your college wasn't that far away from the island, you had hardly seen Rafe in the last couple of months. And you'd missed this, hanging out with your best friend. Watching a movie marathon – Rafe had picked tonight's movies: all four John Wick films. And even though you had rolled your eyes when Rafe told you, you had to admit the movies were actually fun to watch. And you enjoyed yourself, eating popcorn, sitting next to each other, chatting or just watching in silence when a scene got extremely exciting.
You enjoyed yourself more than you had in a while. And you were so glad that you had agreed to spending time with Rafe before you would have to drive back to college the next day.
Well, you had enjoyed yourself, until your phone just wouldn't keep quiet. You had it on silent, but you could see the screen blinking. And you couldn't ignore it, because it might be important.
It was your boyfriend who had been texting you. And you hated to leave him on read, so you replied. But he didn't stop. You told him – again – you would call him later, you were watching movies with your best friend. His answer wasn't what you had hoped for.
You were just typing back when Rafe asked you what your boyfriend had done.
You really didn't want to talk about it, you wanted to relax, not think about your boyfriend or college or the next day when you would have to return, not think about how much you had missed just being yourself in the company of your best friend.
But your phone kept ringing. Your boyfriend was now calling you. You sighed.
You saw Rafe glancing at you sideways.
You should just put your phone away, and ignore it. But you were already too upset to enjoy the movie.
So you got up.
“I gotta take this,” you told Rafe, pointing at your phone, and you didn't even wait for his reply, but went to the adjoining bathroom and closed the door behind you.
You took a deep breath before answering the phone.
“Hi babe, I—” But your boyfriend didn't let you finish. He started talking right away, though it wasn't actually talking, he was yelling at you. He was furious that you had ignored him. You tried to explain, but he wouldn't listen.
“Why haven't you told me who you are meeting?”
“I didn't think it was such a big deal. Rafe's my best friend, you know that. I've known him since forever…”
Your boyfriend went to high school with you, so he knew who Rafe Cameron was. And he had never gotten along with him. Which was okay, because you only started dating at college. And that was when you found out that he hated your best friend. But since you hardly ever saw Rafe, he was never really a topic in your relationship. Until now.
“Don't think I'm stupid, y/n. He's not just a friend. He's Rafe Cameron.”
“But he is my friend!” You had tried to keep quiet, but your emotions were in turmoil. You didn't know how it had happened, but you were almost feeling angry.
“A friend who wants to fuck you. But that's what you want, huh? You just wanna be one of his dumb sluts? He's using you!”
Tears filled your eyes and you couldn't hold them back at his harsh words.
“That's not true,” your voice sounded weak and you sobbed.
He wouldn't listen. He just accused you of these ridiculous things, calling you names, and then he just hung up. You tried to call him back, but the call went straight to voice mail.
Your mind was racing, your heart was beating so fast, you felt it would explode in your chest. Tears were running down your cheeks, but you didn't even care to wipe them from your face when you left the bathroom to return to Rafe's bedroom.
He was still sitting on the floor in front of the bed. The movie was paused, you noticed from the silence in the room, and it kind of touched you that he had been so considerate to pause the movie, so you wouldn't miss a scene.
He looked up at you, but you tried to avoid his gaze as you walked closer.
“I need to go,” you said, hardly audibly.
“What?” Rafe frowned at you. “Dicky calls and you come running?”
For a moment, you wondered if he was hurt. After all, you had promised to spend time with him, watch a John Wick marathon. And you hadn't seen him for so long.
“I can't do this now,” you sniffled and shook your head. You couldn't deal with your best friend's hurt feelings too now, even though you felt bad. But you needed to leave now, you needed to make things right with your boyfriend.
You reached down to pick up your bag that was lying on the floor next to Rafe, when he suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you down. You let out a surprised gasp as you fell right onto his lap, where he caught you, where he held you.
You struggled and tried to get up.
“Let me go, asshole,” you punched his shoulder, but Rafe only held you closer in both his arms.
“What now? I'm the asshole, but he makes you cry?”
Rafe grabbed your jaw, making you look at him when you tried to turn your face away.
“Let me go,” you said, blinking tears away.
“Only when you tell me what's going on. What has he done to you?”
You tried to shake your head, struggling to get up, but he was stronger, so much stronger, and the way he held you, held you like he would never let go off you, you became overwhelmed by your emotions, no longer able to get your act together, instead of pushing away, you now clung to your best friend. You buried your face at the crook of his neck, and he held you. Tears were soaking his shirt and he caressed your hair. You were shaking and trembling and sobbing, and Rafe pulled you closer.
This side of him wasn't new to you, but no one else knew him like this, caring, protecting. And you had only seen him like this on few occasions. And it was like your body reacted to his. Though your feelings were still in turmoil, your shaking had stopped, your crying became quieter. Your hands were still clinging to the fabric of his shirt.
He was quiet and you could just feel his calm breathing, when you got quieter yourself after some time. He did not say anything, did not urge you. And you felt so comfortable. So safe. And you realized that you hadn't felt like this in months. You hadn't felt like this since you left.
You were only sobbing quietly after a while and moved your head back, to gaze at your best friend.
He looked at you, and on his lips was a little smile, as if he was looking at something precious.
You suddenly became very aware of his gaze.
“Don’t look at me. I look like a mess,” you cast your eyes down.
“Hot mess,” he said softly and you felt your cheeks flushing.
You tried to punch his chest, but he caught your fist in his hand, wrapping it around it, holding it. This time, you didn't try to struggle and pull it away, you felt this warmth from the closeness, not just surrounding your hand. You looked up from his big hand holding yours to his face, finding his eyes still on you.
“You're fucking beautiful and if he doesn't make you feel that way, he doesn't deserve you.”
An incredible heat was rushing to your face and you knew you were blushing crimson.
“You only say that because you’re my best friend.”
“I shouldn't say that because I am your best friend…”
Your lips opened at his words, but instead of speaking you only breathed in. And you could feel his breath on your face, on your lips. You closed your mouth and unconsciously your tongue touched your lips, as if trying to feel something there.
His blue eyes looked at you, so intensely, you could almost feel them on you.
His fingers moved and he was caressing your hand still in his. It was such a light movement, such a delicate touch, but it sent waves of electricity through your body. This tingling sensation made you restless and your body wriggled in his arms, making you well aware of the fact that you were sitting in his lap. You inhaled sharply.
“I should go,” you mumbled and tried to get up.
Rafe held you tighter, his hand around your fist pressed against is chest. His other arm around your back.
“Rafe, let me go,” you urged.
“Only when you tell me what he's done to you.”
“Nothing.”
You shook your head, but Rafe suddenly gripped your jaws again, and this time so hard, it hurt a little. He looked at you, his eyes narrowed, a frown on his forehead and his voice was so stern, so commanding, it made you shiver.
“What did he say to you? Tell me now.”
You looked down with your eyes but somehow you couldn't refuse his command.
“He called me a dumb slut and said you just wanted to use me.”
There was silence, a cold, icy silence. You watched his face.
His brows furrowed, his nostrils flared, his jaws clenched.
“I'm gonna kill him.”
You saw his eyes darken, his handsome features grew tense. And even though you were sure that he didn't mean what he said, you felt a shiver running down your spine, because he kind of looked as if he meant it.
He was about to get up, and you were slipping from his lap in that motion. But you clung to him.
“No, Rafe, don't!”
And even though you were weaker than him, your hands pressed on his broad shoulders and you somehow managed to push him down, so he remained seated and you found yourself straddling his lap now.
His chest was rising and falling, as if from exhaustion. His hands found your hips and you felt you were panting too. Suddenly feeling so hot and restless.
“I'm gonna go,” you said, but you didn't get up.
“I can't let you drive like this. You’re a bad driver anyway, and you'll surely crash into some tree or something when you drive in this state.”
You frowned at his words.
“But I need to get back to college in the morning.”
You felt his hands grip your hips firmer, even though you didn't try to move.
“You can just stay the night and drive in the morning after you've rested.”
It wouldn't be the first night you spent at your best friend's. Though it had been a while.
“Rose is redecorating the guest room – again. You can't sleep in there. But you can sleep in my bed, I'll sleep on the floor.”
“But –”
“No buts.”
And that and the stern look on his face shut you up.
You weren't in the mood to continue watching the movie marathon and it was late anyway, so you decided to go to sleep. Rafe gave you one of his t-shirts to wear for the night, and you went into the bathroom to change and wash your face. It was a warm night, so you only wore the t-shirt over your panties, it was way too big for you, but it was extremely comfortable.
When you returned to the bedroom, you found Rafe putting a blanket on the floor next to the bed, making some make-shift bed. He was just wearing boxer briefs, and even though the light was dim, you could see his well-defined body clearly. You'd seen him like this before, of course. Like when you had been at the beach or swimming in the pool. Yet somehow, seeing him in his underwear felt different, more intimate.
You stood there, hands clutching the hem of the oversized t-shirt at your thighs. And you looked at him when he straightened up and turned towards you.
You felt his eyes travelling over your body and you quickly started moving towards the bed.
“What are you doing there?”
Rafe tilted his head. You pointed at the floor.
“You don't have to sleep on the floor. Your bed is big enough for the two of us. This is ridiculous.”
“Yeah, maybe I don't want to get hit when you're tossing and turning in your sleep?”
“I did that once! When I was eight!”
“Once was enough. And it really hurt when you punched my ribs in your sleep. So, no thank you. I'll take the floor.”
Rafe took a pillow from the bed and was about to set it on the floor when you grabbed his arm, to get that pillow back.
“You're stupid. This is stupid!”
You frowned at him, pulled at his arm, to get the pillow, and in your struggling with him, he must have lost balance, because you suddenly found yourself on your back on the bed and Rafe was lying on top of you. That pillow still in his hand, your hand around his wrist, with his arm and yours above your head on the bed.
You looked up at him, your face just an inch away from his. You could hardly see his features, but you felt the proximity, felt it so intensely. Felt that heat that was radiating from his body, felt it crawling over your skin. You felt the weight of his body on yours. And your breathing got harder.
You felt him shift, just a bit, on top of you, as if trying not to crush you and you inhaled and his scent filled your lungs.
You felt a light touch on your cheek. The fingertips of his free hand caressed your face.
“I'll sleep in the bed with you, if you promise me not to cry over that douchebag anymore,” his voice low, as he spoke those words, moving his lips so close hovering over yours. His eyes held your gaze. You nodded softly. And he got up and you exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding in.
You kept lying on your back, just for some seconds, unable to move, still feeling his fingertips on your cheek, his body's weight pressing you down, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.
But then the bed tilted and you looked to the side, seeing that Rafe was getting into the bed, and you moved to make room for him.
You lay on your side, facing him as he pulled the blanket over you. His face once again close to yours, just for some seconds.
“Night, y/n.”
“Good night, Rafe.”
He turned on his back and switched off the lights. You turned to the other side and closed your eyes, focused on his breathing. You felt your own heart beating so rapidly at first, but after some time, you got calmer and were able to relax.
You must have fallen asleep, because when you woke up, you felt Rafe's body close behind yours, his arm loosely wrapped around you. You smelled his dark scent so intensely, felt his heat getting under your shirt. You felt his breath at the back of your head and a light shiver was running down your spine.
“Rafe?” You softly whispered his name, but he must have been fast asleep. He didn't answer, didn't move.
Carefully you placed your hand on his, your fingertips feeling along his long fingers.
He didn't move. His breathing still so calm.
His chest was pressing against your back and you could feel his regular heartbeat. It felt so familiar. You felt so safe.
And yet you couldn't stay still.
You bit your lips and moved, just a bit, arching your back, moving your butt back, pressing it against his crotch.
His breathing remained calm, telling you, he was still asleep, still unaware of what you were doing.
And you moved your butt just a little bit more and you felt him, felt him so prominently, you gasped in surprise. That tingling you felt turned into something hotter and you felt your core pulsing all of a sudden. You were breathing through your opened mouth as you felt this heat rushing through your body.
But Rafe was still breathing calmly, he was still asleep.
You felt him stir behind you, felt how hard he was, poking against your ass.
His palm was on your lower stomach. You felt it move under your hand. His calm breathing so close to your ear.
His hand moved down, moved over the fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing, and the pressure made you gasp and push back a little more.
You let go off his hand, but grasped the sheets. You tried to calm your breathing, but you were panting as you felt his fingers move under your shirt, felt his warm touch on your burning skin.
You couldn't see anything but you pressed your eyes shut nonetheless as his fingers slipped into your panties. They touched your heat, touched your most sensitive parts.
You let out a small whimper and your back arched further.
You listened, but he was so calm, so still, as if he was still asleep, and only his fingers were moving. And they moved between your legs. His fingers gently parting your folds.
You pressed your mouth shut, but you were sure that embarrassingly whining sound could be heard in the darkness of the room.
His fingertip rubbed your pearl and your body reacted, tensing up as you felt this incredible hot need literally throbbing.
You felt his breath so close to your ear and it sent a different kind of shiver through your body.
One finger slipped inside you, and you clenched around it hard. But he pushed deeper and you gasped. And you didn't know how but you were so wet, it made it easy for him to add another finger, though you pressed your legs tightly together.
For a moment, his digits just remained there, inside you, not moving. So very still like the rest of his body.
Then you felt his hard cock pressing against your ass, the length between your cheeks. And as if following some instinct, you rocked your hips, rubbed against him, creating more friction, creating more heat that made you shiver.
His fingers started moving inside you, pushing deeper, curling, and finding a spot that made you outright moan, and unable to suppress that sound.
His thumb pressed hard on your pearl, teasing you and sending hot bolts of pure need through your body. And your body was on heat, there was no other way to describe it. Every cell of your body was aching for his touch now. And he touched you, so good, so intensely, so determined.
You were moaning and whimpering as his fingers opened you up, made you spread your legs, urging him to go deeper, pushing against his thrusts, and pressing against his hardness.
You felt your climax building up quickly as his fingers pushed harder, moved deeper and more ruthlessly inside you, taking you.
You felt his hot lips on your neck as you pushed your head back, your body convulsing. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, but you weren't sure if you were trying to stop him – or if you even could.
His thumb rubbing your most sensitive pearl, making you clamp your walls around his fingers, you couldn't have stopped it, it was almost as if he was forcing that orgasm into you and you gave in, gave in willingly and with everything you had, everything you were, letting that wave of pure pleasure roll over you. Moaning shamelessly, your body trembling as his fingers fucked you through an overwhelming climax.
You lay there, panting, sweat covering your body, and you were still feeling dizzy from the aftermath of that amazing orgasm, when you felt a shiver of cold. He lifted the blanket off of you. And before you could ask why, you felt his hand on your thigh and he lifted up your leg. And before you could wonder what he was up to, you felt his fingers push your soaking wet panties to the side. And before you could really grasp what was going on, you felt his hard cock push inside you from behind.
You cried out as you were stretched by his thickness.
His hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries, as he pushed deeper, pushed his whole length into you. You felt like he was splitting you in two, he was so big, pushing so hard, but at the same time this was all you wanted, all your body was craving for.
Your body shook from his hard thrusts, and he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close, making you feel his rapid heartbeat, making you feel him, so intensely, you forgot where you ended and where he began. You felt as if you were melting into him as he took you with long hard thrusts, took you as if you were only his.
And when you felt his hot cum spilling inside you, your body convulsed so hard around him, making him gasp into your ear and you came again, and he was fucking you through another high, this time not as fierce, but even more intense as you felt this connection with him, something you had never felt before.
You were still panting and your body was trembling as he rolled you around and took you in his arms. His lips kissing your face, tasting your sweat, tasting your tears.
“You're one of my sluts now.”
You froze as you heard his dark whisper.
“What?” You moved your head back to look at him though it was too dark to make out his features.
“I said, go back to sleep now,” he said, softly. And kissed your forehead, before cradling you in his strong arms. Your head resting against his shoulder, as he held you. Held you close.
a/n: Thank you for reading. This was probably much sweeter than what I usually write. I hope you enjoyed it. All feedback is very much appreciated.
6K notes · View notes
aphrogeneias · 7 months
Text
𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 — squirting
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: shy!reader (not "innocent" or inexperienced, just a little more reserved). penetrative sex.
Tumblr media
Chrissy didn't know what she was doing.
It was an innocent question — as innocent as the questions being raised could be, that night. The conversation had quickly descended into more risqué subjects after Steve had gotten a little too tipsy and started complaining about his lack of luck on his latest escapades.
Nothing out of the ordinary, really. You were all used to talking about sex in one way or another. Eddie was famously loud about it, always having a story to tell, his or otherwise. Stories that made you imagine yourself on the receiving end of, guiltily wanting your friend to do those same things he was describing to you.
You kept those fantasies to yourself, though. Not wanting to be teased by the girls, maybe even worse, have them try to set you up with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if Eddie ever rejected you, or dated you out of pity. There was no scenario where this would work in your mind, no "you and Eddie", just you and your thoughts of him, where he would never hurt you, where all he did was make you feel good, imagining it his hands on your body, roaming until they found that place between your legs, instead of your own.
That night, it was no different. After Steve started the conversation, there was no stopping it. You often listened more than talked — not due to lack of experience, you were just a little too shy to share too much, even among close friends — but when the talk switched to Robin commenting about making her girlfriend squirt, you slipped.
"Good for her."
Your reply may have sounded a little more bitter than you'd anticipated, because, one by one, all of your friends looked at you. Maybe it was the scoff that has left your mouth, maybe it was the alcohol that had loosened your tongue. 
"What was that?" Nancy asked, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you.
"Yeah. What was that?" This time, it was Eddie who repeated her question. He sat on the opposite couch with his legs spread, tight black jeans stretching on his lean legs, making you wish you sat between them. You avoided his eyes.
"Nothing. I mean…", you signed, already regretting having said anything, "it's good! Good for her. Robin is good to her, that's a good thing."
You cringed even before you could finish all those convoluted sentences.
"Honey, have you ever… you know," Chrissy asked from her place on the floor, sitting as delicate as a fairy. "squirted?"
"No." You said, simply. Scared to run your mouth even more. "It's not a big deal. Doesn't happen to everybody."
"Have you tried?" Steve asked from behind his beer. He got a myriad of answers ranging from "that's not how It works, dingus!" from Robin, "it's not a matter of trying" from Nancy and "don't ask that, dude" from Eddie.
"I don't even know where to start, Steve. And before anyone asks, yes, I have cum from sex. Just not… like that."
You wanted to crawl into the nearest hole. It was even worse when you could feel Eddie's eyes on you, like he could see right through you. He tilted his head, and you weren't able to handle the kindness in his brown eyes. You looked away.
Your friends' opinions diverged again, making questions and trying to get you to speak, but you couldn't deal with their scrutiny anymore.
"C'mon, guys. It's fine! Can we change the subject, please?" You tried to swerve them. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. Maybe I'm just broken like that."
They shrugged. You shrugged. They moved on — but Eddie's eyes stayed on you for the rest of the night.
You're on Eddie's passenger seat, right in front of your apartment building, later that night when he brings the subject up again.
"I don't think you're broken."
The two of you had spent the entire ride silent, which was odd since Eddie was the chatterbox between the two of you, always filling the gaps with anything that would cross his mind. Neither that, nor his music filled the silence between you.
"What?" You looked at him, still not believing what you'd heard.
"You said that maybe you were broken like that. That's not true, you're… you're perfect."
That feeling of wanting to hide came back tenfold, making your eyes fill with tears. "Eddie, forget about it, please."
"Hey," he brought your gaze back to him with a finger to your chin, delicately turning your head. "I meant what I said. You're perfect, it's just that no one's taken the time to treat you right. It takes patience, from both sides."
"Yeah, and?"
"I was thinking that maybe I could change that. If you'd let me."
One thing you'd always admired about Eddie was his strength of conviction. He never said anything he didn't believe in, and backed it all up. His voice never faltered, he doesn't shy away from speaking his mind — and you hated that you were forcing yourself to disbelieve him.
"Eddie…"
"Look at me." He pleaded, and in spite of your concerns, you did as he told. His eyes bore into your with a sincerity that was so painfully him. "You can say no. I'll go home and we'll forget about everything I just said. But, sweetheart… I'm dying to prove you wrong."
Eventually, he did.
After you'd gotten up the stairs to your floor kissing and tugging at each other's clothes, letting Eddie's tongue taste yours over and over, stopping to let yourself be cornered against the wall by him. Getting lost in the feeling of his solid body against yours, the smell of him — a strong, masculine perfume, cigarettes and beer — making you dizzy, his lips on your neck making you even dizzier.
After he took your clothes off halfway down your living room, reverencing your body with his rough hands, kneeling between your feet in the middle of your halfway. He made you cum for the first time that night with his mouth, kissing your pussy the way he kissed your mouth, sucking on your clit the same way he sucked on your tongue. You came as you pulled his hair, his strong arms around your hips preventing you from falling.
After he guided you to your bed, still craving a taste of you. Hands not knowing where to sit still while he pulled another orgasm from you, his fingers deep within you, curling and stroking your walls, his mouth still not leaving your clit. Your ears buzzed with the force of your climax, not being able to hear Eddie's praise. "That's my girl," he said, head resting on the plush of your thigh, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, "doing such a good job, but I'm not done with you yet."
After he made your eyes blur with pleasure when you finally entered you, rubbing the head of his cock on your sensitive bundle of nerves, once, twice, three times before putting it in, slowly bottoming out. Leaving kisses all over your face, shining with sweat. You didn't think you could take it, curling your toes and hugging his narrow hips with your spread legs, feeling each thrust with a tenderness you never did before.
After he filled and stretched you to the brim, pulling out only to push it all in again. Uttering against your skin, broken whimpers, your name on his lips like a prayer. You were beyond the point of forming words, kissing him to stop yourself from screaming. You could feel yourself dripping down your pussy, and into the sheets, soaking Eddie's cock.
After he pulled your thigh higher up his waist, and stood on his knees, pounding into you with measured speed. He hit your spot over, and over, and over — you grabbed the sheets with both hands, repeating his name like a broken record, music to his ears.
"Yeah? That feels good, baby? Am I making you feel good?" Eddie looked like a god above you. Wild hair down to his shoulders, pale skin slick with sweat, eyes drilled on you. You made the mistake of looking down to where your bodies met, watching his thick cock drenched with your juices, going in and out of you. His pubic hair, also matted with your wetness, creating a delicious friction against your clit. "Tell me. Who's making you feel this good?"
"You, Eddie." You whimpered. "You, you, you. Always you."
"That's right, baby. That's" a hard thrust, "fucking," a a squeeze of your thigh, "right."
You felt your orgasm approach with a  deep pressure on your navel, building and building until you couldn't keep It down anymore. You let yourself go, the ringing in your ears louder and cleared, cumming with Eddie's name on your lips.
That's when you felt it. You were limp in your bed, with Eddie above you. You'd felt him cum too, dropping his weight above you, but still keeping himself steady by his elbows. but everything was distant, like it was happening in a dream. Slowly, you came back to yourself — to Eddie, gently coaxing you with sweet words, and to the warm wetness coating your thighs, your ass, and Eddie's lower half.
"Did I…?"
"Fuck yeah, you did." His boyish smile, so different from the confident smirk you saw not moments ago, made you smile too, weakly and still a little embarrassed, but too satisfied to care.
"Happy now?"
"Only when you do it again." 
4K notes · View notes