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twst-rose-prisms · 1 day

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Twst boys and their respective Vocaloid songs

As the title said, I've been wanting to assign some Vocaloid songs for the twst characters as there are quite a lot of songs that specifically fit them! I'll include some lyrics part as of why I think it fits along with a small analysis + song link! I'm letting my Vocaloid braincells taking over this time hehe 🌹❤️

Shout out to my bestie @twst-megane for helping me out a bunch once again!!

Characters: All NRC students Warning: Some of these songs contain angsty/dark themes or imply self-harm, however it's nothing too much as that's the nature of Vocaloid songs in general and I recommend you checking them out if you guys can!

Part 1 | Part 2

🌹 Heartslabyul 🌹

Riddle: Bitter Choco Decoration

Pretty self-explanatory from the lyrics if you remember Riddle’s backstory with his strict, controlling mother. His entire life up until he became a student has been under his mom’s influence and it ended up him being too strict even to himself and his emotions - just like the meaning of the song too.

“Bitter choco decoration I long for the ideal that everyone wishes for Bitter choco decoration I reduce my individuality and my emotions to ashes Bitter choco decoration Kill your desires and ego, and bury them all underground Bitter choco decoration I've finally grown up, mama” “Surely, tomorrow, and the days after This hell will continue on and on. Alas, so please, just for now Let me keep the feelings I had when I was but a child And be the naked me.”

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Ace: Lost One’s Weeping

Being a rebellious person, I’m thinking this song fits Ace the most as it’s about questioning the flawed system, questioning one’s being and purpose and that if we have to keep living under some sort of authority for the rest of our life. As you can already see how he acts in Book 1 towards Riddle - defying authority, questioning it, and being rebellious about it.

“Can you say the formula for area ratio? Can you say the dreams of your childhood? Who threw those dreams in a ditch? Hey, who was it? You know who it was! When are you going to grow up!? What is a grown-up anyway? Do you know who has the answers? Hey, what should I do? I don't care anymore!”

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Deuce: RAD DOGS

I picked this song for Deuce because of the lyrics, but also the beat and the meaning. The strong, powerful beat with the fast rap part really fit him don’t you think? The lyrics speaks of the struggle of going against the grain and choosing a life of freedom, although it comes with an effort and the ability to face everything life throws at us. We need to take a leap of faith and not settle for anything less than what we truly want, emphasizes the importance of taking a risk and restarting, not worrying about the reason or justifications for doing so, just like how Deuce acts in general with his goal and dream.

"My unseen devotion, sympathy that I don’t feel, and all the things that I can't have What kind of story? Whose story is it? If you don't have something, you'll start to want it, isn’t that right?" "Now, I’ve decided to restart for the first time Just saying “I want to be like you” is all you need, right? Not knowing the reason why, not needing the reason why I'm defying against fate’s rules" "Now, I’ve decided to restart and burst out Just saying “I want to see it” is all you need, right? Let that groovy sound beat, let me hear that heartbeat Since there’s no time to just stand still" "With the tailwind blowing Alright, we keep going forward without looking back"

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Trey: Ai no Material

Trey gives me a melancholic, casual and mature vibe, like an older brother who you can depend on anytime and he would give you his usual smile. That’s why I picked this song for him, although he always helps out everyone but I feel like he can be lonely sometimes, like perhaps he would need a helping hand or maybe some support. When I read the lyrics I think of him! I want to interpret it as Heartslabyul to Trey, who’s been always working hard for the dorm, and it’s the message that he might want to hear the most!

"(Jump into tomorrow!) It seems that the stars will fall down. (Always) You wear a sparkling smile. (With a smile) But even if it's hard, you hide the pain away, (Want to meet you) and without showing it, you just laughed." "I always want to smile, after all. It's not hard, so I'm going to try harder! I wonder if I've been embracing such a lie tightly, And kept walking all this time." "Fly up more, higher and higher. If it's you, you can do it with a smile. But it's okay even if it's just a little bit, It's okay to quietly depend on me too." "Words like "I'm alright" or saying "I'm okay", While showing your usual smile. I understand those lies you utter, And that's why I tug on your hand."

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Cater: Phony

I know it might sound like it doesn’t fit him but in my opinion, this song sums up Cater as a character. We haven’t seen much of him in actual depth, but I definitely think he has more than he just appears. This song talks about how a person can mask and deceive themselves in lies, they’re aware of it, but they have to put it up in order to meet societal expectations. A constructed image or persona - the “fake” that they created and now they struggle to reconcile with their true self, and I think he is like that as well. (Aniplex please more Cater content for us we're waiting-)

“There’s no flower in this world more beautiful than an artificial one That’s because everything is manufactured from lies Antipathy world” “The rain of despair pelts my umbrella and Dampens my bangs and the hidden side of my heart Oh, it’s all so troublesome” “Before I knew it, the words had already withered The fruit of the truth is ripening within me Painting lies upon the mirror’s reflection, a “makeup” of the loss of oneself” “Before I knew it, the mimicked cries joined the unpleasant chorus Their eyes, leery, are dissolving you I am missing from the mirror’s reflection. There is only a “fake” that everyone mistook for someone else”

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🦁 Savanaclaw 🦁

Leona: Meltdown

The song is about one wanting to disappear, wanting to kill their old self and erase everything as if it’s like falling asleep. Though I think this song can be interpreted as having depression - and from what we see going on with Leona, I feel like he does show signs of it, I wish they would dive deeper into his story in Book 2 though! Other than that, I feel like the lyrics in here suit him a lot, especially the “sleep” part in the lyrics.

“I'm like a lighter out of fluid My insides are on fire Sometimes I wish It was all a lie” “I want to jump into the core My memories would melt into brilliant whiteness and disappear If I could jump into the core I feel like I’d be able to sleep again like I used to” “If I jumped into the core I'd vanish, like I had gone to sleep A morning without me Would be perfect All the gears meshing together That's how the world would be”

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Jack: Night Sky Patrol of Tomorrow

I think this song fits Jack a lot, the vibe is definitely for him but also the lyrics as well. The headstrong vibe, full of uncertainty but also full of hope for tomorrow, despite feeling hopeless at times but what is important is never give up and head forward to the future. The song’s meaning is to convey resilience, independence, and the importance of cherishing the present moment even when you’re uncertain about some things. You could also take this as a JackMC song haha, It just fits him a lot imo!

“I'm a boy who picks out his enemies to fight, Depending on whatever suits my mood. No hopes for the future, I wanted to be drawn in a dream." "And yet I fear the future, Hating tomorrow, wishing towards the past. There's no longer anything I can do, so I shout, "Tomorrow, tomorrow, please, don't come!" "If you want it, then make it come true yourself." Eh... You said that..." "I think about what I want, To go see you again tomorrow night. But I don't know, maybe you won't be there, But even so, we will always be one." "So, see you later, Sky Arrow, let's smile on! I want to be together with you in the future, However short our time may be, so I'll shout out, "Remember this day someday in the future, whoever we are then..."

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Ruggie: Moonlight

This song fits Ruggie a lot in terms of lyrics, with numerous mentions of rags and junk and collecting them together to the longing of being your own self instead of being in someone else’s shadow and chasing after them. The singer compares themselves to a piece of junk or trash as they think of themselves lowly, just like Ruggie himself. The mention of moonlight here represents the singer’s ideal that they always chase after, like Ruggie’s life goal. Overall, the vibe of the song fit him a lot! (I recommend checking out the Vivid Bad Squad version too!)

“A collection of junk, Covered with a piece of rag, A replica in a hideous shape Words spun by someone else, Tones played by someone else, A fake made by a distorted collage of them” “Even being junks, even a piece of rag In the blood pumped from its heart There was only my own anger In the end, there must be nothing left Love, spun songs, and my name will one day fade away I wonder why? It's stuck in the back of my chest, A loneliness similar to the silence of a winter night” “Whether or not I'm a fake, Looking back now, there was only Those blurred memories” “The irony of being a waste, I'm trying to get out of the cliché, but "Another rehash of someone else’s work?" "Is even your identity a trick?" "Do you want love, even if you have to steal it?" “Even being junks, even a piece of rag After following the never ending dream I'll find my own light, all the way”

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🐚 Octavinelle 🐚

Azul: Delusion Tax

In my opinion, this is the most fitting song I could think of for Azul. As said in the lyrics, we all have desires of our own, and the person (or in this case Miku) in this song is a genie that can grant any wishes, but in the end everything come with a price, anyone who make a wish with her will have to sell a part of themselves. Sounds just like Azul and his contracts don’t you think? But you can also think this reflects Azul’s own desires once you know his backstory too! (and also, check out this amazing art by my bestie! Her art is amazing!!)

“Turning wishes into reality Right now, buy back your future! Afflicted by so badly wanting to do “that”, consumed by desire Come now, let’s go beyond all this pain” “Existing for your sake alone, mandatory affections and obligated kindness Though you should be satisfied, a voice from within shouts “NO!” We have an idiot on our hands, it seems…” “None of it will come true if you don't pay the price Look, just up and borrow the "desired amount" Reality is a bitter-sweet pill to swallow Come now, let’s go beyond all this pain” “That which you wish for, the person you think of, The past which you hate as well, they’ll all be as you like. The kind of face and chest you desire, they’ll be granted if you pay. “It’s a promise”

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Jade: SHANTI

I feel like the song is pretty self-explanatory, as you can see with the lyrics. It just fits Jade’s job and his approach to the “targets” and lure them into signing a contract with Azul, but it’s probably just more than the said goal… But you can never tell with that smile of his as his “kind” words accompany his looks. Until you realized you fell into the trap and become one of Azul’s underlings due to the contract (at least, until post-Book 3, but who knows)

“Hey, young man who’s hanging his head Did something bad happen? If you’re fine with me, do you wanna talk about it? I can help you What in the world happened? That sounds terrible, brother I'll give you this, so cheer up, ok You can pay me back next time” “So you came again tonight Was it to your liking? The fee is this much Huh? Huh? Huh? So you can’t pay Then it can’t be helped I’ve got the perfect job for you, so come and follow me”

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Floyd: Matryoshka

A chaotic, addictive rock song that is very fitting for Floyd. Why though? According to the wiki “Most of the lyrics are nonsensically vague or ridiculous, with a slight hint of pain or sadness, giving the overall song a crazy and psychotic feeling. Therefore, the lyrics have been interpreted in various ways.” Just like the moody guy himself, don’t you think?

“My headache is singing about a package The clock's hand is stuck at 4 o'clock No one would tell me why But the world has begun to rotate in reverse” “Ah, would you please dance even more? Kalinka? Malinka? Just play the strings" "What should I do with these kinds of emotions? Won't you please tell me? The signal reception is good, 5-2-4! Freud? Keloid? Just hit the keys Let's just laugh everything off Hurry up and dance, you group of fools!" "Together let's clap our childish hands To this intentionally deranged rhythm Surely, I couldn't care less about everything The world's temperature is beginning to melt”

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#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #vocaloid #riddle rosehearts #ace trapola #deuce spade #trey clover #cater diamond #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #vocaloid music

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itsabouttimex2 · 19 hours

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Oooh how about some yandere headcanons of Tang , Redson and Azure lion with a reader who’s very reckless? They’re always throwing themselves into danger whenever the team is fighting, and reader just insists they’re trying to help. Please if not no worries XD

Sure thing! Also, I think I’m going to grind out a few more requests before I wipe my inbox. I let it grow shamefully out of care during my hiatuses. Then I’ll open up Character x Character (still platonic) requests for a while.

“Y/N, I find that I have warned you many times about this kind of behavior…”

You look up to the leonine demon with a frown, gripping one of your upper arms as a form of self-support. How many times have you heard this lecture? How many times would you hear it in the future? Every time that you so much as try to help him in a fight, you’re sat down for this same spiel.

But you don’t remember him ever being this stern. In fact, he seems-

“Cub,” the lion says, carefully taking your chin between two massive fingers. He says it pointedly, as though preemptively arguing his stance- you’re young and small, still a child to him. One he sees as worthy of his love and protection, even if you might try to reject it.

“Y-yes, Azure?”

“I would like you to pay close attention when I’m talking to you, please.”

Even upset, the demon remains polite and gentle, if rather firm. His fingers are soft to the touch, claws carefully sheathed. He’s never used them against you, not even once. Nor has he even threatened you with them.

His massive hand shifts to your hair, stroking the unruly strands back into place. His metacarpal pad squishes into your cheek, and you can’t help but lean into it, savoring the brief moment of warmth he offers during this long scolding.

“It seems I must switch my methods- clearly, my words will continue to fall on deaf ears if I continue down this path.”

Azure outright scruffs you- snags you by the cape attached to your pauldrons and lifts until your feet leave the ground.

“Come along, cub,” the lion says, as though you have a choice at the moment. All you can do is dangle from his blue-furred hand and try not to squirm, hoping that your cape won’t rip and sending you tumbling.

The training grounds are a familiar sight, hours and hours spent here together, learning all of Azure’s skills.

He presses a wooden training blade into your hands, then takes up one of his own.

“If I cannot teach you, perhaps a full day of training will. We will be sparring from this moment to your bedtime,” he sternly informs, a blush creeping up your face at his final word. That your mentor saw you as so young that he enforced a strict bedtime was…

Well, you tried to tell yourself it was reasonable. After all, if you were growing stronger and exhausting your body, you’d need lots of rest, wouldn’t you?

Didn’t justify the constant checking on you through the night, tucking you in every time the blankets come loose, and ensuring that all the windows were shut and locked.

And you had no doubt that was where you’d end up, exhausted and face-down on your bed, letting Azure gingerly knead out your aching muscles with his massive paws.

But all of that was for later. For now?

You had a full eight hours of training ahead.

Good luck, Y/N.

“No.”

“Wuh- what the hell do you mean, no?! I haven’t said anything yet!”

“And the answer is still no, brat.”

This is the most frequent conversation you and Red Son seem to have, constant preemptive denial of whatever scheme you’re dreaming up.

He’s viciously protective of you, serving as an ever-vigilant guard. Not only is your every move tracked and monitored, but your actions are under constant and fierce scrutiny.

“I see you went to that cheese tea stall, Y/N. After I told you that you weren’t allowed to go.”

“Red, they moved it to the inner city! It’s way safer there, so all your arguments before don’t even matter anymore!”

“…hmph. I suppose I’ll let this slide, then. But I’m not going to be so merciful next time.”

Constant restrictions on where you go and what you do, which could theoretically be lessened to some degree, if only you’d just stop being such a damn fool.

To him, your actions are proof of immaturity, preventing Red Son from genuinely trusting you or letting loose the stranglehold grip he’s taken on your life.

To you? You are genuinely just trying to help the people you love, if a bit recklessly.

But Red doesn’t see it that way, and even when you try to make a convincing argument as to why he should, it’s promptly shot down.

So with debate and brute force both proving pointless in changing his mind, you switch to stealth and subterfuge instead. Expect to get caught about fifty percent of the time, then forced back inside and placed under lock and key.

He loves you, dammit! Why do you have to be so stupid?! Why do you have to try and sneak out?! Why can’t he love any other idiotic mortal around?!

Why does it have to be you?

Red Son can’t imagine that he’ll ever find out why he came to cherish someone as small and weak and stupid as you… but he does.

And since he can’t force himself to stop caring, he’ll just have to impose harsher and harsher restrictions until you finally submit to his care.

Maybe then he’ll finally be able to berate thoroughly talk you out of your heroic ‘delusions’. Maybe you’ll crack and break down, finally discouraged from your kindness.

Just this once, he’ll let you cry into his shoulder.

It’s the least he can do for the person he loves most.

Oh, this poor man. Weak ankles, frail body, fragile heart. You are not doing him any favors by acting recklessly.

“Y/N, NO! Put that down! You- you can’t just go around swinging random swords- stop spinning it!”

“It’s fine, Mister Tang! Mei’s been teaching me!”

“Teaching you to what?! Get yourself killed as quickly as possible?!”

Yeah, he’s constantly on the verge of falling apart. Given that the scholar genuinely just wants to keep you safe and sound, it’s absolutely nerve-wracking for him to deal with you.

Expect him to turn to the Noodlefam for help eventually. Given that they cherish Tang as much as he cherishes them, it’s not hard to rally them into lending him a hand.

He’ll speak to MK about the whole matter, talking him into keeping an eye out for you. He might even convince the young hero to whip up a clone to keep surveillance on you, trying it’s hardest to keep you out of trouble.

As for Pigsy, well… if Tang sees you as a child, let’s be honest- so does the chef. Man has a ladle locked and loaded for the backside of your head, and a sharp remand to go with the sting. “Enough messing around, Y/N! Put the damn sword down and help me with these dumplings already!” And at his words you reluctantly clamber down from the windowsill you were crawling over, settling back at the counter to help the porcine demon prep a meal.

All three of them together have zero issue with keeping you under control, but Tang is clearly the most dedicated here, and sometimes on his own in tending to the matter.

You have to sit through hours of scoldings and lectures. When he’s finally done trying to impart upon you why what you’ve done is dangerous, Tang sends you off to bed with his worried words ringing in your ears.

He’ll stop by to tuck you in, of course. Even when caught in the maddening throes of obsession is Tang kind, always looking to dote on you in some way.

There’s definitely worse people to be dealing with, at least.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Azure Lion #Yandere Tang #Yandere Red Son #Yandere Mentor

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daydreamalley · 6 hours

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A Ramble about Phase 19 of the Fifteen Manga Ft. Storm Bringer spoilers

Just absolutely cannot get over the 15 manga. I love the light novel so much, but this manga adaptation is so ridiculously amazing. Dazai and Chuuya’s proximity/touching has been amazing of course. I adore the way Hoshikawa draws Dazai and Chuuya as well (my baby boys, especially Chuuya). But these last two chapters with Rimbaud and Verlaine. Like, fuck. The whole “At least, one of them felt that way,” part just hits so much harder in the manga for me, with the art and page placement. And this whole most recent chapter. Like firstly, you don’t have to end every chapter with like Chuuya getting stabbed okay, help me out here.

Comparing the last page of phase 18 with Verlaine and the first page of phase 19 with Chuuya makes it so obvious that Rimbaud is seeing the similarities between them with just that parallel, which is confirmed later with Rimbaud quite literally seeing Verlaine standing behind Chuuya.

Not to mention in phase 18 the “That’s right Paul, I remember you,” in conjunction with him seeing Verlaine in Chuuya.

Then that flashback with Verlaine carrying Chuuya and Chuuya’s just so small I could cry.

Like, I knew he was small, but he's just so young, I can't. People were experimenting on him. Like, how??

The way Rimbaud wants to ask Chuuya something and Chuuya crouches down to him. Which leads to Rimbaud putting a hand around Chuuya as he tells him to live. How close and personal they are when Rimbaud says all of this just make it feel so much more impactful for Chuuya. Kinda love too that Chuuya isn't just standing over Rimbaud. He's making it obvious he's open to listening.

Rimbaud says a lot of shitty things to Chuuya up to this point, even complaining that he has to kill a kid while only referring to Dazai, completely not acknowledging Chuuya as anything more than Arahabaki. But once he fully remembers what happened with Verlaine, I feel like that’s when Rimbaud remembers what he truly believed about Verlaine and his humanity and how that extends to Chuuya’s humanity. Because Rimbaud’s whole final speech is most definitely things he’d also thought of or told Verlaine before (as I think is confirmed in SB). I think those are Rimbaud’s true thoughts and beliefs on the matter, it just took that long for him to remember the full story and how he felt about it all. Rimbaud saw Verlaine’s struggles with humanity, and now he also remembers why Verlaine betrayed him. And so he tells Chuuya to live, just as Verlaine wanted him to back then, live without the burden of worrying about your humanity or where you came from, because “you are you.” It doesn’t matter if Chuuya (and Verlaine) “are but a pattern etched on the surface of raw power.” In Rimbaud’s mind, and honestly where we eventually end up at the end of SB, is that it really doesn’t matter what your origins are, whether someone is an artificial personality (aka pattern) etched onto raw power, because really everything is some version of a pattern upon the world. And in a word with abilities, a lot of people are a pattern connected to a power. Just as in SB Chuuya decides that even though Adam isn’t human and he knows it, it doesn’t take away from Adam’s actions, his sacrifices, or his dreams. Same goes for Chuuya and Verlaine. Their origins don't affect how human they truly are. Their humanity is significant no matter what. It just took a bit more convincing for Chuuya to get there, a little more than what Rimbaud could offer on his (almost) deathbed.

Anyway, Chuuya holding Rimbaud’s hand as he dies just does things to me. Like, the book described that “Both Chuuya and Dazai quietly listened as if there was something in what Randou (Rimbaud) was saying that they couldn’t allow themselves to miss… Some things, however, would not return to normal: the body of a man who no longer felt the cold, and the hearts of two boys who stood rooted to the spot, staring at him. A gust of wind peered through their souls as it passed them by.”

This page just so well depicts that last line. It truly feels these boys have heard something so monumental, that they won’t ever forget. Standing in the aftermath of their first fight together, hearing these words about humanity that both mean so much to both of them. Dazai’s expressions really convey this to me in the manga, and convey it just so beautifully. And Chuuya being so close to Rimbaud when he speak those words just makes it feel like those words truly are so monumental for him. And also this means that Chuuya fought to kill a man, that to be entirely fair and clear was trying to kill him first, and then held to his hand as he dies, and there’s just something about this added detail that’s so significant to me in portraying the weight of it on Chuuya. Chuuya's connection to Rimbaud is a complicated but important one. But really these words are important for both boys, because let’s not forget that Dazai also struggles with his humanity. Even if he doesn’t have a physical reason to doubt his humanity, like Chuuya, there are many other reasons that he does doubt it. So hearing that all people and all of humanity are really just patterns within the physical world, human or not that’s true of everyone and everything, and that’s important for Dazai to hear too. I think both boys think back to Rimbaud’s final speech quite a bit, if I’m being honest or did for a while.

I am NOT getting over the detail that someone (Chuuya??) put Rimbaud’s scarf on his grave. I just… it does something to me and I love that detail so much. And cutting back to that “You are you” line while Chuuya’s talking to the grave is just so perfect in my opinion, and again just shows the significance of it so, so well. It’s like, he's talking to Rimbaud, complaining about his actions really, and then it cuts to that “you are you” and it just shows almost the contrast I guess between Chuuya feeling unrest at not finding stuff about his past that Rimbaud could’ve given him, but maybe wouldn’t have anyway, and Rimbaud’s statement that those things don’t matter because Chuuya is who he is beyond all that. Also the little dandelion blowing into the wind, to me also signifying a wish being spread.

Anyway, entirely unnecessary to end the chapter with a big knife in Chuuya’s back, thanks. Especially after Chuuya mentions how he’s still exhausted from everything. Like let’s just, stop, please.

He's just a boy, leave him alone for the sake of all things good.

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annoyinglibra · 1 year

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They should invent medications that don’t make me believe my friends would be happy if I died as a side effect

#so far I don’t even know if these are going to help me with my physical pain #nor can I be sure that the emotional side effects will stabilize #but within an hour of taking my meds I’m convinced my friends would have better lives if they never met me or if I just ended it all #the secret third thing it makes me think is that I don’t mean enough to anyone for them to care that I’m in their life to begin and #to begin with and*#subsequently don’t care whether I’m dead or not #so I would simply like medications to not do this to me #because it makes me have a terrible night with terrible dreams and then my day starts terribly because of it #and I have to hope that I can turn my mood around at some point or else I’m just depressed all day too #I told myself I’d stop making vent posts after I was getting dangerously close to talking about certain things but I’ve come to terms #with how I can’t tell anyone for a myriad of reasons. not sure I’ll ever even tell my therapist. but regardless I’m not worried about that #now. so at the moment it’s literally just me needing to vent that these medications make me want to fucking die because I believe people #are either better off without me or that I’m meaningless enough for nobody to care to begin with #like the other day I literally dreamt that I got shot and was bleeding out but my friend didn’t give a shit #which is entirely unlike him he’s a good person even if I’m worthless he’d care that someone is like. dying.#ugh and even this! I genuinely believe I’m worthless rn #all sorts of stupid shit that I’ve mainly gotten through except at my worst times #has come back to just being a daily thing #and I don’t want to talk about it because it makes me feel pathetic and like a burden #and if I talked about these feelings to andrei it’d scare him so much that my guilt just won’t allow it #<- for the record if you know him please don’t tell him all of this he already knows and also even though I want to kms I won’t #it’s just that I can’t like.. get help for it as often as I feel it because nobody in the world is equipped to hearing the person they love #say they think the world would be better if they were dead literally every night because that’s how often I feel it #the funny part for me is literally nobody irl is aware of how bad this is because I’m 1) good at acting 2) don’t want to scare my mom or #brother because they already had to deal with years of me actively being suicidal 🤪#if you managed to read all of this you’re a fucking saint and I don’t deserve you in my life even if you’re just a follower who’s never #interacted with me before. I still appreciate you #delete later

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luvyeni · 5 months

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❛COCKBLOCKERS❜ ( 00' liners )

authors note. based on a dream i had 😊 enjoy !

p. roommate!00' line x fem!reader w. 6.4k+

— 𖦹 warnings. unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, oral ( f. receiving ), dirty talk, haechan is a munch, size kink ( jeno duh.)

— 𖦹 ( living with four boys isn't easy for your sex life , but luckily your roommates are here for you) !

“Do you even masturbate?”

Living with haechan for almost 2 years, you were pretty used to these questions — to the point were you don’t even flinch at the questions anymore. “Of course I do, i'm human haechan.”

“Yeah but i've never caught you, and i've caught just about everyone who lives in this apartment.” He was referring to your other roommates; jaemin, jeno and renjun — who were also used to his antics. “That’s because jaemin has a exhibition kink and jeno is a himbo so he forgets to lock the door, I've caught both of them multiple times.” Jaemin shrugged, smirking. “Can’t say you’re wrong.”

“Im not a himbo.” Jeno looked up from his phone. “Whatever you say, renjun is the only one I haven’t caught, because like me he’s smart enough to lock his door.” You said, speaking of the boy who finally exited his room. “What about locking my door.” He said. “She talking about when you masturbate.” Your eyes widened at haechan completely taking what you said out of context.

“W-why are you talking about that?” he cough, rubbing the back of his red neck. “Haechans bitch ass took that out of context don’t worry.” You threw the pillow at the boy, he dramatically fell back. “So where do you do it?” He asked, picking the pillow up. “In my room or in the shower, jesus haechan not everyone gets off in the open spaces.” You said.

“Wh-why are you guys having this conversation right now?” Renjun finally asked the right question. “Because jaemin and haechan think she’s asexual because we’ve never seen a boy come in and out of this apartment for her, and she never leaves the house.” You scoffed at jeno, meanwhile renjun regretted asking the question. “In other words, she’s not getting any dick.”

You scoffed, and that totally wasn’t your fault. “Well im sorry but not many guys like the or are comfortable fucking in a apartment when you have a mans voice yelling ‘yn where’s the chopstick for the ramen!’ or ‘yn how do start the washer!’ You mock their voices. “it’s kind of a turn off.”

“But that doesn’t stop you from leave and getting some.” Jaemin said. “You would think, but it seems like everyone on campus seems to think we’re in a big poly relationship, thanks to haechan being the alcoholic he is.” You said, remember the party a year ago. “What did I do?” You scoffed. “You got on a table and yelled it in front of half of the campus.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Yeah, so thanks to you 3 cockblockers im reduced to using my fingers as a form of release.” You stood up. “Is this conversation done now, can I go to my room?” You didn’t wait for a answer, you just kept walking. “3 ? What about renjun? Jeno asked. “He knows where the chopsticks are, he also knows how to start the washer and hold his alcohol.” You walked past the boy, smiling. “Good job renjun, for not being the reason im involuntary celibate.”

He watched you walk all the way to your room, closing your door. “Why does she always defend you?” Haechan said, renjun shrugged. “Does she want to fuck you or something?” Jaemin laughed. “More like he wants to fuck her.” Renjun felt his face heating up again, quickly walking back to his room.

“Well no shit look at her, who in this house doesn’t want to fuck her.” Jeno shook his head. “Don’t try and judge me jeno, you were the first one to say you wanted to fuck her.” Jeno stood up, putting his phone away. “Yeah I did, and I still do.” He said. “But I don’t act like a bitchless loser either.” He picked up his gym bag. “Hey! Im not bitchless.” The boy fought back. “Whatever you say, maybe don’t ask her if she’s asexual or training to be a nun and she’ll fuck you.” He left out the house.

“Haechannie.” Jaemin stood up, “Don’t give up, she’ll come around and find something appealing on you." He looked the boy up and down, patting his shoulder in a comforting way. “maybe.” He left leaving the boy to pout in the livingroom.

“Well shit, now im horny.”

There was a knock on your door, you looked up from your show playing on the computer as the door slowly opened, renjun popping his head in. “I just wanted to see if you were still up, and to not let what haechan said bother you, it’s okay if you don’t do that stuff all the time.” He said, you smiled. “Whatever comes out of haechans mouth will never make me upset, he’s harmless.”

He chuckled, “More like demented, but I get it.” You laughed in return, making him smile. “Is that it?” you asked and he nodded. “Yeah, im going to bed, i'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You waved. “Goodnight renjun.”

“Stupid fucking professors.” You dropped your bag on the ground in anger. “Whoa.” Jaemin stood in the kitchen. “What’s wrong with you?” You opened the refrigerator door, grabbing a beer. “Oh you must be stressed, it’s 12 and you’re drinking.” He said. “I am.” You cracked open the can, taking a big gulp of the beer, sighing.

“My professors moved my essay date up until this week, because she won’t be in next week.” You took another sip. “how is it my fault her sister is going into labor, does her sister have incompetent husband.”

Jaemin saw how angrier you were getting with every sip, deciding to intervene. “okay love that’s enough.” He took the can from your hand. “You’re stressed, drinking isn’t gonna solve it.” You sighed, rubbing your temples, leaning over the counter. “I’m gonna drop out.” He laughed, knowing you didn’t mean it. “You’re adorable.”

You glared at him as he stood next to you, the dishes he was doing long forgotten, instead he was staring at you. “Im about to break down and that’s all you have to say, im adorable.” He nodded, you pouted. “Don’t make that face, you’re making it hard for me.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “What do you mean?” You eyes widened as he got closer and closer — pressing you against the counter. “It’s hard to not want to not stick my hand in these sweats of yours and help you distress — I hate seeing you all stressed.” He was extremely close, his nose brushing against yours gently.

“Jaemin.” You sighed, grabbing his bicep. “We ca— you’re stressed aren’t you baby?” He said, you nodded. “This is what I do when im stressed, I get off and I know your little fingers won’t pleasure you enough.” He said. “I didn’t want to say anything yesterday cause I didn’t want to get haechan started, but I hear you sometimes, when you’re touching yourself.”

eyes widened in horror — you couldn’t believe he heard you. “Oh my god.” You whined. “This is so embarrassing.” You covered your face, but he quickly removed your hands. “Don’t be, those pretty gasp and whines coming from your room are like music.” He said. “But I know it’s not enough is it?” His fingers danced along your waistband. “Not enough to make you satisfied?”

You moaned softly, he smirked. “Listen to you baby, I know you want it, just let me help you distress.” He said, pulling at the waistband letting it snap at your waist. “When im done we don’t even have to talk about it.” He said, but you could hear the condescending tone in his voice. “But you might want more.”

You thought about it, what’s the worst that could happen, it will be awkward for a few days then you’ll go back to being normal — you could do that definitely – you once avoided renjun when you walked on him in the shower, and then you went right back to talking to him like nothing happen, and he let it go like nothing happened. “Princess don’t think too hard, hurt that pretty little head.”

You sighed — his hands waiting at your waistband waiting for you to give him the go. “And it won’t be awkward?” He nodded. “We won’t speak of it if you want” He reassured, kissing your forehead. “I just want to help you.” He whispered. “Just wanna make you cum.” That did it for you, you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand into your sweats. “Please touch me.”

He smiled, cupping your clothed heats. “Sh-shit.” You moaned out. “You’re soaked through your panties pretty.” He toyed with your folds through your underwear. “Ja-jaemin.” You sighed, he smiled. “N-no teasing.” You whined, he chuckled. “Okay baby I won’t, I wont.” He said moving your panties to the side, running a finger across your folds. “So wet baby, your pussy is so desperate for me to touch her.”

He pressed a finger at your hole, slowly sinking it in. “Jaemin-” You moaned as his thick finger stretched you out. “Such a tight pussy, poor baby hasn’t had anybody touch her like this in a while has she?” You moaned, shaking your head. “You want another.”

“y-yes.” You moaned as he added another finger, stretching your cunt out more. “Sh-shit your fingers are amazing.” He smirked. “Yeah?” He asked, moving his fingers in and out of your hole. “My fingers stretching your pretty pussy good?” You nodded, moaning out as his used the pad of his thumb to rub your clit. “Fu-fuck im gonna cum.”

“Go a head, you deserve it princess, cum on my fingers.” He fucked his fingers into your hole faster. “Cum for me.” He said and on his command you came all over his fingers. “Fuck!” You sighed as he stroked your clit with his thumb as you came down from your high. “Jae.” You gasped, grabbing his wrist, stopping him. “I-I came.”

He chuckled stopping his movements. “You’re evil.” You breathed, he laughed. “But it was fun watching you struggle, and you feel better don’t you?” You nodded, “I do, thank you.”

You both were bought back to reality by a cough. “Want to come back to earth, you’re in the kitchen.” Jeno said, looking at the scene in front of him. “With your hands stuffed in her sweats.” He held his bag in his hand. “Right.” He took his hand out from your pants. Your face was heated with embarrassment of being caught — jaemin on the other hand couldn’t care less. “Thanks to someone I have something take care of.”

Your eye widened — jeno scoffing in amusement as you both watched jaemin brought his hand covered in your juices to his mouth, sucking on them, humming as he exited into his room to do the obvious.

You and jeno stood in a silence — a awkward one before spoke up. “I’m sorry you had to walk in on that.” You stood on the balls of your feet, looking down. “We all need to distress sometimes, next time it should be in your room though, haechan could’ve walked in and that would’ve been— tragic.” You said and he nodded. “also please don’t tell him, I don’t want it to be awkward, renjun either.” He gave you a salute.

“My lips are sealed.” He said, you nodded. “I owe you big time, thank you so much.” You said. “I'm gonna go, see you after your class.” You scurried away to your room, his eyes followed you the entire time.

“Shit.” He sighed to himself, how was he supposed to focus in class with the scene of you moaning while his friend fingered you in his head; and his cock hard against his jeans.

Luckily a few days past and the kitchen incident was never brought up, it was kept a secret between you, jaemin and jeno — like it never happened, well expect when it happened again when everyone wasn’t home again, or when jaemin would look at you with fuck me eyes that made you flustered, but no one even noticed — at least that’s what you thought.

“I know it’s in here.” You rummaged through his dirty clothes hamper — any other time that would’ve gross you out, going through a grown mans laundry, but your favorite black bra, was in there and you needed to wash it, you were going out on Saturday and you needed it — it made your tits look the best.

“Excuse me.” A voice made you jump turning around. “Shit jeno.” You sighed, calming down. “You scared me.” He lifted his eyebrows in confusion. “I scared you?” He said. “You’re in my room, going through my dirty laundry and I scared you?” He laughed amused.

“Your laundry?” You said, standing fully up. “I thought this was jaemins, it was near his beds.” You said. “Because his bed is closer to the door where I had it because I was gonna wash them later.” He pointed to the closet. “his is in the closet.” You wanted to shrivel up and die. “I'm so sorry.” You quickly put the stuff that fell out, putting it back by the door.

“It’s okay.” He said, sitting his gym bag down. You opened the closet, where his hamper was. “Oh.” You bent down going through, huffing once you realized it wasn’t I there either. “I has to be in here.” You whined.

Jeno couldn’t help it — he is only a man, and you were wearing those shorts that made your ass look so good, he couldn’t help but stare, his cock hardening in his gym shorts. “how was the gym?” You asked as you went through the hamper. “Good.” You didn’t hear the subtle change in his voice.

He was slowly losing it, the way you kept having a conversation with him, with your ass basically in his face, if he looked hard — which he already was, but if he looked harder, he could see the outline of your pussy — you weren’t wearing any panties.

“Fuck.” He cursed, finally snapping. “You have to be doing this on purpose.” He said darkly. “huh?” You turned to him confused. “I mean what you’re looking for can’t be in there, the hamper isn’t that big and you reached the bottom already.” He said. “So you have to know what you’re doing.”

“Do-doing what?” You said , slowing backing up as he stalked you, his eyes low and full of lust. “showing that ass of yours off.” He backed you up against the wall. “I can see your pussy through these shorts.” You bit your lip. “I-im sorry.” You looked up at him your lashes.

He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “If I let you go this time will you owe me?” he smirked. “You still owe me for not telling haechan and renjun about you and jaemin.” He said. “should I tell him then? What about when you both did it again on the couch?” How did he know about that. “how did you- you might want to keep it under wraps, but jaemin loves to talk.” He said, his hands squeezing your waist — you whimpered.

“You know I was pretty pissed, finding both of you in that kitchen?” he said. “and when jaemin told me again I was livid.” He pressed his sweaty body against yours, his musky smell from the gym radiating off of him, it was your favorite smell on him. “Wh-why?” You stuttered, he smirked. “Because I wanted to be the one to taste that pussy first.”

You felt his words in your cunt, this was the second time one of your roommates was pressing you against a surface, confessing a dirty thoughts that they had of you. “You’re so hard.” You felt his hard on against your pelvis, twitching in shorts. “Yeah I am, cause of you baby, you gonna help me?”

You weren’t gonna pass this up — you weren’t dumb. “Yeah.” You said , he quickly grabbed your shorts, pushing them down to your ankles. “No panties baby, you’re really looking to be fucked like a whore.” He tapped your thighs. “Jump.”

He grabbed both of your thighs , his cock was now sitting under your ass. “gonna stretch this pussy out.” He held your body in one arm, quickly undoing his shorts letting them fall to the ground. “Je-jeno please fuck me.” Your voice was whiny, your fingers locked around his neck.

He lifted you up, grabbing the base of his cock holding it as he sunk you down on it. “Sh-shit you’re so fucking tight.” He groaned. “So tiny , you’re pussy is struggling to take me.” You moaned, closing your eyes as he slowly sunk deeper and deeper into your wet cunt. “Of fuck! You’re so big.”

He finally bottomed out, his hand against the wall above your head as he calmed himself down. “Fu-fuck this pussy is gonna make me cum early.” He slowly began to move, his cock hitting all the right spots as he held you against the wall. “Oh my god.” You gasped.

He began to move faster, your head knocked against the wall. “fuck!” you screamed. “Baby, these walls are thin and anyone could walk into the apartment and hear you getting your pussy fucked open by me, unless you want haechan and renjun to know how much a whore you are, cause im pretty sure jaemin already knows, then I suggest you try and shut that pretty mouth of yours.”

His words made you clench around him. “Fu-fuck baby let up, or im gonna cum inside your pussy.” He groaned. “unless that’s what you want.” You moaned out, yanking at hair on his neck. “Pl-please.” You whimpered.

“Fu-fuck you want me to cum inside you?” he grunted, his hips snapped harder against you. “Breed this little cunt up.” He hummed, biting at your neck. “yes!” You screamed. “please cum inside me.” He groaned, his pelvis hitting your clit, along with his cocked continuously hitting your cervix. “Fuck im gonna cum.”

Before you could even warn him again, you came, he felt your cunt spasm around him. “Sh-shit.” He groaned, looking down where your bodies connected a white ring formed around his cock base. “Oh fuck, your pussy is magic -fuck- im gonna cum.” He moaned. “Fuck im cumming , im gonna cum.” He groaned, then you felt his cum leaking into your womb.

“Shit.” He sighed. “Hold on.” He held you in his arms, sitting down with you in his lap, his cock still inside you. “im gonna pull out now.” You nodded , and his lifted you up, his soft cock slipping out of you. “That felt good.” You said. “Yeah?” He said, you nodded. “I need to shower now.” You got up, he held your arm. “You got it?”

You nodded, legs a little wobbly. “Do you need help?” He asked, your turned to him. “Are you really gonna help or do you want to have shower sex?” He smiled cheekily. “will you let me fuck you if I help you shower after?” You shook your head. “Fine.”

“Wait what were you even looking for?” He asked, taking his shirt off, throwing it in the hamper. “My black bra, im going out on Saturday and I need it.” You said. “The one that makes your tits look good.” You gave him a side eye. “Don’t look at me, of course I look at your tits.” He said, looking down. “Here it is.” He held it in his hand, throwing it in his hamper. “I'll wash it for you.”

“I better get my bra back lee jeno.”

You sat at your desk, finishing up the essay that stressed you out earlier in the week. “finally.” You finally hit the send button. “I hope your sisters husband has a horrible day, cause why are you going on maternity leave for her baby.” You pushed your glasses against your face. “Hey.” Jaemin knocked on the door. “Next time you fuck jeno, don’t leave your shorts in the room.” He tossed them on your bed.

“Thanks.” You said, it almost didn’t phase you showing him the computer. “Look I finished the essay.” You said. “From the other day?” he asked, you shook your head. “I guess my fingers really did wonders didn’t it.” You rolled your eyes. “get out of my room jaemin.” He smirked. “Im just saying , these fingers are magical, look how fast you finished that essay.” You picked up the plushie haechan gave you for your birthday about to chuck it at him, but he quickly shut the door.

“Dumbass.” You turned back to your computer, going over your syllabus for the upcoming week. Your door slowly creaked open, you thought it was jaemin, so you picked the toy up, your arm up ready to throw it. “Stop fucking around jaemin.” You threw the toy. “Jaemin?” you swiveled around in the chair, facing the person. “Was he just in here or something? Why are you calling me jaemin?”

“Oh shit haechan my bad, jaemin came to return something to me , and he was fucking around so I had to kick him out my room.” You quickly explained , he walked into your room, you noticed him stumble a bit — he was drunk. “I thought he was fucking around at my door.”

He hummed sitting on your bed, the toy in his hand, his cheeks a dusty red from the alcohol. “Did you have fun with mark and Johnny tonight?” he nodded, you hated when he was quiet, it seemed uncanny. “I did, but it was ruined.” He said. “Ruined?” you questioned. “How was it ruined?”

“I figured out I must be the problem.” He said. “What do you mean hyuck?” You turned in your chair facing him. “I might bit be as witty as jaemin or as strong as jeno or even as smart as renjun, but I thought I at least had some good qualities.” He said, picking at the hair of the toy.

“donghyuck what are you ta– oh.” It finally it you. “Shit, how did you find out?” You said. “I heard jaemin talking about it when I walked into the house.” He said, finally looking at you. “Are you upset?” He scoffed, smiling to himself. “Did you fuck renjun?” You looked at him weird. “no.”

“Good, I refuse to lose to renjun.” He said. “Why are you in a one sided competition with renjun, he hardly comes out of his room?” You said. “Because you don’t see it, but I do, I am man, I saw that jeno and jaemin wanted to fuck you and look what happened.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re deranged, renjun doesn’t want to fuck me.”

“well im not missing my chance and letting him win.” He said, sinking to his knees. “W-what are you doing?” You asked , as he crawled to you. “What does it look like?” He tapped your legs. “Im gonna eat you out.”

He pulled your legs apart, you were only in a oversized shirt, and some underwear. “H-haechan.” You covered your clothed heat. You’re drunk.” He scoffed. “I'm fully aware about what I want, and what I want is to eat your pussy.”

He moved your hand. “Fuck, you smell so good.” He inhaled. “Can’t wait to eat you out.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “hyuck, you’re drunk, you need to sleep.” You said, but he wasn’t listen. “Please, I really want to.” He looked up you, a look in his eyes. “Please.”

He kissed at your thighs. “See I am fully aware.” He kissed your clothed cunt, you sighed, your hands flying to his hair. “You taste so good.” He said licking your folds. “Let me take your panties off and get a full taste.” He said, his voice sounded so breathy, almost like a whimper — it turned you on even more. “that’s all I want, you don’t have to do anything in return.”

“Fu-fuck okay.” You moaned, he smiled kissing your thighs once again. “thank you.” He quickly grabbed the waistband of your panties, you lifted your hips — holding on to the arms of the chair as the air from your aircon hit your cunt. “So pretty.” He said, dipping his head back into your thighs.

“Fuck , such a pretty pussy.” He licked your now exposed folds. “sh-shit haechan.” He sloppily made out with your cunt. “it feels so good, doing so good.” Your praise went straight to his cock, his cock twitched against his pants, he hummed against your cunt. “fu-fucking good boy.”

You tugged at his hair with one hand, holding the arm of the chair, pushing him deeper and deeper into your cunt. “Hyuck, fuck!” You yelped. “Fuck im gonna cum.” He pulled away, his lips and bottom lip covered in your juices — his eyes completely blown. “Please cum.” His fingers strung at your clit, he looked up at you. “I want you to cum in my mouth.” He said. “Please I want it.”

“Fuck im cumming.” He put his mouth back on your cunt, your legs tightened around his head, cumming — haechan catching all of it, getting even more intoxicated. “Haechan.” You whined as he cleaned up his mess, pulling away. “Did I do good?”

You ran your hand through his messy hair. “yes, you did.” He smiley like a fool. “You like being called good boy" You smirked. “Are you- are you a sub.” He pinched your thigh, you hissed, tugging at his hair. “im not a sub.” He said. “Just being called good boy by you turns me on.”

“So it’s just me?” You smirked, he could hear the condescending tone. “If you tell anybody then I’ll deny.” He said. “Too bad the entire fucking apartment heard it, keep it down.” Jeno stood in the door. “and I still got to fuck her first.” He closed the door. “now you have to let me fuck you.”

“Haechan get the fuck out my room.”

“You are right.” Jaemin ogled your bust. “Huh?” You said sitting in the front seat of the car, renjun driving since he was the only sensible one. “Your tits do look good in that bra.” Renjun looked at the boy through the mirror — he wasn’t dumb, he knew what was going on, he seen the changes happening, the sexual tension that was constantly lingering in air when you were around — it kind of made him jealous.

Renjun had always thought you were pretty , he was newer to the apartment, but he was constantly nervous whenever he tried to talk to you — often opting to stay to himself in his room. “Stop looking at my tits jaemin.” You said, turning around where the three boys were. “be on your best behaviors, no getting sloppy drunk, im not dragging you home.” You said, but they weren’t paying attention, you shook head turning around.

“My tits seem more important.” You said to yourself — renjun slammed on the breaks, quickly putting his arm out to stop you from hitting your head on the dashboard, the guys in the back not so much. “Shit im sorry I thought I saw a cat in road.” Renjun said, as the guys in the back moaned and groaned in pain.

You turned to him, where he was smiling to himself. “We’re here anyway.” You said, as he parked the car. “Go drink it off, not too much though.” You said, climbing out the car. “I swear he did that on purpose.” You heard haechan mumble as you all walked into the bar where your other friends waited. “Thank you.” You turned to renjun. “F-for what.” He smiled, you laughed. “Don’t mention it.” He followed behind the guys where Johnny and mark were.

“What!?” Your friends looked at you with jaws dropped. “All of them?” jinhae asked. “well not renjun.” you said taking your sip of your drink. “but yes.” You said. “And they all know about it?” You nodded. “I mean they’ve all seemly walked in or found out in someway.” You said. “And they’re okay with that?”

“Do they really have a choice, im not really looking for a relationship and they can easily stop if they want, im not going to them for it.” You shrugged. “Wow you lucky bitch.” Dayhun said. “We can barely find a guy who can find the clit, and here you are getting good dick by 3 guys who actually want to fuck you.” You turned to where they were, all of them looking directly at you. “Hi.” Haechan waved beaming, jeno slapping the back of his head. You turned around laughing at them.

“Are you a loser?” Jeno slapped the back of the boys head. “Stop waving.” The boy rubbed the back of his head. “Will you guys stop hitting me, i am in pain!” He shrieked, Johnny and mark caught on to the tension. “What the fuck is going on with you guys?” Johnny said. “There’s this air around all of you guys, and I can’t tell if it’s hostility or- it’s sexual hostility.” Renjun spoke up.

“Sexual hostility?” Mark questioned. “Why?” Renjun got up to get himself another drink while they explained to the two boys. “Hey.” You stood at the bar. “Hey.” He smiled, ordering his drink. “Are they drunk yet?” You asked. “Not yet give it another 20 minutes, we’ll be dragging them out of the bar.” You shook your head. “Great.” You said, the bartender returning with both of your drinks. “here for her drink too.”

“Thank you, you didn’t have to.” he held his hand up. “I wanted to, go have fun with your friends.” He said, turning to make his way back to the boys. “What were you guys talking about?” jaemin asked. “nothing I just bought her a drink.”

“what?” Johnny smirked. “You fucked her too, lucky bastard.” Renjun rolled his eye. “No im not fucking her.” He said. “you mean they’re all fucking her, but not you.” Mark said with wide eyes. “Like is this voluntary or does she find something wrong with you?” Renjun cursed at the boys as they busted out into laughter. “I’m leaving all of you here watch, you bastards I hope you all get an std and won’t be able to have sex at all.”

And of course you had to end up dragging haechan out of the bar — jaemin and jeno dragging their bodies behind, stumbling. “Stupid fuckers who can’t hold your drinks.” Renjun held the door open as you dropped Haechans body in the back seat, letting them all crawl into the back. “Thank you love.” Haechan slurred, you shut the door climbing into the passengers seat— renjun into the drivers.

The ride home was nothing the sorts of good, jeno and jaemin arguing drunkenly about random shit, and haechan dry heaving complaining about having to throw up. “junie think you can speed up this car, before I take the wheel and crash it.” He nodded, pressing on the gas.

You guys finally got back to the apartment, renjun dragging haechan by his collar. “Be more gentle, im sick.” He whined. “And who’s fault is that, renjun opened the door to haechans room, pushing him inside closing the door.

“Hey yn, come.” Jaemin slurred. “Let’s go in your room.” He smirked. “If think you’re getting fucked tonight think again.” You took his hand off your shoulder. “go to sleep and sober up.” You said, he pouted. “Jeno, lets cuddle.” You shook your head, watching jeno push at the boy. “No you have a boner, im not cuddling with you like that.” He said , you closed the door huffing. “see why I don’t go out with them often?”

Renjun stood up against the wall. “This will be last time I go out with them two.” You said, walking into the kitchen, renjun followed behind. “Here.” You reached into the fridge pulling out two beers. “For your help in getting them to bed.”

He took the can from you, you opened yours taking a sip. “I think staying home is way better anyway, my feet are killing me and this bra is uncomfortable.” You bent over taking your shoes off, giving renjun a perfect shot of your boobs. He took a sip of his drink, trying to look away.

“Don’t wear things that make you uncomfortable.” He said, you smiled. “look at you being all caring, this is the most you’ve said to me in a week, I was certain you hated me.” You walked into the living room sitting down on the couch. “I don’ hate you.” He said.

“Could’ve fooled me.” You said. “I don’t really, Im just nervous.” He said, you cocked your head to the side. “Nervous?” You questioned. “why are you nervous?” He said too much , he sat the beer down. “Maybe the drinks from the bar and that beer is too much.” He felt the heat rising to his face. “Im talking too much.”

You chuckled, he smiled before chuckling too. “No tell me why are you nervous?” You said, putting your hand on his thigh — he knew you meant it in a comforting way, but his cock clearly didn’t get the memo, twitching against his jeans. “W-well because you’re you.”

“Im me?” You questioned, he nodded. “You’re pretty and smart and you don’t care about what people think and you're hot.” He covered his mouth, he swears he’ll never drink around you again. “fuck im an idiot.” He said. “No it’s cute, you’re cute.”

You hissed again, the pain in your shoulder increasing. “it’s time to give this bra up.” You sighed, rubbing your shoulder. “Let me." He said. “Oh you don’t have to, once I go to my room it will be off.” You said, but he stopped you. “im good at these things, trust me.” He said. “fine.”

You turned around, your back was facing him. He moved your hair to the side, bringing his hands to your tender shoulders, rubbing — you sighed as he magically worked on your shoulders. “Fuck that feels good.” You whispered.

He was bit his lip, but you sounded so pretty, your moans going straight to his cock. “You have like magic fingers or something.” He hummed, sliding your bra down your shoulder, your neck fully on display — ready to be kissed.

“You feel better?” He said you nodded. “You’re a god send.” You said, his hands lingered on your neck. “Renjun.” You were about to turn around and question him, when you felt his lips against your neck. “Im sorry.” He whispered. “I just don’t think I can handle myself anymore.” he left little kisses along your shoulder blades, nipping lightly making you shiver. You turned around, slamming your lips against his.

You climbed into his lap, unbuttoning his shirt — reaching behind undoing your bra. “fuck you’re so pretty.” He groaned, you sat directly on his cock. “m'so hard right now.” He groaned, you grinded against him. “fuck, please don’t tease me.”

You got up, he undid his pants lifting his hips up, leaving them at his ankles. You lift under your skirt, pulling your panties down, climbing back into his lap, you grabbed the base of his cock, sinking down on it. “shit.” He sighed as you sat down fully on his cock. “Fuck you’re so tight.” You moaned out, holding his shoulders for support.

“Y-you’re so big.” He groaned. “Fu-fuck yn, please move.” You began to move your hips, up and down on his cock — he held your hips, guiding you. “your cunt feels so good.” He groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure, he felt like he was in heaven, the way your cunt fluttered around him, squeezing his cock beautifully. “Oh fuck -fuck- im gonna cum.” He groaned. “Im not wearing a condom, get up, im gonna cum.”

But you don’t listen, you keep riding him. “Fuck, yn please.” He groaned, trying to hold off. You tug at his hair, whispering in his ear. “Fuck, please just cum.” You moaned. “Please im gonna cum.” He cursed, fuck you were killing him. “Fuck!” He groaned, shooting his load into your cunt, triggering your own orgasm. “Sh-shit renjun!”

Your legs trembled as you rode out your high. “god your beautiful.” He pulled you into a kiss — out of all of them he was the only one to kiss you.

You both later went to bed, and you didn’t wake up until the next morning when you heard them fussing in the kitchen, you groaning as you stomped into the kitchen. “What the fuck is going on?” You yelled. “Where is the coffee? I need coffee.” Haechan groaned.

“And that’s why you’re raging early in the damn morning.” You opened the cabinet, slamming it. “Why so loud?” Jaemin rubbing his temples. “Im pissed.” You sat down at the table. “Why did renjun not make you cum?” You eyes shot open. “Are you people just waiting by for the next time I fuck one of you?” You said.

“I did make her cum.” Renjun walked out of the room, his bag on his back — seemingly the only one with his life together. “You could’ve too had you not been drunk out of your mind.” He said, jeno and jaemin snickered on the side.

“I want to smack that smirk off his face.” Haechan grumbled, as renjun walked out of the apartment satisfied. “Don’t get all pouty, you’re still my good boy.” You teased. “Yah, I said don’t talk about that outside of the bedroom.” He said. “Wait does that mean I was the best?”

“Yn don’t answer that.” Jeno said, jaemin agreed. “please don’t.” You turned to the other boy who was waiting. “Answer it , I can take it.” He said. “You can’t bitch about it.” Jaemin scoffed. “He’s gonna do that anyway.”

“Just answer it.” He said, “no you weren’t the best at fucking me.” He frowned. “We told you.” Jeno said. “Are you serious? How could you be so cruel and say that?” He whined. “Be calm.” You said. “You didn’t even let me finish.” He flagged you off. “I don’t want to hear it.” He said.

“Was it jaemin?” Jeno asked. “No.” Jaemin didn’t seem so surprised. “I guess I gotta keep trying.” He said. “That’s the spirit.”

“Then who is it?” Haechan spoke up. “renjun or jeno?” he questioned. “if you say renjun im gonna kill myself.” You shook your head. “well if would’ve let me finish, you would’ve known that you and jaemin weren’t even in the race.” You said. “Why, are you that biased?” He argued.

“No dumbass because you two didn’t actually fuck me.”

©️LUVYENI

3K notes · View notes

scuderiahoney · 2 months

Text

Pick You Up

Max Verstappen x reader

Masterlist

Summary: when Max has one too many gin & tonics, you’re the one who picks (him) up, every time he calls. Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: alcohol, intoxication, maybe an unhealthy relationship with alcohol??, mentions of Max’s shitty childhood, incorrect taylor swift lyrics

It’s 1am, and your phone is buzzing on the nightstand. You groan and shove your face into the pillow. You were having such a nice dream. Something about an island and a very attractive man. You let the phone ring until it stops, and then you hold your breath. Maybe it was a butt dial. Maybe it’s not what you think.

The buzzing starts again, and you blindly slam your hand onto the nightstand, grabbing for it. You swipe to answer without even looking at the contact. You already know who it is. Or at the very least, who they’re calling you about. It’s never anyone else.

“Max needs a ride,” a friend of his says.

You’re already rolling out of bed. “Yeah. Where?”

You could complain, you suppose, as you pull on a pair of sweatpants and a jacket. You could ask them to find literally anyone else, or beg them to have a designated driver for once, but instead you just slip your shoes on. You rub the sleep from your eyes and grab a Red Bull on the way out the door. Someone sends you an address from a number you don’t even have saved in your phone. Worry claws at your chest.

The truth is, you’ll never complain about Max calling you in the middle of the night, because if he stopped calling you’d worry about who he was relying on. Max is… popular. He’s got a lot of people trying to ride his coattails. He gets invited to events and people buy him drinks and offer him things and then it’s 1am and he’s too drunk to get home on his own. And then he calls you. Or, more often, someone calls you for him.

You pull up in front of the club, and Max is already outside, stumbling on clumsy feet. He lurches towards your car when he sees it, which is a relief, because you hadn’t exactly wanted to get out of the car. You find yourself resenting whoever he was out with for leaving him all alone, but he opens the door and climbs in and you plaster a smile onto your face.

“Hi, schatje,” he slurs, and you muffle a laugh into your shoulder.

“Hi, Maxie,” you say.

This is the only time he calls you things like that. It’s also the only time you can call him Maxie without earning yourself a warning glare, or worse, an elbow to the rib cage. You’ve known him for years, and yet it’s only when he’s wasted that he doesn’t mind the nickname.

“Seatbelt,” you remind him.

He nods and tugs at the belt. You end up having to help him buckle- that happens about 70% of the time. His fingers fumble with the latch as you do so, and he lets out a little huff when you brush his hand away. Once he’s all set, you pat his shoulder lightly and lean back into your seat.

“I’m drunk,” he warns you.

“I know,” you answer.

“So no crazy driving. I don’t want to be sick in your very nice car.”

You laugh and cock your head at him. “This morning you called this car a shitbox.”

He nods. “It is. But it is your shitbox.”

You laugh again, putting the car into drive. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

He rambles the whole drive to his apartment, about all the people he was out with tonight and what they did and who they did. Drunk Max is a bit of a gossip, and his gossiping to you won’t get him in trouble, so he takes full advantage of it. You listen eagerly the entire time, though you keep your eyes focused on the road. He’s not the most drunk you’ve ever seen him, still too drunk to be in a cab or an Uber by himself but coherent enough that the journey up to his apartment shouldn’t be too difficult. You park your car in his parking lot and climb out.

Max is halfway out of his seat when you come around to meet him. You take his hand and help him the rest of the way up. He stumbles a bit, laughing as you catch him. Then he throws his arm around your shoulder and follows you to the elevator.

His head bumps into yours in the process. You lean into the weight of him, the two of you standing like a badly built lean to. If one of you topples, the other will too. You try not to think about that too much.

You stay the night, the way you always do when this happens. Because the only thing a hungover Max hates more than the sunlight is waking up to an empty apartment. You’ll be there in the morning to take care of him. He’ll promise he won’t do it again.

By this time next week, he’ll be out at a club, and you’ll have the volume on your phone turned up.

…..

The next time someone calls you on Max’s behalf, it’s someone you actually know. It’s 2am this time, and your eyes are closed. You’re drifting in that space between consciousness and dreams. Your ringtone almost becomes a part of a half dream before you realize what it is. You turn the phone over. NoRizzz, it reads. You think Max added the contact for you.

You answer. “Hi, Lando. S’it Max?” You ask.

“I swear to god I lost track of him for one second-“ Lando rushes out.

You pause halfway out of bed, feeling a jolt of worry at the frantic tone in his voice. “Lando?”

“He’s gone, he-“ He sounds panicked. “I turned around and he’s-“

“Did you call him?”

“Of course I called him-“ Lando scoffs. “Look, I wouldn’t be so worried if I hadn’t already been thinking about having you pick him up-“

“Hey, hey, slow down,” you say, though your heart is racing as you head for the door. “Where are you? How long has it been since you lost him?”

“We’re at Jimmyz, it’s been a half hour,” Lando admits. “I didn’t want to bother you, but-“

A half hour is a long time for Max. He could be anywhere in the city right now. He could’ve walked, or taken a cab, or… anything. Sober Max is great at self preservation. Drunk Max is easily persuaded. You’ve used it to your advantage more than you’d like to admit. Not in any bad way, just- Max, sing karaoke with me! Max, come dance with me! Max, we should order pizza!

You head for the front door. “Okay. It’s okay. I’ll come meet you, and then-“

You swing the door open and nearly scream when something heavy tumbles into your apartment. Someone, actually, upon further inspection. It’s Max, lit only by the dim hallway light and a beam from the kitchen light that you always leave on. He’s blinking up at you from the floor, a soft smile on his face. He has his arms wrapped around himself, like he’s cold. His skin is damp with sweat.

“Never mind, I found him,” you say into the phone.

“What? How?” Lando asks, bewildered.

“He was sitting in front of my door,” you answer as you crouch down. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, and Max smiles. “Must’ve taken a cab or something.”

“I walked,” Max admits.

That explains the sweat. That also tells you that Lando has lied to you- Max has been gone much longer than a half hour if he’s made his way here on foot. You choose not to call the other driver out on it, though. You want them to call you about things like this. If you chew him out, Lando will be less likely to do so.

“So he’s okay?” Lando asks.

“He’s fine,” you assure him. “I’ll talk to you later.”

You hang up and then start working on getting Max all the way into the apartment. He’s not much help. You manage to get his legs inside and then you close the door behind him. You’ll work on getting him out of the hallway next. For now, you sit down on the floor next to him.

“You walked here?” You ask.

He nods. “Missed you.”

You snort out a laugh. “You could’ve called me, I would’ve picked you up.”

He shrugs and shuts his eyes. “Didn’t want to bug you.”

“So you camped out in front of my door,” you say.

“Yes. But then you didn’t have to come pick me up.”

“I’ll always pick you up,” you say, brushing your thumb against his temple. “That’s what friends do.”

When he opens his eyes, they’re glassy. Your breath hitches. Max doesn’t get teary often, doesn’t get emotional often. Something aches in your chest. You rub your thumb over his cheekbone. He blinks once, twice, lashes tangled together.

“You okay?” You ask.

“Yeah.” He sounds so small when he says it. “Just. Thanks.”

There are these small moments, when Max shows a vulnerable side. These are the moments you think of when people spread vitriol towards him on the internet and ask how you could possibly be friends with him. They make you love him even more, and they make you resent the adults who were around him when he was growing up.

You’ve seen pictures of little Max, shown to you with funny anecdotes and teasing smiles. But when you look at them, and when you see him like this, you can’t find any of it funny. All you can think of is the other stories you’ve heard about his childhood. All you can wonder is how someone could’ve done those things to him. And then you wonder how despite it all, he ended up with such a kind soul.

Max is the one who brings you soup when you’re sick. He brings you trinkets from every country he goes to- the magnets fill the door of your fridge. Max sends you pictures of dogs he meets on the street even though he’s a cat person. He flies you out to races when you’ve had a bad week and buys you good pasta and better tequila. Max has a heart the size of a whole continent. People keep trying to chip away at it. You hate them for it.

So you take a moment to brush the tears from his cheeks. You don’t ask him why he’s crying, or tell him it’ll be okay. You just sit there on the floor with him in your hallway and wait for him to be ready.

Eventually, you get him up off the floor and drag him into your bedroom. It’ll be better for everyone involved if he gets a good night’s sleep in a real bed. You try to leave the room, but he grabs onto your wrist.

“Stay?” He asks, eyelids barely open.

You hum and brush the hair from his forehead. “Are you sure?”

“M’sure,” he says. “Don’t wanna be alone.”

You nod in understanding. You don’t even bother pointing out that he’s on your side of the bed. He’s too far gone to get him to roll over. You just climb over him and pull the blankets back and then tuck yourself in. You keep a respectable distance from him.

You know in the morning you’ll wake up to his arm around your middle and his face buried in your neck. You know because it happens every time you share a bed. Max will act like there’s nothing weird about it, will thank you for taking care of him, and be on his way before lunchtime.

You’ll crawl back into bed and curl up on your side, unsure of if you love or hate the fact that the sheets still smell like him.

…..

Charles calls you from Qatar.

You answer. “Charles, I cannot pick him up. I’m in another country.”

“Yes, I’ve told him that about a billion times,” Charles says. “He is very stubborn, you know.”

Something dawns on you as you sit up against your headboard. For some reason, you’ve always assumed that other people are the ones choosing to call you. That even when it’s someone who doesn’t know you, they’re getting your information from the emergency contact info in his phone. But this… Charles seems to be suggesting that Max has asked him to call you.

“Is he okay?” You ask.

Charles laughs. “He’s fine. He is a world champion, again. You know.”

You do know. You called and congratulated him right after the race. You can still hear the shake in his voice, the yelling of his team behind him. It’d made your heart ache, made you sad you weren’t there with him.

“Yeah,” you say. “You both still have to drive tomorrow, you know.”

“I do know, which is why I’m hoping you can help me,” Charles says. “We’re in his hotel room. His phone is dead, I guess? He came to use mine, so I brought him back here. He’s lost his charger.”

“There’s a spare one in his backpack,” you tell Charles. “In the small pocket.”

You hear the zipper and Charles’ amused laugh. “Did you pack his bag for him?”

“I helped,” you admit. “Let me talk to him and I’ll see if I can talk him down?”

Charles makes a noise of agreement. There’s rustling, then a thud. More rustling. You pinch the bridge of your nose.

Then, Max. “Hi.”

“Hi, Max,” you answer. “I thought you were going to take it easy tonight.”

“I am a world champion,” he says, so matter of fact.

In the background, you hear Charles groan.

“Yes, a world champion who still has to do a race tomorrow,” you remind him.

“I know. Can’t believe I got it in the sprint. A sprint I didn’t even win,” he says, laughing lightly. “Let the rookie win the race tomorrow. I’m the champion.”

“I’m going to throttle him,” Charles says, loud enough or close enough for you to hear. “I think in turn one I will run him into the wall.”

“Tell Charles if he hurts one hair on your head I’ll fly to Qatar and throttle him myself,” you tell Max.

Max relays the message. Charles is quiet after that.

“Doesn’t matter how you won it, yeah?” You remind Max. “You still worked just as hard to get there.”

“Yeah,” Max agrees. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You say with a laugh. “Charles has plugged your phone in. Make sure you turn it on and then go to sleep.”

You call his hotel and have electrolyte drinks and breakfast sent up the next morning, along with a bottle of painkillers. He texts you a photo of all of it along with a thank you message. When he wins the race, even hungover, you’re not the least bit surprised.

…..

When Max calls you at 11:00 pm, your first thought is huh. That’s early. You answer on the third ring, already looking for your keys. You wonder who it’ll be this time. A friend you know, or an unknown voice of someone he’s only met tonight.

“Schatje?” Max asks through the speaker.

You nearly drop the phone. “Max?”

“What, you don’t have my number saved?” He asks.

“No, of course I do, s’just- not usually you who ends up calling me, even from your phone.”

You think you hear him sniffle. Something twists in your chest. Before you can scramble to apologize, he’s speaking.

“Yeah. Um.” He sighs. “Huh.”

You can hear it in his voice, in the way the words seem to stick in his throat. Something’s wrong. You climb off the couch, headed for the door. “Tell me where you are, Max.”

He sniffs. “No, it’s uh- I don’t know why I called-“

“Max,” you repeat as you shut the front door behind you. “Where are you?”

He gives in and tells you he’s at some hotel bar. You recognize it and head down the stairs. You keep him on the line even as you start the car, as you pull out onto the road. He’s mumbling something about how he’ll be fine, about how you don’t have to come get him. Both of you know you’re already on the way.

You have to go in this time. For a moment you think about asking who else he’s with, and hanging up and calling them. But you don’t want to lose contact, so you park the car and head inside. You’re in a hoodie and sweatpants, a pair of slippers on your feet. Nobody bats an eye.

You find him in a back hallway, squeezed into a corner. Your heart crumples at the sight of him. You’re sure your face does too. He’s teary and curled in on himself. He looks so small. You love him, you worry for him, you hate this version of him. Not that you could ever really hate him. It’s just that he looks so vulnerable, so unlike himself.

As much as you want to get him out of there, as much as it would probably be the right move, you sit down next to him instead. You wrap an arm around his shoulder and pull him into your side until his head is against yours. You don’t ask him what’s wrong. He’ll tell you eventually. It might take a while- sometimes a few days. You always give him time. For now, you just sit in the hallway with him. You meet him where he’s at.

He tells you later that he suddenly found himself alone in the bar. After days straight of only being alone when he went to sleep, person after person wanting to celebrate his championship, he’d been alone. He hadn’t realized how much he’d felt like he was suffocating until that moment.

“I was one of the people celebrating,” you remind him as he clings to you.

“But you aren’t suffocating me,” he says. “You’re like… clean air.”

He sleeps in your bed that night. You sleep next to him, not even bothering to argue about it. You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breaths and the weight of his hand on your back.

When you wake up in the morning, he pretends he’s fine. You let him.

…..

Drunk Max is an overly honest Max. He’ll tell you anything and everything. So when you’re walking him home one night, his arm over your shoulder, gin on his breath, you’re expecting to learn some things. What you weren’t expecting, however, is for him to lean close, his lips against your ear, and tell you he loves you.

The odd thing is the way he says it. He leans close and tells you he loves you like he’s talking to someone else. He says “hey, you know-“ then he says your name- and then he says, “you know I love her?”

You shove at his side. “Yeah, I love you too, you dummy.”

He shakes his head, bumping his forehead against your temple. “No, I love her.”

Your heart stops at the way he says it. At the meaning he’s insinuating. Your feet fumble under you, but you manage to keep both of you upright.

“Max,” you say in a warning tone. “You’re drunk.”

“Mm,” he hums. “Drunk in love. Love drunk? Like that song she likes- got love drunk-“

He doesn’t realize he’s talking to you. He likely won’t remember this. You cut him off before he breaks into slightly incorrect Taylor Swift lyrics on the sidewalk. “That’s nice, Max. Why don’t you tell her?”

He shrugs. “Can’t.”

He doesn’t elaborate further, and you miss your chance to prod him about it when he trips over a bump in the sidewalk and nearly sends you both flying. After that, you keep your focus on getting him up to his apartment safely. You shove him into the bathroom in his apartment and tell him to brush his teeth. Then you stand in the hallway and press your hands over your face.

Can’t. Why not? Does he mean it? Did he say the wrong name? He won’t remember it tomorrow, you know that. Do you bring it up? Maybe you should just forget about it. He obviously doesn’t want you to know. And even if it is true, and he does have feelings for you, it would never work.

He stumbles out of the bathroom and presses a messy, toothpaste-y kiss to your forehead. That leaves your brain spinning even worse than it was before. You follow him to the bedroom and tuck him in. The cats glare at you as you disturb the blankets.

“You’ll stay, right?” He asks, tugging on your arm. He seems to know who you are now. “Please?”

You sigh and agree, climbing into bed next to him. He sighs happily and rolls towards you. He slings an arm around your waist, and you hold your breath when he presses his cheek to your shoulder.

“Goodnight,” he says, already half asleep.

“Goodnight,” you echo.

You lay awake and stare at the ceiling for at least an hour, trying not to listen to the sound of his soft breaths. Trying not to think about him admitting that he loves you. Trying not to think about him calling himself love drunk. Trying not to think about him at all, which is difficult with him right there.

You wonder if he really meant it. You want him to mean it, you realize. You tilt your head to look at him- you can only see the top of his head and the slow rise and fall of his chest. God, you want him to mean it. There’s no way he does, but you want it so badly your whole body aches with it.

Sassy walks up to the head of the bed and curls up right next to you. You run your fingers over her fur. Finally, then, you’re able to fall asleep.

…..

It’s not often that Max is the one to pick you up from a bar. It’s every once in a blue moon. You’re much more responsible, you plan ahead. You have a ride home, or you don’t get so drunk that you can’t walk, or you plan to stay with a friend who lives closer to wherever you’re going.

It’s not often, but it does happen. Which is how you find yourself in the bar bathroom, phone pressed to your ear, praying he picks up. There’s a good chance he won’t. He’s definitely not sitting around, waiting for you to call like you always are when he goes out. If he doesn’t pick up you’ll have to call someone else, but you won’t even know where to begin.

It’s only when you hear his voice that you realize you’re not sure he’s even in Monaco.

“Hello?” He says. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, just- what country are you in?”

“What?” He asks. You can hear rustling in the background. “Is this some sort of code? Is someone-“

“No, Maxie, I’m fine,” you say. “Where are you?”

“Monaco,” he answers, still sounding unsure. “At home. Where are you?”

“Monaco. A bar bathroom,” you answer. “Any chance you’d come pick me up? My designated driver met a guy.”

“Not a very good designated driver,” he says with a scoff.

“Says the guy who never has one,” you retort.

Max laughs and doesn’t argue. “Send me your location. I’ll come get you.”

Max gets there far too quickly to have been driving at a reasonable speed. He insists that you wait inside rather than meeting him out on the sidewalk, and says he’ll call you when he gets there. The phone rings, so you step outside. You’re thankful once again for his collection of cars and his tinted windows- nobody seems to have realized it’s him. He leans over and opens the door for you, and you climb inside. He already has the heated seat on for you, and he hands you a bottle of water after you sit down.

“Drink,” he says as he pulls away from the curb.

You roll your eyes but do as he says anyways. The city is a blur of lights outside your window, though you know Max isn’t speeding. He always drives carefully with you in the car, no matter how many times you beg him to go fast. You sink lower in the leather seat.

His eyes flicker over to you. “Did you have a good time?”

You shrug. “Yeah, till all my friends ditched me,” you say. “They found guys to hook up with.”

You see Max frown out of the corner of your eye. “And you didn’t? The men in this club must be blind.”

You pick at the hem of your dress. “Maybe I didn’t want to hook up with anyone. Maybe that’s not what I’m looking for.”

“And what are you looking for?” He asks.

He keeps his eyes trained on the road. You turn your head to look at him. You’re at a stoplight, and it paints his face red. You study the slope of his nose, the jut of his jaw. You, you want to say. I’m looking for you. You think of him the last time you picked him up, how he said he loved you. Called himself love drunk. And then you think of when you asked him why he hadn’t told you. Can’t.

So instead, you shrug. Max turns and looks at you, then shrugs in response. You pout, knowing he’s mocking you. His eyes trace over your face, then over the rest of you. You wonder if he’s relying on how drunk you are to make you forget this- hoping you won’t realize or remember him checking you out. He reaches into the backseat and comes back with a large dark hoodie.

“Here,” he says. “You must be cold.”

The light turns green when the sweatshirt is half over your head- you only know because you feel the vehicle lurch into motion. You squeak, and Max laughs and lays a hand on your leg to steady you. His palm is warm against your bare skin.

When you pop your head back out and shove your arms through the sleeves, you expect him to let go. He doesn’t. His hand stays there, a steady presence, the whole ride to his place.

He hasn’t even asked if you want to stay at his apartment- he doesn’t need to, he already knows what your answer would be. Plus, you’re a bit too drunk to really be left on your own. He leads you up to his door, keeping his hand on your lower back to steady your wobbling steps. You’d tried to kick your heels off in the lobby, but Max had insisted you keep them on. You take them off as soon as you walk in his front door, though, sighing in relief. You stumble over to the couch as he sheds his shoes and jacket. By the time he walks into the living room, you’re curled up in the corner, already under a blanket, face pressed against one of his throw pillows. Max clicks his tongue.

“Come on. Up,” he says, tugging at your shoulder. “You should change your clothes and eat something.”

You groan and reach out to wrap your arm around his neck. “I’m comfy. Come cuddle. Comfy.”

He sighs. “We can cuddle. If you change your clothes and eat something.”

The offer leaves you a bit dumbfounded, because Max isn’t much of a cuddler. It’s pretty likely that he’s lying just to appease you, to get you to follow his instructions. So you continue to lay there, trying to pull him in. When you don’t budge, Max huffs, plants his hands on the couch behind you, and straightens up. He does it before you can loosen your grip, so you go with him almost accidentally. He pulls you off the couch and grabs your hips, helping you to stand up.

“There,” he says, as you sigh and lean heavily on him. “Step one. Clothes.”

He leads you to his room, where you eagerly take the opportunity to sit down on his bed. He turns and begins digging through his drawers. You flop back onto the bed. One of the cats paws at your ankles- you don’t bother looking to see which one. Max throws clothing onto your stomach.

“I’ll go make you food,” he says.

It takes you far too long to find the motivation to shed the hoodie and dress and trade them out for whatever clothes Max has left for you. Eventually, though, you do it. He’s given you one of his shirts and a pair of shorts that are definitely yours, likely left behind whenever you stayed over last. You pull the hoodie back over your head and leave the dress on the floor. It’s only when you remember that Max is awful at cooking that you scramble towards the kitchen.

He’s putting perfectly cooked ramen into bowls. Frankly, it’s hard to mess up ramen, but you’re relieved either way. He smiles at the sight of you, and you think about telling him all over again. The last time you were drunk, you said you loved me. I love you too. We should talk about that. Can’t. Your heart stutters in your chest.

“Thanks,” you say, sitting down at the counter.

You never do get the cuddle he promised. You fall asleep there, forehead pressed to the granite, and Max carries you to the guest room and tucks you in. You swear you feel his lips against your forehead as you fall asleep. But that’s probably just a dream.

…..

By the time you’re in Vegas for the Grand Prix, you haven’t been drunk with Max in months. It’s been one or the other, not both. But since you’re there, Max drags you along to every event he gets invited to. You’re two drinks deep by the time Max makes it to the afterparty. He catches up quickly.

You sneak a sip of his gin and tonic and recoil at the taste. He gives you a blank stare in return.

“You’ve never liked it,” he says. “I don’t know why you keep trying.”

You shrug. “Exposure therapy. And my drink’s empty.”

He gives you a look that’s a mixture of what you think is exasperation and fondness. It’s his signature look when he’s dealing with you on nights out.

“We can fix that,” he says, as he reaches for your hand.

He leads you up to the bar, fingers knit with yours. He doesn’t let go like he normally would. It’s not uncommon for him to hold onto you in a crowd, especially when you’re drunk, but this is different. He leans over the bar and gives your order to the bartender, who nods and moves to make the drink. Max keeps his hand in yours. He finally lets go when you get your drinks, and you take a sip while you look up at him.

His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, blue eyes wide, and you’re trying desperately to read his mind. You want him to let you in so badly.

You end up at a table with him and his driver friends, squished in the booth between Max and Charles. You sip your drink and listen to them talk about race strategy and tires and Vegas in general. Max downs his drink, and someone brings him another. You do the same, and he gets them to bring you one too. And the cycle continues.

This means that by the time he turns to you and says, “we should leave now,” you’re pleasantly drunk, and you’d probably do anything he asked, really.

He slips out of the booth and pulls you along with him, ignoring the people who call his name. He has both of your jackets in his arm as he weaves through the crowds, holding onto your hand. It’s nice, to be here with him, to be a part of it instead of sitting and waiting for a phone call to come pick him up.

As the two of you stumble out onto the sidewalk, you tug on the back of his shirt. “Hey. Who are we going to call to come take care of us? We’re both drunk.”

Max turns and laughs, and then he’s quick to steady you when you stumble on the pavement. “We will take care of each other.”

You nod clumsily, leaning into the feeling of his hands on your hips. “Okay. Yeah. Nice.”

Max tugs you close, tucking you under his arm as he starts to walk down the street. “Lovely.”

“Simply lovely,” you say teasingly. “Where are we going?”

“The hotel,” he says. “I am sick of people.”

You deflate a bit at that. You’re not ready to say goodnight, to say goodbye, to be alone. You want to spend more time with him- it’s why you’re here in Vegas. Max seems to sense your change in mood and squeezes your shoulder, craning his head to look down at you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. “Do you want to stay out? We can find another club, I just thought maybe we could order room service, or pizza, and play a game or…”

He trails off as your eyes go wide, the hurt in your chest melting away. He cocks his head.

“I thought you were sick of me, too,” you say, and you bite your lower lip.

Max frowns deeply. The lights behind his head are blurry in your vision. You wonder if you’re just drunk, or if you’re tearing up. The way he swipes his thumb under your eye tells you it’s the latter.

“No,” he says, gently. “Never.”

Your lip wobbles. You shrug. Max seems to understand, and he just squeezes your shoulder again and keeps walking. You try to get your emotions in check. You have to, really, need to be normal about this. He’s just your friend. That’s all he wants to be.

“We could go do karaoke,” he suggests, pointing at a sign down the road.

He’s trying to distract you. It’s working.

You laugh and elbow him. “You’re an awful singer,” you tease.

“Am not!” He says, his tone full of mock offense. “Here, I’ll-“

You’re expecting him to break out into Viva Las Vegas, like he had at the end of the race over the radio. You’re bracing yourself for it, ready to grimace and cover your ears even though he isn’t really that bad of a singer. What he starts singing surprises you, makes you stumble a bit over your own feet.

“Welcome to New York!” He sings, and you stare at him, wide eyed. “They’ve been waiting for me- welcome-“

“Stop, stop,” you laugh, elbowing him as he attracts stares from people passing by. “We’re in Vegas, not New York! And you always get the lyrics wrong-“

“I am very good with lyrics,” he says, shaking his head.

“No, you’re not, you sang the other one wrong, too,” you tease. “You said got love drunk, it’s supposed to be got love struck. Remember, in Monaco?”

He stops in his tracks, his arm still around you, and stares. You stare right back. You frown and tilt your head at him, mirroring his earlier reaction.

“You remember that?” He asks, quietly.

“I was sober, Max,” you answer. “You remember that?”

He nods, lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes are wide, cheeks pink. “I wasn’t sure if it was real, or if I dreamed it. And you never said anything about what I told you, so…”

That’s when you remember the other part of that conversation, all those nights ago. I love her. Why don’t you tell her? Can’t. You swallow tightly, hands hanging at your sides.

“You didn’t seem to know you were talking to me,” you explain. “So I figured it wasn’t something you really wanted me to know.”

Max blinks, then nods. “I didn’t. Because you don’t feel the same.”

Your stomach twists violently, and your chest follows suit. “I never said that.”

His stare is so intense you feel like you’re seconds away from bursting into flame. “But if you did, you would’ve said something after that night.”

You shake your head. “I asked why you didn’t just tell me and you just said, can’t. You wouldn’t explain any further. I don’t know, Max, I just. I figured you had a reason. Like, maybe…”

“Maybe what?” He asks, still staring at you.

“I’m just me, Max,” you say, pressing your hands over your face. “I’m just your friend. People get crushes all the time but it doesn’t mean you want to be with me, you’re a fucking world champion and I-“

He reaches up with both hands and grabs your wrists gently. He pulls your hands from your face. There’s a smile on his lips that leaves you teetering between relief and apprehension.

“But I didn’t say I had a crush on you,” he says, brows raised. “I said I love you.”

You sigh heavily and try to pull your hands back to your face. He doesn’t let you. You’re looking anywhere other than his eyes. Anywhere other than him, really. He lets go of your wrists and then cups your face in his hands before you can move.

“Hey,” he says. “I said can’t because I thought there was no way you’d feel the same.”

You stare at him, wide eyed, as his thumbs sweep soft circles over your cheeks. Suddenly, everything comes into focus, bright and blinding and stark. The Las Vegas strip is glowing all around you, but none of the lights are as bright as him.

“I do,” you murmur, and he lights up even brighter, somehow, when he smiles. “Fuck, Max-“

He kisses you right there, where anyone could see, in the middle of one of the busiest sidewalks you’ve ever been on. Nobody seems to notice or care, nobody seems to understand that your whole world is shifting. His lips are warm against yours, he tastes like gin, and he holds onto you like he’s trying to be so, so careful. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck and thread fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

He only pulls away when someone whistles at the two of you. He’s grinning wide, hands still cradling your face, and you have to fight not to pull his lips back to yours.

“Come on,” he says, slightly out of breath.

You don’t ask where you’re going. You just let him lead you away. You’re so in love with him, you think you’d probably follow him anywhere. It’s terrifying and relieving all at the same time.

…..

A week later, in Abu Dhabi, you ask him if he wants to go out after the race. There’s a billion parties he could choose from.

“No,” he says, wrinkling his nose up at the idea. “I’m good.”

You elbow him lightly, raising your brows. “All those parties you called me to pick you up from, and now I’m here and you don’t even want to go out? You don’t want to celebrate your season?”

He smirks as he tugs on the hem of your shirt, pulling you along with him through the paddock. “I want to celebrate, but we don’t need to go out to do that. I have better ideas.”

His hand slips lower from your hip and squeezes at your ass. You yelp and look around frantically, hoping nobody noticed. He’s grinning with pride.

“Party animal Max Verstappen wants to stay in,” you tease. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

He shrugs, leans his head close to yours, and then admits, finally, “it was never about the parties. It was more about who was picking me up from them.”

You smile against his shoulder and try not to let it go to your head. He smiles against your forehead and tells you that he loves you for what must be the millionth time in the past week. You say it right back, drunk on the feeling of it.

a/n: thank you for readinnnnngggg!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully

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tojirights · 2 months

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Honestly think you're one of the best writers for Alastor in this fandom! Your stuff is always brilliant and the characterisation is perfect!

Had the idea last night: Alastor and reader going multiple rounds, and reader still wanting more and being full of energy but Alastor being absolutely out of it and completely shattered, so he uses his tentacles instead, because what kind of gentleman keeps his lady wanting?

Just an excuse to request tentacle sex with everyone's favourite "deer".

a/n: im gonna be so real with you, im not really sure if the tentacles are like, real apendages or if they're part of his shadow soooo i wrote them as the latter. hope it makes sense!! thank you love :') y'all are too nice 🩷

if there was one thing you weren’t expecting to still have in hell, it was your damn hormonal cycle. you didn’t necessarily have a period, but by god, you swore you still ovulated. it felt even worse than before, the primal need threatened to burn a hole through you. you always felt like a bother to alastor during this week of the month, begging and pleading for him to fuck you for hours. but, alastor never turned you away.

today though, you were especially needy. alastor had already made you cum a handful of times and had cum twice himself. he was exhausted. yet, there you were at the edge of his bed, eyes still filled with lust. “my goodess…” alastor chuckles, shaking his head. “i’m not sure i have much left in the tank, darling.” he cups your cheek, watching tears well up in your eyes. “i-i’m sorry-” he shushes you before you can continue. “did i say anything about stopping? i’d never dream of leaving my lady hanging when she needs me.”

“but…” you frown, watching alastor’s smile turn to smirk. “i have a few tricks up my sleeve, my dear. lay back.” your eyes widen as there’s a flash of green light, followed by five tentacle-like appendages sprout from alastor’s back. “w-what?” adrenaline surges through you as well as a mix of excitement and nerves. “you’re gonna… use those?” you gulp, watching the tentacles slither towards you. “why of course!” alastor snickers, seeing your apprehension. “don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours." he coos, watching with hungry yet tired eyes.

the shadow apendages wrap around your thighs, cold to the touch but not unpleasant. as they slowly spread your legs, another slides between them. it's almost embarrassing the way your legs shake with anticipation, the cool tip of the tentacles swiping up your slit. "o-oh, that's..." you sigh in relief when you're suddenly being filled. "how's that darling?" alastor hums, watching as you open wider around him. "that's... oh god alastor..." you pant, every slow thrust of his tentacle-like shadow making your head dizzy.

the foreign feeling of being stretched so wide has you already teetering on the edge. without warning, alastor curls the apendage while picking up pace, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. "gonna-" you mewl, hips arching off the bed with every thrust. "k-keep going please. 'm gonna cum." every whine makes alastor almost wish his cock was back inside of you, knowing just how hard you're clamping down on his shadow.

but the sight of you writhing, gripping the sheets like you're life depended on it was something he's grateful to be seeing from afar. the buildup to your orgasm comes strong, the coil in your stomach snapping from the tension and- "oooh, you really liked that, hm?" alastor's voice is heavy with arousal, pulling you back to reality after cumming. your vision slowly returns, heavy breathing filling your ears. you barely register the soaking mess you've made on the bed. "oh my god. did i..?" your face goes red, embarrasmemt setting in once again. "yes, my sweet. you did, and made quite the mess for us to clean up."

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor hazbin #alastor hazbin hotel smut #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin alastor #alastor x you #alastor x you smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel #alastor imagines #hazbin alastor smut #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin alastor x reader

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myfictionaldreams · 7 months

Text

Day 6: Dry Hump- James Potter

Summary: James Potter was your best friend, and he was unequivocally in love with Lily Evans. However, he has one secret he trusts only with you: he’s never kissed anyone.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, inexperienced James & experienced Reader, friends with benefits vibes, kissing/making out, dry humping, cumming in pants, teasing, nearly caught

Part 2 // Part 3

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James Potter was your best friend. He had many best friends, including the other Marauders and fellow Gryffindors, but he was YOUR best friend and had been since the first year at Hogwarts. James was the one person you always ran to and shared all happy memories with; if you needed cheering up, he’d be the only one who could pull a smile to your lips. It had always been just the two of you until he became infatuated with Lily Evans.

It had been years of hearing about how wonderful Lily was, which you knew anyway as she was your friend. Finally, you convinced her to say yes to one date with James, even though she did wait until everyone was finishing their time at Hogwarts and about to graduate. He’d waited long enough, and you were thrilled to see him getting his dream date.

This was until he casually announced one day, “I’ve never kissed anyone”.

He’d mumbled it to himself under his breath. James had gone from pure exhilarated joy to fear and doubt at the weight he’d put on his shoulders for having to be the perfect date for Lily. You’d taken him to the Shrieking Shack to try and get away from everyone else so that James could blow off some steam, but all he’d done so far was sulk in his armchair and stare into the fire whilst waiting for Sirius and Remus to join after their lesson.

Then, out of the blue, he admitted his secret that he had yet to kiss anyone. A frown dawns on you as you turn away from the book in your hand to inspect the messy-haired Marauder next to you visually. “What?” you asked with a hint of uncertainty as if he was telling the truth, “How have you never kissed anyone before?” Your mind raced to all of the parties in the Gryffindor tower where most people, including yourself, had made out with others, but now that you thought about it, you’d never seen James lip-locked with anyone else.

It was James’ turn to frown as he looked at you blankly, “When would I have had time? I’ve just wanted to be with Lily, and she’s always said no when I’ve asked before. Anyway, I don’t see why you’re saying it in that tone; it’s not like you’ve been kissing loads of people”. You give James a tight-lipped smile to show that he was, in fact, very wrong with that statement. His eyes widen as he realises the truth, “Wait, you have? Since when?”

“James, how can you be shocked? I’ve kissed plenty of people before, especially during those parties with the fire whiskey that Sirius always steals for us. You wander off with the Marauders or fawn over Lily, and what am I supposed to do? Stand on my own? Absolutely not, I go and find some fun”.

Your best friend’s mouth drops open in shock. Still, he quickly covers it up by looking away grumpily, “Great, so I’m the only person in our year who hasn’t kissed anyone, and now, I’m going to take Lily out, and she’s going to refuse to see me again because I don’t know what I’m doing, we’re going to finish school, and I’ll never see her again, and I’ll die alone!”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his over-the-top rant, shutting the book with a loud snap and facing him completely whilst still in your chair. “James, you need to chill out a bit; I’m sure it’ll be fine. Do you really think Lily’s been going around snogging loads of boys? I’m sure she’s just as inexperienced as you”.

James’ shoulders dropped in relief as he turned back towards you with hope in his hazel eyes, “Do you think so?”

Your face immediately gave it away that you’d been lying as you sighed, “Ok, I might have seen her making out with a Ravenclaw a year ago, but still, I wouldn’t worry about it! You’ll be excellent! You’re James Potter, the Gryffindor King, a founding Marauder and Gryffindor Seeker. You can sure as hell make out with Lily Evans correctly”.

The pretty Marauder smiled thankfully at your dramatic declaration, “That’s true, thanks, Sweetheart”. Relaxing back into your seat, the book returned to your hand, assuming the conversation was officially over. However, only a moment later, James is whining pathetically, “But what if I’m not good? What if I hurt her or lick her wrong or-”.

“Lick? Why are you licking her, James? I thought we were on about kissing?”

“We are! But you know, people use tongues and-”

“James, I don’t know what you want me to say; if you’re that petrified with kissing, why don’t we practice a little so you can stop freaking out”. It took you a couple of long seconds before the offer you’d just given him genuinely dawned on you. You weren’t sure why you had said it, expecting him to say no but wishing for him to calm down and thinking this was the only option.

James’ head snapped towards you, giving his full attention as he asked, “Wait, you’d do that?” He pushed himself up off the chair's arms, and his eyes were wide and hopeful again.

Lowering the book, you spoke slowly, “Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s just a kiss, and at least we’re friends, so no feelings have to be involved”.

“Yeah, that's a good point! Okay, right, so, um, how do we do this? Do I come over to you, or do we stand?”

Sighing at James, you stood abruptly, dropping the book and strutting to him with arms swinging. The marauder sits up suddenly, taking his feet off the stool he had been resting on as he stares up at you with wide eyes that you can see the whites of his eyes beneath his glasses. “What are you doing?” He questions uncertainly as you straddle his lap without a word, your knees resting on either side of his toned thighs, your fingers slipping around his neck and interlocking at the base of his skull.

“I’m going to kiss you, James. Is that alright with you?” You didn’t mean to sound sassy as you asked with a single raised questioning eyebrow, but you also needed to make sure that he was happy for this to continue.

Those two wide hazel eyes stared at your lips, licking his own to moisten as he slowly nodded, “Uh yeah, just tell me what to do.” A pang of sympathy rushed through your chest at seeing James becoming nervous, which was not usually a sight that you had to see as he was usually such a confident, happy person. You would have spent some time to explain that it was normal to be nervous during your first kiss, but you didn’t want to allow any more time for him to freak out, so loosening your intern locked fingers, you moved them to cup each of her freshly shaved cheeks and pressed your lips delicately against his. You wanted it to be quick enough that he didn’t even have time to tense, even though he did proceed to lock up as you moved back to assess his reaction.

“See, it’s not so scary. You’re supposed to enjoy this, James”. Thankfully, as your face lowered once more, he forced himself to take a steadying breath and relax the tension in his muscles as your lips caressed his.

They were softer than you’d anticipated, plump and smooth like a pillow and instantly, your eyes and his close. However, James surprised you by moving his first. His hand lifted and rested on your hip so gently that you hardly felt it until he gave your body a little squeeze to test the waters of how much he could get into the moment. So you rewarded him by pressing your face harder against his, lips beginning to move and rubbing against each other on instinct.

James even amazed himself with how naturally and quickly he could make out with you. Tilting your head, you deepened the kiss, nose pressing into his cheek so that you could smell his skin that had remnants of his aftershave, which was always spicy and woodsy. As the air became necessary, you pulled back enough to take deep, greedy breaths, now noticing he was doing the same thing but looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

“So what did you think-”

James didn’t allow your sentence to finish as his other hand cupped along your jaw, pulling your face closer again until the two of you kissed with much more heat with the movements. His mouth opened wider to match how yours was moving against his; your heartbeat quickened as you leaned further into his tall, warm body, melting into his touch and kiss.

Then you wanted to take a risk and licked his bottom lip, which you were ultimately greeted with a praising deep groan of satisfaction that vibrated James’ entire chest and sent tingles straight to your core.

Ok, wow, you thought as James attempted and succeeded with his own lick back against your tongue; you were definitely getting turned on by this. As if he was reading your mind, James pressed harder on your hips, willing you to move down, which you did, your skirt pushing up on your thighs so that when you sat on his crotch, your panty-covered pussy was flush against the material of his trousers.

As one, the two of you pulled away from each other. Mainly because you were now sitting on his very hard erection and also because he knew you could feel his evidence of being aroused. You both stare at each other with wide, unblinking eyes, lips slightly swollen and the taste of his spit still on your tongue.

However, you didn’t want to stop and awkwardly sit back in your seat, and he wasn’t rushing to push you off, either. You were horny, and so was he. Yes, James Potter was your best friend, but that didn’t have to matter; you just wanted him to enjoy the moment and show that it wasn’t as scary as he thought.

Enough time passed, and if he didn’t want to continue, he would have said something by now, so you took the opportunity to lean back in, your thumb attempting to soothe him, stroking across his cheek in timid circles. As your mouths reconnected, your hips ground down on his crotch. You were hoping that he knew enough about anatomy to tell that the warmth from your pussy was a sign of arousal, wanting him to know you were just as turned on as he was.

You do it a few more times, rubbing back and forth with increasing pressure until James makes a pained noise that has you stopping altogether and checking in on him.

He’s looking everywhere but at you, as he apologises, “Sorry, it’s just these trousers are tight and rubbing me painfully”.

“You could just take them off”, you say once again, not thinking before you speak. James looks at you with dramatically wide eyes as he, too, realised what you’d just said. Quickly, you clarified, “I’m not saying that to have sex or anything; I just mean, we could kinda carry on doing what we are doing, but if your trousers are hurting, then just in your boxers”.

You’re surprised by his automatic response of a nod, yes, his arousal blocking all thoughts of Lily as he begins to undo his belt easily. Rising onto your knees to give him room, he pushed the offending material until his thighs were bare and his plaid boxers were on display, barely containing his length. Not wanting him to feel exposed, you lowered yourself once more, and both groaned at the contact, yours at a higher pitch as you could feel the entire outline of his cock against your cunt.

James was bigger than you’d thought and was currently pointing down his left thigh, so you angled your hips in this direction. Tilting your hips forward slightly, your clit grazed along his shaft, causing a hitch in your breath as it caused pleasure to pool in your abdomen, moisture slickening your hole with each movement.

You’re breathing just as heavily as he is, lips still moving against each other, exploring, tasting, needing more. You were kind of proud of him when he moved his face down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses and causing more pleasure to pulse through you. You were half tempted to rise onto your knees again to show him the evidence of your arousal that had soaked through your panties and onto his boxers, but you didn’t want it to stop.

As your fingers delved into his messy black hair to hold his face closer, he thrust his hips up against yours to add to his stimulation. He was still apprehensive, so he didn’t push too hard, but he rocked back and forth until his tip was pressed against your clothed folds. The muscular thighs beneath yours tensed with each thrust, the muscles defined from all his years of playing quidditch.

His hands remained in place, one on the opposite side of your jaw to where his mouth still kissed, and the other hand helped to move your hips back and forth in time with his own ruts. You’d never actually gotten off like this with anyone before. Usually, underwear would be removed at this point, and more direct contact could occur, but it was still exciting to have some barriers between you. The lace of your underwear was quite rough against your most sensitive area, especially your engorged throbbing clit. You were sure to be sore afterwards, especially with the amount of pressure you were rubbing against each other; with each passing second, the need to find completion made you both desperate.

As his lips found yours again, his tongue began to delve and explore the hollow of your mouth, along your palate and even over your teeth; your pussy began to clench, fire blooming in your core with the impending release.

Pulling back, your fingers moved to rest on his shoulders to hold on tighter as you quickly moaned, “Please don’t stop; I’m going to cum”.

James moaned huskily, out of breath, but both of his hands were now on your hips, moving both his hips and yours faster to find his orgasm. Resting your forehead on his, you both shared the same area, still tasting the other in your mouths, sweat beginning to coat your faces. You were sure you could feel his own wet patch against your arse cheek from where precum was dribbling from his tip and staining his underwear.

“Ah, fuck- James!” your head tilts back as you finally orgasm, thighs shaking and pussy fluttering around nothing. However, just as you were beginning to come down from your pleasurable high, James suddenly grabbed you painfully, both arms wrapping around your waist as he sat up further on the chair, nearly knocking you off of him if it wasn't for his grip around your midsection. Reassuringly your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his face nuzzled into your chest, his body shivering as thick spurts of cum soaked his boxers.

His moans were like music to your ears and sounded slightly pathetic, making you cling to him more, attempting to run your fingers through his hair to calm the crazy style, but to no avail. Your pussy felt like it was on fire due to the rough stimulation and the untouched orgasm, but it felt so good you savoured the sensation for a few minutes whilst trying to catch your breath.

“There you go, Potter. Not only have you kissed a girl for the first time, but you’ve also made her cum”.

James laughs, loosening his grip slightly to look up at you, but then you both hear the worst noise imaginable: voices from a few floors below, especially those of Sirius and Remus. You scrambled to your feet, straightening your clothes and sitting back in your chair, picking up the book and opening it to a random page as James pulled up his trousers, both of you ignoring the bodily juices completely.

James just about had his feet back on the footstool before Sirius and Remus walked in, but both immediately halted and looked between you and James. It was Sirius who spoke first, eyes squinting in accusation, “Why do you both look so guilty right now? What did you do?”

#james potter #james potter smut #james potter x reader #james potter one shot #harry potter smut #harry potter #mine*#kinktober #kinktober 2023

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sooniebby · 7 months

Text

I’m back…had a random thought when listening to men moaning and I just had to write it for y’all.. you know the drill, bottom male reader, reader is mentioned to have a cock

Smut fic—in which reader has the terrible experience of being able to read minds. It was fun at first when you first found out at age ten.. but then it just got bad because you couldn’t control it

Hearing your mom’s thoughts about your dad was traumatizing to say the least. As you grew older, you basically learned to tune people out by filling your head with your own thoughts. It usually works.

And it was your usual day in your philosophy class at the university you dreamed of going to.. and it was the usual in that you sat next to this random girl who slept the entire time. Which was good, you didn’t have to worry about her thoughts.

But much to your surprise, someone sat next to you. It was pretty shocking. This guy was “popular” in the sense he was handsome and everyone wanted to be near him.

He usually only sat next to his friends but today he was next to you..? Odd—but you didn’t care that much. You now had to focus on making sure his thoughts didn’t distract you from your professor..

But you did want to take a little peak—just to see what a guy like him would be thinking. At most, you expected him to be focused on taking notes

This guy… is he an actor, you thought to yourself. He looked to be paying attention but the only thing on his mind was sex.. with you.

And not just a fleeting glimpse of sex. it was.. wow, pretty graphic.

He was fantasizing about fucking you in an empty classroom. The classroom you two were in right now. You sprawled on the teacher’s desk, back arched with your legs being pushed towards you.

He was fucking you. Very harsh. He had a very vivid dream of how you’d look fucked out on the table—your moans filling the empty classroom.

His fantasy was solely on you. How you cried, how you arched your back, how you whined his name.. suddenly, he was holding tightly on your neck, lightly squeezing it while his thrusts began to practically knock your breath away.

“You sound so cute.. but you can be louder, yeah?” His fantasy self said to you, reaching down and slapping your ass which earned a scream. Which embarrassingly enough caused you to flinch in real life.

Okay, that’s enough..! You thought to yourself, looking away with a blush. Holy shit. This random guy… was dreaming about having sex with you?! But you guys didn’t even speak.. why.. did he like you?

You couldn’t help but glance over at him, trying hard to not let his thoughts flood your mind again. He was certainly hot—which made sense why a lot girls kept fangirling about him.. Black hair slicked back with gel, a nice nose, plump lips girls were jealous of, a lean body, cat-like eyes..

why was he into you?

He could have anyone.. but he’s thinking about you?

By accident, a slip of his thoughts flooded you again. He wasn’t thinking about sex anymore, he was actually focused on his notes. With a sigh, you decided to believe you were just going crazy and took a sip from your water bottle.

‘His mouth is so small.. would it actually be able to fit around my cock?’

You coughed heavily as water slipped out of your mouth. Much to your shock, the perverted guy handed you some tissues to wipe your mouth. You muttered a thank you, cleaning your chin and mouth.

Jesus, this guy is going to be the death of you.

‘He’s so cute…I hope he likes guys…’

You sighed, happy that he was finally thinking about you normally.

‘Ah.. what if it was my cum instead of water on his lips..? Oh, too much don’t wanna pop a boner in class.’

You could only cough once more in shock and cover your ears. Oh, you needed him away from you fast. But it seemed like he was going to actually start pursuing you soon..

But what you really wondered is if you could survive hearing his thoughts on a daily basis.. and by the embarrassing boner you were sporting right now

Yeah, you were going to be having boners in philosophy often.

‘Does he even like giving blowjobs..? Hope so.. it’d be hot cumming in his mouth..having it overflow.. oops, boner!’

This was going to be a long day…

My first ever one where the guy actually thinks and technically talks… :0! This was fun if you guys want, I’ll definitely expand on it. For now, Imma continue the roommate for tmmr <3

Yoga instructor is coming soon, can’t wait to have an actual fic for him, it’ll be in 2nd person!

Tag list: @nakedtoasterr @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @the-ultimate-librarian @iwishtobeacrow (ask to added to my tag list to be tagged in all of my works :3)

#bottom male reader #uke male reader #oc x reader #smut drabble #smut ideas #mlm nsft #mlm ns/fw #x male reader #smut prompts

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mypoisonedvine · 1 month

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𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 | angus tully x reader (series finale)

read 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 and 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 first!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | angus has been waiting to see you again, but the more feelings get involved, the more complicated your affair becomes.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), mega angst but also fluff too, infidelity, boring old people parties, reader is still emotionally constipated and angus still has a breeding kink, but that's honestly it it's just a bunch of emotions so strap in folks!

Angus was pretty sure he broke some kind of record, with how quickly he ran back to his room after talking to you on the payphone.

He was sure that was exactly what you were picturing him doing— he’d made it pretty clear what he’d do once you hung up, and you’d made it pretty difficult to do anything else with the way you were talking. You’d been winding him up on purpose, of course; so yes, you could easily imagine him making a mad dash to his room and slamming the door— if you really ever thought about him outside of those phone calls.

That was the thing Angus couldn’t figure out about you. Well, there were probably a lot of other things than that, but it was the quandary he spent the most time pondering: does she think about me?

Whenever he mustered the courage to ask you something to that effect, you would either change the subject or give a half-answer. Something about how you had a dream about him the other night or how your parents asked about him— never what he was really asking.

But, frankly, at that moment as he shut his dorm room door and jumped into bed, whether or not you thought about him much was not as pertinent an issue. Right then, all he could think about was getting his hand around his raging boner; his mind was just playing everything you’d said to him over the phone on repeat.

I’m touching myself right now, you’d whispered in a sultry voice, I’m so wet, Angus— fuck, I’m so wet…

He’d never had to work so hard to keep a straight face on the phone before… he figured if anyone was really looking, they’d notice how red he was turning or how he kept shifting uncomfortably. And he told you just as much, which of course only encouraged you. Don’t want them to know, huh? you’d taunted. Don’t want the other boys to find out you’re listening to me get off?

And no, he didn’t— you were such a precious thing, the boys here didn’t even deserve to imagine you— but when you offered to stop if it was too distracting, he only found himself shakily begging for more.

As he quickly opened his khaki pants and gripping his cock, he hissed through his teeth; his ego could barely take all you’d said about that cock, about how thick and ‘perfect’ (you used that exact word, perfect, and he thought he might float) it was, about how you wished you could come around it right then instead of your fingers.

“It’s all yours,” he mumbled to himself, under his breath, not even really noticing he was saying it aloud. “You want it, baby? It’s all fucking yours.”

He groaned as he stroked himself, the precum that had been leaking from his tip for a while making everything even easier. Shutting his eyes tight, he pictured you, like he always did: all of you, everything, anything he could remember.

You ever think about me? you’d asked him over the phone— and he’d blurted out his always before he even realized you meant while he was getting off. It was still true, but more specific than necessary. He craved to hear you say it: I think about you too. But he didn’t ask, and you just went back to moaning while you rubbed your clit— which, apparently, was already swollen and throbbing— and, well, he wasn’t strong enough to interrupt that.

“Fuck,” he grunted, deep in the back of his throat, finally letting his pace pick up until his hand was a blur: after all that anticipation and all that waiting, there was no use trying to hold back now. It wasn’t like you were here to worry about him coming too fast, even though you’d still maintained you found it endearing when it happened.

He repeated your voice in his head, the moment that had made him worry he would blow his load in his trousers before he could even get off the phone and back to his room: I’m gonna come for you, you’d warned him in the most beautiful moaning voice, Angus— I want you so bad, oh god— I’m gonna come for you, fuck…

His lip caught between his teeth, his hips rocked up into his own palm. “Yes, fuck, baby,” he panted, “I— fuck!”

He tried to conjure in his mind how it had felt to come inside you, but he knew even his vivid imagination could never really capture the feeling; nothing could even come close. Still, remembering it and letting himself indulge in his strangest fantasies for just a moment sent him over the edge. His face flushed suddenly as he came in long, heavy pulses, the back of his free hand falling over his open mouth yet doing little to suppress his moans.

It was intense— it was certainly better than his orgasms usually were when brought on by himself— but it only satisfied him for a moment. The moment he was finished, with a deep breath in and his hips relaxing back down onto the mattress, he wanted more— he wanted you.

His heavy eyes glanced to the side, trying to remember what it felt like to lie next to you. He’d never felt lonely after jerking off before he met you; now getting off seemed to bring a new wave of heartbreak each time.

When he shook off the thought and looked down at himself, he frowned as he realized he’d ruined his own shirt doing that— not that he could fully bring himself to regret it.

No, his regrets only really began a few weeks later, when the nagging loneliness in the back of his mind finally got the better of him.

It was the middle of the night when he wrote it, after he woke up from a dream of you that he just couldn’t shake from his mind. After checking that his roommate was fast asleep, Angus carefully slipped out of bed and tip-toed to the desk, and pulling out a box of cards and envelopes from one of the drawers. (He thought he’d never use them when his mom sent them with him at the beginning of the year, but a lot had changed since then.)

Something about the ungodly hour made him more honest— or maybe just more shameless. He wrote a frantic ramble, everything he’d wanted to say to you that he’d never had the courage to blurt out over the phone; all the feelings he’d felt since that incredible night in the backseat of your car, which he’d assumed would fade… which he’d tried to convince himself would fade.

Unfortunately, even the adrenaline of writing down the thoughts of you he’d been poring over for over a month wasn’t enough to overpower exhaustion: he awoke the next morning slumped over the desk, the pen still uncapped and fallen a few inches from his hand, the letter left folded open.

He awoke to the sound of someone’s door shutting down the hall, specifically; jumping and blinking quickly, he looked at the window— it was morning, though still quite early— and then at his roommate who was, thank god, still asleep.

Angus looked back at the letter in front of him, only making out a few words in his brief glance, before his cheeks began to heat up and he quickly folded it shut. As more footsteps moved through the hall, the boy in the bed nearby stirred and grumbled to himself, and Angus quickly snatched up the letter and shoved it in his book bag before he was caught red-handed.

Ironically, that little commotion was what actually got the other boy’s attention. “What are you doing at the desk?” he asked groggily, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his palm.

“Oh, I, uh— I had to do some late night cramming,” Angus explained nervously, “that big Geography test coming up and all…”

The half-awake boy seemed to notice for a moment that the story didn’t really make sense, on account of the empty desk, but he simply shrugged and tossed his blanket aside to get up as well.

For the rest of the day, Angus couldn’t think straight— and not just because of his mediocre rest and achy back from the absolutely terrible sleep posture he’d had. He couldn’t stop thinking about the letter, even if he honestly couldn’t remember for certain everything he’d said… he couldn’t stop wondering if he should send it to you. He almost didn’t want to read it again first— he wanted you to read it in its most authentic state, he wanted to mail it before he chickened out just like he had when you said you two could just stay casual. Even if it made his heart race and his palms especially clammy, Angus decided in the middle of that goddamned Geography test that he was going to mail that letter tonight after dinner: he was finally just going to man up and tell you.

Of course, something went horribly wrong along the way: he made a fatal mistake. Looking back on it, he couldn’t tell for certain if his mistake was falling for you in the first place, or writing the infamous letter, or shoulder-checking Kountze without holding on tight enough to his bag.

The argument that happened beforehand was petty and forgettable, even if it gathered a small crowd of Kountze’s friends, but it ended with Angus trying to walk away a tad… aggressively, and with Kountze grabbing him by the strap of his bag which not only knocked Angus off-balance but spilled the contents onto the floor of the dorm’s shared room.

Everyone saw the books and papers hit the ground; everyone saw the off-white cardstock land right on top. Angus reached for the letter quickly, but Kountze beat him there, and held it back with a snicker.

“Well, well,” Kountze tutted proudly, “what’s this?”

“H-hey, don’t read that,” Angus warned, hoping the seriousness of his tone would somehow affect the other boy— but, obviously, it did not. Kountze started to open it and Angus instantly made a dive for it, only to be stopped by three other students who apparently were curious as well about the letter. “Don’t fucking read that!” Angus demanded.

“Oh god, it’s to a girl!” he realized. “Do you have a girlfriend, Tully?”

“I swear to god, Kountze, if you fucking read that—”

“I miss you,” Kountze began to read aloud as Angus thrashed around to try to stop him, “I miss you so much I don’t even know what to say.”

The boys holding Angus back were enraptured as Kountze read the letter; “Do you guys pay this much attention in class?” he mocked them, though they were ignoring him completely as they waited for the other boy to keep reading.

“I feel like I can’t breathe without you— aw, Tully, you’re a poet,” Kountze mocked with a smile. Angus’ heart raced as he remembered what part of the letter came next. “Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you and your smile— Jesus, this is some really sappy shit— or what it’s like talking with you for hours, or how it feels—”

He stopped, and Angus froze, and after a moment the group of boys started demanding the conclusion. “What— what does it say?!” “Read it, Kountze!”

“How it feels to be inside you,” Kountze continued with wide eyes, staring at Angus’ bright red face as the other boys began to react loudly.

Angus renewed his struggle against the kids holding him back, but even though he was taller than them, he was severely outnumbered. “Stop— that’s personal!” Angus demanded to no avail.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my hand after having you,” Kountze continued with a laugh. “From what I hear from your roommate, Tully, your hand is treating you just fine.”

“Shut up,” Angus hissed, but his words had lost their bite as his humiliation grew.

“I should’ve told you before I left—” he started, but finally Angus found some new strength within himself to shake off the boys holding him back: he dove at Kountze and took him down, scrambling to snatch the card away. He was going to be satisfied with just that, but of course Kountze still had to open his mouth, even when Angus had him pinned. “Jesus, Tully,” he scoffed, “how ugly is this chick that you got her to sleep with you?”

Angus brought a fist swiftly down to Kountze’s nose, who groaned in pain and held his face as Angus got up and ran away. The other boys let him pass, thankfully, and Angus wasted no time getting to his room and slamming the door behind him.

Defiantly wiping a tear from his cheek, Angus took a quick look at the letter— wrinkled, stained and scuffed from the fight with Kountze— and crumpled it up, tossing it into his wastebasket before throwing himself onto his bed and hiding his head under the pillow.

He was stupid to even write it, let alone consider sending it; it was no use, you obviously didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about you. You were the one who said it should just be what it was— a fling. But Angus felt like he’d been flung directly into hell, the way it tore into his chest to imagine you didn’t really want him.

Even if he never read the letter again that day, he remembered how it ended— and it was the part he couldn’t get out of his mind even when he wanted more than anything to forget it all.

Is this what love feels like?

It reminded you a lot of that dinner over Christmas break, except somehow, it seemed like he was staring at you even more. Shouldn’t he have gotten that out of his system a bit by now?

But then again, maybe you should’ve been more used to it, since it had been over an hour of picking away at this quail dinner, and he’d barely taken his eyes off of you. Something about him looked different; it was basically impossible that he could’ve visibly aged in just a couple months, and yet he seemed like he was carrying just a bit more age on those thin shoulders. Maybe it was just the slight five-o-clock shadow over his jaw— but, no, there was a different look in his eyes, too—

Realizing you were, in fact, staring back at him, you quickly snapped your gaze back down to your plate.

You’d been wanting a chance to talk to him before this dinner, to hopefully prevent exactly this issue, but once the dinner ended you found yourself avoiding him. Of course you weren’t ready to talk to him— of course you had a million thoughts in your head and half of them didn’t even make sense.

For once, you actually tried to talk to all of your parents’ snooty friends, repeating the same answers over and over about how you were going to graduate school in the fall and how you were looking forward to your family’s Paris trip in the summer and all that jazz. It was worth it to keep Angus off your back for a moment, even if you could still feel his eyes boring into said back from time to time.

Midway through a mind-numbingly boring conversation (if something so one-sided could be called a conversation) with the Gordons about renovations they’d done on their summer house, you glanced around the room over your shoulder and noticed that Angus was apparently absent. His parents were still there, sitting on a couch— that is, his mom and stepdad— so he couldn’t be far, but out of view he was far enough. Figuring he’d gone to the kitchen or the restroom, you figured it was the perfect time to disappear into the downstairs bedroom and, hopefully, hide out for the rest of the party. Excusing yourself quickly, you made a polite dash for the other end of the room.

And yet, somehow, he appeared out of thin air; as you turned down the hallway, only a dim lamp on an antique credenza lighting your way, you heard Angus’ hushed voice behind you. He laid his hand on your shoulder, and the moment you turned to face him, he was on you— his weight pressed you into the wall and you felt trapped in a way that was annoyingly pleasant.

“God, I missed you,” he breathed, kissing you hard and sudden; you whimpered a little, nearly melting into it, before you pushed him back at his shoulders.

“A-Angus, wait,” you sighed. “You, um… you didn’t call for a while.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, “um, I’m sorry— I just got busy with midterms and stuff— but I really wanted to!”

He moved like he was about to kiss you again, but you kept your hand on his chest to keep him away. “I wanted to tell you…” you trailed off.

“Tell me what?”

“You remember Brian Stevenson?”

“Oh— um, yeah, I guess so,” Angus frowned a little, clearly confused by what seemed like a non sequitur. “I used to go over to his house when I was little, although it was just to play with his little brother, but… yeah, I remember him.”

“I’ve been sorta, y’know… going with him,” you explained, hesitantly meeting Angus’ gaze just in time to see the most terrible sadness cover his face.

“O-oh,” he choked out, quickly stepping back from you and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, twisting your loafer-clad foot on the carpet nervously. “It’s just, you know, he asked me out a couple weeks ago, and ever since then—”

“So is he, like, your boyfriend?” Angus pressed. You nodded. He looked away. “Right— that’s… cool. That’s cool.”

You bit your lip slightly, hating that he wouldn’t look at you all of a sudden. “Angus, it’s just that, you know, we said—”

“Right,” he interrupted sharply. “Right, I remember what we said— what you said, that we weren’t— you know. That it wasn’t anything.”

“I didn’t say that—” you tried to correct him.

“You said you were mine,” he added suddenly, making your eyes widen. “Did you even mean that?”

“I— Angus, come on,” you laughed nervously. “That’s… that’s just something people say…”

He scoffed, and looked to the side as he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek; contempt looked sort of good on him, you thought, except that it was directed at you. He was trying to hide it, but his eyes were watering.

“I’m sorry,” you began but he cut you off right away.

“No, don’t do that,” he shook his head quickly, crossing his arms and staring down at the floor. “Don’t lie to me anymore.”

“No— I really am,” you tried to assure.

“Hey, it’s fine,” he insisted sharply. “It’s— you know, it is what it is. It was just one of those things.”

“If it’s fine, then look at me,” you pleaded. He didn’t. And for a long moment, the two of you stood there, still and silent.

“It’s fine,” he repeated softly, turning on his heel.

“Angus, wait,” you hissed, not wanting to raise your voice with all the guests not too far away— of course, it was fruitless, and he briskly blended back in with the crowd.

Sighing, you dropped your head into your hands. That wasn’t how you ever wanted this to go, you never wanted to hurt him; honestly, you’d assumed he’d be irritated, but not… sad. Not devastated. Of course he would prefer to be getting laid, but you figured he wouldn’t have too much trouble finding some other girl to screw around with— sometimes, you’d wondered if he already had.

It was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to be casual, it was supposed to be fun. You couldn’t think of anything you’d ever done, or anything you’d ever felt, that was less fun than this.

It made a strange sort of sense that the next time you saw him was at another party. Of course, this party was entirely different from the last one: for one, it was hosted by your boyfriend, and there sure as hell wasn’t any quail. There was a lot more alcohol, though.

You were hanging off to the side, not feeling quite up for mixing in with the crowd as they danced to the record Brian had put on. Even if they spared you from the same boring questions that your parents’ friends bombarded you with, they were uninteresting in their own way as every conversation seemed to come back to politics or pot.

Brian startled you a bit by coming up beside you, resting his hand on the small of your back. “Hey,” he greeted, and you smiled up at him. Your eyes lingered on his face— he looked… grown up. It was probably just because he had a beard; he certainly didn’t always act grown up, but overall, Brian was perfectly acceptable. He’d asked you out, he’d actually had the bravery for that, so that was a great head start.

You tried to shake the thought out of your mind, looking away from him; it wasn’t a head start because this wasn’t a race. Who, after all, would he be racing against?

For some reason, your eyes turned to the front door— and you bit your lip as you saw Angus coming inside, slipping off his coat and looking around the room (for you, presumably). He looked even more haggard than before: a little pale, eyes sunken and dark, and he definitely hadn’t shaved since you saw him.

Brian looked to find where you were staring, and frowned slightly. “Who’s that?” he asked.

“Oh, um— Angus Tully, his parents are friends with mine, I used to babysit him when he was a kid.”

You knew that wasn’t really what he was asking, so you weren’t surprised when he got to the point more directly: “What’s he doing here?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, hoping Brian wouldn’t somehow figure out that your heart was racing.

Brian’s hand moved up to your shoulder and gave it a squeeze, just as Angus noticed you and hurriedly shoved his way through the crowd to come face-to-face with you.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice raspy and hurried as he took a quick glance at Brian in his peripheral.

“Um— sure,” you agreed awkwardly, not sure which answer would be less suspicious. Of course, when you glanced at Brian, he just looked mildly annoyed— bored, even. You realized in that moment that you didn’t need to worry about him suspecting you and Angus of anything, because he barely registered Angus’ existence: he certainly wouldn’t acknowledge him as some kind of sexual threat.

“Privately,” Angus added— and that actually got Brian’s attention, though he seemed more aware of your discomfort than anything.

“Anything you wanna say to her, you can say in front of me,” Brian assured firmly, and Angus swallowed anxiously— it was obvious from the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“Actually, uh, somebody was looking for you out front,” Angus told him. “Something about a keg getting delivered to the wrong house?”

“Shit,” Brian hissed, dropping his hand from your shoulder and looking towards the door again. “Fucking idiots…”

Having made quick work of Brian, Angus put his attention back on you. “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.

“W-we can just talk here,” you tried to say, but he was already grabbing your wrist and guiding you out; why did your heart still skip when he touched you?

Once he’d taken you through the kitchen and out to the back porch— where you could still hear the music and chatter, but it was much quieter— you spoke.

“Angus, I really am sorry about— you know— but you can’t just—” you started.

“It’s not over yet,” he insisted, surprising you with his intensity; you leaned back against the wooden railing, and he stood just a little too close with those dark brown eyes piercing through you.

“If you tell me you’re happy with Brian, I’ll leave you alone,” Angus decided, puffing up his chest a bit.

“I’m happy with Brian,” you said sternly.

A brief moment passed. “Okay, I lied,” Angus admitted.

“Jesus,” you hissed.

“But only because I don’t believe you!” he explained. “We were so good together.”

“Yeah, we were,” you admitted, “but… it’s over now.”

“No— it’s not. It can’t be!” he insisted with a whine, and you scoffed as you shook your head.

“Angus, you’re being childish,” you scolded.

“Oh, don’t say that,” he grimaced. “Don’t hold that against me— I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Of course you’re not— but you’re not thinking clearly.”

“Damn right I’m not!” he spat. “You’re all I could think about, for months! Months, I couldn’t fucking get you out of my head! And not just the, you know, the dirty stuff— everything. Every moment I spent with you, every dumb thing we talked about for hours, every time you laughed at one of my shitty jokes—”

“Angus, please,” you breathed, glancing down; you could only take so much of this, and you worried he was figuring that out.

“Does he make you laugh?” Angus pressed, stepping a bit closer to you. “Does he make you feel special? Does he make you come?”

“Yes,” you said sharply, “he’s great, okay? I’m happy— so please just stop fucking this up for me.”

“Okay, fine,” he conceded, “you’re happy, I believe you. But… but what about me, y’know? He doesn’t need you like I do.”

Your face warmed up and you crossed your arms tighter, staring down at the ground.

“Of course he likes you— who wouldn’t? But he couldn’t even imagine how I feel about you— how long I’ve been thinking about you. I mean, I’ve wanted you since I was a kid! You’re my dream girl!”

“That’s— that has nothing to do with me,” you tried to explain. “That’s a fantasy!”

“But it’s real, baby,” he sighed, bringing his hands up to gently hold your arms at either side. “It’s so real, you know it is.”

You didn’t even have the heart to deny it— or to tell him not to call you that. You knew if you looked up at him, you wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore; he must’ve known that, too, because he delicately lifted your chin until you met his gaze.

And then he kissed you: tender, sweet, and shameless. He didn’t care if anyone saw, if anyone knew— even Brian. You, on the other hand, still cared enough to try to stop him; but even you couldn’t resist a kiss like this, and you found your hands pulling him closer as quickly as they’d tried to push him away.

He took you home, without another word about what this meant or where you stood with each other. You snuck him into your room and he climbed into bed with you and he touched you like he’d been waiting a lot longer than just a few months for this moment. Frankly, you were beginning to realize that you’d been waiting a lot longer for this, too.

Before, Angus had always been talkative during sex— sometimes annoyingly so. But this time, he didn’t say a damn thing; neither of you did. And yet, somehow, just by the way he looked at you, just by the way he held you, just by the way he moved inside you... you felt like you heard more than you ever had.

You sat next to each other on the bench, staring forward into the dark treeline ahead— there was still a layer of frost around their roots, and a new snow had begun to fall even if it wasn’t cold enough for it to stick on the pavement. You tried not to look at him too long, in case it made this any harder, but you did appreciate that he seemed a bit more put together than he had the last time you went a few days without seeing him. He was clean-shaven, too… is it wrong that you kinda missed the stubble?

“Thanks for, you know… giving me a couple days to think about it,” you mumbled, and he nodded.

“I thought you might have somewhere better to be on a Friday night,” he said— trying to lighten the mood a bit, you could tell; trying to make you comfortable.

“Well, even if I did, I think this needs to be done,” you explained, and he pressed his lips together a bit.

He waited patiently, though, for you to break the silence and explain yourself, even if he didn’t seem too surprised when you did it.

“It was a mistake,” you decided. “It was great, but it was a mistake— and I’d really appreciate if we could just… let it go. And if you didn’t tell Brian.”

“Okay,” he nodded slowly. “I wasn’t gonna tell him. But I still think you should dump him.”

“Well, that’s my decision,” you reminded him, crossing your arms.

“I know,” he breathed.

You could already tell, just by the way the next silence began, that he was going to interrupt it with something stupid… you just never expected how stupid.

“The thing is— I love you,” he blurted out suddenly, turning to look at you again as your eyes widened. “I fucking love you.”

“Angus, I— you can’t—!” you choked out, but he continued before you could try to think of a response.

“I know I do— don’t say I don’t know what that is, or that I’m too young or something stupid like that,” he pleaded. “I know how I feel, okay? When you miss somebody this much, when you think about somebody this much— what else could love be, but that?”

You sighed, looking away, and he moved closer to you on the bench. Even if you knew it was preposterous that someone else would be in the park at the end of the street at this time of night, you still fought the urge to look over your shoulder.

“Don’t tell me I’m crazy,” he breathed. “You love me too, don’t you? I mean— I thought you basically forgot I existed, but last night… that sort of thing doesn’t just happen, does it? It’s not… it’s not usually like that.”

“No, it’s not,” you admitted, “that was different.”

He perked up, smiling wide when you looked at him again. “Just say it,” he begged, “say you love me too— ‘cause I know you do.”

“I— Angus, it’s more complicated than that,” you explained. “We’re still— there’s Brian, for one thing… we can’t really go on like this, you know that.”

“I know— I don’t want to keep doing this. I want to really be together,” he replied. You tried to turn your body away from his slightly, but he grabbed your hands and held them tight until you looked at him again. “I’m almost done with high school— I’ll go to college where you’re going for grad school!”

You shook your head. “No, you can’t do that.”

“Just think about it: us, together— we could actually go on real dates, and go to college parties together, and, like, study out at the library— or, you know, whatever you college kids do,” he fantasized. You smiled, but shook your head again.

“We… we can’t do that,” you denied.

He frowned, and turned away from you, staring darkly at the ground. “I knew it,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “You’re embarrassed— you’re ashamed of me.”

“What?!” you blurted out. “Angus, no—”

“It’s okay,” he said in a terribly unconvincing way, crossing his arms. “I don’t blame you: I’m just some dumb kid from your hometown. You want a guy your age— not some random freshman… you want something better.”

“That’s bullshit,” you replied instantly, “you can do so much better.”

“C’mon, I’ll never do better than you,” he insisted.

Even though he’d misunderstood you, your heart still swelled a bit at the compliment. “I meant for college, Angus,” you explained, and he deflated a little. “You can do a lot better than a state school.”

“Well, I, um… I don’t know if I can,” he admitted nervously. “My grades are kinda… inconsistent. And I went to so many different high schools—”

“Who gives a shit?” you scoffed. “You’re fucking smart— way smarter than anybody else here. You act like an idiot sometimes, but you’re eighteen, it kinda comes with the territory.”

He frowned, but couldn’t exactly deny it.

“You deserve to go somewhere amazing,” you told him. “You need to go somewhere amazing— and do something amazing.”

For a long moment, he just stared out into the dark; until, suddenly, he whipped his head back around at you with a quizzical look on his face. “Wait— is that what this is all about?”

“What?”

“Do you not want to be with me because you think you’d, like, hold me back or something?” he accused.

You blinked quickly; something about the way he said be with me caught you off-guard— like it was a term much more mature than you had expected from him. Instead of answering directly, you just stammered. “Well, y-you’re young, and—”

He cut you off quickly with a laugh. “Oh my god! You think I give a shit about that?”

“No,” you shot back, “but you should. You realize how fucking dumb it would be to change your whole life for the first person you ever slept with?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds dumb,” he admitted, looking down at his feet swinging over the edge. “But what if it’s somebody that, you know, you think you really have a shot with? What if it’s somebody that you feel like you can’t live without? Somebody that makes you finally get all those songs you hear on the radio—”

“It only feels like this to you because you’ve never felt anything else,” you explained gently. “It’s your first love. It fades.”

“But I don’t want it to,” he said instantly, looking at you with the most heartbreaking eyes you’d ever seen. “God, I don’t want it to.”

You looked up at him as his hand brushed over your face, and felt tears welling before you could fight them off; he kissed you, in a way that you thought he might have never really kissed you before. In a way nobody had kissed you before, in fact. It wasn’t very long, but it felt like it might as well have gone on forever.

When he broke away, he kept his eyes shut, and he pressed his forehead to yours as his thumb stroked your cheek. “Tell me it doesn’t have to end,” he breathed, “please. Tell me it’s not going to end.”

“It has to,” you whispered back, watching his shoulders sink and bringing your hand up to clutch at his chest. “It has to end, someday.”

You took a shaky breath, watching a tear fall from his jaw onto your arm, feeling everything you’d held back finally breaking through as your grip on shirt tightened and your lip began to quiver.

“But it doesn’t have to be tonight,” you sighed.

Gasping with relief and joy simultaneously, he kissed you again, and pulled you closer at your waist, and wrapped you up in his arms tightly.

There was, of course, this nagging voice at the back of your mind— that maybe it didn’t have to end. And god, you wanted to silence that thought permanently if you could, because it had never done you any good. That hope had only ever led to pain before. But, without it, nothing would ever really have a chance: if you weren’t willing to risk the heartache, you’d never let yourself love Angus the way that he deserved and the way that you knew, deep down, you already did.

So, as he kissed you that way you thought people only kissed in movies, and whispered to you those words you thought people only said because they were poets and dreamers, you realized that maybe it didn’t have to end someday. Maybe he would spend the next several years of your lives convincing you that you didn’t need to protect yourself from your own feelings. Maybe he would actually have the patience to break down walls he never built, to fix wounds he didn’t leave. Maybe he was ready to give you something to believe in, something worth taking risks for while you were still young and reckless. Maybe he, like the oncoming equinox, would melt your ice so new life could grow.

Or, maybe, this feeling he had really would fade once he gained a little more life experience; maybe you would make too many mistakes for him to forgive. Maybe you would always be friends, or maybe you would have too much history to be able to see each other again. Maybe you would grow apart— maybe you would have to brace yourself for that, to sit next to him on a cold dorm room mattress as you both realized it just wasn’t working anymore.

The most important thing that you realized in that moment— that eternal moment in his arms, in the dark, in the last snow of Spring— was that it didn’t matter. It didn’t have to be forever to be perfect; it didn’t have to be the ending to be beautiful. He loved you. Even if you were still trying to figure out why, he loved you; and that was true, and real, and special. His love couldn’t fix you, but it made you feel fixable, and you hadn’t seen yourself that way in a long time— you could only dream that you might see yourself the way he saw you.

When you pulled back from the kiss for a moment, you smiled wide— you laughed, actually— and sniffled as he wiped your tears away. “I love you,” you told him, and even though he kissed you again, you didn’t stop saying it. You wanted to keep it on your lips until it didn’t scare you anymore; you wanted to keep your heart open, even if it made you vulnerable, maybe because it made you vulnerable. After all, you couldn’t ever be sure it wouldn’t come back to bite you… if you could, it wouldn’t mean anything.

Even though all you said to him was I love you, each one meant something a bit different. I trust you. I’m not sure I’m ready, but I’m going to try. I’m sorry. I’m so glad I met you. I’ll never forget you. Please don’t let me go.

Somehow, you felt like he heard each one. Each time he told you that he loved you, though, you heard the same thing: I won’t let you go, ever.

Easter Mass was relatively pleasant, if a little too long. You did notice Angus sitting with his family, across the aisle and a few rows back, but you only gave him a quick wave before the service started and managed to resist glancing back at him after that.

The best part of Easter was always afterwards, though: you stood at the furthest end of the lawn, in front of the ivy-covered exterior wall of the chapel, as children ran around snatching up colorful eggs to collect for their baskets. Even if it was totally stupid, and irrelevant to the actual message of the holiday that the priest had just spent the whole service hammering in, you got a kick out of the fancy clothes and tiny dress shoes, the squeals of delight, the candy and toys in bright pastels. You were just thankful the weather had warmed up in the nick of time for all the festivities— indoor egg hunts never have quite the same effect.

Angus sauntered up beside you, sipping on a styrofoam cup of complimentary coffee, and you didn’t even look at each other, but you both smiled.

“They’re cute,” he stated after a little while.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Do you wanna have a kid?” he asked, and you gave him a hesitant glance only to find him looking right back at you— his expression was friendly, but neutral enough that you couldn’t read if he meant having a kid with him or just, you know, in general.

Deciding it must be the second one, you let out a soft, nervous laugh. “Uh, I dunno… maybe someday,” you offered, as non-committal as possible.

“How about right now?” he challenged, lowering his voice slightly, but not enough to stop you from glancing around to make sure nobody heard.

“Angus, fucking Christ,” you coughed. “Don’t joke about that.”

“I’m not,” he shrugged. “I mean, maybe I’m not being literal, but that doesn’t mean I’m not being serious.”

“Well… we can’t,” you mumbled, looking out at the lawn again, hoping not to stand out too much. “Not here.”

“I know, I know,” he agreed, and the two of you fell back into a silence— an oddly comfortable one, even. You crossed your arms as you watched the kids run around and he kept sipping on his coffee. After a few moments, though, you spoke again.

“Meet you in the Sunday school room in the West wing in five minutes?”

“Yup,” he said, already turning to leave. You smiled slightly to yourself, glancing down at your white shoes planted in the grass. Even on such a delicately-manicured lawn, wildflowers were already springing up— little periwinkle diamonds scattered here and there.

When what felt like a reasonable amount of time passed, you made your careful and casual exit from the egg hunt to slip back inside. Once you were away from the crowds and on your way to meet Angus, you couldn’t stop yourself from running… and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, either.

#angus tully x reader #angus tully smut

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dantakeyoman · 1 year

Text

Neteyam Has Something Important To Tell You As You Patch Him Up (SFW)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: fluff, Neteyam is smooth asf, little bit of blood, Neteyam is a simp, Mo’at is an awesome wing-woman, Utral Aymokriyä is where Jake and Neytiri mated

“Be sure that mushroom is ground well, (y/n). We will need it when the hunting party return,” Mo’at instructed, implying the bioluminescent fungi that sat next to you.

You nodded firmly, placing the plant into something that was the earthly equivalent of a mortar and pestle, and promptly starting your work.

You loved your job as a healer, and took it very seriously. Even more so since, recently, Mo’at has been giving you lessons in perfecting your craft.

The right way to turn your wrist when grinding ingredients, how one’s blood can tell their origins, better methods to connect with Eywa.

Because of her, you have become 10x the better healer than you were before, and you were beyond thankful.

Throughout your childhood, you had dreamed of becoming a healer and helping your people. But once you met a certain Sully, who was next in line for Olo’eyktan, that dream slightly warped throughout the years.

Of course you still wanted to heal your people, there was no doubt about that. But instead of being a healer, you wanted to be the healer.

His healer.

“Not too much, (y/n). You don’t want the paste to be too thin,” Mo’at calmly reminded, keeping her eyes on her own grinding.

You snapped yourself out of it, slightly embarrassed that you let yourself become so lost in thought.

“Sorry,” you apologized, quickly putting the bowl down.

“Is there something on your mind, child?” she asked, a slight smirk on her face.

Just by your flustered face, she could tell what you were thinking about.

Or rather, who.

She wasn’t blind to how you looked at Neteyam, or how Neteyam looked at you. She had known about your feelings for each other since you were children.

And since her grandson was fast approaching the age where he would become Olo’eyktan, she figured refining your healing abilities would improve your candidacy for Tsahik.

Not like anyone else held a candle to you in Neteyam’s eyes anyway.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I am just-.” You suddenly remembered why you had busied yourself with medicine-making in the first place.

“Nervous for the hunting party,” you told a hafl-truth, sighing as you picked up the next mushroom, dropping it in the bowl.

Jake was letting Neteyam lead the hunting party for the first time.

And to say you were nervous was an understatement.

“He will be fine. His father taught him well. And he has a fine healer waiting for him at home,” she knowingly smiled, pouring this small satchel of powder into her bowl.

You blushed, focusing back to your bowl at the woman’s implications.

Surely you hadn’t made it that obvious.

And by the grace of Eywa, the familiar scent of the man you love ( he had completed Iknimaya a while ago ) filled the healing room.

“Grandmother! (y/n)! You must come and see what we have brought back. You will never believe it’s size!” Neteyam exclaimed as he quickly opened the tent flaps, his voice beaming with happiness

You quietly laughed to yourself at his excited manner, feeling foolish for ever being worried in the first place.

You giddily turned around, only to be met with his proud, bloody-faced smile.

“Neteyam!” you worriedly gasped, frantically getting up an rushing over to him.

He had large scratches on his cheek, and one big slash on his chest, all of which left large stains of blood on his skin.

You quickly, and carefully, held his face in your hands, ignoring his insisting that he was fine as you turned it to see if there was any more damage.

“Are you alright? Does it hurt?”

Neteyam smiled to himself, stupidly, relishing in the feeling of your soft hands on his face.

He could feel himself heating up just by your closeness. And by this distance, he could see every beautiful feature on your face perfectly.

“Why are you smiling? This is serious! Please, sit down,” you ordered, taking your hands from his face and grabbing his forearm, walking him in the middle of the room and sitting him down.

Mo’at smiled, carefully placing her bowl on the floor and standing up. “I shall give you two a moment.”

And with that, she walked out the room, but not without shooting you a wink before closing the flaps.

You sighed, grabbing the bowl she put down and sitting in front of Neteyam.

“It does not hurt as bad as you think. Truly,” he smiled, your fussing over him making something stir inside his stomach.

“Well pain or not, I must put this on your wounds so they may heal properly,” you dismissed, scooping up a small glob of paste with your two fingers.

When you looked back up at him, you realized that you were too far away. In order for this medicine to work, it must be rubbed in well.

Neteyam looked at you, confused, as you took a deep breath, quickly sitting yourself in his lap, practically straddling him.

His breath hitched.

He had never had his crush sit on top of him before. Hell, you had never even been this close to him before.

Every part of him that was touching you was now heating up by the second, so much so that he’d thought he’d burn.

But looking at your face, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, like you had done this a million times before.

“I’m sorry, but I have to rub this in correctly,” you apologized, beginning to massage the paste into the cuts on his face.

“I have no complaints,” he smiled, resting his hands on your waist so you wouldn’t fall off.

When you got to a particularly large cut, he winced, the paste making the wound sting.

You smirked, giving him a soft flick on the forehead. “I know the future Olo’eyktan is not taken down by a little medicine.”

He smirked off the pain, looking you right in the eyes. “Never.”

You chuckled, moving on to next cut, when the mention of the position reminded you of your thoughts earlier.

But your thoughts soon turned for the worse.

“You are going to become Olo’eyktan soon. How do you feel?” you asked emptily, placing your two paste covered fingers on his chest.

He was concerned with your sudden mood change, but also loved the way your fingers felt on his skin, sending another stir to his stomach.

“It is exciting. And scary at the same time. I have so much to live up to,” he truthfully answered, looking down at himself.

You scooped some more paste on your fingers, giving him a quick glance.

“Well, you are not alone. You will have a Tsahik,” you sadly smiled, halting your massages on his wound.

You did not want to cry in front of him, but the tears were beginning to well.

“We have many that will surely be a good fit. Eyati is a strong hunter. And beautiful, too.”

It all clicked for Neteyam.

That was why you looked so sad. You believed he was going to chose someone else as his mate ( like he would ever ).

Amused, he laughed, slightly offended that you would ever think that anyone could take your place in his heart.

“What is so funny?” you asked softly, looking at him sad eyes, quite hurt that he was laughing.

He smiled, cupping your cheek in his hand.

“You talk of me mating with another woman as you sit in my lap, massaging my chest. My love, that is funny.”

My love?

His thumb caressed your cheek as he pulled you in closer, resting his forehead on yours.

“(y/n), I see no one better fit than you to be my Tsahik. You may not be a strong hunter, but you are a strong healer. And more beautiful than any woman I have ever seen. Eyati may be a good fit, but you are the one I wish to mate with, not her,” Neteyam spoke sincerely, his eyes not leaving you for a moment.

You were flustered to say the least.

You’d never thought you’d hear those words coming out of his mouth. And boy, did it sound amazing when they did.

“(y/n)...I see you,” he finished, smiling as you cupped his cheek, placing his hand on top of yours.

“I see you, Neteyam,” you smiled back, a few happy tears managing to slide down your cheeks.

That was all he needed before he roughly kissed you, pulling you in by the nape of your neck.

You kissed just as roughly, moving your hands down to his chest as he tilted his head, getting better angle on you.

He wrapped his tail around your thigh, you doing same, trying to keep each other as close together as possible.

But sooner or later, you had to breath.

The both of you separated, panting with smiles on your face as you rested on each other’s forehead again.

“Forget dinner. I want to take you to Utral Aymokriyä right now,” Neteyam seductively growled, wrapping you in his arms and standing up, twirling you around the room.

“Neteyam! You still have to heal!” you blushed, resting your hands on his chest as you buried your face in his shoulder in embarrassment.

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #atwow x reader #atwow #omitacaya

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callie-the-creator · 5 months

Text

sfw. warnings: obsessive behavior, slight stalking, jealousy, saiki uses his powers for selfish reasons, etc.

author’s note: oh, don’t mind me, just writing some headcanons if saiki was ever a yandere.

• you and saiki first met in chūgakkō, junior high, but he didn’t fall in love with you until a few years later when you two were already in pk academy. maybe it’s all the accidentally bumping into him, dropping your papers and saiki being the one to help you pick them up, making awkward eye contact in class, hanging out with one another outside of school, or touching on the same snack you both are aiming for at either the vending machine or at the store... all the things somehow have you involved these recent days and saiki is less than impressed at first

• saiki has always stated time and time again that he personally does not think he will not fall in love, so he always watches others who are in love and help them if he can, but here he is…completely captivated by you of all people. he didn’t know why though, was the author just really that bored?

• good grief

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦

• let it be known that he does possess the power to alter your perception of him. saiki could always just make you fall in love with him just like that…but…what’s the fun in that? no, no, he wouldn’t dream of doing that to you

— however, since saiki was born with the uncontrollable ability to read the minds of all living creatures in a multiple-mile radius…he can read your mind, he knows all of your favorite things, what you dislike, your hobbies, and your address. he didn’t mean to at first, but he did find your thoughts and imagination fascinating. he even finds himself listening to you during class like you’re his favorite podcast

• saiki is crazily protective over you.

— there was a time where you nearly got mugged! and when i say ‘nearly’, well, let’s just say you should be grateful saiki was there to protect you. can’t you see that he’ll always be here for you in a time of need? he’ll keep you safe, but only if you see that for yourself…

• saiki doesn’t think he’s the jealous type, but he will stop any other man who has a crush on you by any means necessary by either relentlessly embarrassing them for the rest of the day or wiping you from their memory because only saiki can have you. no one else. he doesn’t care how many people he has to make forget you to become your boyfriend

• what’s that? you wish it was a sunny day in japan instead of a rainy one? don’t you worry about a thing! saiki will handle that for you!

• stalking you is almost child’s play to saiki since he has so many powers to ensure you don’t spot him — shapeshifting, teleportation, you name it! but this is a good thing because you don’t have to worry about him being an aggressive type of yandere

— if he is following behind you when you’re walking home, i do think saiki would change to his female self, so you would be less scared

• once the author made you bring coffee jelly to school and willingly give it up to saiki after seeing him light up at the sight of it, saiki knew that he just had to marry you

• he could, quite literally, turn the world upside down for you if it meant that you’ll be with him.

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makyurini · 1 year

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Hi :). Ugh, I absolutely loved your könig fic. If it’s not too much trouble, König with a breeding kink?? tysm💕✨

when i tell you i've been absolutely bonkers lately thinking of this... you're an evil genius and i thank you for that <;3 (also couldn't resist little hints of obsessive behavior and maybe a teeny tiny bit of submissive könig for a few lines maybe perhaps)

cw/tw: NSFT, fem reader (AFAB anatomy, referred to as “mutter”, “mama”), talks of impregnating and being pregnant, könig kinda tosses reader around a lil bit, size kink, some marking (biting, scratching), a teeny tiny bit of choking if you squint, maybe even a lil bit of dumbification, very enthusiastic consent, implied no condom usage, not proof read bcoz my coochie wrote this, uhhh i think that's it?

König has never been one to try and push boundaries. Though he isn’t shy by any means when it comes to exploring things in the bedroom, he’s all too aware of how easy it would be to accidentally hurt you, and he’s not sure how he would cope with that guilt. He doesn’t think he could handle it, truth be told, because he’s gentle by nature; always placing tender kisses wherever his lips will reach while his fingers wander, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he lowers his cock into you, making sure to provide you with snacks and water and comfort after every time you’ve spent lost in each other. He’s worked hard to earn your trust, and he’d rather bite his own tongue off than have your faith in him waiver

But he can’t deny that there are times he wants to let loose a little, to throw caution to the wind and fuck you without a worry in the world, to toss the condom to the side and bury himself in you so deeply neither of you are sure where he ends and you begin. It’s damn near painful to hold himself back, bite marks marred into his bottom lip serving as evidence of his restraint, but he does it with pride

That is, until the night you tell him it’s okay to let inhibitions go and allow instinct to take over

“Mein schatz, you feel so good,” König pants into your ear as he continues to thrust into you. “S-S-So fucking good. Oh my god, schnucki, I want to stay inside of you forever”

Two weeks without seeing each other has left you leaving open-mouthed kisses on each other’s bodies before König could even fully unlace his boots, all hungry teeth clashing and tongues raving until clothes were strewn about and restraint was left at the doorway. Pictures and video chat could never replicate the peace of having him with you, hovering over you with his stormy eyes boring into yours, his heart slamming against his chest as if it were trying to reach you. König, your König, with his calloused hands caressing your thighs as he throws your legs over his shoulders. König with his scarred chest heaving and panting as he drills his throbbing cock into you. König with his addictive lips kissing and nibbling on your calves as you whine and wither beneath him. König with his rough voice spilling out praises and groans all over your body

König, König, König

Nothing could do him justice, truly, especially not blurry pictures and hushed phone calls late at night

“P-Please, König,” you whimper underneath him, and somehow find the strength to shimmy your legs down and attempt to wrap them around his waist, effectively trapping him. “Don’t stop! Don’t fucking stop, please”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” One of his hands comes down to cup your cheek, and you twist your face so you can kiss his calloused palm. A breath catches itself in his chest, and he lets out a low groan before dipping his head down into the crevice of your neck. “Do you know what you do to me, liebling, how crazy you make me? God, du bist schön” You are beautiful. And god, does he mean it. More beautiful than any sunset, any summer storm, any night sky he has ever had the privilege to see. He thinks you might be an angel. He knows, at the very least, one is envious of you

Your legs around him tighten, and he thinks for a moment he sees heaven. “Show me,” you pant and dig your nails into his back, earning a surprisingly loud moan from him. “Show me how crazy I make you, König”

His hips falter for only a moment, a concerned look flashing across his face. “Are you sure, schatz? I don’t know how much I can hold back”

“I don’t want you to. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to”

And there’s a set determination in your eyes, a challenge, that despite the fact that you’re already covered in a thin blanket of sweat and your thighs and calves are littered with bite marks, you still think he’ll hold back. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to. But what if that means hurting you on accident? What if it means leaving more marks than either of you are prepared to take care of? What if it means you’ll never be able to trust him the same way again?

As if sensing his hesitance, you squeeze your thighs again, forcing him to look you in the eye; and when he does, all he can see is love and trust shining in your irises and that, he thinks, no matter what happens, he never wants you look at him any differently. That if he could, he’d take a snapshot of that expression and put it in a locket to hold close to his heart. Precious, so precious. He never wants to lose it, to lose you, to ever stray so far from you that he forgets what it's like to love and be loved in return. So he does the only thing he can think of in that moment: he presses your legs down so your knees are nearly touching your ears, and sets a near back-breaking pace as he thrusts his cock into you

It’s absolutely carnal the way he grabs and pulls at you, how easy it is for him to pin you down exactly where he wants you, how he can bend and twist your body in ways you didn’t even think possible. One hand twists and pinches at your nipples, the other grips the meat of your thigh to keep in you in place, and he's sure this is what heaven must feel like. Pretty sounds fall from your lips and crash against him like a hurricane, and he's never been more thankful to be a human before this moment, basking in everything you provide him with, bottling every little noise fluttering out of you and bottling it away for safe-keeping

“König,” you cry out, shaking hands gripping onto the sheets beneath you for some sense of stability. “König, fuck, f-feels so good, so full”

His eyes roll to the back of his head, hips slapping into the back of your thighs and fingers digging into your flesh more. “Oh gott, liebe, tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel. Tell me how much you need me. Tell me, schatz, tell me you want all of me like I want all of you”

Your fingers are nearly splitting through your skin with how tightly you’re holding onto the last few shreds of sanity, red mist dousing your bodies as evidence of your dedication and passion. He’s so pretty above you, all low growls and moans as he’s losing himself inside of you more and more, begging for just a little more. Tell me how much you love me so I feel okay about how obsessed I am with you. I’ll crack my ribcage open for you, just tell me how pretty red looks on me

“Wan’ all of you, König,” you babble underneath him, voice wobbly with tears and carnality. “Need you so bad! Please, need everything from you! Fuck me pregnant for all I fucking care, as long as it’s yours!”

It’s as though a beast takes over König's body, one he thought he kept locked away from you, far enough to never come close, hidden enough that he often forgets it’s there, claws capped and mouth muzzled as to not be tempted to listen to its growls. He isn’t sure what sends him over, whether it was hearing how desperate you are to cum or to hear you wouldn’t mind him getting you pregnant. In one swift movement, König has you sitting in his lap and is bouncing your limp body on his cock, trembling legs wrapped around his waist and heavy head leaning on his broad shoulder for support. He’s not quite gentle with you, not quite rough, just enough to let you know he’s a man on a mission to have you nice and round with his child

“Look so pretty,” he coos in your ear, the rough sound of skin slapping skin a direct [contradiction] to the tenderness in his tone. “You’d look so pretty with a big belly, yeah? Wearing my shirts and waddling around. Gonna be a good mama, aren’t you? Gonna be the best mutter to our pretty lil’ baby, hm?” His accent grows thicker and thicker the closer and closer he gets to the edge, and you find yourself squeezing down on him even more, without a thought, without a care, so long as you can milk him for every last drop. “Tell me, mama, who do you think the baby will look like more, hm? Do you think it’ll be tall as me? Have your nose? Gott, I hope it has your laugh. Tell me, mama, tell me you can’t wait to be the mutter of my child. Tell me you want to be pregnant and full with my baby. Tell me, mama, tell me, please”

“Wan’ be the mother of your child,” you manage to slur, face nestled in the crook of his neck and breathing in his musky scent as his balls slap against the swell of your ass, legs shaking the more the knot in your guts tighten. “Fuck, König, wan’ you to take care of me while I’m so pregnant I can’t do anything for myself. Wan’ you to fret over me and spoil me so our baby comes out happy and healthy”

And suddenly, König is wrapping his arms around you and squeezing onto you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. A part of you suspects that’s true. Another part, a part you’d rather ignore, hopes it’s true

“Ich komme gleich,” his rough voice pierces your ears. I’m going to cum. “Please, schatz, ich will in dir kommen” I want to cum inside you. “Lass mich in dir kommen, bitte, ich flehe dich an” Let me cum inside of you, please, I'm begging

“Cum, liebste, cum, cum, cum, please! Fuck, I’m gonna cum with you”

Your cries mix with his whines, and, just as abruptly as it all began, you’re both spilling over each other, praises and pleas and moans and whimpers pouring over your bodies and cocooning you in warmth and safety. Though he trembles beneath you, König gently nudges your forehead off of his shoulder so he can place a gentle kiss on your nose, then your cheek, and finally your lips, his cock spurting the last of his cum inside of you

Once he's sure you're both fucked out and blissful, he slides you off of his lap in order to inspect the mess on his thighs. Unsurprising to the both of you, some of his cum has managed to leak out of you, but he scoops it up and carefully slides it back into you, already half-hard at the thought of possibly fucking it back in you instead

“Do you really think I’d make a good mom?” you ask after he’s fetched you some water and a snack to nibble on. “Or was that just your way of going bareback?”

He playfully wrinkles his nose at your remark, and grins when you let out a snort. “I think you’d make the best mutter.” And his voice is so benevolent, full of so much adoration and love, that you can’t help but shyly smile up at him. He’s quick to place a chaste kiss on the crown of your head before getting up to wipe the sweat that gathered on his body, and you quickly swat at his bottom before he has a chance to dodge your hand

“What if I’m not pregnant though?”

The grin he flashes at you is such a perfect mixture of boyish and wolfish that, just for a breath, you forget what his profession is and good at it he is. “Then we’ll have to keep trying, won’t we?”

You have a funny feeling you’re going to be awfully busy for the next few months.

Reblogs/comments are always appreciated! ♡

#one day i'll be able to write smut without mutual obsession themes #today is not that day <3 #könig x reader #könig cod #könig smut #konig #konig imagine #konig modern warfare #konig x reader #konig cod #konig smut #könig modern warfare #♡.mine!#namedaftertheweather

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waitingonher · 3 months

Text

NIGHTS LIKE THESE — [hoo boys drabbles]

summary: how they react to your bad dreams.

author's note: i wrote leo's + jason's part imagining that the cabins/barracks have individual rooms sooo...also ik this trope is so ran through in the pjo fandom but it's just toooo good i couldn't help myself

percy jackson

percy has always been the type of person to pick up the phone no matter the time. even as he’s on a lone movie marathon and the scene reaches its long-anticipated climax, he’s reaching for his buzzing phone that’s lost beneath the sheets. having found it after the third ring, percy checks the time and the caller id. why are you calling him so late? he answers, “hi babe. i thought you had to wake up early this morning, why are you awake?”

“hi percy,” your voice was shaky and congested, as if you’d been crying. percy immediately sits up, alarmed at the state of your voice, “did i wake you up?”

“no, no, i was up watching movies. what’s wrong? is everything okay?” he’s seated at the edge of his bed now, anxiously awaiting your response.

you force him to sit in silence as you think of an excuse, “yeah, um…i’m okay. i just wanted to hear your voice. but i’ll see you on thursday, okay? goodni-”

“(y/n), what’s going on?” percy runs a hand through his hair as he heads out of his room to his kitchen. he rips off a napkin from the roll and snatches a pen from the drawer. on the napkin, he writes a brief message to sally, saying that he’d be over at your place and not to worry.

“nothing. i’m fine, percy,” you mutter. but your boyfriend knows you too well. the way your voice quivers makes it sound as though you were trying to convince yourself that everything was okay, and you were failing miserably.

percy places his phone between his ear and shoulder as he ties his shoes, “don’t leave me in the dark, (y/n).”

“don’t worry about me. i’m fine it was just-”

“babe, i’m coming over, okay?” and with that, percy hangs up.

he’s walked this path over a hundred times, usually for dropping you off after dates or simply for hanging out with you. but this time, all percy can think about is how you sounded over the phone and that he needs to seriously pick up the pace.

upon arrival, percy climbs up the fire escape ladder as quickly and quietly as possible. it’s only now that he’s grateful for his experience from all of those laborious quests. reaching your floor, he knocks delicately on the glass.

“percy, what are you doing here?” you ask after he closes your window, “i’m sorry, you really didn’t need to come all this way. it’s like three in the morning and you-”

your boyfriend silences you with a gentle kiss, “i’m okay. it’s you i’m worried about. what’s wrong?”

“it was just a dream.”

“just a dream?”

“yes, it was just a stupid dream.”

percy grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look at him, “(y/n), you’re one of the strongest people i know. so if you were crying over it, then it really must be something.”

you slump on your bed, and percy joins beside you. it's no use hiding it from percy, so with a sigh, you confess, “well, you’re here now. but it just felt so real,” your eyes begin to prick with tears again, “you were laying on the floor…and there was just so much blood, and i tried to stop it—i really did try—but it just kept coming and there was nothing else i could do.”

honestly, percy didn’t know what to say. but he did know that if your dream was anything like the ones he had about you, they were emotionally and physically crushing. so, he decides that if he can’t say anything, he’d rather show you. percy gently guides your body, until the both of you are laying down. with a strong arm wrapped around your figure and the other rubbing slow circles on your back, he can only hope you understand the message he’s trying to convey.

“i’m here, (y/n). everything’s going to be okay,” percy continues to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. slowly but surely, your crying mellows into only soft sniffles.

as you lay on his chest, you can feel the rise and fall of his breathing body. it wasn’t at all like that dream of yours; his cold body eerily still on the floor. not at all like that. you allow yourself to slowly drift off with the rise and fall of his chest, strangely as if it were its own lullaby, “thank you, percy,” you manage to whisper.

“i love you, (y/n). i’m not leaving you, ever. i promise,” percy whispers back.

leo valdez

leo’s used to waking up several times in the middle of the night. considering the demigod dreams, he hasn’t remembered the last time he’s gotten a full night's rest, which is why he’s not surprised to be awake at the crisp hour of two a.m. he can’t even remember the dream this time, but leo bets it was another dream foreseeing his imminent death or the end of the world.

as he stares at the pipes and wires running along the ceiling of bunker 9, a familiar ringtone sounds from his phone. leo quickly wipes the sleep from his eyes and picks up the phone from his nightstand, “(y/n)? are you okay? it’s so late.”

there’s a silence, followed up by quiet sniffles. were you crying? “hi leo, i’m sorry i probably woke you up didn’t i? go back to sleep, i was-”

“no i was already awake, what’s wrong?” the moment your boyfriend noticed your shaky voice, his attitude completely changed. suddenly awake and full of energy, he tears off his blanket and reaches for his hoodie and shoes.

considering the fact that you never really call so late alarms him. you calling either meant that you had a nightmare or you were hurt…and leo prayed it was the dream.

“i’m sorry…” you take a deep breath, “i just had a bad dream, like one of those dreams, you know?” leo knows all too well what you’re talking about, and if it’s anything close to the dreams he has, he can only imagine what you’re feeling, “but i swear i’m okay now. i’ll see you later?”

but leo’s already out the door as you finish your explanation, “i’m coming over, stay there.”

“wait leo-”

he hung up.

the trek through the forest was usually something one would avoid, especially at this hour, but leo couldn't give less of a shit as he thinks about you crying in your room. a few minutes later after practically sprinting to your cabin, he arrives. locating the window to your room was easy, he’d done this several times before for your sleepovers. leo knocks as quietly as he can on the glass, hoping he doesn’t disturb any of your other siblings.

surprised, you pull your curtain aside and are face to face with none other than your boyfriend. he looks sweaty and out of breath. leo ran all this way? pushing your question to the side, you rush to open the window and let him in.

for the first time, leo really gets a good look at you. your eyes are red and puffy; you look at him with such desperation and he can’t help but pull you into a rib-cracking hug.

“you actually came.”

“what? of course i did, (y/n),” he takes your face into his hands, rubbing soft circles on each cheek. suddenly, tears begin to flow freely down your face. was it something he said? was he not supposed to come?

you pick up on his confusion, “i’m sorry, i’m just…glad you’re alive,” leo sits you on your bed, and continues to wipe away the tears, his concern growing with each passing second. your boyfriend urges you to go on, “it’s just the same thing every night. i’m at your grave on the hill, and i’m all alone and it’s raining and i just-”

“(y/n), breathe,” leo pulls you into his chest once more. he holds you so impossibly tight, ensuring that you know he’s there and he doesn’t plan to ever leave. his sacrifice during the final battle against gaia will forever be amongst one of leo’s biggest regrets. not because he had saved the world, but because of how hard it impacted you. without a doubt, you could easily say that those months where leo was gone were the hardest times of your life. and not a day goes by where leo thinks he can ever forgive himself for it, “i’m here. i’m alive.”

you nod, your sobs turning into quiet hiccups. leo moves the two of you guys to be laying down, and as final reassurance, he gently guides your hand under his hoodie, allowing you to feel his steady heartbeat. your boyfriend’s skin is warm to the touch and you count his heartbeat…one…two…three. and that was proof enough, “you’re alive.”

“i am,” leo soothes. he places a gentle kiss atop your head and pulls the covers over your bodies. his arms wrap tightly around your figure, holding you close, “sleep, (y/n). i’ll be here in the morning.”

jason grace

it’s late nights like these that jason has slowly come to appreciate. these scarce nights where he’s completed his praetor duties for the night and he allows himself to indulge in some self-care, which usually consists of a cup of hot herbal tea and a good book.

usually, jason prefers historical books, oftentimes concerning roman myths or the occasional diary of some war general. what can he say? he likes to be all-knowing when it comes to these things. but this time, as he’s curled up in his bed, he reaches for the book that you had recommended to him: a classic romance novel. jason laughs to himself as he recalls you teasing him about his taste in literature. if he remembers correctly, you called him a “history-loving freak?”

just as jason’s about to open the book, an unexpected ringing sounds from his phone. he huffs, momentarily disapointed. that is, until he sees who’s calling, “(y/n)? hi, are you okay?”

“oh, hi,” jason noticed the way your voice sounded off, like you’d been crying, “i didn’t think you’d actually answer.”

confused, he puts the book back on his nightstand, “of course i would, my love. what’s going on? you sound like you’ve been crying.”

“no, everything’s okay i just…” you pause, “had a bad dream, so i wanted to listen to your voicemail.”

jason’s heart squeezes at the thought of you going so far as to listen to his own ten second voicemail as a method of comfort. but the feeling goes away just as quickly as it came upon hearing you had a nightmare, “oh i’m sorry, my love. do you want me to come over?”

“no,” you reply, “it’s okay. i’m better now that i’ve heard your voice. you can go back to bed, jason.”

despite you declining his offer, jason’s already up and putting his shoes on, “i’ll be there in a few, okay? i love you,” and he hangs up.

within a handful of minutes, jason reaches your cohort’s barracks. the square windows look impossibly similar, but it’s all thanks to practice that he recognizes yours. even as praetor, he still has to enforce the rules and sneak around. with a quiet knock on your window, he waits in the dark for you.

“you’re here. you’re alive, jason,” is all you can muster up as your boyfriend stands tall inside your room. his expression is clearly written with worry as he closes the gap between you with a hug. as hard as you tried to fight it, the tears came again in a fresh wave.

“yeah, i’m here, (y/n). i’m not leaving,” he replies, concern laced in his words. jason notices your tears and gently wipes them away, “c’mere, tell me about your dream,” he beckons, guiding you towards the bed. with a gentle plop, he settles down and opens his arms, inviting you to join him.

settling against jason’s chest, you take a shaky breath as he places kisses on your temple, “i was at your funeral, and you looked so peaceful, like you were sleeping. i just can’t stop thinking about how you looked asleep. and then they expected me to, you know, give a speech in front of the entire camp about you, and i just…i can’t imagine a world without you, so please, you can’t leave me like that.”

“woah, woah, (y/n) i’m okay, breathe,” jason hushes you, rubbing soft circles on your arm. to be frank, he’s pretty shocked about what you had just said. he can’t get over how shaken up you are by this. but jason can’t even blame you, because if it were him who had the dream, he bets he would also be like this, “i’m here and i have no plan of ever leaving, okay? i’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life,” he jokes, hoping to get at least a smile from you.

jason’s joke succeeds as he feels your body shake with a quiet giggle, “good. i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

your boyfriend checks your face once more, ensuring that you’ve stopped crying. seeing that you have, he places delicate kisses on each cheek, “hey, how about we go to sleep now? i’ll read you that book,” jason motions to the book on your nightstand, which happens to be the same one you recommended him.

you nod tiredly, “only if you do different voices for each character.”

“of course, only for you,” jason quips.

after adjusting your bodies, jason reaches for the book and opens it to chapter one. but before he begins, he pulls the covers completely over your body and places a chaste kiss on your forehead, “i love you so much, (y/n). and i hope you know that i’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

#percy jackson #leo valdez #jason grace #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez x reader #jason grace x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson imagine #heroes of olympus x y/n #heroes of olympus x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace fluff

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