#i litterally had this in my head this morning

[royaltozaki]

hickeys and swimsuits

sana x fem!reader - trailer ▸ part 1 ▸ part 2

synposis: day 3 on the set of the bachelorette and y/n has to deal with sleeping with her best friend, a messy group date, and a tender evening.

warnings: teensy bit of smut (a quickie in the bathroom), allude to sexual harassment

w/c: 7.7k

a/n: can you tell i dislike suju? you’ll probably be able to after this LOL

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

the decision to leave or stay if you’re the first one awake after a one night stand will always be unnecessarily difficult. luckily, or maybe not depending on how you look at it, sana’s grip on you would not allow for you to escape anytime soon so you let yourself be held, your head resting on top of hers, arms thrown lazily over her side.

you’re not really sure what came over you last night. after she had kissed you, you felt a need to finish what she started. you didn’t regret it though, but you were still yet to unentangle your feelings for her and what this meant for the both of you. if it even meant anything at all, it would be easy to brush it off as a spur of the moment decision built on pent up anger and lust from being untouched for so long. at least for you anyway, you weren’t sure when the last time sana slept with someone was, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it was with jihyo, she wasn’t really one for sleeping with people without knowing them first. but maybe you were wrong, you were learning so much more about her in these last two days than you have in years of knowing her.

you’re a little unnerved thinking about the amount of people sana has slept with. taking slight satisfaction in the purple marks that littered her neck, and the rest of her body knowing that you were the reason for them.

sana’s eyes slowly flutter open as you’re tracing one of these marks and she yawns, stretching with an adorable mewl and collapsing back into you.

“mmorning.” she mumbles into your chest, voice deep and laden with sleep and you can’t help but find it unbelievably attractive.

you brush your fingers through her hair, sorting through her knots. “morning…”

you lie there for a few moments, daring each other to speak first.

she’s the one who breaks the silence, always the one with more initiative, proven last night by kissing you first, “so……… should we talk about this?”

you hum, “if you’re ready for it.”

she whines against you, lightly hitting your chest, “stop that. i wanna know what you think without deflecting to me.”

you chuckle, “sorry, but yeah it’d probably be good to talk about it. i guess we can start with, um… well did you… regret it?” you can’t help the way your heart rate picks up, maybe you weren’t really ready to brush this off as a one time thing after all.

she places a hand over your chest, right where your heart would be, looking up at you with those eyes that you could drown in, “no. i don’t regret it. do you?”

you smile at her, thankful for the reassurance she offers, “no, i don’t either.”

she smiles back at you, her fingers drumming lightly over your heart, “is this… like… what does this mean for us? because i don’t want anything to change between us, i care about you too much to lose you as my best friend.”

you frown, “i care about you too… i mean… i don’t really know, like you’re still the bachelorette of the country right now like… how do you feel about that?”

“i’m enjoying getting to know these people. some of them really do have potential i think. this timing just kinda sucks huh?”

your heart drops a little at her honesty. you start thinking maybe its time to be a little honest to yourself.

“it does but that doesn’t mean i wanna just ignore this happened sana. i don’t think…” you sigh, thoughts all muddled and on the tip of your tongue.

her hand is trailing patterns up and down your bare back, looking at you with wide eyes. you would do anything to keep that face happy.

“you’re right. the timing does kinda suck. i guess we can just… keep this casual? assuming you want this to happen again?”

she nods, but an expression washes over her face that you can’t really decipher. “alright. casual. we can do that. just like, when we need a little stress relief or whatever.”

you nod, “and it’s just temporary until like you find your person here. wouldn’t want you to be sexually frustrated or pent up or anything and make decisions based on who you wanna fuck most right?”

“right! so you’re doing me an even bigger favour right now!”

“yep!”

you’re both laying there awkward now, talking in circles convincing yourself this was a good idea.

a loud knock comes at the door, and you’re both jumping, splitting to opposite sides of the bed. you look at each other a little awkwardly, you let out a small chuckle before getting up and pulling some clothes on haphazardly and answering the door.

it's one of the costume designers, "oh! y/n! sorry i didn't know you were in there, is sana around? it's time to get changed and start the filming for today."

you hum and let the woman in with her entourage of makeup and hair stylists.

but then one of the makeup artists quickly gasps as sana reveals her neck.

you turn around and blush, sana's still naked as the day she was born, there was no reason to put on clothes when she was going to get changed into new ones anyway, her blanket falling to her waist exposing the carnage that was the evidence of last night's activities.

the people in the room look awkwardly between the two of you, and you clear your throat and walk out, giving them some privacy, your head bowed and beet red as you make your way to the kitchen.

you dimly heard some scolding from the makeup artists, but thankfully no one came after you to tell you off or anything. hopefully the design team could keep this little secret under wraps, although you could hear the gossip and rumours going around already. you'd have to be more careful going forward.

sana's got an individual date first on the schedule today. so you decide to head over to the contestants' living area after you finish your breakfast and get dressed.

the drive over is short and you enjoy the light breeze from the slightly open window. you remember the slip of paper miyeon slipped you last night, pulling it out of your pocket and typing the digits into your phone.

you're not sure what the first message you should send her is. you're hit with the sudden realisation that outside of this show she was a literal model, she probably had thousands of followers and a life of her own with friends far above your social standing.

but she wouldn't give you her number only for you to discard it right? whatever, this wasn't anything to overthink, and you wanted to check in on how miyeon was doing anyway, you quickly type out a message and hit send.

y/n: hi this is y/n - how are you? settling back in at home okay? lmk if u ever want a chat or anything i'm here <3

you're surprised at her quick reply.

miyeon: hi y/n! it's good to hear from you. yeah honestly had the best night's sleep in so long, living in the mansion with all the others is fine and all but sharing rooms with sanghee was so not. that girl did not know how to clean up after herself and had the worst sleep schedule

you laugh a little at her antics.

y/n: right forgot you were kinda prissy. dunno if i feel bad for sanghee or you

miyeon: hey!!! i am NOT prissy! idc what ppl say abt beauty sleep and whatnot but you DO need it! proper quality sleep has been proven to improve skin, regulate emotions, and keep your brain sharp! it's a really important part of the day!

y/n: yeah yeah yeah i'm rolling my eyes btw since you can't see. but im glad ur feeling better rested miyeon, its gonna be real weird without you here now

miyeon: hey u got this. and im only a text or call away if u want a break from everything going on inside, ik how crazy it gets in there so having some outside perspective can be good for you

y/n: and im really grateful for that. thankyou miyeon <3 r u gonna watch the screening of last night's ep later?

miyeon: u mean do i wanna watch myself get eliminated? i think ill pass on that thx 😂 but the contestants always watch it tgt if u wanna join them - good to have some ppl to watch along with especially since its pretty jarring seeing everyone on the big screen and how things r all edited tgt. and seeing sana may come as a shock to u too u never know

y/n: yeah ur right im actually headed there rn since sana's going on a solo date and i have nothing better to do soo... also oopsies spoiler alert but ur not gonna leak anything to the media right ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

miyeon: who knows... call me prissy one more time and ur name's gonna be on the national headlines tmr fr ;P

y/n: u wouldnt!

miyeon: i would. jks ofc i wouldn't but since ur going to the mansion anyway make sure to talk to shindong and siwon and their whole boys club. now that im out i can give u all the inside goss and if sana ends up with one of those dicks well...

y/n: oo tyty ill be sure to keep that in mind

miyeon: ofc y/n rmbr anything u need we're friends yeah? don't be a stranger :)

y/n: thanks miyeon i rly do appreciate it! talk later :))

you turn off your phone, happy that miyeon was just as receptive and positive in the real world as she was when you were together. you had nothing to worry about after all.

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

the house is in complete mayhem as you step inside. apparently someone had accidentally set off the fire alarms so everyone was already up and about and still mopping up wet patches here and there.

you spot jacky and eunji in the kitchen and make a beeline for them.

“-if you had just kept your pants on!-“

“no don’t blame this on me you know very well that i need to air dry or i’m gonna get sick and i won’t be able to perform-“

you clear your throat interrupting their… certainly intriguing conversation.

“y/n! please tell eunji it is perfectly normal to air dry after a shower.”

“not when you’re living with 15 other people!”

“i’ve lived with more than that back home and they didn’t have a problem with it!”

“because you australians are always half naked for some reason or another anyway. but you can't pull that shit here!”

jacky rolls his eyes and goes back to flipping the eggs he’s got in a pan, no doubt making lunch for the them and the rest of the contestants.

“have you eaten yet y/n? there was a bit of an accident this morning so the kitchen’s been off limits until now.”

“oh yeah i ate before i came here, thanks though. how are you guys today?”

they share a glance, “i think you’re the one who should be answering that question. heard sana made you go home after the stunt you pulled last night.”

with everything that happened you’d almost forgotten how the night actually ended for most of the other contestants.

“oh right!" you laugh a little awkwardly, "we made up so everything’s all good now. i’ll probably be laying off the alcohol for the rest of these rose ceremonies though…”

“awwwh but you’re the only one who can keep up with me! all the other guys here tap out soo early and none of the girls want to drink.”

you laugh, grabbing some plates to help jacky and eunji plate up the food they’ve prepared.

jacky’s yelling at everyone to come get their food and you follow along, greeting everyone and moving towards the couch where they were setting up to watch last night’s episode of the bachelorette along with the rest of the country. it was being aired earlier in the day today because it was the weekends and the highest stream counts for the weekends would be at this time.

you slot yourself in next to jiwon who offers a kind smile, the complete opposite of the stink eye you feel heechul giving the back of your head after you’d essentially tried to get him eliminated last night.

jun is setting up the tv and when everything’s ready he rushes back over and plops himself down on the other side of you, throwing an arm over your shoulder in a friendly greeting and looking back to heechul and the boys club as miyeon called them, flipping them off with a tongue sticking out in defense of you. you laugh with him as heechul sputters and the episode starts playing.

most of it you had already seen, although you got to hear a bit more of sana and jiwon’s conversation during the childcare group date after you’d left, as well as her conversations with the other contestants on that date. she seemed to get along with everyone there, and the kids were a good conversation sparker, sana had picked a good bunch for the first group date. the camera spent most of its time following her around as you’d expect, but it included a couple comedic clips of the others being terrible with kids. you’re all laughing and teasing each other when you see dae fall into a pit of mud after a purposeful ploy from the kids, and aww and coo when jiwon finally lies them all to rest during their afternoon nap.

the episode also includes a few cuts to the contestants in the mansion, the ones who weren't picked for the group date, so you get to see a little of how they function as a house as well.

then comes the solo date.

everyone's a little curious at what wonsik did to woo sana to get him that first impression rose from the first night. he's still just as shy and awkward as you remember from your first few interactions with him on the first night, not that that isn't what sana likes, she just usually goes for the louder, boisterous types, especially on a first impression since those are the ones that draw people's attention around them.

the date was just as extravagant as the producers said it would be. they definitely spared no expense, and from the stats you overheard them talking about, this season of the bachelorette was definitely hyping up to be the most successful season so far, it had even gained international attention for its unique approach.

after sana and wonsik's helicopter ride overlooking the valley, they were situated in a beautiful dip in the valley, overlooking lush green fields with a soft breeze and the sunset in the background.

admittedly it was cute watching them play board games and feed each other small fruits, and apparently wonsik was a much better conversationalist when he was in one-on-one situations, even cracking a few jokes that had you and the rest of the watchers laughing.

you couldn't help the pit of jealousy growing in your stomach though. you could finally realise what it was and call it jealousy but it was probably just because you were more involved with sana than ever now and you weren't good with the whole non-exclusive thing. it would take some time getting used to for sure.

but your jaw clenches when suddenly, screen-wonsik is kissing sana.

everyone in the room starts whooping and clapping wonsik on the back. you can hear the mc voice-over talking about how this was the first kiss of the season and that wonsik was a lucky guy to be getting in so early but you drown everything out as you watch the camera zoom in romantically, hyperfixated on the way sana's lips reacted against his.

he's got a hand at her waist, shuffling in closer and she has a hand carding into his hair, your eye twitches when you think you see a hint of a pink tongue dipping in.

he's laying her down and crawling on top of her on the picnic mat and it feels way too intimate for national television and you couldn't hear the sounds she could be making but you sure as hell can imagine the soft whimpers and gasps because she was making those sounds for you just hours after what was happening on the screen right now.

finally the camera pans away to a long shot of the two of them against the backdrop of the sunset and the valley and cuts to another scene of the mansion contestants but the liplock seemed to never end, even after the camera stopped shooting.

wonsik looks terribly embarassed when you turn to where all the commotion is behind you, people congratulating him on how his date went, asking for any more details that the editing could have left out, some looking on in jealousy, and some looking a little sad.

everyone's attention is shifted however when momo walks in through the door, back from her solo date with sana this morning.

all of a sudden, people are rushing towards her, asking how her date went, what they did, whether or not they kissed, poor momo looks very overwhelmed but she's not entirely focused, looking behind her and smiling.

and then again, the attention shifts, sana walking in with a bright smile, in casual clothes and jeans, waving a bright greeting at everyone.

you're still sat exactly where you are, emotions festering up inside of you.

"wow it's crazy to be here during the day! hey guys! just dropping off momo and checking in on how everyone's doing."

the excitement of the morning culminates, and its almost like a rose ceremony again, with everyone vying for sana's attention, wanting to show her around, leading her out towards the gardens, talking and chattering eagerly.

eventually, you're left inside with momo, who offers a polite wave, sitting down across from you, wonsik, who was too shy to join everyone on the tour of the house, and heechul, siwon, shindong, and seungri, the 'boys club'.

seungri's laughing boisterously, congratulating wonsik on his date with sana.

"congrats man. wouldn't have known you had it in you. did you guys get up to anything else?" he's wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. you're disgusted.

"n-no. she pushed me off pretty much as soon as the camera cut away."

"aww really? cockblock much?" shindong's snickering along.

heechul's shuffling a little closer to momo, "how about you momo? how was your date? you didn't miss that much by the way, wonsik and sana kissed yesterday on the date, that's when you walked in." he tries to offer her a kind smile, but you notice the way she's cringing, moving a little closer towards you.

"it was good. we went to a dog shelter which was really sweet of her since she knows i love them and i've been missing my two dogs back home. even had my allergy meds ready because i didn't know what we'd be doing today, shows she really listens."

you smile at momo's response, glad to hear their date went well and your heart warming learning about sana's actions.

the boys had stopped listening halfway through, going back to teasing wonsik so it was really just you and momo talking.

"yeah we also got to talking a lot since we're both from japan and all. it was really nice to be with someone who understood what it felt like to move here and be homesick, it was also the first time in a long time that i had spoken to someone in japanese that wasn't my family so it was pretty funny, well at least for her, to watch me make an absolute fool of myself stumbling over basic words and phrases."

you're laughing, knowing how much sana cares about her heritage, you were glad momo was here to be able to share that with her, you were firsthand witness to some of sana's homesickness bouts and you knew having a sense of a home away from home was extremely valuable.

"oh?" heechul butts into the conversation again, "nico nico nii~! momo-chan wa onii-chan de yonde mo ii-yo~" (t: momo you can call me big brother)

you and momo both stare at heechul for a few seconds in silence, trying to decipher what the fuck you just saw with your bare eyes, before bursting into laughter.

he looks confused, breaking his cutesy character pose and pouting and whining, "what! did i say it wrong?"

you're wiping tears off the side of your eyes, "what the fuck kinda hentai have you been watching to learn that shit heechul-"

momo's still laughing, her nose scrunching cutely, "no like! i get the nico thing like that was huge in japan like in 2015- still weird as fuck to see a grown man doing it ten years later though-"

you're both laughing between words, drawing the attention of the other occupants of the house who are rounding out back towards the living room after finishing the house tour.

sana looks curious as she's led over, "momoring, what's so funny?"

momo's turning and grinning at the sight of sana, pulling on her arm and leading her in front of heechul, "heechul do it again! for sana pleaseeeee-" she turns on the extra charm, hitting him with a final, "onegai~?" and you could see the imaginary nosebleed he gets from the action, the type that's edited into animes.

so he puts his hands up, fingers placed in the signature nico position, "nico nico nii~! sana-chan wa onii-chan de yonde mo ii-yo~"

the repeat of his absolutely embarrassing gesture sends both you and momo into another fit of laughter, clutching onto each other in weakness.

sana's face goes red and she looks to be supressing her own laughter, but she gives in eventually, letting out a loud bark and slapping momo on the back with her hand, the other hand over her mouth.

some others laugh as well, whether at the cutesy action heechul pulled, or from understanding what onii-chan meant and putting two and two together.

heechul just stands there looking awfully proud of himself for being the 'funny' guy for once.

eventually, a producer walks in, tapping sana and sliding an envelope into her hand, and gestures for all the participants to sit down.

sana clears her throat, still giggling a little as she moves towards the front of the room, "well thankyou everyone for the tour of your lovely place. i hope you all enjoy the rest of your stay here. i've got this envelope in my hand now, with the names of the next group date we'll be going on." she waves the envelope around a little, and everyone plays their part, ooh-ing and waiting in anticipation, "8 people here will be helping me out with the iconic photoshoot date!"

all the participants look around excitedly, the photoshoot date was always a fan-favourite, and it always made an appearance on every bachelor episode, usually with a few group photo shoots and always with a one-on-one photoshoot that's super romantic and revered after.

sana lets the anticipation and excitement settle in, before dramatically pulling out the piece of paper within the envelope, unfolding it, and beginning to read out names, "sunwoo."

sunwoo stands up with a smile, moving over towards sana at the usher of the producers' hands, sana returns the smile.

"eunha." a short girl with a bubbly personality skips over.

"onii-chan~" sana teasingly drags out the word and you stifle a few laughs with momo as heechul beams and stalks forward.

"siwon, shindong, seungri, nayeon."

they all stand up and walk over, you notice sana has picked people that haven't been on a date yet.

"and... wonsik!"'

there's a bit of a stunned silence across the room as wonsik gets up and approaches sana, kissing her on the cheek and taking his place next to her.

wonsik was the only person in that lineup that had already had extended one-on-one time with sana, when some others like jihyo, (although you didn't really mind much that jihyo hasn't been picked for anything yet), hadn't had the opportunity for any time outside of this mansion. so it did seem a little unfair.

you feel your earlier emotions returning to you, the incredulity of heechul's actions completely forgotten as you think back to the full-blown make out session you, along with the rest of the nation had witnessed only an hour ago.

sana's giving a few general closing remarks, telling the chosen group date members what they need to prepare, and saying she'll be waiting for them out front once they're done gathering their things.

you can tell the mood's been a bit sullied as the chosen contestants rush up towards their rooms to change and get ready, the leftover participants left sitting on their hands with nothing to do for the rest of the day.

you say your quick goodbyes, heading off after sana since you would be tagging along on this date as usual.

once you see her though, something comes over you, the heavy, yucky emotions boiling up, and you pull on her arm, a little roughly, and drag her to the nearest bathroom.

"y/n?! what-"

you shut her up, pinning her against the door, locking it and connecting your lips frantically.

she gasps into you, but melts almost immediately, kissing you back with the same amount of intensity.

your tongue peeks out, swiping lightly across her bottom lip, she gasps, and you take the opportunity to gently prod your tongue into her mouth. her tongue comes up to meet yours and she moans when they touch, her hands coming up to grip onto your shoulders.

you're reminded of the fact that someone else was fortunate enough to hear these sounds yesterday.

and you despise it. snarling slightly, you break away, leaning down to kiss along her jawline, "you moan like that for him too hmm?"

she's breathless and confused, her mind muddled with the sudden attack, "w-what? who? huh?" she cuts herself off with another moan as you find the sensitive spot behind her ear that you discovered last night.

"you know- shy little wonsik." you take an earlobe between your teeth, spitting out the name, hands starting to move, grasping her waist, thumbing the bottom of her shirt.

"w-what? n-no- ah! no i-"

"no? you sure you're not lying? looked like you had a good time with him yesterday." you're moving back towards her neck, a hand dipping underneath her shirt and feeling the warm skin of her stomach and inching upwards.

"no what? y/n- fuck-" you're sucking at the sensitive skin on her neck now, "w-wait no y/n- d-don't- no marks-"

you're snarling again, "what? can't have wonsik or the others know you're already being taken care of?" you respect her wishes though, backing off but dropping onto your knees, pushing up her top and kissing her stomach. "fine. i'm marking you up here though. and you're not gonna tell me off this time because no-one-" you suck, "gets to see this much of you right?" biting lightly, "just me hmm?" licking along your newly formed hickey.

she's got her hands in your hair now, lightly pulling in the perfect way, bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she tries to keep quiet, eyes heavy-lidded and glossed over, looking down at you with an expression you just want to devour.

so you move back up, capturing her lips once again as she moans, subtly grinding her hips against you, gasping when your hand makes its way to her left breast, kneading softly over her bra.

a tweak of the nipple and she's a whimpering mess around you, pleading, "fuck fuck y/n please-"

you tut, "you think we have enough time baby?" you're other hand that's not teasing her chest undoes the button on her jeans. "the others could be outside waiting for you right now on the other side of this door."

"please! y-yes yes we have enough time just touch me i'm- fuck- soaked already it won't take much- please-"

you undo her jeans with ease, slipping your hand into her underwear, the other one still kneading and groping her chest.

"mm you are soaked baby." you trace down her center, "were you like this yesterday when he was kissing you?" you find her clit and rub, a little harsher than the way she likes but she leaks onto you at the action.

"n-no stop- ugh- stop talking about him y/n what the fuck-"

you continue your assault on her clit, your other hand sliding under her bra and pinching a nipple as she jolts into you, "get used to it. you're the nation's sweetheart right now. you and him are all they're going to be talking about after that show you put on yesterday."

her head lolls back, hitting the door softly as she groans, "h-he doesn't get me like this though. only y-you do- fuck- please y/n please just fuck me."

you don't have much time to keep teasing her so you quickly push into her, cursing at the way she clenches around you immediately, all tight and hot and wet. you don't waste any time, thrusting in and out of her as her head comes back down, biting on your shoulder to keep her voice in.

"mm- mm- faster- baby please-"

you take in her request, plunging into her and adding another finger, in and out, in and out. the wet sounds of her pussy filling the bathroom, you don't have too much arm space to move with her jeans still in the way, but you make do, conscious that the both of you needed to look presentable very soon.

you're pretty much the only thing holding her up now, her legs having gave way a while ago, your hand moving out from under her shirt, holding her hips up and against the door as you thrust into her, thankful that the lack of space meant the door wasn't making too much noise.

you feel her getting tighter around you, bringing a thumb up to press against her clit, "this gets you off doesn't it-" you're slightly out of breath, "knowing just a few meters away the guy you kissed just hours before being fucked senseless by me is waiting for you for even the slightest chance he'll get to feel you tight and hot around him like you are around me right now."

she's mewling, her face still buried in your neck, becoming impossibly tighter again at your words.

"they can't do it like this. everytime you kiss one of them, you'll know you're coming back home to be fucked by me."

you punctuate the end of your sentence with a curl of your fingers inside her, hooking on as she cums with a muffled whine.

and just in time too, when a loud knock on the bathroom door jolts the both of you, you pull out quickly and help zip up her jeans again while she recovers.

"sana? everyone's ready and waiting for you now."

"c-coming!"

her voice is scratchy and shaky, still leaning onto you as you readjust her shirt and comb your fingers through her hair, trying to make her presentable again.

you smirk a little at her word choice, stifling a laugh as you fix her, but she catches you, sending a weak slap onto your shoulder.

you step back and look at her, she's still breathing slightly heavily but otherwise no real damage can be seen.

"okay you're good."

she sidesteps you to check herself in the mirror quickly, adjusting a little. "jeez y/n didn't think you'd become so much of a sex fiend when we said we'd keep it casual."

you roll your eyes, "hurry up your lovers are waiting for you." you wait for her to go out first though, following behind closely as you greet everyone again, a little thrilled at having to act as if nothing happened in the last 10 minutes between the living room and the car you're getting into right now.

sana's her usual smiley self around everyone, and you take glee in knowing that just minutes prior you were literally inside her and pulling noises out of her no one else here would be able to hear.

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

the group date was certainly shaping up to be one of the most interesting dates of the season.

right now, nayeon, sana, and eunha were learning a short dance number together. their whole set was dressing up as idols so instead of doing a photoshoot, they were going to shoot a small tiktok so it could be used as promotion for the show as well.

before them, sunwoo and sana had done a black-tie sort of concept where they were dressed in a long suit and flowing dress with masquerade masks on. it was all very mysterious and romantic. siwon was also in the set but he was acting as a butler, it was tradition to have photoshoot themes where one contestant was always trying to get in between the set couple, both for some drama and some comedic relief.

the next set involved all the boys stripping down for a beach theme. you had a hunch it was also just to increase the sex appeal of the show. sex sells after all.

and so, sana was put in a tiny bikini, and you had to run from her glare as the makeup artist gaped at the newly formed mark on her upper stomach. so much for no visible marks.

you rolled your eyes as the boys whooped and cheered as they watched sana enter the set. you scoff as almost all of their eyes went straight to either her chest or her ass.

nayeon and eunha come to stand next to you after they're finished changing out of their outfits to observe.

the photographer is telling them the directions for the first scene, sana was going to be lifted up onto seungri and sunwoo's shoulders, you can hear siwon whining and complaining about how sunwoo already had his almost solo photoshoot with her and it should be him.

no one pays him much mind though as seungri immediately goes for sana, lifting her up easily as she squeals in surprise, and settling her on one of his shoulders as sunwoo quickly steps in so sana's rested on his shoulder as well. you squint at the way seungri is looking up at sana.

"ugh that was so unnecessary." nayeon is glaring at them as well.

"right, the way he went at the first chance to grab her ass," eunha scoffs next to her as well, "trust seungri to be as gross as ever."

you raise an eyebrow at the two of them, "is this a common occurrence in the house?"

nayeon shrugs, "seungri's an ass. they all are. except for sunwoo maybe." you nod, noting the way sunwoo refuses to look up at sana, staring straight ahead at the camera, a hand placed carefully over her knee just to make sure she doesn't fall off.

"most of the girls just tend to leave them to their own devices inside the house. we don't really interact with them unless we have to. the first night, jacky almost beat up siwon for shit talking eunji."

they're moving into the second position, this time sana's on her knees with a sandcastle in front of her, and wonsik and shindong are helping her build it, with the other boys goofing off in the background.

"what'd he say?" you ask eunha, eyes still locked onto the scene in front of you.

"some shit about how she ought to look more like a girl. take out the piercings, grow out her hair, cover up her tattoos, all that bull. and that's not even the worst part, he just kept going on and on and then he called her a dyke and that's when jacky lost it."

"what the fuck?"

"yeah. he knows not to say shit around the other guys that aren't in his group now. but he still takes every chance he gets to try and 'convert' us." eunha says in quotation marks.

nayeon chimes in, "doesn't see us as competition because we're girls. just more possibilities for him in case sana doesn't pick him in the end."

shindong has built a slight protrusion out of the sand castle, you can't really tell what he's doing but the photographer is muttering and calling over a few producers who look a little frazzled.

they move on quickly, directing everyone into the ocean for the last shot.

"miyeon told me to keep an eye out for them. guess she was right."

they both look at you in surprise, "you've been talking to miyeon?"

you shrug, watching as sana shrieks when sunwoo playfully splashes water her way, urging her to come in deeper. "she gave me her number after she was eliminated, i texted her this morning."

"how's she doing? it felt terrible watching her go instead of heechul yesterday. honestly had to question sana's judgement a little."

you cringe a little remembering last night, "she's doing okay i think. and-"

you're interrupted by a commotion in the water, and you're running in without thinking, nayeon and eunha not far behind.

by the time you get there, sana's already out of the water, an arm over her chest, covering herself as the costume people quickly go in and shield her, scrambling and yelling for clothes.

you turn on your heel, stalking over to the cameras you knew were filming and shouting for them all to be cut.

once you’re sure that no one is taking advantage of sana anymore and filming without her consent, you’re spinning back to watch as producers are trying to pull apart sunwoo and seungri, seungri sporting a nasty looking black eye and a bleeding nose.  

you’re quick to rush over to sana first though, she’s in an oversized shirt now with a towel wrapped around her.

“what happened? are you okay?”

she sniffles a little, her nose slightly red, “yeah yeah i’m fine. the waves were just really big and i didn’t see them coming. my top came undone and i thought seungri was coming towards me to help tie it back up but he.. um, well…” she blushes and looks away.

you're livid.

the producers look thankful as you march up towards them, hoping you were there to help the situation, but you walk straight up to seungri, bringing a knee up into his crotch, hard, and when he keels over in pain, you swing an uppercut right into his face.

you would've kicked him as well if there aren't suddenly arms around you, yanking you backwards, and you let them, but then you get a glimpse of a stupid grin and you knew it was seungri's buddies pulling you away you start writhing. your fist connects with a couple hard spots and you smirk when you hear a few groans of pain. eventually, it's sunwoo who pulls the guys off you harshly, throwing them down into the sand and standing next to you, still glaring at seungri.

"you think you're real slick huh? think you could get away with sexually harassing someone on national television?" you're seething, spitting words out as seungri is still doubled over.

"couldn't keep it in your pants for more than 2 minutes you'd risk your entire career and face-"

"y/n." sana's stepping up to you now, a hand on your shoulder trying to pacify you.

"pack your things and leave seungri. i never want to see you again. you can talk with your lawyers about editing that scene out but i have a feeling it'll be left in because drama pays more than whatever you can offer."

seungri is finally up, still bleeding and probably sporting a broken nose now, "but-"

"you heard her. get the fuck outta here before we press charges." you step forward now, and he shrinks, afraid you'll go for his balls again.

security has finally arrived on scene and they escort seungri off the premises.

things are still pretty much in disarray after that, but despite everything, sana still powers through, rejecting the offer to stop filming for today, instead, picking sunwoo as the star of the group date, the rest of you are sent back to either get changed or head back to the mansion to get ready for the night's rose ceremony.

you desperately want a moment alone with sana to check in with her. but she seems headstrong on bulldozing through the rest of the day, and you're whisked away soon enough.

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

the gossip spreads quickly.

after you've gotten changed into your outfit for the night, a sleek white suit with your hair carefully done up, courtesy of the costume and hair and makeup teams back at the bachelorette pad, you're sipping on a flute of champagne, talking with everyone about how the group date went.

"-and she sent him home after." eunha's finished telling the story to a few gasps and looks of shock.

"i knew i shoulda clocked that guy as soon as he made that comment about jiwon's dress." jacky's muttering, fists clenched in anger.

"poor sana i hope she's okay."

"yeah she was really incredible tonight to be fair. the producers had asked if she wanted a break and to continue filming tomorrow but she said she wanted to keep going."

"and sunwoo too, i'm glad he went in there and defended her. as jealous as i am that he won i'm glad she has him right now if she wants to talk." nayeon speaks up.

jihyo's loud voice is suddenly shouting from across the courtyard, "guys! look it's sana and sunwoo!"

everyone's rushing over towards the beach where it seems they had a long walk down from the photoshoot location all the way back to the mansion. your heart's pounding, wanting so badly to be with sana right now, to listen to her, to be angry for her, to be the one pulling her into an embrace right now as the contestants aww at the two of them hugging with the picturesque twilight in the background, sea breeze blowing softly.

they break away eventually, looking up towards all of you who wave and holler at them.

then they've interlocked hands, slowly making their way up to the mansion.

everyone is greeting each other again, but the producers quickly cut it short, saying the both of them have to go and get dressed so that the rose ceremony can begin.

the group disperses with a grumble, and you find yourself following sana, the costume designers not paying you any mind as you enter the designated dressing room inside the mansion.

"hey..."

sana jumps slightly but relaxes when she sees you, "hey yourself. what are you doing here?"

"just wanted to check in on you."

she tuts, "you're sweet y/n but there's no need for that. he was an ass and i sent him home. we don't have to worry about him anymore."

"yeah but.. like it's okay to still feel affected you know?"

she turns around, "zip me up?"

you nod, stepping forward and carefully reaching for the zipper on her back, sliding it up slowly, making sure it doesn't get caught on any outstanding threads.

she sighs, holding her hair over one shoulder so you can slide the zipper all the way up, "i'm just trying to get through today. after today's done... well if i still want to talk about it then i'll tell you. okay?"

you sigh softly against her, pressing your lips lightly against the back of her neck, "alright. just don't try to do everything yourself okay? i'm here."

a hand comes up and rests over yours, "i know baby. thankyou. c'mon, let's get this ceremony outta the way so we can go home and cuddle."

you hum, taking her hand and letting her lead you out of the dressing room and towards the courtyard.

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

you're getting a serious case of deja vu when the last 4 people are standing.

4 people were meant to be eliminated tonight, but since seungri was asked to leave early, sana only had to pick 3 more to leave.

the choices were between shindong, siwon, heechul, and jiwon.

surely this time sana wouldn't make a decision that was too surprising.

"jiwon." you can feel most of the room letting out a collective sigh of relief, and the stunned faces of the three leftover guys you wished you could frame and put up. there were bound to be screenshots and memes made off them anyway.

unlike the previous nights, no one really moves in to say goodbye to any of the guys, just waving a polite greeting as they exit.

the mc comes in next and wishes everyone a good night. sana goes forward to mingle a little more, wishing everyone well before she comes back to you, taking your hand and pulling you towards the front of the house, eager to go home.

the ride back is quiet but peaceful. you're hands have never left each others and you enjoy the short ride back to your shared home. once the driver has dropped you off you both head inside, take off those godforsaken heels, and drop down onto the couch.

sana's head in your lap, as you turn on the tv, pressing play on a random cartoon, carding your fingers through her hair.

you can tell the day has exhausted her, so you let her eyes drift shut, and her breathing even out, reaching for the blanket kept next to the couch and draping it over her.

you could take off her makeup and change her clothes later before taking her to bed, but for now, you were content to watch silly cartoons with sana safe in your hands.

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #sana x fem!reader #sana x f!reader #sana smut #sana imagines #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice x fem!reader #twice x f!reader #twice #royaltozaki

[fandoms--fluff]

Hi, I was thinking Hope x Reader. Where Lizzie was a doing a spell and accidentally hit reader turning her into a baby. In the room, Hope heard crying and she found the baby.

Vampire to Baby

Female vampire reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope runs into Lizzie and Josie's room with Josie as soon as they hear the high-pitched crying of a baby. "What's going on- oh my god" Josie froze under the door frame.

Hope's eyes widen, walking towards where Lizzie is holding a wailing baby girl, close to tears herself as she tries calming the baby down. "Where did you get a baby?" Hope asks the blonde.

"Okay, so don't freak out, but I was experimenting with a spell and..."

Five minutes prior

"What are you planning to do with that anyway?" You look up from your magazine. motioning to the papers splayed out with spell work in progress.

"I want to turn things back in time, like if someone knocks a glass of juice over, the spell reverses it," Lizzie grumbles, the spell not working for the fourth time. She cleans up the spilled water on the ground with a towel.

"Okayyy, fifth time's the charm" Lizzie mumbles before chanting the spell in a different order this time.

"Nothing happened, ughhh" Lizzie groans and throws her head back. Her head snaps back up as soon as she hears the tiniest little whimper coming from where you were lying down on her bed.

She looks over to the bed and lets out an audible gasp. A few seconds later, tears start to run down your small cheeks. She now has a de-aged vampire who so happens to also be her best friend.

"You turned my girlfriend into a baby?!" Hope exclaims, taking a closer look at you.

"Now, don't be mad" Lizzie winces at the look on Hope's face. "It was an accident."

"My vampire girlfriend is now a baby" Hope stated, eyes blazing.

Josie composes herself and walks over to her twin and best friend. "Okay, before anything worse happens, how about we calm her down" Josie nods at you, tears still rolling down your face.

"Don't you think I've been trying to do that? It's not working!" Lizzie tells them while giving a look and bouncing you in her arms.

"Give her over" Hope sighs. And Lizzie happily passes you into the tribrid's arms. As soon as you're rested against her chest, your

"Rude. tell us she's your favorite without telling us" Lizzie crosses her arms.

"Okay, Hope, you look after y/n/n. Lizzie and I will find a way to reverse the spell. Come on" Josie leads her twin over to the desk with littered papers.

Hope nods and clutches you tighter in her hold, walking over to your guys' room across the hall.

"You're a really cute baby, ya know?" Hope coos. You reach up your tiny hand and clutches onto a wave of her hair. She examines you as you play with her hair. You're so tiny and small, and so vulnerable.

She hugs you closer to her, not wanting you near any danger. Since this school is like a magnet for dangerous things.

You blabber incoherent things as you snuggle into the older girl's chest. You like her, she's warm and you feel safe around her.

Hope looks around the room and lands on the cd player on the dresser. You insisted on keeping the player after finding it in a box of old 'junk' Alaric was going to throw away. Plus you had a bunch of cds anyways. And you argue a lot with Lizzie that cds are a better form of music than on a phone, but then again you weren't a child when cds were being used, unlike all of them.

"Hey, you wanna listen to some music?" She asks animaticaly. You gurgle in excitement, and Hope takes that as a yes.

She walks over the wooden dresser and turns the power button then the play button. And in a couple seconds, the intro to 'oops I did it again' plays. That must have been the last cd and song you were listening to. Hope chuckles at how you always blast either this song or 'you give love a bad name' to get her out of bed in the morning.

You giggle and start kicking your legs excitedly, liking the music. Hope chuckles and kisses the top of your head. She then has an idea and starts carefully spinning and dancing around the room to the song with you held in her grasp.

Hope carries you down to the dining hall/room. It's been a couple hours and she's been getting hungry, and she could also tell you're hungry as well.

You hide your face in her chest when someone walks up to you two. "Hey MG" Hope smiles, cradling one of her hands on the back if your head.

"Hey. What's with the baby?" He asks, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Oh, uh, just babysitting, yeah...um, bye!" Hope comes up with a lie quickly before walking away, eyes widened. For being the one and only tribrid (vamp side not activated yet), she sure sucks at lying.

She walks over to the table of all the trays and places two plates on a tray. As she piles on food onto both the plates, she can feel eyes on her. So she quickly grabs utensils before walking as fast as she can with a baby and a tray of food up to your guys' room.

"Alright, food time" Hope sighs, sitting on the bed, against the headboard with the food in front of her. She grabbed lots of napkins, knowing there's going to be some kind of mess made.

"You look at the plates of food and clap your hands together before reaching towards the fruit cup on one of the plates.

Hope picks the fruit cup and a spoon up and starts to feed you. You munch on the strawberries, watermelon, and grapes happily. She watches as you eat the fruit, using her other hand to feed herself a piece of pizza as well.

Just as she lifted the spoon to feed you a grape, the door slammed open, presenting the twin siphoners. They quickly make their way inside, shutting the door behind them.

"We found a reversal spell" Josie tells hope and starts to explain what it intails.

"Okay, let's do it" Hope gently lifts you up off her lap and into the middle of the bed. You look up at her, confused, as she moves the food tray over to her desk.

She holds out her hands, inviting the two girls to siphon off her. They immediately grasp her hands and start to change the spell. Hope follows with after hearing the verse the first time.

In no time the spell took affect and where there used to be a baby you, is now a full grown vampire you. They all let out a simultaneous sigh of relief the spell worked.

"What the bloody hell happened?" You groan, standing up from the bed.

"Hah, so funny story..." Lizzie scratches the back of her neck.

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson x female vampire reader #hope mikaelson x fem reader #hope mikaelson x female reader #lizzie saltzman x female reader #lizzie saltzman #lizzie saltzman x best friend reader #josie saltzman #josie saltzman x reader #cute #fluff #imagines #thevampirediaries #writing #fanfic #theoriginals #legacies

[alien-magnolia]

I Need Someone Older

Fic description: Dean finds you on a hunt and takes you along to get you safely out of danger, fun ensues :) as the two of you feel an inevitable pull of attraction towards each other.

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tw: AGE GAP! Hyper-feminine reader in early 20’s, Dean in late 40’s, daddy issues <3, dom-coded dean, sub-coded reader, bj, breeding kink!, extremely subby-coded reader, helplessness, praise!!!

Word count: 3.1k

Don’t like, don’t read!!

May 5, 2007

7:40 pm

Your white knee high socks were getting a little dusty from the dirt on the woodsy soil. You came out here to write your poetry, desiring a place for peaceful solitude, and perhaps some creative inspiration. You dusted off your skirt as you sat down on the moist bed of grass. The waning moon was a bit yellow tonight, yet you thought nothing off it. You began to write a few words in your floral notebook, with some neat handwriting and a gel pen.

All of a sudden, you hear a wail in the distance. The wind is cold. A few leaves rustle out a few feet away from you, causing you to stare into the dark pathway on your left, in which many trees loitered. You felt as if you were being watched. You continue with your writing, until again you hear a rustle, this time, a bit closer than before. A chill goes down your spine, and you slowly turn to see a pair of yellow eyes, a figure with long, sharp, claws, and a tall, curved, spiny, skinny, body, with a tail. It snarls, coming closer to you. You drop your notebook, and crawl backwards, the dirt making indents on your palms. You hear a few male voices, and see boots running to attack the creature.

You see a flame, the creature is light ablaze, and you pass out from fear. The last thing you remember is strong arms lifting you up, the smell of beer and cherry pie clouds your nostrils.

You wake up in the wood again, this time, the brighr and warm morning light shines down on your skin, littered with cuts and bruises. You seemed to have lost your favorite lipgloss in the process.

“Where am I? My head…,” you whine, seeing a handsome man next to you, bandaging your cuts and cleaning them. That cheered you up a bit. You wince as his calloused hands rub alcohol on your wound, and you meet his eyes. He had green eyes, dark hair, wore a flannel and jeans and had the most amazing body <3 he looked just, so big, compared to you!

You ask him his name and what happened. “The name’s Dean, sweetheart. My brother and I were in these woods looking for a wendigo. We sure as hell did find one.” You nod, still reeling from the attack last night. “Did that… person, thing, do that to me?,” you ask, eyes wide, a bit nervous. “It’s no person, honey,” he chuckles darkly. “Hate to break it to you, but monsters are real. The whole gang. Vampires, werewolves, spirits, demons, all other things that go bump in the night. All are real.” You sit in shock as he continues to fix your wounds. You notice how good his calloused (gunpowder covered) fingers feel on your calves. You wince as he brushes over a wound, jerking your leg back.

“Too rough?,” he asks, a large hand resting on your thigh. You nod. “S’alright. I’ll be more gentle, yeah?,” he asks, and you nod, feeling satisfied as the older man returns your smile.

“Hey. Might’ve caught trail of another wendigo up ahead. We should get going,” another man dressed in similar fashion walks up ahead, talking to Dean, taking a glance at you. “What's the hold up, Dean?,” he asks.

“Shut it, Sammy. Can’t you see I’m doing something here? Found her at the site where the thing was. Had to fix her up.” Sam nods, as Dean tells him your name. The two then agree to further go hunt for the second wendigo. “What about her? We’re deep in the woods now, sure as hell she ain’t going to go back on her own, Sammy.” “Fine. Take her with you, as long as she doesn’t cause a problem.”

So it was. You were now going to hunt for the wendigo with the Winchester brothers. The dirt and thick jagged branches sometimes were too much for your legs to handle, so you held onto Dean for some of the walk. He didnt seem to mind, and only smirked as you accidentally leaned too much into him, your soft chest grazing his wide and big arms.

“Stay here, stay put. Don’t go anywhere,” Dean commands you, and you do as said, wait as the boys go into the dark cave. An hour later — there was fire, shrieking, and the boys come out unscathed. The last wendigo has been killed, and the three of you make your way back to “baby,” which you later learned was Dean’s nickname for his ‘67 Impala.

Dean drove with Sam in the front, you in the back seat. You dozed in and out of consciousness as the engine lulled you toward the heavy tug of sleep, you overheard the two men speaking about you.

“Well, Dean she has no ID on her so it’s better off that we take her to the local sheriff’s station. We know Jody, she might be able to help,” Sam inquired. “Yeah, well Sammy, you know what, Jody’s probably just going to tell her to go back to the woods or some shit. Maybe she’s far from home. Maybe she was hiding. Who the hell knows? Bet she’d tell us first before talking to law enforcement,” Dean countered.

“Why is it always you and women, Dean? She’s so young too. Maybe a little too young for you?”

“Shut it, Sammy. Respect her. She probably has her reasons. She’s real pretty and I’ll get what I want, eventually,” Dean retorted. Sam sighed.

You drifted back into sleep but squeezed your thighs together at the thought of the older man using you and getting what “he wants.”

You were more than happy to give it to him.

You were in a dingy 1970’s era hotel room, with dark brown shag carpet, rickety beds with neon orange polyester sheets, and a single lamp in the corner, flickering on occasion. No tv, but a rotary phone and radio. Sam was on a chunky laptop that whined and whistled due to all the power his research into Wendigos was taking up. You believed he was on a library forum of some sort. You sat on the bed, dwindling with the phone cord. The low buzz of the fan was heard from the corner.

Dean comes up to you. “Heya, kid. I’m gonna go get some grub. Wanna come with?,” he asks, offering you a hand to help you up from the bed. You nod, smiling, and taking his hand. Dean opted to go to a local bar to get some takeout. He ordered a large burger, large pilsner beer, and a cherry pie. You got some chicken and French fries, sharing some pie with him. You tell him that you were in the woods to write poetry, you got lost and then time seemed to go. Your cell was dead too. He told you about his ‘job’ with his brother Sam, choosing to follow his dad John Winchester’s legacy of hunting down things that go bump in the night. He made you laugh, asking you about your writing, your college education, a life that someone like him never had.

“We’re so different, you and I, know that? Seriously. I mean, college? In my dreams. Wondering what that’s like,” he said to you, while taking a sip of his beer.

“What can I say. I want a decent life for myself, sometimes. I have a pull towards the arts. Literature, actually. Sometimes though, I just want to be on my own. Without the pressures of society, on the road, like you two. Bet you don’t have any deadlines to meet,” you jokingly admit to Dean.

He chuckles, but then nods, a more serious expression growing on his face now, taking another sip of his beer. “Life sucks, kid. Sucks for me and Sammy, we’re out on the road, might die the next day. Never know what the fuck’s chasing after us,” he has a bit of a solemn expression, taking another sip of his beer.

You nodded, understanding him, seeing through the “tough guy” facade that he’s put up. He was scared. He needed someone to comfort him, to support him. His brother was his partner, yet that wasn’t the partner he was looking for.

You reach over to put your dainty hand on his large one. “Thanks for dinner, really. We should save some for Sam, though, I think,” you giggle, watching a grown man blush over your gentle touch. “Yeah, sure thing sweetheart. Anytime…,” he trails off, his blush seemed to get stronger and he was avoiding eye contact a bit.

“You okay?,” you ask, meeting his eyes, feeling something start to heat up between the two of you, the air suddenly was heavy. “You’re just, well, pretty, kid. Seriously. Real fuckin’ nice, sweets,” he chuckles, his large fingers coming to intertwine with yours. You almost faint under the pressure of his hand on yours, your eyes drift to his muscular and wide frame, his tattered Jean jacket, his necklace on a black piece of string, his chiseled jawline. As funny as he was, you knew that you had an undeniable attraction towards him.

He saved you from the wendigo, but you let him. You let him take you back to the motel with Sam. You let him have you stay with them. Now. You’d let him have your body. All of it.

“Maybe we can go into those woods again? I can show you some poems?,” you reel, watching the older man’s eyes light up with a burning flame. “Sure, thing, kid. I’ll take you up there in ‘baby.’

With a few stares and leers from the other inhabitants of the shady bar, Dean leads you by the waist out the door, and into his impala, opening the door for you, of course.

“Ladies first,” he bows down a bit as he holds the shabby car door open for you. You take his helping hand and slide into the shotgun (front) seat. He quickly runs over to the driver’s side, a toothpick in his mouth as he climbs in, adjusting the jagged rearview mirror. You struggled to buckle up in the old model of a car, so Dean helped out, buckling it for you. You liked the many things he seemed to do for you. His care. His help.

He pulls out of the diner driveway, one of his ringed hands on the wheel, another tracing gentle patterns all over your thigh. You adjust your socks as his patterns make you heat up — inside and out. “I know a place. You down? If not I’m fine with it, sweet thing. No pressure, s’all,” his voice is soft, gentle, as if speaking to a child. You blush. “It’s alright, Dean. I’ll show you my poems. I’ll show you something else too, I think you’ll like it,” you cover your smile as you let out a few small giggles. He smirks back at you.

“Oh I’ll like it, alright. God damn,” he stifles, his strong, calloused fingers gripping a bit harder on your soft thigh. The rest of the drive was tense, just how you liked it. Soft rock — ‘Blue Oyster Cult’s’ “Don’t Fear The Reaper” played in the background, and it would usually lull you to sleep. Not tonight. Your heart raced, stealing glances at the man next to you. The man about to take your virginity, what concept you or society made of it. You hoped he didn’t mind.

The impala pulled into a motel parking lot: the same one where you left from. “Dean. Your brother..won’t he..?, you ask, and he quickly interrupts. “Well just be in a different room, is all. Sammy wouldn’t care anyway, as much as I’d like him to. He takes your hand again, leading you to Room 22, on the second floor. Your fingers trace the grimy balcony railing as you head up there.

The door shuts. You smile at him, then look down at your feet. “Can I, um. Kiss you, Dean?,” you ask, shy and sweet, a delicious pie on the shelf, a cherry blossom that smells and tastes so sweet, intoxicating the older man closer and closer to you. “F’course. You’ve never done this before, have you?” You nod. “Let me take the lead, yeah, sweet thing. I’ll be gentle. Scout’s honor,” he smiles, holding up two fingers. You nod, wrapping your small arms around his broad chest. Your soft chest pressed against his, you feel the cool metal of his pentagram necklace press against your warm, beating heart.

His large arms trail down to squeeze your waist a bit, and then rub circles down below, your waist and hips. He gave them a tight squeeze, you gasped at his strength. His fingers continued ministrations on your waist, hips, thighs, and the two of your lips danced in a slow and sensual rhythm. You could taste the beer and cherry pie on him, and you ran your fingers through his coarse hair.

His thumb rubs your cheek a bit, and he picks you up in his arms, you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you over to the bed, gently laying you down under him. His face above you, his brown eyes in awe taking in your sweet skin, putting him in a trance. His calloused hands run down your arms, your belly, gentle, soft, and slow. He grabs your chin, pulling your face towards his, and meets you for a chaste kiss, slow, you felt the stubble on his cheek and smiled into his lips.

His hand runs through your hair, over your cheek, this thumb caressing your face a bit. You keep the kiss going, you feel him getting rougher, hungrier for you. Your hands touch his broad chest, trailing on the hem of his shirt, which you take off. His chest was bare, just with a tiny bit of hair, and a very prominent happy trail <3 of which you run your fingers through.

His hands lead your hips up against the wall, tracing patterns on your back. Your lips are hungry for each others, you push your chest into his. “Fuck, sweet thing. Gonna drive me up the wall here, Jesus,” his voice now an octave deeper, raspier, breathless. His cherry pink swollen lips meet yours again, you feel his aftershave on your face. Your thighs rub against his growing bulge, positioning your legs so his thickening tent on his jeans was pressed up snug, right into your growing wetness in between your legs.

“Dean…want it,” you moan out, your delicate, manicured fingers tracing the toughness of his stubble. “Want what, huh? Gotta ask nicely, don’t keep me guessing, honey,” he smirks, a condescending expression appearing on his handsome face.

“I-uh, your, uh, oh, fuck,” you breathlessly whimper out, as his rough, calloused fingers gently slide down between your legs, rubbing your soft, warm folds, through your pretty and pink lace.

“Let me see what you got down there, hmm?,” he smirks, knowing that he has you completely wrapped around his finger. You nod, his hand cups your cheek for another kiss. He slides off your skirt, your knee highs, your Lacey top. You work on his jeans, until he stops you, with a look — meaning that he can take care of it.

All clothes gone — your legs intertwine, he presses his leaking bulge into your folds, you could practically feel how you clenched around nothing!!

“Dean…,” you beg again. “What’s wrong, huh? What’re you beggin’ for, seeet thing. Gotta give me words,” he says, all the while his thick fingers continue to work you open — get you ready for him.

A soft smile is on his face as his fingers become ever so gentle, continuing a circular pattern, pausing to tightly cup and squeeze your pulsing mound.

“Want. Want your, ha — your cock, Dean. Please. Please!,” you squeal out, just as he cups and massages your mound once more. “Why didn’t you say so, at first, sweet thing? Here I was thinkin’ you only wanted my fingers,” he chuckles, smile full of adoration — seeing you in a close to ruined state. His fingers pull out with a squelch.

You whine at the loss, your cunt throbbing, pulsing, desperate to be filled!! He smiles, hands on your hips. “Bend over f’me, baby.” You do as said, his smile and yours widen as his two hands cup your ass, giving it a hard smack.

His hands trace up and down your back, your waist, until you feel his soft tip press at your entrance. You turn around to view what you’ve been waiting for. He’s big. Short, yet thick. Oh so thick. You weren’t sure if he’d fit. A large vein ran down his left side. Fuck — how you wanted that in your mouth.

His hand gently guides your face back down into the table which you were bent over. “Down, baby. You’ll get a chance later, yeah?,” he soothes you. You nod. You feel his throbbing tip at your mound, as he slides in — you feel the stretch, just for a bit, and then he starts to push in, you felt so full !!

“Fuck— ah, Dean, too much, too much,” you squeal out, as he slides in, and starts to move, thrust, slow, gentle at first, and then deep, fast, his thick balls slapping against your mound. You saw stars, felt pressure as he kept going, faster, rutting into you, his hairy chest pressing into your back. The man had put you in a mating press. You wouldn’t mind. With how it’s going with him — you’d take his seed. Anything for the man that saved you from the Wendigo.

Your eyes roll back into your head, his grip on your hips was like a vice. The two of you finish with screams. He groans. “Fuck, sweet thing. You take it like a champ, yeah?” You nod giddily, anything for his praise and approval. “How’s about we stay in this room tonight? I’ll getchu’ a beer.” You nod. “That’s my good girl. Stay put.” With that, your mound is even more wet, you’re left clenching, covered in his cum as he leaves to get you snacks.

He comes back, presses a nice kiss to your forehead, and makes the two of you some dinner. You wondered what this will lead to.

Author’s note: pls support your creators <3 if you love this fic pls comment or reblog! Greatly appreciated <3 xoxo - Liz

#liz’s masterlist #liz writes 🖤 #supernatural smut #Dean Winchester smut #dean x reader #dean winchester hot #winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #dom!dean winchester #hyperfeminine!reader

[kris-the-yan]

Neurodivergent characters in Super Monkey Ball

Only one of these has a canon name for their disorder, the rest are implied so much that they may potentially be canon too

1. Doctor

-> Out of everyone, Doctor is the only character who has a label for his disorder, which is amnesia. And although it isn't entirely accurate representation of amnesia, it also isn't terrible as they don't portray him in a way that creates a mockery of amnesiac people in general.

-> besides that, he's also incredibly smart, so his IQ has to be through the roof practically, so maybe giftedness? Either way, he is portrayed as someone who is well-respected among individuals (hence the name Doctor, which was given by the public) (also I imagine when he was in school he was super popular due to his high intelligence)

2. YanYan

Probably not canon, but then again she litterally shows these in the games so it may be so

To start I would say she possibly shows **a few** signs of autism and although they never said anything about her having it, I feel like she probably does

-> For one thing, she **absolutely cannot sit still, AT ALL.** as seen in the games, she's constantly moving around, even when sitting down, something some sensory-seeking autistic people experience

-> Another thing, she is canonically described as being "fearless," which gets me thinking, maybe she doesn't fear anything even when it potentially puts her life in danger (for example a moving car headed her direction) (they probably mean she doesn't fear any bad guy she faces, but still).

-> Oh yeah SUPER MONKEY BALL BOUNCE AND she's the only one out of everyone who cries when she was kidnapped. Not just teary, watery eyes, I mean FULL ON WAILING which is kind of surprising because for someone who's supposedly "fearless," she's just there letting her emotions out. But why does she cry this much? Maybe it was the feeling of that green gooey web that she's tied up with, perhaps she hates the feeling of it and it upset her to the point of crying?

-> Also she's apparently shy, which honestly contradicts her actually being "fearless," but anyway, some autistic people are shy (depends on where they are on the spectrum), and although not all shy people are autistic, she could be since she experiences some of the other things (the constantly moving around is a big thing)

-> Also I think she has a lack of social awareness because she canonically has a crush on AiAi and even flirts with him even though their biological son is **right there** so shouldn't she be aware of that already? My prediction is that they throw hints and cues that any allistic person would understand and go "ok so I guess I can't date him because he's married and they have a son from the future" but YanYan doesn't seem to understand any of that, instead thinks she can still have a chance with him

3. Jam

-> Ok so this one's rather short but absentmindedness and hyperactivity are both signs of ADHD and since Jam shows both of these... :)

4. Pospos

-> I've went in-depth with this but he canonically shows signs of anomic aphasia or dysmonia, which is when you have trouble retrieving the correct words from memory, which happens to him a lot. He has trouble remembering names, which actually interferes with his job and ability to communicate overall. This is shown in-game when he struggles to remember the names of people he has to deliver mail to. He also seems to not make very good eye contact and shows signs of being shy, which I believe his disorder leads to.

5. Sisi

-> So, normally people wouldn't have to have pictures of everyone they meet to tell whether or not they exist, but just that one like tells everything ("I take pictures of everybody I meet, it's the only way I know they really exist"). The only explanation I can think of is he deals with hallucinations, specifically people. It may be only one line but he could possibly be schizo-spec because again, that piece of dialogue implies he hallucinates people and therefore takes pictures of everyone as the only real way of knowing whether they're real or not

#kris talks #super monkey ball #yanyan #sisi #pospos #doctor #jam #dereality tw #<- just in case for the last paragraph #i litterally had this in my head this morning

[tonycries]

Little Heaven

Synopsis. He’s just your friend-with-benefits, right? So why - in the still haze of the soft sheets and you, fúcking you so sensual and tenderly - does he feel like he’s found his own personal heaven?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, kinda fluffy, he’s both pússydrunk and in love, slow to rough, marking, mentions of marriage and kids, morning, swearing.

Word count. 1.3k

A/N. Probably the fluffiest smút I’ve ever written.

You were just his friend-with-benefits, right? No strings attached, right? 

So why was he here? Sinking into your plush mattress, quiet morning sun just barely peeking in through the curtains as he wraps his arms around your naked figure. 

God, he really shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be laying you on your side, drinking in your soft little, “G’mornin’.” Both of your movements languid and still burning with soreness. Your hips pushing back desperately into his as he positions himself so that his leaking tip was just kissing your swollen folds. 

He shouldn’t be whispering soft kisses into the marks that littered your skin. Licking one, long stripe up the sinful trail of hickies down your neck. All sensual touches where it was bruising grips last night. 

That was rule #1, right? No marks. 

Or was it #4… 

Ah, right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck. Not when his greedy eyes wander the expanse of your face, fingers trailing along the features he’s mapped a thousand times over. Tracing delicate patterns across your skin, snaking down, down, down to leisurely lift your leg a little higher. 

Bare chest warm against your back, his voice is low and gravelly in your ear as he whispers, “I had a dream y’know.” 

Mind still thinly veiled with sleep, you lean into his warm touch, “Mhm?” 

Your breath hitches at the way he drags his swollen head teasingly across your slit, pooling your slick on his achingly hard tip. Smearing your juices with his thumb as he pumps himself lazily. It’s so torturously good. You almost miss the way he buries his face into the crook of your neck, murmuring a soft “Had a dream of us.”

Oh? 

Before you can overthink his words, he’s nudging in gently. So agonizingly gentle. And you can do nothing more than let out barely-audible whispers of his name as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. 

You feel so full. So drunk off of the delicious burn of your pussy and him. 

And it seems he was drunk on you just as much, because as soon as his hips are flush against yours, the words escape him. So quiet and groggy with sleep, that you almost don’t catch them.

“Had a dream that I made you my beautiful bride.”

Oh. 

That was new. His words hung heavy in the heady air. 

Shivers run down your spine - all the way to where he was buried in your dripping cunt. Your voice is slightly shaky as you let out a humorless laugh, “Oh yeah? Must’ve been a nightmare then.”

Soft lips press against your forehead, breathing in your scent. Absolutely searing as he mutters out a muffled, “No, was the best dream I ever had.”

And then, with the audacity of someone who didn’t just send your mind reeling, he pulls his hips back unhurriedly. Immediately fucking into you at a slow, sensual pace. Tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips languidly into yours, making sure you feel every bump and graze against your tight walls.

You don’t know what’s more maddening - his agonizing pace or the words that tumble out of his lips. “Y’looked so beautiful in white. So pretty walking down the aisle to me.” 

His lips brush against yours, hands dancing across every inch of you he could reach. Gently caressing the skin like it’s something divine, soothing over the marks from last night as if an apology. “Don’ think I’d want to see anyone else there.”

You glance back at him - only to find his eyes already on you. A jolt of electricity runs across your skin at the pure warmth in them. And you realize that, no, this wasn’t a joke. 

Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply grind your hips down to meet his, abs rubbing against your ass. Letting out a broken whimper of what sounds like his name as he moves down a hand to press rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. 

“Saw a little something else too.” he hums, a sly smile curling his lips as his other hand dances across your body to press down on your stomach. Hard. “Saw that I had some competition - two actually. Funny, right?”

“Hah- h-hilarious.” you manage to choke out as his thumb speeds up on your clit, hips moving a bit more purposefully. A bit more like you were used to. Rock-hard cock plunging into your quivering cunt in deliberate, sloppy thrusts that have you white-knuckling the sheets. 

“Though…” he trails off dangerously, pulling back all the way until his furiously hard tip was just kissing your waiting hole. “I wouldn’t really mind.”

And with that he’s sheathing his throbbing erection in your wet pussy completely. A gasp of delight leaves him at the way you take him so readily. Walls sucking him up so sinfully - perfect. You were always so perfect for him. 

“Dreamt we had a lil’ house with a big garden.” God, he can feel his cock harden so painfully at the fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your pretty lips each time his hip smack into yours. It’s music to his ears, such a shame he just can’t shut the fuck up right now. “And then you dressed the kids up while I made breakfast.”

“Then you made us do taxes and I didn’t even fucking mind.” His voice is strained now, words slurring together as he rams his cock deeper and deeper, glistening with your slick in the soft morning glow. 

“And finally at night, I say we should make a third one.” 

He looks at you, a sly grin stretching his lips, eyes half-lidded and a dangerous twinkle in them that has you wondering whether everything he said before was merely a ruse to fuck you silly. And it probably shows on your face - because he grins lowly in your ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we have till our wedding night f’me to fuck you slow.”

And oh he almost feels guilty. But he can’t bring himself to slow down at the way your swollen lips drop into such a pretty oh! at his words. Mewling at the sting of his heavy balls as they smack your ass. Walls clamping down desperately on his dick, milking him for every drop of pleasure. Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy as he focuses on making you lose your mind. 

He shifts his angle slightly, grinding expertly against your g-spot just right, and you throw your head back, releasing a low moan of his name.

“Shit. Yeah, say m’name, sweetheart. Jus’ like that.” he moans breathlessly. 

His name - soon to be yours.

Maybe.

You turn your head to face him, eyes fiery as you capture his in an equally scorching kiss. Cock slamming into your poor, abused cunt with an intensity that matches that of your lips.

Probably. 

Biting down on his lower lips, soft yet insistent. Humming deliriously against his mouth - and in the heat of it all, he feels you smile against his lips. Ever-so-slightly. 

Definitely. 

And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure behind your eyes, walls clamping down so deliciously around his twitching cock. It sends him over the edge as well - whispering your name as if a prayer, voice hoarse with emotions neither of you could name at this very moment. 

Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your trembling cunt white, milking the soul out of him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forming around his base as some truly animalistic part of himself fucks his seed into you - a promise, he likes to think.

“I’m serious about the dream.”

Almost as gentle as that one. 

As the haze settles, his thrusts slowing down to just shallow grinds, a fragile silence envelopes the room as neither of you speak. Because maybe no other words were needed. 

And right now, morning sunlight harsh on his skin, strong arms pulling you warm body flush against his, no one but you two in this quiet world - he doesn’t think he’d like to be anywhere else.

All is well in your little heaven.

- GOJO, GETO, Choso, SUNA, ATSUMU, Tsukishima, Kuroo, EREN

A/N. Bro it took longer to think of what to write than to write this. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #aot x reader #aot smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #choso x reader #choso smut #geto x reader #geto smut #tsukishima x reader #kuroo x reader #suna x reader #atsumu x reader #eren x reader #suna smut #kuroo smut #tonywrites #eren smut #atsumu smut #tsukishima smut

[azulhood]

Danny was tired, like 'I feel it in my bones and soul' tired. And he didn't want sleep at home because there's only so many nights, he could spend lying awake making sure his heart was beating in case his parents checked on him.

Currently he was flying aimlessly not really taking in his surroundings, but he could neither sleep while flying or fly forever. Normally he'd sleep over at Sam or Tucker's, but the Mansons had made it clear that he wasn't welcome at their house anymore and Tucker was grounded. Both would sneak him in if he asked, but he didn't want them to get in trouble for him. Which leads him to decide between his two choices, sleeping in a graveyard, or sleeping in a forest.

The graveyard was a little crowded with all the ghosts that called it home but he could probably find a quiet spot to sleep. The forest had a great view of the stars but was filled with traps from both his parents and the GIW after tracking his ecto-signature. Both options weren't appealing, but he wasn't about to chance sleeping on the roof of his house again. There were too many ghost detecting guns attached to it now. Danny sighed, graveyard it was, at least the ecto from all the shades/ghosts would hide him well enough. Decision made, now all he had to do was make his way over there. But first, where the heck was he? Danny looked around at the unfamiliar grey sky and gargoyles littered around and realized he had no clue where he was. He must have flown too far away from Amity without noticing...Again. It was really becoming a bad habit. Danny stared down at the city's inhabitants that were going home or heading to nightshifts or whatever and dreaded the long flight back to his town. And maybe it was ghost instinct, or maybe it was just his exhaustion. But his brain suggested 'What if I just possess someone?' And to him that seemed like a perfectly logical train of thought. He wouldn't control their body or anything, just sleep in their skin...That did not make it sound better at all. Before he could think twice, someone left a general store, arms filled with stuff and somehow projecting an aura of safety. The two thoughts of 'They look comfy' and 'screw it' clashed together in his head as he made the very stupid decision of performing a swan drive right into the someone. "WHAT THE-" "Don't worry, I'll be gone by morning I just need to sleep" Danny cut off the persons freakout-he should really get their name at some point- he would have explained more but the sleep gods had already done their job. This left one very confused, scared, and freaked out Batkid.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #I don't know which batkid it should be #I'm thinking Dick or maybe Stephenie #I feel like Steph would be the most chill about a ghost using her body as a sleeping bag #Cass and her just straight up adopt the tired ghost boy who talks in his sleep and says the most distressing things #Bruce didn't even have a chance #Danny is gonna be so confused when he wakes up

[hotchscvm]

three cents

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: talks of big dick energy, prostitution if you squint, red wine, gray sweatpants (mentioned)

Girls' night out was wild, no one knew where you would end up. One night, you ended up on a boat and the next you were on a train to NYC. After getting thrown in jail with Emily, JJ, and Penelope during another night out, you all vowed to keep whatever happened during the night a secret from everyone, specifically Derek Morgan. Derek Morgan who had bailed all four of you out of jail, Derek Morgan who teased you relentlessly for weeks after.

After a long case, Emily suggested another girl’s night which all of you agreed on, desperately needing a celebratory drink after saving a little girl. It was around one in the morning when you got back to Quantico and though Aaron gave you the day off for tomorrow–or well, later today–all four of you decided to crash at Emily’s and drink to your heart’s content.

Popcorn and Hersey kisses lay on Emily’s coffee table, bottles of half-empty wine and jello shots litter the floor and you’re all giggling about whether to prank Derek by getting phone cases with a picture of him shirtless. You’re all on board and Penelope is getting them custom-made through a website she’s found.

“Speaking of Derek’s abs.” JJ drags the ‘s’ creating a hissing noise. She turns to you, grinning. “I’ve wanted to ask ever since you went to that Doctor Who convention with him. Do you like like Spence?”

You giggled, taking a small sip of wine, thinking about the genius. “Noooo. Spence is my friend. And he runs with his gun like it’s weighing him down. Besides, I only went to that Doctor Who convention because he went to see Barbie with me. He’s, like, too young for me, too.”

“He’s older than you.” Emily points out, smirking, knowing full well you liked older men. “He’s adorable and sweet.”

“Spencer is definitely cute and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a sex dream about him,” you confessed, smiling as the girls burst out laughing. “But he’s too … inexperienced. I like my men like I like my wine. Old.”

Your phone had been on mute since you entered the plane, not wanting to abruptly wake anyone up if they were resting, so not a single person in the room had heard your phone ringing or Aaron’s multiple “hello’s” trying to get your attention. All of you were oblivious to your boss listening in to the conversation.

“Is Rossi too old for you?” Penelope asked, inciting another round of giggles.

You nodded, finishing off your glass of wine. “Just a bit. I’ve seen pictures of him when he was in the Marines though, and I definitely would’ve been the fourth Mrs. Rossi back then.”

Emily cackled, a bit of red wine spilling from her full glass. “Okay, I have a question. Would you guys fuck Hotch for ten million dollars? Be honest here.”

“No!” both JJ and Penelope spit out. They all turned to you, grinning like madmen.

You shrugged, filling another glass. “I’d do it for three.”

“Damn, three million? That’s–“

“Nope,” you smirked, taking a sip.

Emily paused, head tilting in confusion. “Three … hundred thousand?”

“No.”

“Three thousand?”

You shake your head, grinning at the confused woman. “Nope.”

“Three hundred?”

“No.”

Emily’s eyes widened, jaw-dropping a little further as you denied her guesses. “Three dollars?”

“No.”

“THREE CENTS?” JJ was the one to shout, mouth dropping open when you giggled and nodded.

Penelope threw a pillow at you, and you giggled, dodging it, nearly spilling your drink in the process. “Hey! This is supposed to be a judge-free zone. I’d suck and fuck Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner for three measly cents.”

“Okay, I’d understand if you said Derek but Hotch?” Emily exclaimed, shaking her head at the thought. “He’s like twenty years older than you!”

“Exactly! That’s part of the appeal,” you replied. You were sure by tomorrow no one would remember your confession–though you were positive you wouldn’t either–and that they wouldn’t tease you too much over it. “He’s the literal definition of a DILF.”

The girls laughed at your words, JJ having to clutch onto a pillow to control herself.

“And!” you continue. “I was working out with Derek once and Hotch came in the gym with gray sweats and his dick looks humongous. It was a huge fucking bulge. I think I saw it twitching.”

Penelope slaps her hands over her ears, playfully grimacing at your words while Emily chugs the remains of her glass, absolutely baffled. You didn’t mind, sex and boys were common conversation topics during girl’s night (and sometimes when Emily would catch you making eyes at someone.

The rest of the night continued the same, though less talk about Hotch’s big dick and more on whether you all should make more jello shots. By the time you’re coming up with an answer, it’s five in the morning and all four of you are knocked out from the alcohol in your system. Even in your drunk state, you knew you’d wake up to a pounding headache.

When Derek calls in the morning, telling everyone about a new case, you’re all moody and grumpy. Hotch wanted everyone in even though he had given the day off, so no one was jumping for joy especially not in your hangover state.

Despite drinking the most, Emily drives the four of you back to the BAU, mumbling obscenities under her breath on the way. When you enter the elevator, Derek is there, causing all of you to groan at his presence. One look at you and he laughs loudly, knowing what had transpired the night before.

You wish you could shoot his foot.

In the briefing room, Hotch apologizes for having you all come in on your day off, pausing to glance at you before presenting the case. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid that much attention to it, your headache taking up your attention. Fire, serial arsonist, fifteen dead, Seattle.

“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch announces, walking across the table. As the team filters out of the room, he calls your name. “In my office, please. I want to discuss something with you.”

Confused, you follow him to his office, pushing through your headache to think about what he could possibly want to speak to you about. You come up blank, even more confused when you see him lock the door to his office as you enter. “Did I do something wrong?”

Hotch shook his head, moving past you to his desk. He picks up something and turns around. In his hands are three pennies, and he’s holding them out to you. “Three cents.”

You’re getting deja vu on the words, and it’s not until several seconds of standing in silence and confusion that it clicks. Three cents. You blush, looking at the pennies. “I don’t understand.”

“You said you’d suck and fuck me for three cents,” he smirks at your shock, placing the coins in your hands.

“What–”

Hotch unbuckles his belt, causing you to stop mid-sentence. “You’ve got twenty-eight minutes to suck my cock. Get to work.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner smut

[sgtgarricks]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ your gentle hands are enough

simon riley x afab!reader cw: nsfw, angst kinda?, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, praise kink, creampie!!, reader referred as 'pet' like twice, smut with sadness, hurt/kinda comfort, mention of johnny's death, simon is scared of commitment :(, we still love him.

reblogs are immensely appreciated! <3

NEXT PART (HEA): i want your hands on me for all my life

notes: my first ever fic that i'm posting on this site !! feedback is appreciated ♡ dedicated to @rowarn for being lovely and entertaining my rambles!

You and Simon weren't exactly dating.

He visits you almost every night whenever he's in the city and he's always gone before you're out of bed. But you relish on the rare occasions that you're awake before him — the moments you get to brush your hand through the raised scars littered all across his face, the moments you get to tangle your fingers in his hair to hear his little grunts.

Simon Riley has rough hands, scarred and calloused from years in the battlefield. Yet when those hands are caressing your body softly, you know he's being unnecessarily gentle to not let you feel the roughness in his hands — as if he was trying to prevent all the hurt and pain he's inflicted with his fists from bleeding into you.

You pretend to have only just woken up, eyes blinking slowly trying to adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the blinds.

"Morning, Si."

"G'morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?" He places a warm palm on your hip, not fulling resting the weight of it.

"I always do when you're here." You raised your hand to his chest and feel his heart thumping steadily below you. His body always runs hot no matter the weather and it makes you nuzzle into him more during the bleak winter.

Silence engulfs the two of you, lulling you into a vulnerable state of bliss as you recall the events of last night.

You had barely opened the door for him last night before his hands were all over you, lips crashing onto yours as he kissed you with desperation. Strong hands working swiftly to remove your clothes gently as he pushed you towards the bedroom.

Simon was always gentle with you, but you've been with him long enough to know the difference between him missing you and him scared at the thought of missing you.

Instead of gently laying you down on the plush mattress, he pushed you with a little bit of force than usual.

"Simon!" You yelp. You must've been too distracted by him to fully notice that he was now fully naked below you.

He had a glint in his eye that let you know you were not going to be able to rest until he coaxed multiple orgasms from you.

His hand was constantly on your body, not wanting to go for a second without feeling your skin under his. Greedy kisses were peppered all across your collarbone that were now marked with the imprint of his teeth.

You knew Simon was trying to memorize every inch of your body, leave his marks on you because he was going to go back on deployment soon.

This realization is what snaps you out of your peaceful reverie. That your Simon is going to leave you soon.

The mere thought of having to see him leave your apartment in a few hours and not getting to see him for another week? Months?

It leaves a sour taste in your mouth that made you frown and turn your head away.

Simon, ever so vigilant, notices your downturned lips. He cups your chin and swivels it to face him. He nudges his nose with yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

You hate that he was playing dumb. Hates that he thinks you don't know his antics by now. Hates that he thinks you don't know him by now.

"You know why, Si." Pushing your hands on the plush bed, you rest your back on the headboard. You stare at Simon disapprovingly, upset that he's trying to pretend everything is fine.

He sighs heavily and run his hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was.

"How do you know?" He finally lets out, still laying down on his side staring up at you.

You scoff at him. Maybe because you've seen him through his highs-and-lows. You've seen his little smirk at your antics. Listened to his stories intently as he fondly recalls memories with his squad mates.

But you've also seen him coming to you bloody, battered, bruised, and shaking as you stitched his back. You've seen him scare himself awake at night, dreaming about the last time he saw Johnny.

He chuckles when you stare at him pointedly and finally sits up. He waits for you to stop sulking for a few minutes, before sighing once more.

The bed creaks with his weight as he tries to stand up from it, turning towards the window. You know what's coming next and you are fully aware there's nothing you can do to stop him from going on deployment.

What you can do, is at least try to make him stay a little bit longer.

You crawl forward from your position, throwing both your arms around his wide torso — at least try to, he's way too wide for you to fully engulf him in your arms.

"Don't go."

Your lips are pressed against his back as you softly plead with him to not go. Simon takes both your arms in his hands and angles his upper body towards you. Slowly, you move up from your sprawled-out position and kneel in front of him.

"Please." You slowly pull away your arms from his grip. He reluctantly lets you go before you slowly wrap them behind his neck. You inch closer to him, slowly leaning down and kissing his neck.

Simon moans languidly, still groggy.

"You play dirty, love." He cups your behind, angling his neck upwards to give you more access.

"You love it."

"Being cheeky, are you?" You grin against his neck, biting down softly. Arching your neck subtly as Simon tugged on your hair.

These were truly the moments you truly enjoy the most. Not that you don't enjoy sleeping with him, you definitely do. But being able to love him freely in the daylight made it much more intimate.

You suspect it's why Simon always tried his best to leave before the sun came up.

You know Simon loves you, albeit in his own unique way. He's never been nothing but kind and gentle to you, always making sure you feel safe and taken care of with him. From locking your door with the spare key he has after he leaves, to making sure to take care of you after having sex — always gets up to clean any messes he had left on your body with gentle wipes and ending it with a soft kiss to your forehead.

Despite your numerous attempts to get him to open up about his past, he doesn't bite often. Though, you know some part of him wants nothing more than to tell you every single thing about himself when he speaks little snippets of his past.

He doesn't tell you anything overly upsetting, always keeping it minimal and with as little details of violence as possible.

Perhaps, his idea of a small mercy.

Maybe he thinks he's doing you a favor, giving you little bits of himself hoping you eventually realize how damaged he is. He doesn't understand how those flickers of vulnerability makes you hungrier for more of him. You wanted him, thorns and all.

Simon lets himself get roped back into your arms, all his muscles relaxed, no trace any tautness or rigidness lingering. He feels safe in your arms.

"How long Simon?" You finally ask, preparing for the worst.

Simon was mostly gone for around a month.

But on the rare times you couldn't see him for more than half a year, it was like hell. It hurt so deeply knowing even if he had been killed off somewhere, you might not even know. The only traces left of him would only be the few shirts he's let you take and the Simon-shaped hole he would have left in your heart.

It scared you that you could never be able to smell his earthy musk lingering in your sheets again, that it would fade one day and you wouldn't remember what it smelled like anymore.

"I dunno. More or less three months?"

You hated when he was vague. He was often trying to spare your feelings.

"So... more."

He nods with his face still hiding in your neck. You can feel him press his nose harder and inhale deeply.

Deep down, you feel crushed. You always do when he has to leave. You want to tell him how much you love him again, how much you need him, and you wanted him to say it back so badly.

You thought you had gotten so far with him, slowly breaking down his walls after getting him to start staying over instead of leaving. Something changed after he lost Johnny — he was more touchy, more clingy, but he never let you get any closer anymore. You could physically feel him wince if you told him you loved him during one of your vulnerable moments.

The first time you told him you loved him, he looked at you with a somber look. He didn't say anything, but he pulled you close and gave you a bone-crushing hug.

I'm sorry.

He gave different reactions every time. Some days he'd simply sigh and drag his fingers through your hair lovingly. On worse days, he'd shake his head and do nothing else.

It was like an impenetrable wall had suddenly appeared when it wasn't there before.

You take a deep breath. Simon has been nothing but gentle with fragile you. He's been trying his best to not taint the heart that you've freely ripped out of your chest for him.

Maybe this time, you can do something for him and let him go back without the weight of your love on his shoulder.

"Better make the most of it then, eh?" You pull back from him and hear a grunt of protest. You start pushing him until his back hit the headboard gently. Kissing your way down to his groin, you tug at his boxers impatiently.

"Sweetheart you don't have to-"

"I want to." You cut him off.

"Fuck. You're gonna be the death o' me, love." He lifts his hips and lets you drag his boxers down, revealing his semi-hardness.

God, his cock is so beautiful. It's so thick you could barely wrap both your hands around it even when he's not fully hard.

"I'll make sure to send you off gently with a kiss, Simon." Your mouth slowly engulfs the tip of his cock, licking all around it. Simon lets out a groan as he grabs your head gently.

"Oh, fuck. That's it, sweetheart. So sweet, being so good f' me." He encourages sweetly and it's enough to get you preening and moving your head excitedly down his length.

Just as you know his habits, Simon also knows what makes you tick. Getting praised by him almost always makes you putty in his hands and he makes sure to take advantage of this information to its full potential. He loves to praise you even for the smallest of things, such as cooking for him when he gets back.

Telling you how lovely you are and how he's thankful for you taking the time to cook for grumpy, old, Simon.

You continue taking more of his length in your mouth, gaggling slightly from the sheer size of him. You can taste the salty precum on your tongue and your eyes roll back from pleasure, taking him in more enthusiastically.

"Slow down, love. Don't want- ugh.. you t' hurt yourself." Simon tries to pull your head back to give you space, but you're not happy about it. You glare up at him best as you can before taking him down to the hilt.

Nose pressed deep, you can smell the slight tang of his musk, making you slightly delirious. You moan, sending vibrations up throughout his body.

Simon trembles with pleasure, groaning.

"Yeah, you like that sweetheart? Love choking on my cock? Hmm?"

At his words, you slowly take your mouth off of him, replacing it with your hands. Slick from your spit and his precum, your hand glides along his shaft easily as he bucks into your hand.

"Mhm.." You put your mouth on him once more, only pulling away to rub it all over your face. "Love it so much, Si. Love having your cock in my mouth. Can't live without it."

Simon admires you, cockdrunk on his leaking shaft. Even with his mess all over your face as you slobber on him, he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous.

Looking up at him, it's like you can see hearts in his eyes. You've been wet since the moment you woke up to him next to you, but him looking at you like you're the only person he wants to see on him makes you feel on top of the world.

Unable to take it anymore, you whine pathetically and start humping the bed.

Simon sees you writhing on the bed below him and chuckles as you continue kissing all over his cock.

"Look at you.. so needy, sweetheart. You don't need to hump the bed like a dog in heat. I'm right here, love." With that, he gently pulls you off his cock. You groan dismay, body going slightly limp from desperation.

"Need you so bad, Si." You beg him, tears starting to form in your eyes. You think you're going to crazy if he doesn't fuck you soon. He's about to leave soon for months and you're desperate for him to leave his mark on you.

Simon gently tuts and caresses your cheek. He's in awe of how he's got such a lovely, needy, pet wrapped around his finger. He hasn't had someone this devoted to him in a very long time — someone who's always excited to see him come home, someone who's never asked for him for more than what he can give.

Maybe it makes him a narcissist that he's happy of the fact that you're so desperately in love with him, you'd rather have parts of him than not at all.

But during early mornings where he'd find you sniffling into your pillow, he feels pain in his chest where his heart resides. He knows you cry over him.

He mourns the love that you two could have, but he'd rather mourn over the fantasy he's created in his head — the fantasy where he wasn't fucked up and is able to receive the kind of love you freely give, than have you be heartbroken when Simon inevitably doesn't come home one day.

"I got you, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good." He rumbles against your lips. In a split second, he'd managed to lay you out on the bed and now hovered above you.

He takes a moment to stare at your face. Wide-eyed, sweating, and panting heavily. He peppers kisses all over your face.

His little pet all worked up over sucking his cock.

He's staring at you for a few seconds, making you writhe around, but you never break his stare. It was as if the both of you were trying to commit each other's faces to memory right in this moment, not knowing when you were going to be able to see each other again.

You bring your hand up to his face, slightly wiping the sweat away from his eyes.

His eyes.

The moment he looked at you, you know you were done for. Those eyes never fail to send shivers through your whole body, as if your entire being was standing to attention when his eyes were on you.

"You're so pretty, Simon."

That seemed to break him out of his trance. He grunts slightly as if disagreeing with your statement. You sigh, knowing he's never going to see himself the way you see him.

That's okay. You'll spend as much time as he'll give you to convince him.

Simon kisses and caresses down your body as you moan from the feel of it. Teasing you with his lips and leaving small marks all over. When he gets to your thighs, he slowly raises both of them as he lightly rubs his scruffy chin on it.

"Lift those pretty legs f' me, hm?"

When you don't respond, he gently bites to get your attention and you huff. You grasp your bedsheets so tight your knuckles were going white when you feel his hot breath on you.

"Such a pretty pussy. Just for me, yeah?" He kisses your folds gently, the sensation of his scruff causing a prickly sensation, making you wail in pleasure.

"S-Simon!" You were so needy and sensitive — Simon loved that about you.

"So sensitive." He murmurs against your weeping pussy. He runs his finger across your folds, gathering the wetness. You look down at him as he tastes your wetness on his finger.

"Fuck, Simon."

"Mm, my favorite taste."

After a few moments of simply kissing all around your folds and your clit, Simon decides to stop teasing you. He presses his face in your folds and licks a stripe across it.

He repeats this action multiple times, sucking on your little bud in between. He rolls his finger around your clit as his mouth makes suckling noises. The sensation of his tongue and finger on you make you gasp loudly — your eyes rolling back.

You arch your back and don't stop chanting Simon's name like a prayer. Like he was going to disappear if you stopped calling his name.

"That's it. Let me hear what you want, pretty." He brings two of his fingers back inside your walls, lightly caressing them. He's teasing you, waiting for you to beg him to put his fingers inside of you. You break instantly, begging for him to use his thick fingers to please you.

"Please, Simon. Please, please, please. Need your fingers in me."

How could Simon deny you when you beg so sweetly?

Humming against you, he slowly sinks his fingers inside your aching walls. You sigh in contentment, unconsciously clenching on his fingers.

"Relax love, you're choking my fingers." You relax a bit at his words, trying to get your breathing back to normal. The death grip you

It seems that Simon had other ideas, because as soon as you loosened, his fingers started picking up. You start wailing again at his sudden shift in pace, grabbing his hand that was gripping your thigh.

His hand lets go of your thigh and entwines it with yours.

"Doing so good for me. You can take it, sweetheart. Be good and cum on my fingers, yeah?" At this point the both of you were panting heavily, his heavy cock still leaking precum onto the bedsheets. You didn't realize it before, but you're just now realizing how the bed is creaking from his hips.

Simon pants heavily, the room getting warmer by the second. His heavy groans makes your pussy throb around his fingers as you feel a pressure building in your lower belly.

"Si- please. So close."

Knowing you're close sends him over the edge, his tongue works faster and sloppier in tandem with his fingers. Simon moans and and your back starts to arch higher than before.

You're now making a mess on the bedsheets, wet noises can be heard loudly as it echoes throughout the entire room. You feel hot, sweaty, and suddenly everything's too much.

The lights are too bright, the noises too loud, and you feel so sensitive it burns.

"Simon, I-" You whine, legs starting to thrash as Simon pulled his fingers away to hold your legs. You feel your nerves lighting awake as you feel every single sensation as he sinks his tongue inside.

"Love you Si, love you so much. I'm—" Your body seizes and freezes for a moment and a little flick of his tongue against your bud makes you lose it. Your orgasm washes through you like a crashing wave, causing you to tremble in his hold and let out gasps as you struggle to breath normally and let your legs fall.

Simon lets you catch your breath as he lifts himself up, still hard. You rest your eyes on him and you see him lick his lips — his entire mouth and chin shiny with your slick.

He hovers above you once more, leaning down to give you a kiss. You reach up enthusiastically, pulling him down by his neck. He grunts at the sudden force as you slant your lips against his. It's messy, his lips slick with spit and yours with a small trace of drool. The kiss is desperate, teeth knocking into each other more than once.

It goes on for a while before Simon starts to pull back. Before he's successful, you wrap both your legs around his waist and Simon gasps at the sensation of his cock pressed against your slick.

"Need you inside, Simon. Want you in me." Murmuring against his lips, your hand desperately wanders down his sweaty body and grips his cock.

He lets out a grunt at the sudden warmth enveloping him and is unable to control as his hips involuntarily thrust forward.

"Yeah? You want my cock? Take it, sweetheart. It's all yours." He watches in a daze as you slowly align him with you. The moment he feels his tip rub on your slippery folds, he lets out a whimper.

"Please Si.." You whisper to him. "Wanna feel you inside me so bad." Simon coos at you, seeing you beg him to fuck you never fails to make his brain circuit for a few seconds.

He teases you a few seconds longer, just to hear you beg more for him. He begins to feel bad when you start humping the air in hopes of getting his head inside you.

You're babbling incoherently now, eyes closed, hands wandering all over Simon's body. He gives you mercy and starts to push inside your throbbing hole. It takes a bit of time, but when his head manages to push through, he's already able to feel your walls pulsate around him.

"Oh, sweetheart. So needy f' me." He's also barely coherent, his eyes focused on his cock deeper inside your tight hole. "What are you gonna do when I'm gone, hm? Who's gonna fuck you this good?" Simon barely realizes what he's saying until he's spoken them. The thought of someone else fucking you when he's gone lights a fire inside him.

"Oh, fuck." His cock is fully in you now and you can feel every vein pulsating inside of you. Your hands are gripping Simon harder, possibly leaving red marks all over his body — you relish in the thought of Simon looking in the mirror and seeing the marks you left on him. "No one, Si. No one's gonna fuck me as good as you. Don' want you to go. Want you here with me." Your mouth hangs open uselessly, overwhelmed with the pressure of Simon in you.

Hearing you admit so openly you weren't going to fuck anyone else drives Simon even crazier. You realize now how much of an impact your words have on Simon when he starts pounding your poor pussy that was still sensitive.

"Yeah? That's right, sweetheart. No one can fuck you like I can." It takes him a few seconds to get his words out, huffing above you. You can barely hear what he's saying, ears ringing from the blinding white, hot pleasure coursing through your entire body. Your hands try gripping him as long as you can but his thrusts are causing your body to jostle relentlessly, and now your arms flail helplessly before holding onto the headboard.

Simon is no longer on his forearm, his head resting in the crook of your neck as his hands grip your waist. You're sure his hands are going to leave prints in the morning from how hard he's gripping you.

You don't mind at all.

Your brain feels foggy, only speaking Simon's name over and over again. Simon's no better than you, grunting and groaning at every thrust that leads him deeper into your hole.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He moans. "So good for me, so sweet for me." Your legs no longer have the energy to stay corded behind his back, limping helplessly beside you as Simon fucks you.

You feel another orgasm creeping up on you as your walls begin to clench around Simon's cock. Simon hisses at the feeling, leaning up to look at your cream gathering at the base of him. He looks up to the ceiling, gasping in pleasure.

"Si, I'm so close, I-" He brings his head down to give you a chaste kiss before pulling away, nose touching yours and staring into your eyes.

"Let go f' me, sweetheart. Gonna cum on my cock and be good?" He coaxes you, one of his hands going to your face. You don't even realize you're crying until Simon wipes your tears away.

You can't take it anymore, the loving look in his eyes and feeling him inside you breaks you.

"Love you so much, Si. I love you so fucking much." You cry out to him as you're finally sent over the edge. You wail loudly, back arching as Simon continues to thrust at a slower pace, going deeper than before.

"God, fuck. I love you, I love you. Fuck." He continues to mumble against your neck. Your jaw goes slack and another orgasm seizes your body as you clench and gush all over him.

His thighs are drenched from your slick and when he feels your walls pulsing repeatedly over him, he feels shivers all over his body and he cums.

The blinding pleasure takes him off guard, thighs shaking from the sheer force. He continues thrusting shallowly, dragging out his orgasm as his cum fills up your hole to the brim.

He gasps and bites down on your neck, not stopping until he's fully come down from his high.

You're shell shocked, one hand over your eyes as you thinking about what just transpired. This was nothing like before. He'd never said 'I love you', ever. You take a moment to regain your thoughts, heart thumping wildly.

By this point, your hopes had soared like never before, the small part of you that still believes you can have something with Simon begins crawling out of you — coming back alive.

"Si-" You start as you catch your breath and lift your head slightly to look at him.

"Sorry." He mumbles lifting himself from your body, plopping himself on the pillow beside you.

There's nothing but silence for a few minutes. A part of you wants nothing more than to confront him, get him to face his feelings. But you know Simon and that if you did that, he'd panic.

So, you wait. And wait. And wait.

Until he coughs.

"I have to go. Supposed to meet the boys in an hour." He grumbles, fumbling around to get himself off the bed and find his clothes.

Your heart breaks. Was he really going to go away for a few months without talking about what just happened? You had to make a choice. Either speak now or forever hold your peace.

"Simon." You speak with such a finality in your tone that it renders Simon frozen. He pauses putting his pants back on and stares up at you, terrified.

"I love you." You say, loud and clear. You've told him you loved him in the throes of passion and in the sleepy haze of early mornings, but never when both of you were wide awake. Like a secret that's only meant to be whispered so as to not let it get snuffed out.

You see his eyes widen for a fraction of a second. He seems to debate what he wants to say. You badly wish for him to just say something, anything at all.

He doesn't.

Simon continues to put on his pants and slip his shirt over his head. Once he finally gains the courage to look at you once more, he had to clear his throat. The forlorn look on your face would haunt him until the day he dies.

He knows you love him so deeply and honestly, that there was no questioning your devotion to him. He knows that you feel for him so deeply, you'd rather hurt yourself over and over than let him go.

But he's also once harbored care and affection to someone, fighting side-by-side with someone he thought was going to never stop speaking gibberish in his ear.

If Simon almost couldn't survive losing Johnny, there was no way you were going to survive losing him.

With his heart in his throat, Simon stares at you, fighting back tears that threaten to escape. God, he wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you and tell you he loves you more than anything in this world. That he'd fight through any battlefield with broken limbs just to come home to you. But he knows he can't give you that promise. That promise that he's going to die of old age with you.

He expects you to cry or scream, but nothing in the world would be able to heal the way Simon's heart breaks when you only give him a sad smile.

"That's okay. I know you're not selfish enough to love me back."

He knows he should just leave, but he can't help himself from hurting you once more. Simon steps forward, cradles your head in his hands and lay a kiss atop your head.

And then, he leaves.

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod x reader #simon riley angst #simon ghost riley angst #cod ghost x reader #sgtales

[jamminvroomvroom]

Hey girlll I love your blog so so so much! Congrats on the 4k bc you absolutely deserve it🫶🏼

I just had a little angsty request for Charles lando or Oscar (you can pick any you’re feeling more atm, I eat up anything ab my boys)

I saw this prompt maybe you could use - - "I can be there when you need me!" "But I did, and you weren't."

late night talking.

op x fem norris!reader

in which lando’s little sister has been sneaking around with his teammate, but it’s starting to have its challenges…

hiiiii thank u sm anon! love this request love you MWAH! so appreciative of this request and all of the others and that y’all trust me to bring your ideas to life!! i hope this hits the way you wanted it to! let me know what you think, big love 🤍

songs to set the mood: late night talking by harry styles, i love you by billie eilish, over my head by james marriott, if these walls could talk by 5sos

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, secret relationship, brothers teammate trope (r is lando’s sister), fingering, morning sex, angsty needy sex, lando being an embarrassing little shit

4.1k words

sex and talking. sex and talking. sex and talking.

that’s what you do, oscar and you.

you watch him all weekend, eyes trailing his lean frame, the way his body moves under papaya fabric. then, when your brother finally leaves you alone, you sneak into oscar’s arms, room, bed, whatever’s closest.

you have your way with one another, nothing untouched, unexplored, and then you talk and talk until your lips hurt from stretched out grins and a satisfying ache sets into your spent limbs. you sneak out when the sun comes up the next day and join lando for breakfast in whatever hotel you’re in that weekend.

rinse, repeat.

you can remember the first time you saw him in real life, way back in early 2023, clear as day. you were in bahrain with your brother for testing, the sun in your eyes, and there he was. awkward, stocky, hands buried deep in his mclaren administered slacks. he was littered with moles, mousey brown hair catching the rays of light, chocolate eyes conveying cool confidence that didn’t at all match up with his uncomfortable stance. you could kiss over those moles like a game of dot to dot, tug on his strands that looked like smooth chocolate frosting, sink into his brown irises until you drowned.

lando had caught you staring, sending his elbow into your ribs, and when you turned to glare at him, cuss him out, you saw a look of warning. his eyes said: don’t you fucking dare.

and you didn’t dare, not for a while at least.

-

“o-osc.” you whine, panting through the waves of eye-watering pleasure.

he’s got you laid out across his massage table, two fingers scissoring into your sodden cunt as his thumb bumps your clit in messy circles.

it’s rare that you sneak away so brazenly like this during a race weekend.

“you gotta be quiet.” oscar shushes you, eyes flitting between your own watery pair and his fingers where they’re working you open.

“trying.” you breathe, slapping your own hand over your mouth when your belly tightens one last time. one wrong move and the entirety of the hospitality suite will know. lando will know. perhaps all of china will know. that’s how good he fucking feels.

you sob into your palm, bucking your hips wildly as you fall apart, spilling all around his relentless fingers. he fucks you through it, grinning coyly as your muffled cries subside.

“c’mere.” oscar lulls, pulling you back towards him. he kisses you deeply, smiling against your lips.

“i should go.” you mumble, pushing his hair back and raking your fingers through his hair.

oscar nods apathetically, reserved all of the sudden. you frown, stealing another quick kiss. you stumble to your feet fixing your underwear and your skirt, and grab your bag from the small sofa.

“we need to be more careful.” his words make your blood run cold.

“more careful?”

you sneak in and out of hotel rooms under the cover of night, you have his name disguised in your phone, you never speak to him in public.

“this was risky.” oscar shrugs. he looks antsy, his entire demeanour changing in a matter of minutes, the ecstasy of watching you writhe all for him worn off.

“this- i- you’re the one who dragged me in here, piastri.” you accuse. ‘piastri’ is reserved for when you’re pissed off, a cagey step back from the affection ‘osc’ that you usually called him. “whatever, i’ve got to go.”

“i’ll see you later?” he poses it as a question, uncertain that you’ll show. he has never been uncertain before, not with you, not with a lot of things. bile rises in your throat, and you scoff.

you can’t reply. the door slams behind you.

-

“where’ve you been?” lando ruffles your hair, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“got bored with watching you look at data so i went for a walk.” you reply nonchalantly, pushing his hand away.

he hums in response, nodding slowly. it’s like he doesn’t quite believe you but he quickly moves on.

“you coming out with us after the race tomorrow?” lando asks.

“depends on who ‘us’ is.” you reply curtly. you don’t wanna look at oscar’s stupid, handsome face for a second longer than you have to. a familiar sadness sinks into your bones.

“couple of the drivers, alex, carlos, oh and oscar might even be swayed.” you grit your teeth, suddenly frustrated. “anyway, since when do you have beef with drivers? little miss sunshine fallen out with someone?” lando sounds confused, accusatory.

you stay silent, walking into the back of the garage, praying someone will come and steal your brother away.

“hey, you gonna tell me what the problem i-?”

“lando, we need you to look at this.” your brother gets cut off by a frantic engineer, your prayers answered, and is quickly lost to the chaos of the garage.

a pair of warm eyes burn into the side of your head. you turn to see oscar watching you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s studying you. he’s fidgeting, playing with his fingers, something strange for the man as cool as a cucumber. you look away as quickly as you can, managing to tear your eyes away from him, a lump forming in your throat which you swallow down.

it’s painful, really. sex and talking, it’s not enough, never has been for even a second. oscar piastri, australian f1 driver, number 81, quickly became your oscar, somewhat against your will.

-

somewhere in hungary, about 8 months ago

“are we really doing this, piastri?” you giggle, throwing your head back as his lips work your neck.

“need you.” he groans into your skin, low and needy. you’ve never heard him sound so disheveled, so desperate, a far cry from his usual, monotonous self.

“want you, osc.” you pant when his lips find your sweet spot, the feeling of him so delicious on your body.

“have me.” he whispers, falling into bed with you in his lap.

you lay there basking in stunned silence afterwards, a layer of sweat coating your knackered body. your shoulder is pressed flush with oscar’s, not an inch of space between you while you both stare at the ceiling, sporting matching lazy grins.

“i can’t believe we did that.” oscar mutters, a layer of disbelief in his voice.

“i think we should do it again.” you tease, except you are deadly serious.

“agreed.” he breathes.

“this stays between us, right?” you whisper, shyly.

“always.”

-

always makes your skin crawl now. you’re sick of having him in the dark, of having to avoid him in public for fear of turning into a lovesick fool. it’s embarrassing, really, unrequited love.

you can barely follow qualifying, staring blankly at the empty space in the garage where oscar’s car resides. you manage to catch the radio message through the headset you have on, the one where oscar’s muttering about a stupid mistake that’s just knocked him out. he’s limping back to the pits, licking his wounds.

you feel a pang in your chest, sympathetic and disappointed for him. you wonder what his mistake was, where his mind was. you’ll wait for the right moment, swallow the ache in your heart and your pride, and you’ll comfort him. he gets led away by frustrated engineers immediately, studying lines of data with furrowed eyebrows. you watch from afar, but then your heart sinks to your feet when four words sound through your headphones.

“lando, are you okay?”

will sounds stressed, repeating the four words that make your world stop spinning on its axis. everyone in the garage is staring at the tv screen, breaths held, stomachs tight.

your brothers car sits in tatters, carbon fibre littering the track. you can see the fluorescents of his helmet burrowed in the cockpit, still. your mouth hangs open, one hand clutching your chest, the other covering your quivering lips. you’re numb.

that feeling returns, the one of eyes burning into your weathered features. your wide eyes flit to the australian boy watching you from across the garage, and you beg silently for him to just come to you, pull you close, tell you that lando is okay and that he loves you back.

and lando is okay, his winded voice reassuring you over the radio.

but you stand there alone.

just like always.

-

somewhere in brazil, about 5 months ago

“what’s your favourite colour?” oscar mumbles lazily, lips bumping your cheekbone.

you’re curled up on his lap watching the sunset from his balcony. he was well behind lando after qualifying, and he’d craved a moment alone with you all day.

the air was thick, humid, the hot orange sun sinking far off in the horizon. you turn to face him, his features illuminated by the hazy glow. the sunlight makes his chocolate eyes sparkle warmly, so pretty.

“brown.” you whisper, scanning his face.

he laughs lowly, his chest rumbling.

“brown?” he questions teasingly.

“yep.” you grin, pecking his lips softly.

“why?”

“go look at those pretty eyes of yours in the mirror.” you retort smoothly, threading your fingers through his shower-damp strands.

“you flirting with me?”

“you bet i am.”

you twist back around, facing the view once more, moulding into his body. he kisses over your shoulder, resting his chin. you stay there content until the sun is gone and the stars twinkle.

-

the air in the room is thick, awkwardly silent.

he stands leaning against the desk, opposite where you sit on your bed. the lights are low in your hotel room, the imprint of your body still fresh against the mattress. you’d been crying when he knocked, eyes rimmed red, skin flushed raw.

“you just stood there.” you croak.

“love, i-“

“don’t call me that. please.”

hurt flashes across his features, but like he knows it’s not fair of him to complain, he buries it immediately.

“i just… will you hear me out?” oscar pleads quietly.

you nod feebly.

“it’s impossible. this, us. i wanted to go to you but i- i couldn’t, i didn’t know how that would look and i didn’t want to jeopardise this.”

“but you did.” you whisper. his face shatters, falling fast.

“no, no, i can be there when you need me-“

“but you weren’t!” you cry, your body physically sinking, your shoulders drooping.

“i can fix this, i will.”

“i think we need to stop this, osc. it’s too painful for me. i’ve tried to move past the hurt but after today…” your voice shakes and you crumble, the first tear falling.

“i’m not trying to hurt you.” he crosses the space between you in two rushed steps, collapsing to his knees before you.

“that’s not good enough.” you bite back. “i’m not going to be some guys dirty little secret. i won’t do it anymore oscar.”

“i was trying to protect you… this.” he gestures between you desperately

“i know, oscar. i know! but i never asked you to do that. i can’t love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life.” the words slip from your tongue, abrasive and messy, before your brain can catch up.

you grimace, biting your tongue, but oscar’s reaction couldn’t be further from your own. his watery eyes widen, pink lips pulling into a boyish grin.

“i don’t want to love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life either.” oscar whispers, tentatively taking your hands. you stare down at your slowly intertwining fingers, a familiar warmth oozing through your body. “i wanna love you everywhere.”

“show me.” you murmur through shaky breath.

“i will.” he leans in, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “for as long as you let me, i will.”

“just come here.” your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, one born of frustration, and longing, and a year of late night talking about everything except how much you love each other.

oscar pushes you back onto the bed, crawling over you, starving. you pull him flush against you, leaving no room between your bodies. you crave the feel of his entire weight pressing you into the mattress and as he does, you feel at home. when you pull apart, catching your breaths, he says it properly, for the first time, and the world gets lighter.

“i love you.” oscar cups your jaw, those chocolate eyes boring into yours, the intensity of it knocking you for six. “always.” he adds.

the meaning of the word changes. always doesn’t mean a shameful, taboo secret anymore. life is breathed into the six lettered word; always means you and him, together, finally out of the shadows.

“i love you, osc.” you whisper.

he’s smiling when he kisses you again, unbuttoning your blouse like he’ll die if he doesn’t get the offending item off of your frame. you retaliate by shoving his t-shirt up his back, tugging greedily at it to strip him bare. the material comes off easily and as he sits up to throw it away, you shrug off your blouse and it meets his shirt on the floor. his hands smooth over your curves, brushing the pudge of your belly as he finds the zip of your skirt, ruining the fasten in his state of haste. you barely notice the way he’s ruined the item of clothing, urgently unbuttoning his jeans. your underwear is gone too, nothing separating you but your bra, restless hands on heated skin.

“we need to be quiet.” you breathe. “lando’s next door.” oscar giggles, tinged pink.

“get on top, love.” he drawls, flipping onto his back and taking you with him.

he sits up with you in his lap, nothing anchoring either of you in the middle of the bed. the imprint of your devastated form is gone, replaced by the shape of him. you can feel the head of his cock nudging through your folds, slicking him up so that he can slide nice and deep. he trails his fingers between your legs, thumbing at your clit in deft circles, just the way he knows you like it. you’re mewling in his lap, grinding down on the pad of his thumb; it’s so good but it’s not enough.

“please, osc.” you pant, urging him to let you sink down on his cock. you can see how red it is, feel the way it throbs for you, and the need to be full of him is almost paralysing.

“come on, pretty girl. fill yourself up.” oscar mutters against the shell of your ear.

he kisses down your throat as you slide down on him, dropping your hips firm against his.

“fuck.” you cry, your forehead falling against his shoulder.

“you okay, sweetheart? feel so good for me.” oscar coos, his fingertips digging hard into your hips.

“so good, baby.” your head rolls back, feeling him hit that spot tucked away within your walls.

your breaths mingle, your breasts flush against his chest, and as if he realises that he never stripped you of your pesky bra, he grunts, unclasping the black lace and flinging it somewhere far away. he gently mumbles an awestruck “fuck”, as if he hasn’t seen your tits a million and one times before, and latches onto your nipple. his tongue works in slow circles, matching the pace of your hips working languidly on his cock, and you keen further into his body.

“prettiest girl for me.” oscar grits out, his eyes squeezing shut when you clamp down on him, hard.

you’re both trying so hard to be quiet, overwhelmed by touch and taste, love. you’re growing tired, hurtling towards a desperate release, and oscar can sense it, the feel of your quivering thighs tightening around his hips spurring him on. he grinds up into you, maintaining your pace, but he’s fucking you harder now, the anticipation of your release sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna cum for me?” oscar grunts, holding your hips down against him. you can’t move, his hold too tight and your body too tired, all you can do is wait for your orgasm to hit like a ton of bricks. you nod frantically.

“yes, oscar, please baby.” you beg for it, and like the true gentleman he is, the calloused pad of his pointer finger finds its home on your clit, sending you into an upwards spiral.

it’s as if you’re levitating when you let go, in a dreamlike state, your teeth sinking hard into his pale shoulder to muffle a surefire whine of his name. he’s rutting into you, prolonging the bliss.

“cum inside of me.” you urge, voice barely above a whisper. well, you’ve certainly never done this before.

oscar’s eyes roll into the back of his head, tears pricking his lash line. a guttural gasp of your name spills from his lips when he lets go, painting your insides warm and white. you stare at the tiny indents your teeth had left on his thick shoulder, his breath hitting the crook of your neck warm and wet as he comes down.

“‘m yours, and i’m here. i’m always gonna be here, i promise.” oscar speaks so quietly that you wonder if you’ve imagined it.

-

“when i made that mistake today, i was thinking about you.”

you’ve been laying there in silence for a while now, tucked under his arm when he speaks. you turn to look at him, perplexed.

“what?”

“i felt so awful about what i said after we, you know. you looked so upset with me, and i don’t blame you.” oscar sighs.

“i just don’t want to feel like a shameful secret, osc.” you tell him quietly, the words heavy on your tongue.

“you won’t, not anymore. ‘m so sorry, sweetheart.” he lulls, kissing over your hairline.

“how do we make this work? and how are we ever gonna explain this to-“

“lando.” oscar cuts you off, shifting uncomfortable. “he’s going to murder me and my entire bloodline.” he chuckles nervously.

“he won’t murder you. he might put you in a gravel trap, though.” you roll onto your side, smiling teasingly up at him and he rolls his eyes.

“i’ll take the heat. you’re worth it.”

-

“promise me.” you pant, his hips grinding into you. you’re curled into his chest, still spooning and barely awake. he’d woken up needy, and you were even needier, the faint glow of early morning sunshine washing over you through a crack in the beige curtains.

“anything.” oscar stutters, his breath warm against the back of your neck. his nose bumps your skin, teeth scraping the shell of your ear.

you stop meeting his thrusts. he whines low, wordlessly pleading for you to resume. he ruts his hips against your ass, chasing friction.

“tell me it’s all gonna be different now.”

“i already told you, i-“ oscar grunts.

“promise me.” you purposely clamp down on him, a hiss sounding from between his gritted teeth.

“promise, i promise, i love you.”

you giggle, rocking your hips again, fucking yourself onto him once more.

“i know.”

“you gonna let me off the hook?” oscar pants in your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth.

“still gotta prove yourself, piastri.” you moan.

he feels deeper like this and he knows it, revelling in the way he’s filled you up so perfectly. he rolls into you slowly, sliding against each and every spot that makes you squirm. you drop your guard, going limp in his arms to let him finish you off.

“you nearly there, sweetheart? you gonna cum for me, love?” his accents thickens in the mornings, husky and intoxicating. you fall apart, then, and he stays buried inside of you, the only sounds in the room your matching heavy breathing.

“i need you to get dressed.” oscar kisses your cheek.

“kicking me out already?” you feign offence, looking at him over your shoulder.

his fingers come to cup your chin, his forehead resting against yours.

“there’s something we gotta do.”

-

you’re wearing your skirt from the day before, the waistband rolled over to make up for the oscar-destroyed zipper. his hoodie that you’ve stolen almost completely covers the short skirt, and your messy hair and poorly removed makeup don’t do much to convince anyone that you’d actually slept in your own room last night.

still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t really comprehend where oscar is leading you, but when the elevator dings, signalling that you’ve reached the restaurant floor, you’re suddenly painfully awake. time seems to move in slow motion, your tummy twisting as you realise what’s about to happen.

ahead of you, tucked into the corner of the restaurant is your brother, jon, and ashley. lando is already draped in team kit, the papaya of his hoodie blaring obnoxiously for once, a warning sign.

“oscar, what-“

“i’m doing this.” he affirms, speeding up his stride.

oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god.

your heart speeds up, dropping to the pit in your belly when lando notices you, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in the bewildering sight before him. his baby sister, disheveled and wide-eyed, and his teammate holding her hand, on a mission.

“what the fuck am i looking at?” lando doesn’t sound angry, per say, more perplexed than anything. there is an edge to his voice that you don’t particularly like, but he hasn’t started swinging yet, you suppose.

“i’m in love with your sister. like, for real. you deserve to know that.” oscar says confidently, somewhat monotonously.

lando opens his mouth, closes it. opens it again, closes it. he repeats the process a few more times, going through the motions of an emotional rollercoaster.

but then, he sighs deeply, a grin of disbelief stretching across his face. jon bangs on the table excitedly, and ash is shaking his head.

“you owe us so much money.” jon laughs, his head tipping back.

“pay up, boss.” ash sticks his hand out expectantly, smirking across the table.

“what… what?” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes in confusion.

“i didn’t wanna believe them.” lando shrugs.

“don’t blame you.” oscar chimes in, and you stare between the two mclaren drivers in bewilderment.

“are you okay with this?” you question, staring your brother in the eyes, still a bit disoriented by the entire situation. his face softens, a genuine smile lingering small on his lips.

“if you’re happy, i’ll make my peace with it.” lando’s eyes flit between you and oscar.

all of the sudden, a look of horror crosses his face, and his voice turns stern.

“but,” he inhales shakily. “if i ever, ever, hear again what i think i heard last night,” he glares at oscar, pointing one firm finger at the australian, who stands up a bit straighter. “you’re dead, piastri.”

jon and ash bite back giggles at the empty threat, and you take it upon yourself to put an end to the situation before it gets any more awkward.

“well, on that note!” you sing-song, dragging oscar away.

“and make sure you’re using protection!” lando calls out, panic stricken, big brother mode activated.

“oh my god.” you blush dark pink, speeding up, the elevator in your sights.

“that went well.” oscar quips sarcastically. he looks rather happy with himself.

you kiss him as soon as the metal doors shut.

-

you do go out after the race, but for once it’s not to drink away the memories of a weekend in oscar’s arms. this time, it’s to celebrate the fact that you can love him out loud, and he’ll do the same right back.

you’re dancing in his arms, bright lights in shades of blues and purples streaming over your bodies. oscar holds you close, keeps you wrapped in his arms, despite the shock on the faces of others at the sight of lando norris’s baby sister publicly besotted with his teammate.

when oscar kisses you deep, smiling against your lips that taste like cherry liquor, you know that this last year of your life wasn’t in vain.

you and oscar, you’re built to last.

-

“how did you not see it, mate?” charles beams, crinkles by his eyes from the wide smile he’s sporting. he’s clearly drunk, but lando is too.

it appears he’s clocked the brits sister and her australian suitor on the dance floor.

the monagasque has rocked up to the bar with alex and pierre in tow, the three of them slapping lando on the back as they arrive.

“i guess there were signs.” lando shrugs, dragging his finger over the rim of the crystal glass.

“signs? mate it was obvious.” pierre chuckles, pushing lando’s shoulder.

“wait, you all knew?” lando splutters.

yeah. duh. come on, man.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s funnier.” charles… winks? it’s hard to tell with him.

lando finds you in the crowd, grinning up at oscar like he hung the stars in the sky. the younger mclaren driver returns your look, and it sparks warmth in lando’s chest.

you’re gonna be okay.

-

hehe

-

taglist

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#oscar piastri #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri x you #norris!reader #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 fics #oscar piastri fics #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 angst #f1 driver x you #f1 driver x reader #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fics #formula 1 smut #lando norris x reader

[alanaaii]

I miss you.☆

!plugeren misses his girl-a lot.

nsfw towards the end.

Wiping the drool off of your the corner of your puffy lips, you get woken up from your dream by the sound of your phone. Perfectly placed next to you for your alarm—but this wasn’t your alarm going off. Before your eyes can see the screen clearly, you were only able to make out the letter R with the color red. It could only be one person. The only person who would EVER call you on a random wednesday night. Your man eren. Calling you at 2 in the morning and disturbing your beauty sleep. After 3 rings, you finally answered the phone.“hello?” You mumble-still trying to wake up fully. Wondering why was he calling you at this time of the night.

It took a minute, but you could recognize the sound of music in his background along with wind blowing. Was he in a car? “You sleep?”

You exhale into the phone unknowingly. “It is 2am, what the fuck do you think i’m doing?”

Clearly annoyed that he snatched you from your peaceful sleep. “watch your mouth. i’m on my way ‘n put something on”. Snapping completely from your sleepy state, you register the words that you hear and grab your phone. “No the he-“ bleep.

Eren hung up the phone. Sitting up, looking at your phone you shaking your head and start getting ready.

Taking your bonnet off, you let your hair down and put on some grey tights along with a random white shirt you had in the corner of your room, you threw the random fit on but it was still cute. You only realized you were taking your sweet time when you heard your phone ringing again but this time it was a facetime call. Instantly picking up you were greeted with his pearly white smile along with his tattoo that went from his neck to his arm was partially exposed from the black t-shirt he had on as he whipped the steering wheel. Your insides were burning.

“I’m outside ”

“okay”

The call was quick but it left your heart pounding. Why did he want to see you? All of your questions were answered when you got to his car. Hopping into the passenger seat, your favorite tatted arm grabbed your neck. The warmth of his hand could’ve made you bust right there. He pressed his lips onto your glossed ones. To deepen the kiss, his slick warm tongue passed through your lips and into your mouth.

The kiss was long and nasty. The slippery tongues tackling each other for dominance. As you pulled away, the only thing connecting the two of you was his arm wrapped around your neck. which you didn’t mind at all.

“i missed you mama, why don’t you call me no more?”

The eye contact was intense. It was as if he was hungry and you were his next meal. You could feel the heat between your legs rise. oh the things he do to you without even trying.

“i’ve been busy with school and work, it’s hard juggling both”

Eren let out an annoyed huff. Openly annoyed with your response he releases his hand from his grasp around your neck.

“i told you i got your bills n shit, i just want you with me” The corners of your lips rise up as you take in his offer. “ren i don’t want you to spend all ya money on me”

“but i want to” His hand makes its way to your thighs, squeezing them. He knew that was your weak spot. “rennn” You practically whined. begging him to stop teasing you.

“c'mere” With his free hand he pat his lap, hinting for you to sit in the driver side.

Your brain was no longer in control. You were thinking with your coochie.

Putting your bag to the side you got up and sat on him. Your thighs squished on either sides of him. As you rest your butt on him, you feel a bulge between your legs. You take a glimpse at his pants and back up at him. He took this as his chance to move his face to your neck. Gently, he began to litter your neck with his plush soft lips getting you all flustered. Your mouth fell open with a light moan escaping from your lips.

Without even thinking, your body began to move on its own. Grinding your hips onto him to ease the aching heat between your legs.

“take these off..” Eren said as his attention trailed to your waist band tugging on it and letting it snap back onto you. Wincing at the pain, it didn’t stop you from basically jumping out of your pants. He unzipped his pants just enough for his dick to spring out and flop onto your entrance. Your heart was beating out of your chest and eren could feel it. “calm down mama, you know ima take care of you” His voice was low and raspy but like music to your ears. Pressing your lips onto his, you could feel his hand snake its way to your exposed waist. His fingers dug into your skin as he pushed you down onto him. Gripping onto his arm for support as you adjusted to his length. Noticing the tat he got for you. “y/n” with different swirling designs. He really loved you.

When you were finally adjusted, you pull away from the kiss and started to buck your hips onto him. Moans and grunts from you and eren filled his car. The tints made it extremely dark but that was the least of your worries your mind was turning into mush and was slowly losing your grip on him. Eren picked up where you left off and thrusted into you. “Eren wait!” The way his dick disappeared into was like magic. “shut up and take this dick”. Hearing him be mean to you made you bite your lip.

Your slick completely coating his dick and wetting his pants but he paid no attention to that. With one of his hands, he moved his thumb to your clit and did circles with the pace he knew drove you crazy. The feeling of pure bliss filling you up but a familiar feeling in your gut made you snap back to reality. Beginning to ride him to catch your own high. The build up was intense but not more intense than your release. Whining out “ren”’s over and over again as you came. “let it alll out mhm” he grunted. Talking you through your orgasm but that didn’t stop him from catching his own. Still fucking into you, he clutched his jaw and held onto your waist. All you could do was look at him and sob. Your eyes filling with tears that are threatening to fall.

You suddenly feel warmth shoot inside of you followed by a low “fuck”. Erens lips magnetically found their way to yours as he groaned into your mouth. Filling you like a twinkie.

Once both of you came down, he left himself inside of you as you laid your tired head onto him. The few minutes of silence was abruptly interrupted. “you gon’ quit that job fa me?” You lift your head and rubbed your eyes. “mhm"

Likes, reblogs and follows are always appreciated! ♡

#plug eren #eren smut #eren x black reader #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x black fem!reader #eren x y/n #lanaworks

[starrystevie]

it was all supposed to be a dumb joke.

the boys had been sitting around after rehearsal one night passing a bowl and more than a few beers, laughing about how unsuccessful the newest music based social media app would be. mere seconds of songs looping over and over with other songs mixed in would never work, especially for corroded coffin where the story, the buildup of their songs was part of the reason to listen.

it all started with jeff, grinning slowly ear to ear. "what if were to get in there and take some celebrity's name for a user name? like paris hilton or something."

then it moved to gareth, who paused with a scrunched up face. "dude, paris hilton? what the fuck kind of reference is that..."

then it was over to greg, choking on a smoke-laced laugh. "yeah, it'd be funnier if it was eddie's pop prince loverboy instead."

that got everyone's attention. eddie had protested to ears that didn't want to hear it as they cackled in their studio that they rented by the hour, bent over in their rolling chairs, leaning against the side of the mixing board for support.

"loverboy?! you know i can't stand steve harrington and his bullshit lyrics, what the fuck kind of suggestion is that..."

but come the next day, when the weed had left his system and his veins were alcohol-free, eddie stared at the mixr app home screen and the blinking red circle over his inbox with disdain after successfully acquiring a user name he never would have picked for himself.

'steveharrington', eddie's account says, along with an icon of himself and his tongue out.

if it hadn't been for being less than sober when the app dropped. if it hadn't been for his best friends egging him on with taunts and jeers and kissy noises and less than sincere dreamy calls of 'oh steve' in the background. if it hadn't been for the way that eddie secretly did think about a certain head of floppy hair and soft brown eyes and shoulders littered with constellations.

if it hadn't been for all of that he wouldn't have had the chance to have his celebrity crush, the steve harrington, in his inbox at 8am on a random tuesday morning.

"good morning!" the message says simply enough. eddie stares at the words, trying to process what they mean, looking at the verified username of 'steveharrington1' next to an icon of his most recent album along with it. his inbox is flooded with people all asking him random things, thinking he's the real steve harrington, but this one verified account has him shaking.

for all that eddie is, all big hair and black jeans and skull rings and leather, he's still a man. a man who can look at a pop star, annoying as their music may be, and see charm. he can see attractiveness. he can see that smile that steve harrington has perfected behind his eyelids and he can see them strolling off into the sunset together hand in hand and he can see steve all flushed and breathing heavily underneath him on a mountain of plush pillows and he can see-

the message pings again with a new addition. "i know this seems weird and my team advised against it but i'd really like your user name of... well, my name."

eddie blinks slowly. he pictures steve maybe laying in bed, maybe sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee, with his phone in his hand as he types out a message to him. to think that steve has any idea about him existing on any sort of level is doing his head in. his heartbeat races a little faster as he types back with shaky hands and a pit in his stomach.

"is this real?" is all he can type out, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waits for his coffee to brew.

three dots pull up on the app screen before disappearing and eddie pulls his lip in between his teeth to focus his energy elsewhere. he tears his eyes away from his phone and looks out the window to watch the people out for their morning walks. he's just about to the point where he thinks about maybe taking up walking if nothing else to get all the pent up energy out of him when the app dings again. as he looks back, his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

it's a photo of steve that can't have been released before. he's sitting outside in bright sunshine with sunglasses on, tousled hair and grin on his face. he's holding his hand up in a thumbs up and eddie can see the remnants of cream cheese on the side of his index finger.

he sucks in a stuttering breath through his teeth, trying to force his lungs to breath again. the dots pop up on screen once more and the message that comes through is instantaneous.

"real enough for you?" it reads. and then an additional message is tacked on. "need me to hold up a newspaper with the date on it?"

there's a winky face that follows and it feels fake even though it's very real. this whole morning feels wrong, unreal. he's just eddie munson, some singer in some halfway popular band in some kind of shitty neighborhood in los angeles that just happens to have not just some pop star in his dms. this doesn't happen to him.

"why did your team tell you not to message me? does my reputation precede me?"

eddie pulls his hand up to his mouth to bite at the side of his fingernail, watching the screen with rapt attention and waiting for the typing dots to disappear.

"according to this account your name is steve harrington and yes, i'd say his reputation does precede him."

eddie barks out a laugh, not exactly expecting that.

he didn't know what he was expecting out of any of this. he thought that it might help get the corroded coffin name out more if he got tangled up somehow with the steve harrington name. spark a little bit of drama to boost their visibility. but now here he is, talking to the man himself, cracking jokes and trying not to hyperventilate.

"how were you able to get this name so fast anyway? my team was on it right when the app dropped last night."

"i had the power of bandmates and weed on my side," he types back, side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

"oh so you're a musician? maybe i should be looking into your reputation then, mystery person."

eddie pauses and thinks about every option. he is semi-known in the metal scene, his outlandish stunts on stage and political speeches at shows that garner them becoming an almost brand for him. if he tells steve who he is, would he know? care? run away from the scary guy who may or may not use stage blood in every music video?

but the thing is, he's not a scary guy and he never has been. he might be a little intimidating and he guesses that's the armor he puts on everyday after being bullied in school but it's not an accurate showing of who he is. eddie is sweet, funny, kind of smart in that has random fun facts about dungeons and dragons kind of way.

and he wants the steve harrington to know that guy.

eddie flips over at his middle so his head is nearly touching the floor and ruffles his hair, giving it volume and calming down the frizz that comes from sleep. he shakes it out of his face once he's upright and grabs his garfield coffee mug if only to have something to do with his hands. grabbing his phone off the counter, he opens the camera option in their message thread and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, mug next to his face with a matching cat-like smirk. he nervously presses send before he can even think about all the flaws with it.

"eddie munson at your service," is what he types out with a saluting emoji and a muttered prayer to whoever would listen to him that things don't end horribly.

it's not like he's expecting to sweep steve off his feet. he knows that steve has picture perfect partners, he sees enough internet news to know that gruff and dark isn't the kind of guy he normally goes for. but he looks back at the photo he sent and hopes that steve sees the kindness in his eyes, the scruff on his jawline that makes it look just the smallest bit chiseled, the whimsy and life that he embodies that comes from a tacky coffee cup.

there isn't an automatic answer and it makes whatever hope eddie has floating around his system falter. ''at this point you've probably searched me and i can reassure you, i'm not actually a vampire like google seems to think i am."

"holy shit."

it's short, two words followed by typing dots that disappear, reappear, disappear once more before reappearing for the last time.

"would you believe me if i told you that i am huge fan??"

choking on coffee hurts, eddie finds out. he coughs as the hot liquid goes down the wrong pipe and concentrates on the messages once he gets his bearings back. steve, the steve harrington, a fan of his? it's a prank, it has to be, there is no way that steve harrington-

"one of my exes took me to your show at the bowl and it quite possibly changed my life. you gave that speech about the pipeline before the encore and i went home and bought every single one of your albums that same night."

he's dead. the papers will read 'eddie munson found dead in his home in a ratty metallica shirt holding onto a garfield coffee mug and cellphone open to a chat where steve harrington tells him he's a fan of his work'. it's the only way that this is possibly happening. he's died and gone to whatever fucked up version of heaven has him still living in his shitty la apartment.

"are you fucking kidding me?" is what he types back, slamming his coffee mug onto the counter to have access to both hands. "you've heard my stuff?"

and then it happens, like out of a shitty teenage rom-com, his phone is lighting up with an in-app call from steve harrington. the steve harrington. careful not to drop his phone in his hurried movements, he presses accept faster than he thinks his fingers have every worked.

"hello?" he questions into the phone and there's no hello back, just steve apparently freaking out as much as he is.

"i hope this is okay," he says and god, does his voice sound wonderful over the phone like this. "but it's faster and i have too many things to say that typing it all out would be stupid."

eddie grins and his feet tap against the ground like an excited kid. "it's fine, i uhm... i get it. god, this is weird."

steve hums in agreement before laughing. and oh, that laugh. it has eddie floating up to cloud nine, heart thumping painfully in his chest, butterflies beating their wings wildly in his stomach.

"yeah, it's definitely not how i expected this morning to go. talking to eddie munson, wow."

"sure," eddie snorts, "you talk to celebrities all the time, i'm sure this is small fish for you."

he hears steve laugh again, soft and gentle, like it's meant just for eddie. "i might talk to celebrities all the times but not ones that i have posters on my wall of like a pre-teen. i'm properly geeking out right now."

eddie short circuits. that's the only way to explain the way his body shuts down as he slumps into an armchair in the living room.

"you, steve harrington, have posters of me on your bedroom wall?" eddie's mouth feels dry as he talks and regrets making coffee at all because he's wide awake now and feels jittery.

"well okay, to be fair, it's of the whole band and it's in my studio but you are shirtless so i contemplated putting it in my bedroom." something shifts on the other end of the line and it sounds like steve sitting down. there's birds chirping in the background and eddie closes his eyes to picture himself sitting with steve on a patio instead of in his dingy apartment.

"you're gonna give me big head, pretty boy." the pet name slips out before he can stop it and the pitch of his voice lowering is out of his control. eddie can't be held responsible for his actions at 8am especially when he's flirting over the phone with his celebrity crush.

"pretty boy, hmm?" steve murmurs back. "so does that mean you have posters of me too?"

the timbre of his voice shoots from eddie's ears all the way down to his toes, lighting his veins on fire as it travels down his body. the hopeful part of his brain supplies an image of steve smirking, relaxing in a pool chair outside of what must be a mansion, phone in one hand and cup of coffee in the other. it could be domestic, if eddie thinks about it hard enough. if he wants it enough.

and god, does he want that. domestic bliss with steve harrington.

"well i wouldn't exactly call picturing you in my dreams every night posters, but it's close enough i guess."

it's gutsy, it's brash, it's too forward for a tuesday morning but steve started it. he hears a shaky exhale on the other end of the line and lets out a chuckle. it feels like they're playing chess and there's no clear cut winner quite yet but if the match ends in a tie, eddie can't exactly say he'd be upset about it.

"i tell you what," steve says in an almost airy voice. "in exchange for giving me my user name, i'll give you my number and you can use it to see me in something other than your dreams tonight."

"...are you bribing me, harrington?"

"is it working?"

eddie takes in a deep breath and thinks about what possible plans he could have with the username 'steveharrington' that would amount to something better than taking the man himself out on a date with his phone number saved as a contact in his phone. he'd put a heart next to it and everything.

"of course it is."

the call drops away and it's quick enough for eddie to think everything that happened in the last 30 minutes could have been a fever dream but then there's three dots on the message thread and his hopeful heart starts to kick back into gear.

"213-555-5469. let me know when you've given up that username and i'll let you know when to pick me up. it's a win-win all around. turns out we each get to go a date with our celebrity crushes, how lucky is that?"

it's signed with a kissing face emoji and eddie's glad that he's sitting down when the last picture steve sends comes through. he's grinning in a way eddie's never seen before, blush high on his cheeks, sweaty shoulders and collarbones and pecs glinting in the early morning sun, and eddie thinks it's probably too early to be in love with someone but he's well on his way.

he texts the number he's sent without hesitation and without shaking hands this time. he signs the message with a black heart like it's a signature of it's own.

"lucky indeed."

#wow this got SO much longer than intended why does this always happen why can i not just shut up #anyway i've been trying to figure out how to write this for a week so enjoy #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #steddie headcanon #popstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #modern au

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.” 

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 

Everything would be done if another city fell.  

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down. 

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did. 

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life. 

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 

Your face gains heat. 

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 

You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible. 

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 

The man forces a weak huff. 

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon. 

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #x female reader #call of duty keegan #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan x reader #keegan russ #keegan x you #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ x reader #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts x reader #cod ghosts #cod keegan russ #cod fic #cod fanfic #cod x female reader #x fem!reader

[chrollohearttags]

snooze • portgas d. ace

your boyfriend can’t sleep unless you’re by his side..for many reasons.

sleepy/sonmo sex, hints of free use, modern au, black fem reader, early morning quickie, creampie, nipple play, teasing, him whimpering a lot :(, just some domestic, soft smut, pet names used

word count: 2.0K

📝: as you all can see, my brainrot for this man has become so god awful, I fear it will take a shovel to dig me out of these trenches. But I love it here! (also, the title is not based off of the song by any means.)

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿

2:15AM…

night had long fell cast over the sky..faint inklings of stars littered the black backdrop as tiny white dots. The vibrant moon illuminating the entirety of the sleepless city as the daily bustle of blaring car horns and menial chatter has slowed to the sounds of a few cars either heading home or starting the day early. Through the window of the third story apartment where you resided..shined a single beam of light on two sleeping bodies. Entangled in the warmth of the sheets on the chilly winter night..underneath, limbs intertwined as you enjoyed the bliss of sweet slumber..

“Mmmph..”

faint mumbles arose as they vibrated against the crook of your neck. Your boyfriend’s face was nuzzled between the crevice of your neck as he shuffled around in his sleep. His muscular, inked up forearms coiled around your waist with his hands placed to your abdomen; holding you close to him. Nowhere else in the world that either of you would rather have been..it was paradise, an absolute dream..and for your doting, sweet man..he was enjoying it quite a bit! The friction of his lower half rubbing against your backside; gently rutting his hips into your plump flesh as to not ruffle too much but make you subtly aware of his intentions. Those hands eventually roamed from your waist and tummy to the top of your body, resting idly on your breasts. He seemed restless, for a better lack of terms. Although he probably slept more than the average person due to his narcolepsy, Ace did have his weaknesses. For example, he couldn’t be at peace unless you were plastered to his side. You were his comfort, his peace and he couldn’t function unless you were right there. But alas, it wasn’t the only reason he enjoyed lying next to you every night..it definitely had its other perks. Just like at that moment, where he was toiling with the lace on your short silk teddy. The one that barely even covered your ass as you walked away..the one that had his mind straying to less than savory thoughts when you were awake. It couldn’t be helped..your body was an absolute work of art that he could admire for hours on end and never grow tired. Neither one of your eyes were open; still far too exhausted to do so, but he’d slowly feel you up as you laid there quietly. Running his fingertips along the delicate portions of your skin, still muttering and eventually, leaving gentle pecks on your shoulder blade. “Baby…” the only thing he managed to get out before muttering against your neck once more.

Meanwhile, you could still feel his pelvis bumping against you..naturally, you didn't hesitate to meet him halfway. It was obvious that neither of you were going to truly be able to rest until you achieved your mutual goal. Because truth be told, when you couldn’t doze off the way you wanted or your body wanted craved more than just sleep to replenish it, there was only one way to quell that urge:

“..need you so bad..”

hell, it was all the more fun when you pretended to be fully asleep..giving him full fledged permission to use your body when he saw fit. Taking claim to it when he was ready. Sometimes, you loved it when he woke you up with his cock nestled deeply inside of you or vice versa, when your pretty little lips, wrapped around his shaft, drove him out of slumber. It was easy to surmise that he was going to take advantage of said consent..made things all the more sexier. Still mumbling, you’d begin to whine very faintly as you felt the covering of your top be pulled down and your nipples exposed to the cool air. They were erect and sensitive to the touch. Practically writhing each time he so much as even brushed them. By this time, you were also wiggling your hips and bogging yourself onto his crotch. It was clear that things were about to intensify and neither of you wanted to put a halt to this little charade either.

2:30AM…

“..you’re so wet, baby..this all f’r me?’ His words seem to have fallen on deaf ears but he could tell by your physical reaction, that wasn’t the case..you were clutching the sheets far too tight for someone that couldn’t feel a thing. You were only becoming more and more aroused by the minute..that silky slick coating his fingertips. Meanwhile, you could feel his bulge pressing against your cheeks..so swollen, it were as if he’d burst any minute. “Don’t be shy, you can tell me..” a faint chuckle rising among his deep voice, rattling off whilst he held you close. This man had talked you through many orgasms with that heavy tone of his and he knew how much you loved when he spoke to you all quietly like this. “That’s okay..I know what you need..” he was very much vocal and yet, he was still seemingly asleep. His eyes still shut!..but it wouldn’t remain that way for long because as Ace reached down to tug at his waistband, removing his cock from its confines, (y/n) very subtly hoisted your leg, assuring him that you wanted this just as badly..taking the hint, he’d clutch your waist and pull you towards him, smacking that tip to that warm, juicy slit of yours. Almost as if his senses were incredibly heightened..his mind constructing a roadmap of your beautiful body and no vision was needed. A giant smirk lay plastered across his face. He couldn’t wait to be inside of you.. “Let me have you, please..fuck..” that once deep voice becoming desperate and whimpering in a high pitched wail; that mushroom tip aching and leaking with the absolute need to be fill your hole. To take claim of your special spot only the way he knew how.. “..shit..” “..mmph!” Simultaneously reactions from each of you. It seemed that you could no longer maintain your silent charade and he could no longer fight those insatiable urges..and both of you were ready to fuck until your bodies truly tired out beyond repair. The kind that would undoubtedly put you right back to sleep..

2:40AM

sounds of clashing flesh ricocheted around the room, the clapping noises of his pelvis colliding with your heavy asscheeks as he pounded into you. A cusped hand stationed around your throat to keep you reigned in when you began to pull away from the strokes he was feeding your greedy cunt. Unable to quell his whiny cries because of the sensation. He’d never felt anything like it! So warm and silky..it was a miracle he hadn’t gotten you pregnant yet..constantly finding it hard to pull out once he was inside of you. Rutting into you like a pathetic pup rutting his pillow. A sheath of wetness forming from the constant thrusting..and his earlier teasing. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight, baby..pussy’s so fucking good..” the sweet nothings rattled off into your ear with his dick nestled deep between your folds.. “..shit! Right there..so good..” heavy huffs breathing down your neck whilst he persisted. Pulling you even closer, Ace tilted your head back slightly to lace your jawline and throat with sloppy pecks. It was absolute bliss if you’ve ever felt it. “I love you..love you so fucking much, baby. Thank you for letting me wake you up like this..” a faint chuckle arising from between his moans. It was blatantly clear to see that he was enjoying this little early morning rendezvous more than you could imagine. “I love you—oh fuck!…’s too much..'' crying out with your hand smacking the mattress and clutching the sheets. Your legs shook violently and all you could do was withstand the sensation of that thick, throbbing cock bottoming out inside of you. Sometimes, it was a miracle if you could fit it all..he was so lengthy as well and you’d oftentimes find yourself begging him to take some out around the five inch mark. “Aw, baby..you’re so small. Just makes stretching you out all the more fun..” referencing not your body type, but rather that pretty pussy..regardless of how many times you two had sex, you still managed to wrap around and squeeze him to no end. Cream slathered all down the entrance and he would lean up to examine the mess, along with the ripple of your thick ass via the moonlight..

2:48AM

“F-fuck..gonna come, daddy..please!”

“Ooh, I love when you call me that..are you gonna let go f’r me, sweetheart?”

Still lying on your side with your leg hoisted high, he’d continue going..even teasing your clit to add to the euphoric feeling. Both of your eyes had peeled wide open and there was no halting this passionate round of love making. The name causes a throbbing sensation to rattle off inside of you as his cock twitches yet again.

“So let me see that pretty face when you do, baby. Come on, let it out—“ amid the resuming of his deep strokes, Ace would coddle your face in his palm, sweet talking you through that impending orgasm. Spinning your face around to meet his own. He was always such a kind and attentive lover. Making certain that you got yours long before his own. His true satisfaction lies in seeing you grip the sheets and call out his name. It didn’t take long before he was granted his wish and you were heaving as that orgasm came barreling out of that entrance and splattering his thighs as he fucked it out of you slowly. Emitting gentle streams with each thrust until you couldn’t spill another drop.

“Aww, good girl..good girl..you’re squirting. So fucking wet..I love it.”

you’d find yourself caught in another kiss shortly thereafter; passionately and slowly…but that wasn’t the end of this. He needed to keep going until he had nothing else left to offer..until you were filled to the brim with every last drop of him. “Nnnngh!..” “I know, pretty..I know..but you’re doing such a good job..I don’t wanna stop.” Growling and laughing in your ear as his strokes became a lot rougher and more sporadic. He was nearing his peak. That much was evident by the way his nails dug into the flesh of your hip. Met with the recoil of your thick ass each time. You were squeezing him so tight, he could barely withstand it. So with a couple more sharp, pounding thrusts, you’d find your boyfriend clutching onto your skin and drilling until you felt it all come to an abrupt halt.. “f..fuck!..hold still, baby. I’m so close—“ a mere few seconds later, you’d feel his movements cease but those hot, thick ropes of cum pouring into your womb. Filling you up with every ounce of his seed until he couldn’t go any further. Whimpering and crying out for you in the process. Begging you to let him breed you..and once he finished, Ace would remain inside of that tight cunt, stroking the side of your face and marking your temple with light kisses.

“That was perfect, sweetheart..”

“Yeah..thank you, baby..”

3:00AM

#cherry’s works ✦⭒ #one piece x black!reader #one piece ace #ace x black reader #portgas d ace #one piece #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace smut #ace smut #one piece smut #op smut #portgas ace smut #black fem reader #one piece au #one piece modern au #black reader #black reader smut #one piece drabble #portgas ace x reader #one piece headcanons #fire fist ace #ace headcanons #ace #op x reader #op x you #cw free use #cw smut #cw breeding #one piece fic #smut fic

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

please do one where they were like in a secret relationship and one day reader went live for her fans and idk maybe Tom walked in and now the secret's out. It's up to you how you go abt it. Have a nice day!!

Caught in 4k || Tom Blyth x gf!reader

A/n: Anon you read my mind.... I had this idea sitting in my drafts for quite some time!

Warnings: none!

Wc: 983

Divider by @pommecita

You stir in your sleep when you feel light kisses on your arm. "Good morning, love," He says, his morning voice making you smile as you turn around and place a kiss on his cheek, a smile adorning his lips. His arms wrap themselves around your waist as you both lay still, neither wanting to pull away from the embrace.

"I'm going to go for a shower," You say against his neck, his hands coming to your hips as he massages them. "Can I join?" His tone teasing as you consider the idea. "I fear if you do, we won't make it out of the bathroom for quite a bit," A smirk forms on his lips as you get out of bed, his hand still clinging to yours.

"I don't mind!" He calls out as you flip him off, not bothering to turn around as you shut the door behind you. After the calming shower, you wrap your body in a fluffy white towel as you squeeze out the excess water from your hair, letting it air dry.

You start to brush your teeth as you hear the bathroom door opening. Tom enters in only his boxers as he makes his way to you, arms wrapping around your towel cladded body as you lean back against him. You smile at him through the reflection you mouth frothy with the toothpaste as he smiles back at you.

You bend over to spit out the toothpaste as Tom pretends to fuck you from behind as laughs erupt from your mouth. You lean back up, slapping him across his chest as he smiles innocently at you. Going on your tippy toes, your arms loop around his neck and place a kiss on his lips, a few actually, as you both smile in between them.

"I feel like making pancakes, do you want blueberries or chocolate chips in yours?" You ask him whilst applying lip balm on your lips as he turns the shower on. "Chocolate chips please," He grins at you as give him a thumbs up and walk out picking out an outfit.

You pull back the curtains revealing dark clouds that littered across the sky of Brooklyn. You smile to yourself knowing today was going to full of cuddles and watching Harry Potter films with Tom. Walking down stairs, a thought plagued your mind.

You wanted to go live on Instagram as you felt as if it had been too long since the last time you did one. You leaned your phone up against a fruit bowl as you start the live. "Hey guys!" You smile as you watch thousands of people join in a matter of seconds.

You then continued to pull out the ingredients to make pancakes as you answer some of the questions that people asked. Tom walks down a few minutes later, wondering who you were talking to as your voice travelled upstairs.

He sees you in the kitchen, your back towards him as you talk about the weather. He decided to surprise you so he slowly walked up behind you and wraps his arms around you as you slightly jump. "Fucks sake, you scared me!" You sulked as Tom laughs, peppering the side of your face with kisses as your hands go up to his arms around your neck.

"Oh shit," You silently curse as you freeze, remembering you were still live on Instagram, "What?" He asks confused. You discreetly glance back and mentally face palm yourself as your phone was directly aimed at the two of you which meant that thousands of people witnessed it and most definitely concluded that you and Tom were together, which was very much the truth.

"I'm live on Insta," You whisper as you feel Tom physically pause as well, probably processing your words. He turns his head and makes eye contact with himself on your phone as he awkwardly chuckles. "Oh hey.." He trails off as you burst out laughing. "I'm going to go put a shirt on," Tom quickly says as he runs up stairs to get one.

You watch as comments blow up and you couldn't contain your smile. Everyone was going crazy as they flooded the comments with questions. You hear Tom walk back down, a shirt on his previously naked upper body as you hold out you hand and he takes is. "Well, guess it's out," He chuckles as the both of you read the comments.

Tom leans his hand against the counter as you rest your head on his arm. "Shit, I almost forgot the pancakes!" You panic as you go back to the stove and continue cooking the batter. You and Tom kept your relationship as private as you could, fans speculated that you were dating each other but nothing was confirmed, well until the live of course.

"How long have you two been together?" Tom reads out loud as you get plates for the two of you. "3 years now is it?" You say as Tom thinks about it, "Yeah, 4 years coming this September," he smiles. You come up beside him, resting your chin on your hands that were on the counter as you read through the comments, too immersed to notice that Tom was staring down at you with a huge smile on his face.

A comment mentioning how Tom is looking at you makes you look behind you, "What?" You shyly laugh as he says nothing, shaking his head. Tom takes over with making the pancakes and eventually they are done. "Well guys I'm going to end the live here and eat these pancakes with my wonderful boyfriend, bye!" You say as you end it.

You make eye contact with Tom as you both start laughing. He hugs you and kisses your forehead. "At least we don't have to keep hiding this in public anymore," He says as you agree with him.

#tom blyth #fanfiction #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth x gf!reader

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Sleepy Mornings

luke castellan x reader

A/N: been thinking about this all day so I had to write it

TW: smut, slight dubcon, somnophilia, semi-public sex

word count: 522 words

You wake up to the feeling of Luke’s lips on your neck. It’s soft and gentle, and the perfect thing to lull you out of your sleep.

“Luke?” You murmur.

“Shh it’s okay. It’s early. Just sleep, my love” He whispers in your ear with his deep morning voice.

He continues to litter little kisses over your neck and collarbone before you feel his hand beginning to slide up your (his) shirt. Luke loves to grip your waist as he kisses you, desperate for the skin on skin contact and this would be fine, if his hand didn’t continue to go higher. You may be groggy and half asleep but you know that there are other people sleeping in the Hermes cabin.

“Luke…” You breathe out again as your hand reaches for his, that is now cupping your breast, trying to gently coax him off.

“It’s okay. They’re sleeping. You just gotta be quiet.” He knows that’s hard for you. It’s always hard to be quiet when he’s involved. But he also knows how badly you want to be good for him.

His hand makes way from your torso to the hem of your panties, slipping in with no complaints from you. He rubs at your clit slowly as you start to feel him pressed against your ass.

“Mmm.” You moan out and he hushes you.

“You gotta be quiet. You don’t want to wake anyone, do you?” You’re still too tired to warrant him with a response.

You feel him shifting your panties down now and then him rubbing his cock against your pussy.

“I’ll slip right in real slow. Remember to keep those moans in, baby.”

Your boyfriend is true to his word as he enters you so slowly that you can feel every inch as you bring it in. You only let out the lightest of whimpers when you’re finally filled to the hilt.

“My good girl, my darling.” He moves your hair to the side so he can kiss your neck before beginning to thrust into you languidly. “So perfect for me.”

He intertwines your fingers with his, giving a light squeeze to show how proud he is of you for being so quiet.

His hips keep a steady pace. The thrusts may be slow but they’re still deep and he hits you in the right spot every single time.

“I love you so much.” He murmurs in your ear.

“Mmm love you, Luke…” You whisper back.

He’s so gentle with you this morning, like you might shatter if he kisses you too hard and you love it. You love the sweetness, the tenderness, the care of the pillow talk he says in your ear while he thrusts inside you.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. I’ll fill you right up.” He says, slowing even more before he stops, fully sheathed inside of you. You feel the warm seed oozing into you as he presses more kisses to your shoulder.

“So good…” You breathe out as you feel his strong arms tighten around you, keeping you close.

“I love you.” Luke says once more and you know he means it.

taglist (comment to be added): Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea

General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

#luke castellan smut #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson fic #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians

[pierregazly]

smile kisses ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, a lil steamy towards the end [751 words]

request: if possible can you do a mix of 3 and 10 from the 🫶🏻 prompt list with oscar (if not, just 10 is fine 😽) [3. SMILING during a kiss & 10. "tell me what you want, baby." in the deepest, nearly inaudible murmur]

note: this was so cute!! the prompts??? i died 🤭 this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

There wasn’t much that could be said about the way Oscar spent his mornings. He was an early riser, always had been; his breakfast’s pre-planned and pre-made for him; a routine that hadn’t seen change in years.

Until you came into his life, of cour

Oscar had, more than once, affectionately commented about how you had blown up every routine and regime he followed. He would always finish off the joke with a soft kiss and the reaffirmation that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Winter breaks for the Australian had especially changed. While before he could’ve been found back home, enjoying the summery, hot weather of his hometown; this time around he was found wrapped around you in bed, eyes following the streaks of rainwater that littered the window and gave view to the dreariness that often overtook London this time of year.

He wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, though. Lazy mornings in bed with you on a cold, dreary day was exactly the type of change he was alright with. Especially when your body moulded against his own so perfectly.

Tracing shapes on your bare shoulder, he placed kisses against the imaginary spots after the completion of each one. A smile gracing his lips with every press of them against your skin, as small giggles erupted from inside you at every action.

It was like heaven, hearing your reaction to his ministrations, to the way he professed his love for you. He wasn’t great with words, but he knew how to make you feel loved, how to make you feel wanted.

“Having fun, Osc?”

Murmuring a soft agreement, he continued the game of bringing bumps to your skin as shivers consumed your body. A soft smile continued to grace his face, difficult to keep at bay whenever he was around you.

Tapping at the hand that was placed delicately against your stomach, you gestured for him to let you turn around to face him. Which he begrudgingly did, a mock glare directed at you before a smile broke across his lips as he traced the shape of your face with his eyes, a hand gently cupping your cheek, rubbing a thumb across the skin.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

Feeling your cheeks warm at his words, you pressed your head into the junction of his neck to stifle the giggle of adoration that was bubbling out of you. The beat of his pulse was so delicate against your lips as you pressed a loving kiss to it, a smile still stretched across your features.

“And just so adorable, really,” emphasizing his words, he pressed a finger into a known ticklish spot that instantly prompted you to flinch away from him.

You were easily overpowered by him, Oscar’s body hovering over yours as his fingers dug into your sides, loud squeals of laughter left your lips. It was hard to focus on anything as you tried to maneuver your body out from underneath him, but the large smile on his lips was infectious.

“Osc… oh my god, please. Enough! No more,” you begged, using all your weight to shove him off.

Relenting, the Australian held himself up with his now unoccupied hands, looking down at you as you caught your breath.

He couldn’t help the urge to press his lips down to yours, unable to keep the smile from his face. You couldn’t express in words how much he meant to you, but the feeling of the smile pressed against your lips was really all you needed to know how much he loved you. You couldn’t resist smiling back into the kiss, your fingers weaving into the locks of his hair, trying to show the love he was giving you, right back.

The passion in his kisses, in everything he did, was wondrous. It always felt like he was trying to form every thought, every feeling, every emotion, into the connection of your lips; especially through the never-ending smiles he always had for you.

Practically mewling into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, you felt him start to press his lower body against yours, a soft groan leaving his lips.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured, his voice deepening from the arousal coursing through his system.

You couldn’t help the small whimper that was let out as you looked up at him; eyes hooded and clear with his intention, lips plump, practically begging to be kissed more.

“You, Osc. Always want you.”

AH this isn’t as long as i would’ve liked, but i just wanted it to be tooth-rotting fluff with a lil spice of an ending. i hope you all love it, and thank you to everyone that’s been requesting and celebrating with me 🫶🏻

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 writing #f1 imagine #oscar piastri imagine #f1 #mclaren #oscar piastri fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #oscar piastri blurb #pierregazly's 1.5k celebration