#i wish i wasn’t so fucking miserable all the time

[honeypleasejustkillme]

it’s sad how with bpd even when i’m feeling good i can’t enjoy it in the moment because i know it won’t last for much longer..

#actually bpd #bpd problems #bpd vent #bpd #actually borderline #actually mentally ill #bpd fp #bpd shitposting #bpd favorite person #bpd mood #i just wish i could enjoy life like others do #i wish i wasn’t so fucking miserable all the time

[jirai-kei-freak]

why does it have to be this way

#Why #I was doing so good this past year #There were times I was literally crying tears of joy because I haven’t felt as happy as I was in years #Now shit’s coming back and I don’t like it #Every fucking time man #“Well life is supposed to have its ups and downs” HAVE YOUVE WENT THROUGH WHAT I WENT THROUGH #summer through all the way to the end of 2023 was one of two of the most miserable times I ever went through #I was almost never happy #Had cheap laughs for like 20 minutes then back to misery #There wasn’t a single day were I didn’t wish i was dead #Literally I would wake up and i immediately wanted to start crying #Thats how bad things were #You could see it in my face how lonely and miserable i was #I hadnt felt that empty for like a good few years since then #It was to the point where I thought there was never going to be light in my life ever again #I went through some fucked up shit and now im traumatized 10x more then i was before #The first day of school was a weak after some extremely traumatic stuff happened man #Then the new year started and everything was starting to get better #I started taking medication #I was much more happier #My self esteem boosted up #I started working on myself and became a better person #I dont think i ever had a period of my life where i felt THAT BETTER #Like I said i was crying because I had felt a massive weight lifted off my shoulders #It literally felt like i saw the light #I legitimately thought things were getting truly getting better #It’s just gonna be the same damn cycle over and over again huh? #For several months I feel depressed as shit #Then for a few months things start to clear up #Then suddenly and abruptly things go back to the shit

[castielmacleod]

Very picky about how people write reconciled Crowley and Rowena and even MORE picky over how people write reconciled Cas and Claire. These are the two absolutely devastating spn relationships that you just do not fuck around with in my opinion. Reconciliation plots for them can be done well but if you’re going in on either dynamic without giving the experience of both sides equal consideration then as a writer you have already lost

#If you don’t acknowledge the tragedy on both sides of these relationships you’re simply writing nothing imo #Maybe one side had it far worse than the other but if you don’t at least recognise the feelings of the other side #I think you’re doomed to fail. If your goal is to depict them or explore their dynamic in a way that matters anyway #Obviously if you’re writing self-indulgent wish fulfilment for your own subjective enjoyment you don’t necessarily need to go deep #I’m talking about intentional character studies and such #My posts #Not that Cas and Claire isn’t the most fucked up relationship of all time but I also get why Crowley and Rowena can be trickier #Because getting possessed by angels is Not Real and parental child neglect very much is #Few people can balance acknowledging the hell Rowena went through with not being an abuse apologist for what happened to Crowley #Her mistreatment of him was not a “girlboss moment” like as much as Ruth NAILS the delivery of thee career woman line it’s really not funny #in context. #She later acknowledged the harm she caused him and put real visible effort into becoming a better person #which makes her easily one of the best characters on that whole sorry miserable show but #That still doesn’t mean the way she neglected and mistreated and abandoned Crowley was okay. #(Even SHE knows it wasn’t okay. Who are you pretending it was okay for? Not her!) #But if your brain is wrinkly enough you can also recognise that Rowena was young and was herself was horrifically abandoned #and traumatised by that abandonment to the point where she equated loving ANYTHING with being weak and at someone else’s mercy #which she was so desperately scared of feeling ever again. #AND that she is just not a maternal person who had maternity sprung upon her and then was left high and dry with zero support #and a crying screaming piece of the man who did all this to her. A crying screaming piece of HER that she was too terrified to risk loving #And then when she *did* find people who’d support her they came after her for having a child at all. And she made a choice #You can recognise ALL of this without acting like Crowley wasn’t fucked up for LIFE by her #She was fucked up for life by Crowley’s father as it was. And again it doesn’t make it ok but acknowledgement ≠ apologism #Anyway christ I could write essays about the MacLeod cycle of abandonment so I’ll leave it there #I’m saying all this as someone who loves all four characters mentioned in this post with my entire heart by the way #Which is definitely why I feel so strongly when people write the dynamics while clearly partial to one or the other. They all deserve nuance #To me

[gl0rificus]

.

#i hate this so much i’m so miserable all the time i miss her i gave her everything i did everything and it wasn’t enough #why wasn’t it enough why wasn’t i enough i don’t understand all i ever wanted was her all i ever wanted was to love her #all i ever wanted was to be with her forever all our history together and she ended it to be with him i don’t understand #i love her with every fibre of my being id have given her everything i’d have given her anything she wanted #i wanted to marry her i wanted to do everything for her and she threw it all away #i hate this i hate myself i’m worthless unlovable ugly not good enough i’ll always be inferior #idk what to do #this is so fucking hard i’m trying so hard but idk if i can do it idk if i can keep it up i don’t want to hurt anymore #i wish i’d died that night

[pepprs]

uhm…. Despair. literally despair

#i wish i could move on from it and just be happy and productive. im embarrassed and ashamed that i can’t. but it’s really hard right now. i #am not having a good time. i just am so sad. it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. the future we worked #for is not the one we get to live in and right now the benefits of it being this way are too close up for me to see or feel and i just am m #miserable. i don’t like being miserable all the time. im embarrassed. but god. this sucks. it sucks and i am so hurt and sad all the time i #just want to scream and cry from being in pain. i shut down earlier today but feel very articulate now which is a blessing bc idk how i got #to that point but like. good fucking god. i am miserable. i need help and the person best equipped to give it to me in some ways just #fucking left like it was nothing. and the thing is i can’t even tell if it WAS anything or if it actually is nothing. lol #delete later #purrs #it literally is so unhelpful. everyone is tired of being sad. but i can’t stop being sad. i can distract myself though LOL so let me scroll #thru my dash for a bit and try to do that bc idk what to even do with myself rn actually

[bubblegumbeyotch]

.

#god i’m so unhappy and i just really don’t know what to do #i tried to look at job listings today and everything i saw sounded absolutely abysmal #i feel so pathetic i just wish i could work and have a normal job and not be a fucking freak about everything #i just wanna be able to take care of myself i hate being dependent on others so fucking much #but all i have the energy to do is lay around and feel miserable and everyone keeps telling me i need to do something! anything! #and i try i really fucking do but just nothing happens bc i just have no energy for anything #i want to go to school or have a job or SOMETHING believe me i don’t want to just lay around and not do anything and have no money #it SUCKS and makes me feel awful about myself and it’s straining my relationships bc i can tell everyon: #*everyone’s tired of me acting like this and i’m tired of it too but i just genuinely don’t know how to get out of it #im so tired and depressed and i’m trying so hard not to be like i’m taking my meds and doing my basic tasks and hygiene #but beyond that i have no motivation or energy for anything else and people are concerned about me wasting my potential #and i just feel like i’m disappointing everyone and i’m just a time/money/effort suck for everyone around me #i don’t even know what would make me feel better at this point #maybe just being someone else entirely. someone who’s not a fuckup who wastes everyone’s time like me #just nothing brings me joy anymore and i’m so agitated and pessimistic about everything and i wish that i wasn’t #the only thing i know to do is to cover it up with an inflated self esteem about how hot i am and how people desire me #but that desire is always so superficial and empty and feels amazing in the moment and progressively more awful as time goes on #idk i’m just ranting at this point but just know i’m in my electra heart era and not necessarily happy about it #personal

[jiniretracha]

Unfair - Hwang Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, teeny tiny bit of angst (if you squint), hyunjin being a softie and a romantic little shit!

Summary: After getting friendzoned, you rant to your best friend, Hyunjin, about how pathetic you are for not getting a date for Valentine’s Day. Hyunjin would never let the girl he secretly loves so much think so little of herself.

Word Count: 5.2k

MASTERLIST

“Ugh! I’m so pathetic!” you cried as you busted inside your best friend’s room. “Like, so pathetic”

Hyunjin was laying on the sofa, lazily sketching something on his notebook when he heard your cries, making his head lift up to look at you. “What happened this time?” he asked with a knowing smirk.

You sat down on the couch with a huff and crossed your legs under your butt. “I thought he was the one. And he obviously was not” you grumbled.

“Who?”

“Soobin! I can’t believe it” you face-palmed yourself. “I- God! I thought he was into me. Like, he was flirty all the time. We’d go out to eat, which I mistook as dinner dates. He’d take me to the funfair. Shit, he even gifted me that giraffe plushie which I’m obviously stabbing him til the fucking insides are laying all over my floor” you snapped.

Hyunjin was pressing his lips together to contain his smile. Not because you were miserable, no. Because you looked so freaking cute when you were angry.

“Stop smiling, Hyunjin. I feel like shit”

Hyunjin chuckled. “You’re so cute when you’re mad” he said.

“Not helping here”

“Sorry, sorry” he said, placing his hands in the air in defense. “I’m sorry that happened to you, sweetheart. Come here” he cooed, extending his arms, making you sigh and crawl towards him as he wrapped his arms around your body.

“I’m so pathetic” you whispered, feeling your eyes stinging with tears.

“What? No” he shook his head. “Do you think you’re the only girl in the world that got her heartbroken or got her hopes up over a stupid boy that couldn’t see what was in front of him this whole time?” Hyunjin rambled on. “That’s bullshit”

You felt your heart melt at his words. “Thank you for saying that, Hyunjinnie. Really, but I think this time I’m accurately depicting myself. I’m a pathetic loser”

He just chuckled against your hair. “You’re being mean to yourself”

“I deserve it”

“No, you don’t. So what if Soobin doesn’t like you like that? There are tons of other guys who aren’t blind as him” he said.

“Yeah, where are they?” you asked angrily.

Right here, Hyunjin wanted to say. “You just gotta keep looking” Hyunjin said.

You nuzzled your head into his chest, inhaling his scent. You wondered what it would be like to be with him. You obviously did. It had been three years since you met Hyunjin, and you couldn’t get over the fact that you loved him. It wasn’t every day that you make yourself a friend who’s an idol, and every single person on the planet wants and longs to be with him, so you weren’t stupid. Your chances of being with him were slim to none. You got your dose of liquid luck that got you there with him, being his friend.

“I know. But I’m just so tired of missing and missing the target over and over again” you rambled on.

“I get that. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have to keep trying, Y/N” he whispered.

You nodded. “I’ve got no date for Valentine’s. Can you believe that?” you asked, almost to yourself. “That’s what’s pathetic”

Hyunjin chuckled. “I don’t have a date for Valentine’s either”

“Yeah, but you’ll be on tour. Besides, you got seven dates”

“No, ew” Hyunjin shook his head. “I love them, don’t get me wrong. But no, I’ll pass” he said, making you giggle. The sound made his heart clench painfully in his chest. You don’t know I’d give my life for you to continue giggling like that forever, he thought. “I’m sorry I’ll be away. I was gonna offer you to be my date. Figured we could finish watching the last episodes of Daisy Jones”

You sighed. “It’s fine. You gotta be a superstar, duty calls” you giggled. “I wish I could go with you, though”

“Yeah, me too” he nodded. “Why don’t you come, though? I’ll pay for your tickets”

“I got work, Jinnie. I know you’d pay for them. You did that the two times I went overseas to watch you guys in concert. Best experience of my goddamn life, by the way” you said, making him laugh. “But, no, this time I’ll painfully pass. I love my little shop”

You had your own art supply shop, where you sold canvases, acrylic paints and all sorts of stuff that any artist in Seoul would need. Hyunjin stumbled across your shop three years ago and he loved it. He always found everything he needed for his artworks. But the best thing he stumbled across in your shop was the cute vendor that was smiling at him, asking if that was everything he’d need, if he needed assistance or the way you smiled whenever he’d talk.

The attraction he felt was so real and so scary to him, but he loved it. He felt he found the one. And that feeling didn’t change. It probably won’t. Ever.

“I know you love it. I love it” Hyunjin praised.

You lifted your head up slightly to look at him. “Really?” you asked in a small voice.

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah”

You giggled, pressing your head into his chest once again. You let out a content sigh and then closed your eyes, feeling exhausted after crying the whole way back to his apartment and putting up with your feelings for the boy your were laying on.

<>

“You’ll stay here with Y/N, okay Kkami?” Hyunjin told his little four-legged friend that was sitting on the comforter. “You’ll be good to her, aren’t you? You like her more than you like me, anyways”

The comment made you giggle and pet Kkami’s hair. “He’s a good boy, Hyunjinnie. He’ll be okay here with me” you said.

“Yeah?”

You pressed your lips into a smile and nodded. “Absolutely”

“Great” he sighed with relief. “If you need anything, I wouldn’t say ‘call me’ because I don’t trust myself to be with my phone if you needed me, so I’ll just tell the guys downstairs that whatever you need, you can ask them. You can help yourself out with ev-“

“Jinnie” you stopped him with a laugh. “I do this everytime you go away for more than a week” you reminded him. “It is not my first rodeo”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right” he nodded. “You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Now go! You’ll be late” you scolded him, pushing him out of his room.

He chuckled and turned around, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Love you!” he called as he made his way out.

“Love you! Have fun!”

“Thank you!”

You shut the door and then looked at Kkami who was comfortably sitting on the bed. “You’re gonna be my date for Valentine’s, Kkami” you sighed.

Kkami barked at you, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, I know. Me too” you said, pressing your fingers into your eyelids. “I miss him too. And he just left”

<>

ONE WEEK LATER…

Hyunjinnie: everything ok over there?

You smiled as soon as you heard your phone chiming with the personalized tone that Hyunjin had chosen for himself.

You quickly typed your answer back.

You: everything’s ok!! u?

Hyunjinnie: everything’s cool. i’m having so much fun, i missed touring honestly. but i miss u as well :(

Your heart literally melted.

You: you sweet little ferret. i’ll tell the kids.

Hyunjinnie: NO! please i’ll never hear the end of it if they know i’m a softie for you

You giggled.

You: for me and Felix, isn’t it?

Hyunjinnie: Yeah, you and Yongbokkie are the only ones i’m soft for.

You smiled and left your phone next to you when you heard someone coming inside the store. As the client finished their purchase and left, you heard your phone vibrating against the counter a few more times.

After the customer left, you quickly grabbed your phone.

Hyunjinnie: so, there’s only five days left for valentine’s day

Hyunjinnie: have you found a date?

Hyunjinnie: i’m sorry i’m sending so many texts. we’re currently having a mini break from sound check

You quickly typed your response, hoping he didn’t go back to sound check.

You: yes, i actually have

Hyunjinnie: oh…

The three dots appeared and then disappeared. Your eyebrows furrowed.

Hyunjinnie: who’s the lucky guy?

You: it’s actually someone you know pretty well

You: he’s been keeping me company these days. he’s lovely

Hyunjinnie: oh

You felt weird watching him reply to you. Wasn’t he getting it?

Hyunjinnie: what’s his name?

You: His name is Kkami. a charming little man ;)

Hyunjin didn’t reply for a solid 30 seconds, the longest thirty seconds of your entire life.

Hyunjinnie: oh lol. i really thought you got a date with someone real

Hyunjinnie: tell Kkami thanks for keeping my girl company

Hold up.

My girl?

Your heart clenched. And so did your core. But you weren’t going to admit that to anyone.

You: i’ll tell him

Hyunjinnie: y/n i gotta go :(

You: nooooo!!

Hyunjinnie: i don’t want to go. but i have to. i’ll text you later, promise!!

You: okay :)

Hyunjinnie: love you! tell kkami i love him too

You: we love you and miss u too hyune!!

You sighed putting your phone down.

My girl.

Yeah, you were not going to let that go.

<>

TWO DAYS LATER…

Hyunjin sat in his dressing room, exhausted after performing for thirty thousand people for 2 hours straight, holding his portable fan in one hand and in the other, his phone. He scrolled his Instagram feed and smiled when he saw that you had uploaded an Instagram story to your close friends.

He clicked on it and his smile got even bigger. It was a selfie that you had taken with Kkami, with a text that said: My favourite cuddle buddy ❤️.

He swiped up, quickly sending you a direct message, reacting to your instagram story.

@hynjinnnn: you two are the cutest!!

@y/n.jpg: thank u <3 we miss u jinnie

His heart melted reading those words.

He instantly clicked on your profile and started stalking your photos. It was unreal the effect you had on him. How every single time he looked at you, or thought about you, his heart would clench inside his chest. Hyunjin was so in love with you, he didn’t know what to do with it.

He clicked on a certain picture, one that did things to him. It was one that you took on a night out with your friends, wearing a short dress that made your chest pop up nicely. He licked his lips and sighed. How is it possible that a woman like you didn’t have a date for Valentine’s? Are men really that blind?

His mind instantly went to Soobin. He knew the guy. He was nice, but Hyunjin really thought the guy was dumb. Did he actually see what was in front of him? Didn’t he notice all of the things Hyunjin sees in you? How perfect you are?

Hyunjin shook his head.

He was going to do something about this. He wasn’t going to let anything stop him from you having at least a little something for Valentine’s. He’d be damned.

<>

VALENTINE’S DAY

You woke up from your slumber and immediately put a hand on your forehead, groaning as you sat up.

“Here goes my pathetically alone Valentine’s day” you said, hopping off the bed. You opened your closet and found the dress you had bought back when you thought you were going to spend Valentine’s with Soobin. “Yeah, you suck” you sighed, grabbing it and chucking it on the floor.

Kkami watched you with curious eyes and it made you chuckle.

“I guess I’m not that alone” you said, grabbing him and taking him with you to the living room.

You put the TV on, clicking on Netflix.

“Twilight it is then” you grumbled, and clicked on it.

As you got through the middle of the second movie, someone knocked on your door.

Your eyebrows instantly furrowed. Who was it?

You peeped through the peephole and saw the delivery guy holding a huge bouquet of red roses.

What the hell?

Slowly, you opened the door and smiled slightly at the delivery man.

“Hello”

“Hi, I’ve got a delivery for… Y/N Y/L/N? Is that correct?” he said.

Your eyes widened. “Yeah, it’s- that’s me. Who are those from?” you asked.

He checked the list and shrugged. “It… doesn’t say” he said, pressing his lips together. “I’m sorry”

“No, no, that’s okay. Do I sign?”

“Yeah, here-“ he said, handing you the paper and you scribbled your sign on it. “Thank you, have a great day”

“Thanks, you too” you said, as you took the flowers from

him and closed the door behind you. “Okay, what the hell?” you said loudly.

You placed them on the counter and saw that it had a card. You quickly grabbed it and gasped.

My muse,

Someone as beautiful and amazing as you doesn’t deserve to be alone on Valentine’s day.

I hope this makes you smile.

Hopelessly in love with you,

Hyunjin.

Your eyes started to water.

‘My muse’

‘Hopelessly in love with you’

Since when?

What does it mean?

Why would he tell you like this?

There was only one way to know that.

You quickly grabbed your phone and clicked on his contact.

You: what the hell???

You: the flowers? the note? what does it all even mean, hyunjin?

You patiently waited for him to answer, and about twenty minutes later, you got your answer.

Hyunjinnie: everything.

Hyunjinnie: it means everything.

Hyunjinnie: you mean everything.

You felt your cheeks getting wet by the stream of tears leaking from your eyes.

Hyunjinnie: i wasn’t going to let my girl be alone on valentine’s day. and as i can’t be there, at least i’ll give you a bouquet of red roses.

You smiled, biting your lip.

You: this is so unfair

You weren’t going to confess to him via text. No. You weren’t going to let that happen.

Hyunjinnie: what’s unfair?

You heard your phone chiming but you weren’t paying attention to it. You were too busy opening your laptop and typing on the airplane ticket website.

Hyunjinnie: Y/N???

<>

ONE DAY LATER…

Hyunjin’s day off was supposed to be relaxing.

But it was the complete opposite of that. He had spent the entire day sitting on the couch next to the window of the hotel room, his leg bouncing up and down and checking his phone every ten seconds to see if he had a message from you.

He had confessed his love for you.

And you said it was unfair.

What did that even mean? Unfair?

He sighed, brushing his hands over his hair, over and over again.

Hyunjin jumped when he heard a loud knock on the door.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“It’s Jisung, open up” he heard his friend on the other side of the door.

He got up with a groan and opened the door. “What?”

“Well, hello to you to, brother. I’m fine, thank you for asking” he said with a sarcastic smile, walking inside his friend’s hotel room.

“What’s that?” he asked, noticing Jisung had something in his hands.

“You didn’t come downstairs for breakfast or lunch, so I figured you’d be hungry” he said, extending his hand and offering him a bowl of raw ramen.

Hyunjin smiled and grabbed it. “Thank you, Ji”

“You’re welcome”

Hyunjin clicked on the electric kettle and poured the hot water on the bowl.

“What’s on your mind, Hyung?” Jisung asked.

Hyunjin sighed. “I sent Y/N a bouquet of roses for Valentine’s” he said and then looked down. “And I haven’t received an answer yet”

“Oh man” Jisung sighed. “I’m sorry”

“It’s okay” Hyunjin shrugged. “I mean, it’s not, but we’ll see” he said, grabbing his ramen and eating a little.

Jisung sat on the bed. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to do anything with you being so far away” he said. “I mean, as far as I know, that girl is obsessed with you. She’s always smiling at you. Whenever we talk about you with her, her face lights up. Even an idiot can see that”

“You’d know that, don’t you?” Hyunjin tried to light up the mood.

Jisung snorted and flipped him the finger. “Ha-ha, so funny” he humorlessly said. “But seriously, I know everything will be fine. Don’t torture yourself with the what-ifs”

Hyunjin nodded, biting on his food. “Thank you, Jisung”

Han smiled. “No problem, Hyung”

He got up from the bed and patted Hyunjin’s shoulder. He got out of the hotel room and as he turned around to walk down the hall, he saw you running towards him panting heavily.

“Ji- Jisung, hi!” you whispered.

“Y/N?” Jisung asked confusedly. “What are you doing here?”

“It- it’s a long story. Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked.

“That’s his room, 806” He pointed at the door on the left.

“Thank you” you sighed.

“No problem” he said, getting inside his own room. “See ya”

You waved and then nervously walked towards Hyunjin’s room. You let out a shaky sigh and knocked on the door.

Hyunjin got up from the hotel room couch, leaving his ramen on the table. Did Jisung forget something?, he asked himself, looking around his room.

He walked towards the door, without checking who it was and his stomach dropped when he saw you standing there, panting.

“Y/N?” he stammered. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

His thoughts were cut short when he felt you tug his head down with your hand by the nape of his neck down to crash your lips against his. His brain short circuited, but quickly put his hands around your waist, pulling you against his chest. You pushed him backwards, inside his room and he kicked the door shut with a thud.

His tongue ran over your bottom lip, bringing you back to reality. You needed him to know.

“Jinnie-“ you said, breaking apart from the kiss.

Hyunjin looked at you and then back at your mouth. “What?” he asked, before pressing his lips against yours.

You smiled, pulling away, and held up the card that was delivered with the bouquet he had gifted you. “This…” you whispered. You saw his eyes flickering with anxiety. “I’m in love with you, Hyunjin. I just… I never ever thought you’d love me back” you chuckled.

He smiled and pressed a loving kiss on your lips. “Of course I am. I’m crazy for you” he smiled against your lips. “You’d think I’d let a friend sleep in my bed, with my dog, and lend them my clothes, and let them cuddle with me?” he asked.

Well, no. Now that you thought about it, the signs were clear.

“Oh…” you said, realizing it. “I’m an idiot”

“Hey. Stop talking about yourself like that, Y/N. You’re amazing. Perfect, even. And so, so, so ethereally beautiful” he mused.

You pressed your lips together, looking down at your shoes with shyness.

Hyunjin brought a hand over to your cheek, caressing it. “I love you, Y/N”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips, a long one. “I love you, my Hyunjinnie” you said against his lips. “So much”

After he brought your bag inside his room, you kept staring at him with lovey dovey eyes. He then turned around and you blushed, his stare making you nervous.

As he kissed you once again, his arms came around you, turning you around and walking you towards the bed with him. He carefully dropped you on the bed while devouring your mouth, which you could barely keep up. He was everywhere. His hands were roaming every single inch of skin he could find while he drowned himself into your drugging lips.

Before dropping himself on top of you, he grabbed the neck of his shirt from the back and pulled it over his head. His toned stomach made you gasp, as you’ve never seen Hyunjin shirtless. He smirked as he noticed your reaction, and he crawled towards you, pushing his face close to yours, in an intimidating manner.

“What is, hm?” he murmured against your mouth before pressing a kiss to your lips.

You licked your lips and raked your nails over his toned stomach. “You’re so beautiful, Hyunjin” you whispered.

“Says you” he chuckled.

“Yeah?”

You felt a surprising amount of courage that made you sit up and pull your own shirt over your head, leaving yourself sitting on the bed wearing your skirt and your pretty white lace bra that you chose for the occasion in case you were to get lucky.

His eyes visibly darkened and dropped to your chest. His mouth pressing against yours with passion made you gasp against his mouth. He pressed you back against the mattress and his hands came up to grope your tits, making your back arch in pleasure.

“You don’t even know the things I’ve been wanting to do to you ever since we met” he whispered against your mouth. He then pulled away and continued his trail of kisses down your neck. “Fuck, you’re so perfect”

His words made your stomach flutter with warmth and you carded your hands through his hair.

“Hyunjin” you whispered into the air.

“What?” his voice came all muffled by your skin.

“Touch me, please” you sighed.

Your voice made his knees buckle. His hands went towards your jeans, undoing them and almost ripping them down your legs. He smirked slightly, watching you from above as you laid on the bed only in a matching set of white underwear.

His tongue came to lick his lips and then pressed a wet, long kiss on the skin of your stomach, making you gasp a little. His mouth started to trail down the kisses down your navel, and onto the band of your panties. He tugged the band with his teeth and let it snap back against your skin. His long fingers grabbed the hem of your panties and dragged them down your legs.

His gaze immediately fell on your core, and it made you self-conscious. You didn’t know why. This was Hyunjin, someone who never made you feel bad about anything. A true gentleman.

Your thoughts vanished when you felt his palms on your thighs, pushing them apart so he could get a good view of your core. He bit his lips and sighed.

“You’re dripping, princess” he murmured, his fingers scooping up some of your wetness and he pressed them on his tongue, licking them clean. “Fuck, I need to taste you”

You didn’t even have time to think, because he was pouncing on you, and started devouring your pussy like it was the last meal of his life. You couldn’t even moan properly, your breath hitching on your throat as you processed what was going on.

His nose bumped with your clit, while his tongue kept pushing in and out of your entrance. Your hands went straight to his hair, pulling every once in a while, making him moan against you.

“Hyun- Hyunjinnie” you moaned, arching your back. “Fuck”

“God, I love it when you say my name like that” he said, pulling away from you and slapping your core, making you yelp. “Say it again”

He then dove right back into business, making your eyes roll back into the back of your head, while your toenails kept digging into his back.

“Hyune” you sighed, as you felt your orgasm closer and closer. “Hyune, I’m gonna come”

“Come, baby. Come all over my face” he whispered, continuing his ministrations.

Your head violently pressed against the mattress as your back naturally arched while your orgasm hit you like a truck. Hyunjin moaned at the taste of your orgasm, lapping up every single drop and not letting anything go to waste.

With uncontrollable gasps, you opened your eyes to find Hyunjin on top of you, his face wet from your orgasm. He kept licking his lips and staring at you with the most enamored gaze ever.

“What?” you asked, with a little smile.

He pressed a kiss onto your lips and then bit your bottom lip. “Nothing. I just was admiring my girl” he said against your lips.

You smiled and your hands went down to his jeans, unbuckling his belt and trying to stick your hand inside his pants, noticing his hard rock erection against the fabric.

His hand stopped your movements. ���I wanna come with you, inside of you” he whispered, making you blush.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you asked, arching an eyebrow as you found a slight ounce of courage.

He smirked, his hands going over your back and unclipping your bra, carelessly throwing it away behind his shoulder. He could only stare.

He couldn’t comprehend how beautiful you were.

You felt nervous, and you grasped onto one of his hands, moving it towards one of your breasts, making him squeeze it and brush his thumb over a nipple, making you moan slightly.

His other hand joined as well, and then his mouth. He sucked at one of your tits, while the other one was being assaulted by his hand.

“Jinnie, fuck me, please” you whispered into the air.

“I will, baby, I swear I will” he muttered against your chest, moving onto the other one. “Your tits are fucking amazing, I swear”

You bit your lip to contain a smile.

He lifted his head from your chest and pulled down his jeans along with his boxers, making his cock slap against his stomach. Hyunjin was big, you weren’t going to lie. And most definitely, what you were expecting.

His hands went to the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his wallet. He took a condom from there and quickly ripped it open, putting it on.

“I can’t believe I’m here” you said out loud.

Hyunjin finished putting the condom on and crawled back on top of you. “Believe it, baby” he smiled and pressed a long, loving kiss on your lips. “It’s happening”

You felt him nudge against your entrance and you bit your lip, holding onto his shoulders. He pushed his cock in and you gasped, arching your back.

“Fuck me, you’re tight” he whispered against your neck. “So, so tight, baby”

“You’re big, Hyunjinnie” you whispered.

“You okay?” he asked, lifting his head and letting his hands brush your hair away from your forehead, the action made your heart flutter. “Am I hurting you?”

You quickly shook your head. “No, no, I swear”

He smiled and continued with his movements, his hips kissing your pelvic bone with each thrust. You could only moan against his neck and hold on to him.

“Harder, please” you pleaded. “I know you want to, give it to me like you want to” you repeated over and over.

Suddenly, he pulled out and grabbed your hips, turning you into a face down position. He slapped both your ass cheeks and grabbed your hips, so your knees were resting on the bed with your chest flat on it. He pushed his length inside of you from behind and thrusted into you so hard it made your vision cloud with white spots.

“Yeah, fuck!” you moaned against the sheets.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” he asked, sweat dripping from his body. You couldn’t answer, really. You couldn’t even form a proper sentence due to his erratic thrusting. Hyunjin slapped your ass again and it made you yelp. “Answer me, Y/N”

“God, yes, I love it” you moaned.

“Good” he groaned, grabbing your hair roughly and pulling you into his chest. His hands went around you, one on your neck and the other one around your stomach, holding you tightly. “I love you, God, I love you” he whispered against your neck.

Your hands carded through his hair and you held onto him. “I love you, Hyune” you moaned as he kept hitting your sweet spot, over and over. “Fuck, I’m gonna come”

“Good, come around me. I wanna feel you” he groaned.

Your back arched as he kept kissing your neck, while his hands gripped onto your tits. With a long moan, you orgasmed around him, without any help from his hands.

He gently laid your body down, on your stomach, while he kept thrusting in and out of you, searching for his own orgasm. Hyunjin gripped your hips as he felt himself getting closer to the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, baby” he kept whispering as he thrusted one, twice and then emptied himself into the condom. Once he had finished, he carefully laid next to you after taking out the condom and throwing it away inside the trash, his hand going to brush your hair away from your face, so he could stare at you. “How are you feeling?”

“Fucking amazing” you sighed with a smile.

He chuckled, caressing your cheek.

You stared at him while biting your lip. “I love you, Hyunjin. So much”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your lips. “I love you, my muse”

<>

ONE YEAR LATER - VALENTINE’S DAY

You opened your eyes slightly, shifting under the sheets and immediately groaning at the pain that you felt in between your legs.

It was all his fault.

He had bought you a new set of underwear and he had ripped it away from you as soon as he saw you in it. And he was the one to blame for the soreness inside your thighs.

You heard soft pattering coming from the hallway and you sat up to see your boyfriend coming inside your shared room, holding a tray with breakfast. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a pair of boxers, which made you bite your lip at the sight.

“Hello, my muse. Good morning” he smiled putting the tray on the bed and crawling on the bed to sit next to you. “Happy valentine’s day” he whispered before kissing your lips.

“Happy valentine’s day, my sweet boy” you kissed him again and again, not able to get enough from him. “I love you. And thank you for this”

“I love you. And you deserve it” Hyunjin told you, grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this. All of you. But I’m so thankful I have this. You” you told him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“God, me too” Hyunjin sighed.

You smiled, feeling so content with the life you had.

Kkami took you both by surprise by jumping on the bed, making you giggle. “Hey, little man” you smiled at the pet, who wagged his little tail and then barked.

“You wanna know what he said?”

“Oh, God. What?” you asked laughing.

“He just said, happy valentine’s day, mommy”

“Mommy? I’m his mommy?” you asked him.

“Of course” he nodded, kissing your lips. “I wouldn’t want anyone else”

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #stray kids #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin imagines

[yerrmar]

𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬

!Fem! reader child of Persephone x Luke Castellan

Summary: you’re just like your mother a loyal sweetheart who’s feared by her enemies; he’s just like Hades completely mesmerised.

warnings: The reader can get quite dark when she’s angry, and Luke is his lovely self, swearing, mentions of: war, violence, killing, and blood.

notes: this is my first time writing on here and writing like this so sorry if it’s shitty im not that good at writing, I just loved this idea and wanted to write it so bad because like i don’t know how to ask someone else to write it if you get what i mean😫

You have a heart made of roses and thorns, beautiful to look at, but if you get too close be careful not to get pricked.

That’s what people at camp liked to do anyway, just look at you. They didn’t want to hear you speak. You are just a pretty face that would never get old. Endlessly, boys and girls plucked petals from your beautiful rose garden, gently placing them into their hands before tearing them apart; right in front of your face. All anyone thought of you for was your beauty, not your fighting skills, or your love for flowers, and not how wicked your mind could be.

It wasn’t something you made people aware of. Why would you? Why would you ever want people to know about your deep loathing for this stupid camp and the Gods that ruled over the earth? They’re pathetic-you hate them, the way they feed off of their children’s desperate cries to be loved, and how they would start wars just because they can.

You hate their children too, for wanting to be like them. For desiring history to continuously be repeated. Watching them never take the fucking hint that their parent has no interest in them. That’s pathetic. Every single thing in this world is pathetic; at least it makes you laugh.

Your mother, on the other hand, isn't like them. She could never be like them. She gives a fuck about you, you didn’t even need to beg her for a reply. There was no wonder Chiron tells you that you are the exact double of her, you are a seed that dispersed from her golden rose.

You always dreamed of a love like Persephone’s and Hades-their love runs deeper than the Mariana Trench. Their loyalty put all the gods to shame. I mean, yes it was bad that he kidnapped her you wouldn’t dismiss that, it was just how they found so much love for each other. But a hard truth that you needed to realise was that the only thing you could ever be loved for is your pretty face.

But you didn’t mind, it's easier to manipulate people when they can’t tear their stare away from your enchanting face. Though it makes you feel miserable most of the time; you just wish that someone would see you for everything you are.

That someone being Luke Castellan- unknowingly to you, he adores everything about you. He often observes how gentle you are when you’re tending to wounds, or taking care of your plants, he can’t help but smile at the motions. Your heart is a mystery to him, how can a person have that much love in their body and not even a pinch of darkness?

Everyone at Camp loves Luke, he's admired by all. He's also talented at hiding his true intentions and feelings.

You knew who the boy was. If you didn't you had probably only just joined camp half-blood. Luke Castellan, the best swordsman and a total heart-throb, you found the boy to be very attractive. You didn’t mean to stare at him during training, but you couldn't help it, everything about him made your stomach do flips. The only downside is that you two had never held an actual conversation before, always just quick hellos as you passed each other, even from that you were longing for him to just give you something more. Something better.

That was till one night, his mind had been racing with dark thoughts that he couldn’t shake. Then he saw you sitting on the dock, your feet dangling over the edge. Your feet are submerged in the freezing, pitch-black water. He wondered what you were doing up so late. As he got closer; the image of you became clearer. His eyes wandered over you. Usually, you had a flower sitting in your hair, but tonight you didn’t. Dried blood covered your knuckles; he could’ve sworn he saw a smirk on your face before he made himself known.

“Are you cold?”

You don't need to look at the person to know who it is. You've dreamed of his voice too often for it not to become familiar.

“No.” You replied, your voice as cold as the chilly air. Winter was arriving, and that's when you unconsciously became more closed off.

Luke frowned watching as your body trembled due to the freezing temperature, “Are you sure? You can borrow my jacket.”

His eyes still never left your swollen knuckles, curiosity almost getting the better of him. You groan, wanting to be left alone without being interrupted at least for just a minute, but everything around you seemed to be getting louder, and now here Luke was trying to start small talk.

If it was any other night you would've been happy to engage in conversation with him; tonight was not that night.

“I'm fine.” You snapped. Luke, strangely not taken aback by this action, placed his jacket around your shoulders anyway. And you didn't stop him.

Luke took a seat beside you, he wanted to ask about your bruised knuckles, and now he could see more clearly, he wanted to ask who caused that cut under your eye.

You knew exactly what he was thinking, it’s not like he was being discreet- you saw his eyes tracing over your hand, and how his jaw clenched from seeing your injury.

First, you tried to think of an excuse; you fell. But you couldn't help but want to tell him the truth, it was strange. “Just ask.”

Luke snapped his eyes to look at yours as you finally faced him. He tried to loom confused as if he didn't understand what you're talking about. “Ask what?”

“You know what, don't play dumb with me Castellan.” You scoffed. He loved how you read him like he was a book, if it was anyone else he would've attempted to kill them for reading him so well (it would be harder to hide), but you're different.

“Fine, you got me, princess. What happened to you're hand?” He chuckled.

You'll always stand up for yourself, no matter what. Nobody could ever make you doubt your worth.

So, when a boy from Apollo tried to make you look stupid in front of his friends, you snapped. Whilst you were practising archery, he came up behind you and placed his hand on your waist making you miss the target. He commented on how naive you are, and how you should accept his offer with private “lessons”.

Your fist collided with his nose, making a satisfying crack. You smirked at how he stumbled backwards, his face contorted into an unattractive expression. You would've laughed if it weren't for the judgemental looks you would have received.

People around you gasped, and some even cheered. The boy looked up at you in shock, his nose creating a pool of blood in his hands. “You bitch!” He hissed before lunging at you.

You didn’t have time to react when he slapped you, the sound echoed across the field. His ring got caught under your eye, causing a gash to appear. You held your burning face and snickered.

Finally, something interesting was happening in this shitty camp. You probably looked insane, but you didn’t care; you felt alive.

Your fist met with his face again, rekindling the connection that was once there. This time his whole body dropped to the ground, and you didn't stop there. You wondered how people felt about your pretty face when it was covered in blood.

People came to his rescue after seeing that you had no sign of stopping, even after he passed out. You ignored the disappointment on Chiron's face as he assessed the situation, with a smug expression and your head held high, you walked away.

Luke cursed himself for not being there, how he would kill to see you get angry like that, to watch you make people pay for being ignorant. Just imagining it made him grin. “How did it feel?” Luke spoke softly to you like if he spoke even just a bit louder, you'd shatter like glass.

You’re surprised by this question. His eyes stare deep into your soul-searching for his answer. He looked at you so deeply and intently that it made your cheeks burn. You didn't answer him, you just turned away and focused your attention on the ripples your legs made in the lake. He already knew how you felt, the way you explained the story to him, how you even laughed at one point. He knew that both of you shared the same anger; the same thirst for blood that came from the gods.

He reached out for your face. Gently, he placed his hand on your jaw turning you to face, his finger softly brushing your cheek. “You can trust me.”

His voice made you shudder, you'd never seen him treat someone so delicately. “Good.” She muttered.

“What?” He asked, even though he heard her perfectly fine, he wanted you to be proud. You’re ashamed that it made you feel so good to hurt someone who deserved it, you loved wiping the smirk off the bo's face. It made you feel… powerful.

But you'd never admit that to anyone. Luke understood that, but he wanted you to know you could talk to him about things like that; about anything. “I love duelling, not because it helps me with training, or because I win every time.” Luke smirked watching how you rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, “I love it because it feels so good to get all that anger off your chest. I love how it sounds when my fist meets someone's face. I love how it makes me feel powerful.”

After every sentence, his face got closer to yours, your noses just inches apart. Your breath hitched as he raised his hand to brush your hair behind your ear. He thought you were breathtaking like this, but you're always breathtaking to him.

You could be covered in blood and he'd still want to hold your face in his hands. He'd still kiss you so softly, but he knew he'd be too hungry for your lips to be gentle.

To Luke, his whole world was grey. Recently he hated everything and wanted to destroy it all. But you, you're the only colourful thing in his world. He'd do anything and everything to keep you safe, if anyone touched you he'd kill them. He so badly wanted to show you how perfect you are-he so badly wanted to close the small space that was between the both of you.

“So, how did it feel?” Luke asked again, seeing you give into trusting him.

Finally, you smirked. “It made me feel good. So. Fucking. Good.”

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #persephone #oneshot #Spotify #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fanfic

[luminoustarlight]

Saccharine | Modern!Anakin Skywalker

What do you get when you mix a college Halloween party with beer and a pretty girl wearing a pirate costume?

A jealous Anakin Skywalker.

rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.3k | read on ao3 warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, drinking, jealousy/possessiveness, SMUT [fingering, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v, come eating/swallowing, mild degradation, like a really brief moment of lactation kink(???)]

the lovely @queenie-official asked for someone to write anakin and reader at a halloween party and anakin gets jealous. i have no idea where 5.3k words came from but y'all i love this one!

and i dedicate this to @hanasnx because we were talking about how we would suck anakin's dick every day if we could.

Here’s the thing about Halloween parties— or rather, Halloween and parties.

Anakin hates both of them. Halloween is a stupid holiday where girls wear short skirts, low-cut tank tops, and a pair of generic animal ears and call it a “costume”. Then they complain about being cold and ask for your jacket. It’s fucking October in New York, what do they expect? 

As for parties, Anakin has never liked them. He’s not a particularly social person. Hell, he’s not even that pleasant of a person but he somehow wound up with you as his best friend in college. He’s the grumpy to your sunshine. He’s a pessimist, you’re an optimist. He drinks black coffee, you like it full of syrupy caramel. He hates everything you like and you don’t understand any of the things he finds fascinating.

The logistics of your friendship is complicated. You don’t know why Anakin is the easiest person for you to talk to even though you have just about nothing in common. You don’t know why Anakin chooses to spend all of his time with you, even though there are other girls in his engineering classes who would kill to talk to him about their shared major. 

You don’t know why he holds your hand when you walk through Central Park while telling you about his hookups. (You wish he wouldn’t talk about other girls with you but you just like the sound of his voice so you do your best at drowning out the meaning of the words). 

If only he knew how miserable it makes you feel to hear about his dating life. If only you knew how difficult it is for you to do the same because every single guy is lack-luster compared to Anakin.    

“I hate parties,” Anakin states. He’s tossing a baseball— the foul ball he caught for you at a Yankees game— in the air to keep his hands busy.

“Yeah, but you love me,” you reply while taking a cream flowy blouse out of your closet. 

“Not if you make me go to this stupid Halloween party with you.” 

You roll your eyes and rest your shirt hanger on one of the knobs on your dresser. You catch the baseball midair and flop beside Anakin on your bed. He props up on an elbow and you just want to soothe the crease between his eyebrows. “Pleaaaase, Ani?” 

“No.” 

“Oh, c’mon! When’s the last time you did something for me?” 

“Look around, sweetheart,” Anakin gestures his arm out lazily. “I helped you move into this place.” 

You huff. “Okay, fine. But you offered. And if I recall correctly, I supplied you with all of the coffee and bagels your heart desired.” 

“There’s only one thing my heart desires.” A lopsided grin forms on Anakin’s lips as his fingers brush against your elbow. It’s a barely there type of touch, one you might not even notice if it weren’t for the sparks you feel every time you and Anakin make contact. 

You fail to mask the sharp intake of air that passes through your teeth. “Wh-what’s that?” 

Anakin runs his tongue over his bottom lip and you think maybe, maybe he just might say what you want him to say. Your heart expands with hope as you await his answer with a bated breath. “To not go to a fucking Halloween party.” 

And just like that, your hope deflates. Of course he wasn’t being serious. Why does his blatant disinterest in you make tears threaten behind your eyes? Is your affectionate friendship really so common that it doesn’t mean anything to him?   

You quickly stand up from your bed and distract yourself by finding the skirt you want to wear in your pile of clothes on the floor. You clear your throat and rapidly blink back any tears before they fall down your cheeks. “Fine,” you say as you find your skirt. “I don’t want you there anyway. It’s the senior Halloween party and I’m not going to miss it because of you.”

“Fine,” Anakin says back. “Go. I don’t care.” 

You gather your clothes in your arms and stand at the foot of your bed. “I have to get dressed first.” 

“So?” Anakin is back to throwing the baseball in the air. Oh, you hate him so much sometimes. You swat the ball out of the air so it lands on Anakin’s stomach, making him groan and his legs curl up to his chest. “Ow.” 

 “So, get out,” you instruct. 

“Jeez. Alright, alright.” Anakin slowly gets up from your bed, being the overly dramatic douche you had to fall in love with. “What, they didn’t put enough sugar in your coffee this morning?” 

“Out!” you point to your door. You’re fuming with him. Why does he have to be so fucking difficult? At this point, you don’t even want to go to the party but you’ll go anywhere to get away from him. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

You take a good thirty minutes to get ready for the party. Inspired by a recent rewatch of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, you decided to dress up as a pirate. You didn’t have to buy a shirt or skirt, which helped keep the cost down. You did purchase a corset, hat, and knee high boots from a thrift store in Brooklyn. With the crimson scarf you’ve had since freshman year wrapped around your waist, you’re set. 

Anakin waits for you on your aubergine couch in your living room. Why he’s waiting, you’re unsure. He’s stretched across the entire length of the couch, his long legs hanging over the armrest. Upon hearing your boots scuff across the floor, he quickly locks his phone and stands from the couch. 

“What are you still doing here?” you brush past him and into the kitchen. 

“I changed my mind,” Anakin replies, following you. You don’t notice the way he looks you up and down, soaking in the entire image of you. The scoopy neckline of your shirt, the flounce of your brown skirt, and the tightness of the corset. The only thing he’s disappointed by is the length of your skirt. It’s not short enough. 

Still, there’s no way he’s letting you go to the party alone. Somebody has to pretend to be your protective boyfriend to keep the college douchebags away. “I’m going with you.” 

You turn around without realizing how close Anakin is to you. You practically step on his toes. He looms over you and you fear he might actually hear your heart racing with how close he is. You back away, straightening your skirt for no other reason than to not look at Anakin. “Are you, now?” 

“Yes.” Anakin crosses his arms. “Are you ready?” 

“You’re going like that?” You counter. “In a zip-up Yankees hoodie?” 

“Take it or leave it, sweetheart.” 

You hate him. You love him. You hate that you love him because you know he doesn’t feel the same way. At least not in a romantic way. You grab a banana off of the counter and march toward the door. “I’d rather leave you here.” 

“Not an option.” Anakin closes your door and uses his key to lock it. The act of him using the key you gave him for emergencies makes your insides twist. It’s on a ring with his own apartment key, as if he’d need yours as frequently as he needs his own. 

You walk down the hallway with a quick pace and make a point to stomp down the stairs, even if it annoys your neighbors more than Anakin. “You’re being exceptionally annoying today.” 

“Thank you,” Anakin accepts the insult as if it’s a compliment. He holds the lobby door open for you and a rush of late October air attacks your skin. You have to hold your hat on your head so it doesn’t blow away. You make an effort not to shudder in front of Anakin, knowing how much he hates girls being unprepared for the weather. At least you’re wearing long sleeves. But it’s not not like the fabric was made to keep the Autumn chill out. 

The party is only a couple of blocks away in Hell’s Kitchen and you’re determined to stay silent all the way there. You’ll just eat your banana and pray Anakin isn’t in a rare talking mood. 

“Why are you walking so fucking fast? I have longer legs than you and I’m practically running.” 

You ignore him. You just want to go to the party, have a couple of drinks, maybe flirt with some guys you have no intentions of screwing, and then go home. Preferably without the puppy dog currently following you. 

“So. Pirate. Interesting choice. You got a thing for Jack Sparrow or something?” Why does he never have anything interesting to say when you actually want to talk to him? Now he can’t seem to shut up. 

Just one more block. Why did he change his mind? Why couldn’t he just be content with going back to his apartment and finding someone to hook up with? You’re sure that’s what he was doing while you were getting ready. The way he locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket when he heard you come out of your room. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like you two are dating or anything. He doesn’t have to hide his booty calls from you. 

“I see what you’re doing,” Anakin jogs in front of you and starts walking backwards. “You’re ignoring me.” 

You give him a look that has “No shit, Sherlock” written all over it. 

“Y’know I don’t like being ignored. I’m too sensitive.” 

You have to laugh. “You? Sensitive?” 

“Ha!” Anakin points at you. “Gotcha.” 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “We’re here, anyway. I know you’re just gonna find a corner and sulk in it so please, just let me have a good time tonight.” 

“Alright,” Anakin surrenders. You walk into the brick building together, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your bones. “But just one thing.” 

You raise your brows, waiting for him to continue. “You look beautiful tonight.” 

Your heart skips a beat and you hate how easily he makes you swoon. How easily your feelings of irritation disappear after one compliment. “Just tonight?” 

“Ah- what?” Anakin looks at you quizzically. Perhaps he didn’t hear you over the booming music and chatter. 

“Never mind!” you shout. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want a beer?” 

“Sure,” Anakin shrugs. You nod and skip off without another word. When you don’t come back after twenty minutes, Anakin starts to worry. It doesn’t matter how many girls have come up to him and batted their lashes at him. It doesn’t matter that he has 11 unread messages from several past hookups waiting for him on his phone. What matters is that you’re alone at a college party with booze and guys who get a little too handsy when they’re drunk. 

He pushes himself through the crowd, not an ounce of care that he’s severely undressed and out of place. Actually, he’s overdressed. He didn’t know the fire marshal could allow so many shirtless ‘Gladiators’ in one building. And here he thought only girls used Halloween as an excuse not to wear anything. He bumps into several people on his quest for you. 

“Hey, man! Watch it!” 

“Yo, dickhead, you made me spill my beer!” 

“What are you supposed to be? A sad Yankees fan?” 

Anakin hardly hears any of it. Actually, everything seems to fall silent when he spots you. Every other body blurs as he focuses on you and your hand on the forearm of some guy dressed as Captain Kirk from Star Trek. At least he has a goddamn shirt on. It doesn't make the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach disappear, though. You know why? It’s because you’re throwing your head back with laughter. Real, genuine laughter. What is this guy saying to you? And why hasn’t Anakin made you laugh like that recently? 

When the familiar figure of Anakin approaches you, you instantly feel bad. You forgot to bring him his beer! And then you realize that you actually handed it to the guy you’re talking to. Oops? 

“Ani! I never brought you your beer! I am so sorry. I got distracted talking to- oh my God, I don’t even know your name!” 

“Oh, uh, Jeff,” the guy tilts his beer bottle toward you and smiles. You smile back and tell him your name. You also introduce Anakin, but he’s not feeling very friendly right now. He’s too busy criticizing the way Captain Kirk introduced himself. 

Oh, uh, Jeff? He had to think about his name? He couldn’t just say Jeff? 

“Jeff and I were talking about baseball. He’s a Mets fan, though,” you fake gag. “I told him about the foul ball you practically saved me from. Whew, my life flashed before my eyes.” 

“Yeah, they come out of nowhere when you’re not paying attention.” 

Anakin hates this guy. He fucking hates him. His fists clench by his side before sidling up next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist. You stumble when he pulls you toward him. “She was paying attention. Are you implying that she wasn’t watching the game?” 

“Anakin, it’s fine,” you place your hand on Anakin’s chest to calm him. “I’m sure that’s not what Jeff meant.” 

“Yeah, man, not at all. I’ve had a couple of close calls myself.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been hit in the head a couple of times with the way you introduced yourself,” Anakin spits. “Who has to think about their name? ‘Oh, um, I can’t remember. I think my name is Jeff,’” Anakin mocks.  

“Anakin, stop,” you try pushing away from him. “You’re being incredibly rude.” 

“I don’t care,” he replies. He begins ushering you away from Walmart Captain Kirk. “We’re leaving.” 

“Seriously, Anakin,” you manage to slither out of Anakin’s grasp. “Stop it.” 

“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” Jeff puffs out his chest. 

Anakin steps in front of you and squares himself in front of the guy with no chance with you. “Funny, I was going to ask her the same thing about you.” 

“Are you her boyfriend or something?” 

“He’s not-” you begin, standing on your toes to talk over Anakin’s shoulder. 

“Something like that,” Anakin answers. Huh? 

“Whatever,” Jeff scoffs. “Thanks for wasting my time.” 

“Wait, Jeff!” you call. “It’s not like that-” 

“Let him go,” Anakin grits. “He’s not worth it.” 

You had almost forgotten about the frustration Anakin made you feel in your apartment. Now it’s all coming to the surface again. Yes, you feel bad for abandoning him and not bringing him his beer but he had no right to ruin your conversation like that. “Oh, and you are?”

“We’re not talking about this here.” Anakin turns and expects you to follow. You have half a mind not to scream at him in the middle of the party but it would be a waste of breath. He’s already nearing the door. You down the rest of your beer and follow Anakin out of the party and onto the street. 

It feels drastically colder outside but perhaps it’s all coming from Anakin’s stare. You stuff your hands beneath your arms in an attempt to keep them warm. “What the hell, Anakin? What was that all about?” 

“Nothing.” 

“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘nothing’? That was not nothing, Anakin. That was… that was…” you search for the word but your toes are starting to freeze. You don’t know how frozen toes correlate to not being able to think, but it does. The wind is biting at your legs and your teeth are chattering. 

“Jealousy?” Anakin fills in the blank. 

“Yes! Jealousy! Are you fucking jealous, Anakin?” 

“So what if I am?” 

You’re both shouting unnecessarily but you’re fucking pissed. This cannot be the way you admit your feelings for each other. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. It’s supposed to be romantic. It’s supposed to happen when you’re strolling through the park and the leaves are falling around you and you kiss and everything falls into place. It’s not supposed to happen during a screaming match on the sidewalk while you’re dressed like a historically inaccurate pirate. 

“So what if I feel like punching every single guy who talks to you? Or even look at you? Hm?” Anakin is backing you into the wall and you have no choice but to retreat. “I am jealous every fucking day. I feel possessive over you and I know I shouldn’t. You’re mine, even though you’re not.” Anakin has caged you in with his arms pressed against the wall above your head. His leg is nudged between yours and if you just lower yourself a tiny bit, you might feel a bit of friction where it’s needed. 

Anakin drops his head down so his nose brushes against your cheek. Your lips are so close, you can feel the warmth of his breath. “You never asked me,” you whisper. 

“What?” 

“You never asked me to be yours,” you unzip Anakin’s sweatshirt and slide your arms into the warmth of his jacket. You press yourself against his chest and you think perhaps everything is falling into place.

“Then I’m asking you now,” Anakin cradles your face in his hands. He runs his thumbs over your cheekbones and wonders why it took so damn long to finally get to this point. “Will you be mine?” 

“I already am.” You pull Anakin down to your lips by the collar of his sweatshirt. He tastes like Altoids and you taste like beer, which isn’t necessarily a pleasant combination but it doesn’t matter. Anakin’s lips are so plush and soft, everything you dreamed they’d be but better. They work against yours like it’s the only thing they’re made for. He’s groaning against you, slipping his tongue carefully past your lips. He’s not overzealous with it like some people are. It’s just perfect. He’s perfect. 

The heat in your core continues to grow and spread throughout your body, suddenly warming you up. “Anakin,” you murmur. 

“Hmm?” He replies, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. He pays attention to your neck—which smells of vanilla and everything nice— and is nibbling gently but kissing harshly. His hands have found their way to your breasts, massaging you through your bra and you just fucking wish he’d stop for a second because it’s all too distracting. 

“Anakin, stop,” you breathe out. 

“What? What, are you okay?” Anakin withdraws himself from you completely and you damn near whine at the loss of contact.

“I’m fine, Ani. More than fine.” 

Anakin relaxes at your assurance and takes a moment to admire you. Your hat is askew on your head and your shirt is crooked from him cupping with your boobs. He hopes the corset isn’t difficult to take off… 

“Anakin?” you snap your fingers in front of his face. 

“Huh?” 

“What are you thinkin’ about, pretty boy?” 

“So many things,” Anakin smirks.  

“Care to enlighten me at my apartment?” 

“Way ahead of you, babe.” Anakin whips out his phone and orders an Uber. He’s not walking five blocks back to your apartment with a hard-on. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

You have no clue how either of you manage to keep your hands to yourself in the Uber, but you do. You hardly make it through your door before Anakin’s lips are back on yours with a heavy desperation. He throws your hat off, letting it land who knows where. His hand is on the back of your neck and you’re doing a clumsy dance around your living room. You’re tugging at the roots of his wavy hair, which he’s been growing out since last semester. 

You and Anakin are a mess of hands as you’re both trying to get the other’s clothes off with your mouths still attached to each other. He’s fumbling with the laces of your corset and you wonder how long it will take him to realize there’s a zipper in the back. 

You shrug off his sweatshirt, leaving him in a basic white tee. Anakin reluctantly breaks away from you when he accepts he’s getting nowhere with your corset. “This thing is fucking impossible,” he groans. 

You giggle as you draw the zipper down your back and remove the black corset from your body. You let it drop to the floor as you drape your arms around Anakin’s neck. “You were saying?” 

“I hate you,” Anakin says with a smile. 

“You love me.” 

“So much,” he replies, lips trailing down your neck once again. “I love you so much it consumes me. I’ve tried to fill this void inside of me with other women but it’s never enough. It’s not enough because they’re not you.”

You’re smiling so widely your cheeks hurt. You consume him. He loves you. You’ve never been happier. “I love you too, Anakin. You have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” he smiles. He grabs a fistful of your skirt and slips his hands beneath the hem to find your panties. “Are you going to let me take care of you tonight?” 

“Anything,” you nod, giving him the permission to remove your panties. You take off your boots and blouse and while it’s by no means a show, Anakin is enjoying every second of it. 

“I’ll let you do anything, Anakin.” You unclip your bra so all that you’re left in is your skirt. Anakin is still wearing a shirt and jeans, which is only mildly infuriating since his golden tan skin looks so radiant against the bright white of his shirt. 

As Anakin admires you, he can’t possibly be filled with any more lust than he is right now. Three years of pining after you is surging through his veins and his cock is insanely hard. He’s imagined this so many times. Would he fuck you slowly? Or maybe you’d rather have it fast and hard. Do you like to be called sweet things? Would you be his good girl? Or would you rather be his little slut? 

He’s overwhelmed with the incessant need to taste your cunt. “Get on the couch,” he instructs. “Take your skirt off, too. I want to see all of you.” 

You nod and once you’ve stepped out of the fabric, you situate yourself on your couch. Anakin kneels down in front of you and resists the urge to spread your legs open so he can see your pussy. “You have to take something off, too,” you say sweetly.  

Anakin swiftly tears his shirt over his head and you knew he was fit, but you just didn’t realize how fit. “Oh my God,” you practically drool. 

“Yeah?” Anakin smirks whilst hooking his arms beneath your thighs, pulling your ass to the edge of the couch. His cock strains against his jeans even more now that he can see your glistening pussy. “You like what you see, sweetheart?” 

You shrug. “Mm, yeah. It’s alright, I guess.” 

“You’re a little brat,” Anakin says before kissing up your thigh. The feather-light touch of his warm lips makes you wiggle. Your hand rests atop of Anakin’s head, fingers massaging his scalp in an effort to keep him traveling up to your core. “You’re lucky I can’t resist a pretty pussy like yours.” 

“Is it the prettiest?” 

Anakin lays a kiss on the inside of your other thigh. His nose brushes against your clit as he places a chaste kiss over your folds while running two fingers down your slit. “No doubt about it, babe,” Anakin praises. Fuck, you smell divine. He wants to spend all day between your thighs.  “The absolute prettiest. Bet you taste the sweetest, too.”

With that, Anakin dips a finger inside of you, making you gasp. “Fuck, sweetheart,” Anakin sucks in a breath. He lays his head on your thigh to watch his finger disappear inside of you and then reappear glistening with your juices. “How can you be this wet already? I’ve barely gotten started.” 

You roll your head along the couch cushions, impossibly worked up and craving more than just one of Anakin’s fingers. “Then show me what you’re made of, Skywalker.” 

Oh, that sends a jolt straight through Anakin’s cock. He wastes no more time teasing you and slips another finger into your hole while attaching his lips to your clit. He flicks the tip of his tongue over your bundle of nerves, two long fingers are curling against your walls, and Anakin can’t get enough. Pussy just tastes better when you love the person you’re eating out. It’s pure saccharine to him. He needs it pumped into his blood to survive. 

Anakin finesses his cock out of his pants and strokes himself several times to alleviate the terrible pain that has come over him. Your strangled cries of pleasure and hand on his head pushing him further into your cunt encourages Anakin to add a third finger. “Anakin! Fuck!” 

“You like that, baby?” Anakin is breathless, lips coated with your nectar. “You like being stretched by my fingers?” 

“Mm,” you hum, fisting his hair, “yes.” 

“Bet you do.” Anakin bites the inside of your thigh and pumps his three digits agonizingly slowly so he can really admire the stretch. It’s a toe curling sensation and a bit foreign more than anything. You had no idea fingers could feel so good. Maybe it’s just Anakin’s. He places the pad of his thumb on your clit, applying even pressured circles and yeah, it’s totally just Anakin who makes you feel this good. “Good little whores love to be stretched out.” 

“Oh my God!” you exclaim, pussy clenching at Anakin calling you a whore. Your bodily response doesn’t go unnoticed by Anakin. No, he’s storing all of this in his memory, creating a file of all the things that make you go wild. “Fuck me, Anakin. Please.” 

“Currently doing that with fingers, sweetheart.” He pumps his fingers faster but rolls over your nub with a more delicate touch. By now you’re squirming off of the couch, heels digging into the cushion and all you can do is chant Anakin’s name. You’re caught in a dichotomy of wanting to cum while also wanting Anakin’s cock. “C’mon, angel, let it go. I want you to cum on my fingers before you take my cock.” 

“But I- hngh…” your words are mangled as it’s no longer an option to stave off your orgasm. Your clit is overly sensitive and the tightness in your tummy begins to unravel as your walls pulse around Anakin’s three fingers. “Mm— oh, fuck! Ani-”

“That’s it, baby,” Anakin coos. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cum.” He draws his fingers from you one by one, each time making you cry from emptiness. Anakin sits beside you on the couch, bringing his fingers soaked in your goodness up to your mouth. You open obediently, only taking in two of them. Your tangy sweetness coats your tongue and you’re looking straight into Anakin’s ocean eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel seasick. 

When Anakin takes his fingers out of your mouth, you maneuver yourself on top of Anakin. The rough denim of his jeans creates a rough contrast to the silky tip of his cock poking your thigh. He manages to get his jeans down his legs and around his ankles. Kicking his feet out of them impatiently, his large hands find a home on your breasts while you grab the base of him and position him under your cunt. He’s kneading your mounds gently, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You slot your lips between his as you lower yourself onto his lap. 

“F-fuck, Ani,” you rest your forehead on Anakin’s as your breathing becomes one. He runs his hands down your tummy, landing on your waist and gives you an encouraging squeeze. “So big, so full,” you murmur. Anakin guides your hips forward and backward, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He’s sucking down hard, no other thought other than claiming you as his.

It’s fucking magnificent having his cock nestled deep inside of you while you’re moaning in his ear, and soft hands roaming his upper body. His hands drop down to your ass, grabbing a handful of your peachy cheeks. You start bouncing on his cock, each time you drop down you feel like he’s in your stomach. “Cunt’s so fuckin’ greedy,” Anakin groans. “You just can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” 

“Mmh, nuh uh,” you babble mindlessly. Your legs are starting to ache but the pain goes in tandem with the pleasure. Anakin presses your chest to his with his arms around your back. You kiss along his jaw lazily, feeling your energy deplete with each landing on Anakin’s thick length. “Need you to…mmm-” 

“Say no more.” Anakin flips you over seamlessly with his cock still anchored inside of you. He hikes your leg over his shoulder and he drills into you at a delicious new angle. His fingers fall to your clit and it sends you soaring. “Fuck,” Anakin breathes. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this tight cunt from me for three years.” 

“Y-yours now,” you have some brain cells left to respond. He’s fucking you hard, tits bouncing with each thrust and Anakin just has to have one in his mouth. While he encloses his lips over one of your nipples, he cups your other breast in his hand. He flicks his tongue across your bud and suckles, as if there’s something in there to nourish him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant. It’s all getting to be too much. The bulge you feel in your belly, the pressure on your clit, Anakin’s warm mouth on your breast. How is he so good at doing so many things? “Ani, I’m close.” 

“I feel it, angel,” Anakin drags his lips across your chest and up your neck until he reaches his final destination. With his lips slotted between yours once more, the roll of his hips is languid and methodical. He’s bringing you along gradually, until your second orgasm washes over you and your limbs are convulsing. You moan into Anakin’s mouth and he swallows it happily. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?” 

“Mouth!” you manage to say. Anakin loses every single semblance of control he had when you utter that one word. He pulls out of you just as he begins to cum, hot ropes landing on your chest before he’s propped his foot by your head and shoves his cock between your lips. 

Your warm mouth welcomes him greedily as his seed coats your tongue. “Shit,” Anakin grumbles. “Such a little cum slut.” 

You nod submissively, wrapping your hands around the rest of his length, all slippery from your juices. You look so fucking sexy with his dick in your mouth, he can’t even think straight. You on the other hand, you could suck his cock all damn day. You don’t even have to think while you’re doing it, you’ll just let your hands, mouth, and tongue do whatever they want. It isn’t until you feel his dick start to soften do you realize he’s finished releasing his load. 

Anakin breathlessly slumps down on the other side of your couch. You scoop up his cum from your chest and bring it to your mouth. “Don’t. Don’t fucking do that,” Anakin says rather firmly. 

“Why not?” you blink innocently. 

“You know exactly why.” 

You don’t reply. Instead, you crawl over to him, pulling the blanket that’s draped over the back of your couch and lay on top of Anakin’s chest. He lets you get comfortable as you’re sandwiched between his body and the back cushions of your couch. Once you’ve settled, his strong arm holds you against him protectively. He kisses the top of your head gently and mumbles something you can’t understand. 

Neither of you say anything the rest of the night. Anakin isn’t a man of many words, anyway. But when he has something to say, he’ll make sure he gets his point across. The point he made tonight was very clear. 

He loves you.

remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!

(ps i'm not a yankees or mets fan. hayden's sweatshirt just kinda looks like the yankees logo even though i know it's not. okay that's it.)

◂ anakin masterlist ▸ main masterlist

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x f!reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin skywalker one shot #modern!anakin skywalker #modern anakin skywalker #modern!au #college au #modern au

[miniwheat77]

Tight. (Mean!Keegan x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Keegan being a meanie, rough sex, hate sex, unprotected p in v sex, sorry if I missed any.

This is not edited give me a break lmao

You flinch slightly as he passes by you, body going rigid.

You cross your arms, nervously passing by him. You hate that he’s able to do this to you.

He’s mean to you. No matter what you do, he hates it. He’s cruel and it’s worse when there’s no one around. You hurry into your room to avoid him anymore. You don’t know what you did, but he hates you.

When you were first on base, you were happy. You loved being in the military and you loved helping people. Until now. His hatred for you made you bitter and cold. Waking up was tiring and miserable and sometimes you just wish you hadn’t. Seeing him, hearing what he had to say. All of it. It was sickening.

You really liked Keegan at first. You tried your hardest to get on his good side. Nothing you did ever seemed to work. Eventually you just gave up.

A sigh leaves your lips. Wiping your tired eyes. You had to trade for watch soon and you weren’t ready.

You stood up, looking out your door to make sure the hallway was clear, you didn’t want to run into Keegan anymore tonight.

You made your way down the hallway, closing your door behind you. You exit through the large metal door and make your way across base to the watch tower. Making your way up the stairs to relieve the last person on watch.

He thanked you before going back down the stairs you had just come up. It was basically a room full of cameras up in a watch tower, meant for watching everything. “Hey, before I go.” He stops just as he’s out of your sight, coming back inside. “Keegan was telling me a little bit about you.” He smiles. He’s standing with his back to the door, closing it. You notice his fingers twist the lock on it. The hair on your body stands up and you stand up from your chair, resting your hand on your sidearm. “If Keegan said it, I’m sure it’s not true.” You mumble. “He was just saying that you like to… get around. Was thinking maybe since nobody will be up here for a couple hours.” He shrugs, tugging the zipper down on his vest. “What he said wasn’t true. I’m not interested.” You say quickly. “Oh come on.. is it me?” He breathes. Taking a step toward you. You raise your shirt up to reveal your gun. “I said I’m not interested. I won’t say it again.” You breathe. He raises his hands up, a laugh leaving his lips. “Alright. Suit yourself. Thought I’d try my luck.” He mumbles. Taking a step back. “He said you were a slut, thought you’d be easier.” He laughs. Disappearing through the door finally. As soon as he’s gone, you’re rushing to lock the door. Sighing in relief. What the fuck was that?

Tears burn your eyes as you sit down, letting your head hang. You can’t help them as they fall. You were so defeated, and so fucking angry.

You wipe your eyes, regaining your composure for a minute before picking up your radio. “Hey, Maria, can you cover my watch for me early? I’ve got a headache and think I need to go see a medic.” You call to her over the radio. “No problem.”

You hurry down the steps, not wanting to be spotted by her. Keegan always spent his time in the mechanic shop on base, he got along with the mechanic and liked learning new things. Most likely he’d be there. It was late, but he didn’t sleep well during the night. You rush across the base, ankles burning from fast walking as you burst through the door to the shop. There’s only one Humvee currently inside. Keegan is sitting at the desk, working on some kind of paperwork. You startle him slightly when you barge through the door, making him look up. He stands up when he sees you. “What are you doing here?” He mumbles. “Fuck you.” You seethe. You pause, the tears slip from your eyes before you even start talking, you want to hold them back but you can’t. Not anymore. Your feet are planted on the ground a few feet away from him. “I just had someone come onto me in the goddamn watch tower because of you. Because of what you keep saying about me.” Your voice is unsteady. “I don’t know what the fuck I ever did you to Keegan, but I can’t fucking take it anymore. You win.” You spit. “You’re so fucking dramatic.” He mumbles. “Dramatic?” You freeze. You turn to him. “You’ve done nothing but make my life a living hell since I met you.” Your voice is quiet and serious. “I used to love this. I used to love knowing that I was helping people. I used to love every second of a mission, getting to meet civilians of all kinds, seeing all parts of the world and looking at peace through the violence. Now? I dread every single second of every single mission, because of you. I pray that I’ll die on them. Get shot, or stabbed. Just so that I don’t have to see your face. When we have to parachute out to reach a mission? I pray that my parachute doesn’t open. You’ve made my life a living hell, you’ve ruined me. So yeah, you win Keegan. Maybe that makes me dramatic but it’s the truth. I hate you. I hate you so goddamn much that it hurts.” Tears stream freely from your eyes. “Okay? What do you want me to say hm?” He breathes. “Why. Why do you do it?” He can’t lie, the heartbreak you feel unsettles him a little bit. “Because. You think you’re so perfect. You think that everything is all fine and dandy. The military isn’t for pathetic people like you. I mean.. look at you?” He laughs.

“So.. because I choose to see the good in everything, I deserve to be torn down? Treated like shit?” You’re moving closer to him. He laughs. “I’m sorry that not everyone can be a miserable sack of shit like you.” You growl. A gasp leaves your lips when he grasps you by your throat, backing you up and slamming you up against the wall by the desk. “Watch your fucking mouth.” He growls. A whimper leaves your lips. “Fuck you.” You seethe. He tightens his grip. You try to swallow but can’t. “Do your fucking worst, you can’t hurt me any-“ he cuts off the rest of your oxygen, watching you turn red. His eyes are fixed on your lips and you look confused. He lets go, hearing you take in a deep breath. He moves closer to you, looking at your eyes before they flicker to your lips.

You’ve got to be delusional.

He grits his teeth, hand shaking as it sits at your throat. “You’re pathetic.” He growls. “Little bunny can’t even take a joke.” He chuckles. You try to push him back, but he forces you back even harder. “I hate you too, you know. Everyone fucking likes you and they don’t know how fucking pathetic you are.” He shakes his head.

“You feel good? Does treating me like shit make you feel good? You’re the pathetic one here. You spend every second of every day making someone else’s life hell because you’re so unhappy in your ow-“

His lips are what cut you off. You freeze for a second, and despite every nerve in your body telling you to force him off of you, you kiss him back. He kisses you hard, forcing his tongue into your mouth, he’s got his mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose. He tightens his grip on your throat unintentionally as he kisses you, like you’ll slip away from his grasp. He lets go of your throat finally, lowering his hand to grope your breasts, hearing you gasp into his mouth. When he pulls away, you take in a sharp breath. Seeing the way you’re looking at him makes him regret it. The loving stare you always have. Intensified by his touch.

He reaches lower, unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your legs. Once your lower half is completely exposed to him, he shoves some of the stuff on the desk to the side. Lifting you up and setting you on the desk. He hurries to unbutton his own pants, tugging them just low enough to expose himself. You’re still staring him down, lips parted slightly. “Stop looking at me like that.” He growls.

“What?” You breathe, “like you like me. You should hate me.” He growls. Lining himself up with your entrance. He tugs you closer to the edge of the desk, pushing himself into your entrance, hearing you gasp. “Oh fuck- you’re fucking tight,” he growls. Your eyes move from his face to where the both of you connect. Watching him slide into the cavern between your legs. You can’t peel your eyes away from him, your body betrays you for him. “Keegan-“ you whine. “The door-“ you gasp, clutching onto the desk. “Shut up.” He growls. “Let them see us.” He pants. He’s got a death grip on your thighs, the desk making an awful screech with each thrust he takes into you. The metal scratching the concrete. You try to be quiet, but it’s hard. As much as you hate to admit it, he feels good. Sliding up against parts of you that’ve been completely untouched. He stimulates parts of you that you didn’t know existed, you didn’t know you needed this. You can feel something building in your lower stomach.

You know that you should push him away, feel disgusted for letting him have something so intimate. You’ll be another notch on his belt, he’ll return to being the asshole that he is. The cry that leaves your lips interrupting your thoughts, you sit up, holding yourself tight. You’re watching him slide into you, seeing your arousal build at the base of his cock. You go quiet and that’s when he’s concerned. Seeing you staring between the both of you. You don’t push him away, so he keeps going. Your breathing picks up, but you can’t tear your eyes away from it. You’re having sex with him, with Keegan. Your eyes finally flicker up to his face and he laughs. “Thought I lost you in there for a second.” He mumbles. Gritting his teeth. You say nothing, breath catching in your throat. “Look at you. So fucking dumb because of my cock.” The knot that’s wound up in your stomach is about to snap. “Keegan- I-“ you breathe. You can’t even finish your sentence, your body lurching hard as you cum, his eyes widening when you soak his cargo pants. Your eyes roll back, knuckles turning white as you hold onto the desk. “That’s it. Cum on my fucking cock.” He growls. You’re gripping onto him tight, sending him right into his own orgasm, hearing loud moans and whimpers leave his lips as he reaches his peak. He fills you up to the hilt, teeth gritted as he fucks you to ride out your high. Enjoying the way you tense up at the way he overstimulates you.

You’re quiet when he pulls out of you, whining at the loss of you wrapped around him. His filth spills back out of you, and he bites his lip when he sees it. He adjusts his mask when he steps back from you.

You move quickly to slide your pants back on, quickly putting your boot back on. You take in a breath to say something to him, but stop yourself. He’s got his back turned to you to clean himself up, and that’s when you take your opportunity to leave. He hears your footsteps and assumes you going to get something. Whipping around when he hears the door open. He sees your arm shutting the door behind you. He sighs. “Goddamnit Y/N.” He mumbles, buttoning his pants and fixing the desk.

—

The following day, he can’t seem to find you. He’s been looking all day. Finally, you emerge into the hallway from your Captain’s office into the hallway. “Well. If you really think that’s what you want, we’ll set you up an appointment and fill out the paperwork for a transfer.” He nods. You smile nervously. “We’re really going to miss you, and between here and there, I hope you’ll change your mind. You’re a good Sergeant Y/N.” He nods, passing by Keegan. Your eyes follow him, and your smile fades when you see Keegan standing there. He’s staring back at you. You tear your eyes away from his, turning and making your way to your room.

You step inside, closing the door behind you with a sigh.

He opens it and steps inside, startling you. He closes it behind himself, locking it. “You’re not going.” He breathes. You stay quiet. “Keegan. You need to leave.” You finally say after a minute. “No. You’re not going. If you go, I’ll follow you.” He breathes. “Wherever you go, I’ll find a way to be there with you. Don’t care what it is or where.”

“You can’t. You’ve done enough.”

He growls at your response, stepping closer to you. “You’re not going. No.” He shakes his head. He grasps his mask, tugging it off. “No. You’re staying.” You close your eyes as he moves closer. “Nobody will touch you like I can.” He breathes. You clench your eyes tighter. “You saw the way your body reacted to mine. I made you cum on me, I filled your pussy with my cum.” He breathes. “Stop-“ you flinch. “You loved it.” He mumbles, he’s backed you up into the wall behind you. “Keegan stop.” You breathe. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” He breathes, pressing his hand to your throat but not being rough. “Nobody will fuck you like I did. Nobody will understand you.”

“You’re wrong. I can’t live like this.”

“Give yourself to me completely and things will change.” He breathes.

“You call me a slut, I’m not doing this.” You push him back but he forces you back. “You are doing this.” He grits his teeth. “I know, I know I don’t say the right things. I didn’t mean it. I just.. you’re so fucking perfect and I can’t.. but you.. you let me fuck you. You let me touch you.” He closes his eyes. “Don’t go.” He breathes.

Your eyes prick with tears and you keep your eyes closed because you know if you see his eyes you’ll change your mind. “Stay.” He breathes. His breath is warm on your face as he holds you there. “You have to stop. If I stay.” You breathe. “You have to stop saying what you say about me.”

“I can do that.” He sighs. Running his hand between your legs. “But I’m going to be rough with you.. I have to be rough with your pussy if you want me to be nice.” He breathes. You go tense as he touches you. You sigh. You don’t know what to do. You feel his lips against yours once again, and you know you won’t be able to stay away if you kiss back.

You’re delusional. He’s played mind games with you. What is happening?

You can’t help it, melting right into him, kissing him back.

Here you go, spiraling out of control once again.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #keegan p russ #keegan x reader #keegan smut #call of duty keegan #keegan russ x reader #cod keegan

[honeypleasejustkillme]

how the fuck do people live like this?? i seriously have a job i hate, bills to pay, extreme anxiety and suicidal thoughts constantly.. i just wish i could “live normally” it’s like i need a full time job but the part time one i have now is killing me slowly.. life fucking sucks.

#actually bpd #bpd problems #bpd vent #actually borderline #actually mentally ill #bpd fp #bpd #bpd shitposting #bpd favorite person #bpd mood #how do neurotypicals do this #i wish i wasn’t so fucking miserable all the time #this is the worst time of my life #i wish i could end it all

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 5 - Meet The Adams Family

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

The first thing you’d done when you woke up, still somehow in the Wayne manor, was pull out not-your phone and check the date. When it tells you that you are not, in fact, in some weird version of a time loop, you feel some measure of relief. The second thing you do is look your own damn name up on Google. There were over 3 million results. You have a Wikipedia page. If that hadn’t made you want to gag, the press from last night had you bumbling your way into the ensuite bathroom and puking into the toilet.

It’s still sitting on the bathroom floor, nauseous and achy and sweaty, your mouth washed out but still tasting foul, that you continue your research.

It’s just as you had suspected, your family was dead. Still dead. Well, shit. In the light of day, you supposed that made more sense. That there was no real reason to assume otherwise. You hadn’t for most of yesterday, but as soon as you’d thought that maybe there was a chance, your hopes had been dashed. Which was good, rip the bandaid off and all.

It was good. Things were good. They were fine, you were fine. You really wish you were a better liar.

Again you wash your mouth out. Root around the cabinets for some medical-grade mouthwash, do it again, and then you throw yourself into the shower. Again. You notice the soap smells like whoever’s clothes you stole. Refreshing and awakening, that mint and earth again. You think you can detect something floral in it too. It’s still masculine, but���

Wow, you are such a freak! You put down the fucking soap and manage to resist the urge to slam your head into the tiles. Your headache was bad enough already.

When you leave the bathroom, you glance at the door, and then down at your towel. Guess you’re stealing some more apparel. You find a Superman shirt, give it a judging glance, and then pick out a black T-shirt with ‘The Beatles’ across the front, and some sweatpants. You have to roll up the pant legs so you don’t trip and fall flat on your face.

One hand scrolling through Twitter and TikTok and Reddit and every single piece of social media you could find, getting the people’s source of news and you get the high overlords’ one when you turn on the huge TV attached to the wall. The remote kind of confuses you at first, but you manage to find the good ol’ Gotham news channel.

Immediately, you’re greeted by your miserable mascara-streaked face. You turn the TV off. You take a deep breath. Turn it back on. Luckily it’s not just you getting your private moment of trauma blasted open in the media. Your party had been filled with Gotham’s elite, after all. You weren’t the only rich idiot left crying by the side of the road.

You weren’t the only one who had to suffer. There had been twenty-eight casualties, in total. A small amount, considering the man behind the deaths. The Joker wasn’t known for his cleanliness. You tell yourself that, and yet still, you can’t make them just numbers. They’d been standing right next to you, after all. All in the same boat, all waiting for the axe to swing, secretly hoping you’re the one who lives to the next day. Only one of the party guests had been shot, and that’s because you think they’d personally pissed off the Joker. That’s what Twitter says, anyway. There were multiple video recordings of the altercation, and it didn’t look like he’d been the smartest banana in the bunch. The TV is a lot sweeter on the dead soul.

You feel sorry for all the dead. You still don’t think this rich heir should be the face you see, though. When you check his name, you find several forgotten assault cases. Assault, rape, just like that disappearing bastard had tried to do to you. That female janitor you’d seen shot had done more for this city than that guy ever had.

Did her family know? Did she have a family? Someone to mourn her? You’d never thought about that before. How many people out there wouldn’t have anyone to even remember them?

It’s none of your business, in the end.

After a whiles more research, you switch the TV off and tuck your cracked phone into the sweatpants. You know where your mother’s grave is, on the west side of the estate. Wikipedia knew all, which was now kind of creepy to you as it knew all about you as well. Really, you couldn’t believe it. Your mother, buried with the Waynes? You’d always thought she should find someone new, someone who’d appreciate her, unlike your father who had dipped as soon as Sam was born.

You couldn’t even remember the guy. Still, you remembered that he’d smelled bad and made your Mum do everything, and was just generally all around the worst choice for a husband.

But, Jesus Christ, Bruce Wayne? Absolute insanity. You had no idea how the two of them would’ve even met. Let alone fall in love and get married. Your mother was one of the loveliest women on earth but… they had absolutely nothing in common, other than having troublesome kids. And you hadn’t seen her getting lovey-dovey with the other PTA mums.

You walk out of the room you’ve borrowed and into the hallway. In the light of day, the Wayne manor is much less creepy, and you can find it in yourself to appreciate the antique space. Warm sunlight falls over dark oak furniture, illuminating your bare feet as you walk along the Persian rug. Your fingers trail along all the tiny little decorations, some annoying part of you demanding you leave traces of yourself behind. Your fingerprints dirty an old clock, a golden candelabra, a lamp and a tiny spinning globe.

You might’ve gotten lost in a place this huge if you couldn’t hear people’s voices floating down the halls. They were too far away for you to be able to tell what they were saying, but you could still hear them. They’re to the west, so you’re definitely going to have to go past them.

You follow the voices and eventually come to a stop in a hallway. You can smell food. Good, real food. The type that makes your instant-ramen-powered body salivate. The people are in the kitchen, right around the corner. You duck your head and quickly sneak past the mostly closed doorway. On the other side, you pause, your curious self unable to leave just yet.

“She needs help,” Bruce says, and you mentally curse. Balls. You didn’t want to hear this. You guess this was instant karma for snooping. Maybe they weren’t talking about you?

Why did that sound very unlikely…

“She went through a lot last night,” he continues, which, well, yes, you did go through a lot, “And he said that she saw a woman get shot right in front of her. It makes sense if she doesn’t want to talk yet.”

He? Who’s he? Who ratted you out? Wait, dumb question, the four other witnesses who saw the janitor get shot. You were still pretty sure the Waynes weren’t supposed to know that, but everybody knew those GCPD pigs were always just a dollar away from whatever you wanted them to do. It’s not surprising that the Waynes know details only the police should know at the moment.

…It is a bit disappointing, though. You chose to have hope in them, that they’d gotten that information legally. Your fatal obsession with the Waynes wasn’t going to disappear after one miserable party. You wished it would.

“She was acting strange before that,” Timothy Jackson Drake’s smooth voice drifts from the kitchen. You were still a little starry-eyed over him, which was… bad, you think. It’d definitely make whatever relationship the two of you had been forced into a whole lot more difficult. It did not need to be any more difficult.

“Are you accusing her of something?” Bruce Thomas Wayne’s voice is gravelly in comparison, angry, maybe. Also, ‘accusing’? What could he even be accusing you of? It was pretty obvious you weren’t capable of anything nefarious, you were far too stupid for that. You were a plastic bag drifting along the Gotham river, barely able to affect which direction you flowed in.

“God no. And I definitely wouldn’t do it with her listening, that’d be rude.”

Your breath hitches, and you push off from the wall. Busted, damn. Your face feels unbelievably hot. As you leave, you can hear Mr Wayne scolding his adopted son. You walk until you can’t hear their voices anymore, and then a little further, finding an exit door.

You stumble out onto a stone staircase, probably a servants’ one in the olden days. You move down it, hand gripping the railing. You’re barely conscious of where you’re going. There’s a path that leads away from the stone manor and further into the estate, and you follow it. When you spot a small gated area, with stone obelisks and angel statues, you veer off the path and onto the grass.

Hissing out a breath, it’s only now you realise you went outside without any shoes on. Your toes curl in the cold, wet grass. It’s a miserable feeling, and you want to walk right back inside. And then you think about the awkward conversation waiting for you, take a breath and keep going. The gates swing open easily under your hand, the golden embossed ‘W’ glinting in the light.

A guardian angel stands before you. Its stone face is disapproving, glaring down at you from above. ‘Interloper,’ it calls you, but you move past it without pausing. It’s pretty obvious which graves are the new ones and which are the old ones. They’re all clean and well-kept, but the ones to the left have dates going back hundreds of years, and the ones to the right only decades. Your eyes follow the rows of graves. Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne…

Your breath whistles out of you, nearly muffled by the grey morning wind.

And your mother. She has a different last name, now another Wayne. Your siblings don’t, which makes sense. You’re surprised to find many of your extended family also in this graveyard. Your grandmother. Your uncle and aunt. A few of your cousins.

It’s cold this morning, and you’re out here with only a thin T-shirt on. Shivering, you rub your palms against your bare arms. It doesn’t do much. Still, you don’t want to go inside yet. Instead, you crouch in front of Sam’s grave, eyes reading the tiny epitaph. It’s not the one you wrote.

‘Beloved Son and Brother.’

Simple, clean-cut, formal… unfamiliar, you suppose. Yours had been much more flowery, ‘All the colour in the world is gone without you’. It was a bit silly, but you’d never said you were a poet. You’d just known you’d wanted something that represented them, if poorly.

Sam was a beloved son and brother. But that wasn’t who he chose to be. He liked colours. He’d change his favourite every other day, so he liked everything rainbow. It made it easier to choose which one he’d like next, he said. You were always buying him more and more coloured pencils because he’d wear them all down to the tips, he dyed the cat a bright red headache, much to your mother’s horror, and considered it his personal job to make every single birthday, christmas, and easter card. He’d paint on the walls in washable markers, and you’d often been the one to volunteer to help him get it all down. In school, he always had the best art project out of the entire class, even if you were slightly biased.

He was a colourful kid. He wasn’t… a plain grey tombstone. Nothing to help remember him, because you were always losing more and more of their precious memories.

The others had similarly impersonal graves. Just what they were, not who. Mother, sister. Nothing that spoke of how they’d lived their lives, what the world had lost when they’d died. It was… you didn’t think it was right. It was a disaster, really. Even when you’d had to rely on the Wanye Foundation donations, you’d managed a better resting place than this.

You suppose you’d never gotten them into the Wayne family’s personal graveyard, though. That was a bit of an upgrade, you guess.

“You need to come back inside. You’re worrying my father.”

“Jesus Christ!” you shriek, leaping backward. Your foot catches on one of the cobblestones, and you end up tipping back farther than you mean to, your ass bruising against the ground. You bump another gravestone, and there’s a horrible moment where it gives a little and you think it’s going to knock over.

It doesn’t. A shining miracle on your day.

From your slightly wet seat on the ground, you look up, finding one such Damian Al Ghul-Wayne. His towering height is the first thing you notice, second his stunning emerald green eyes. Both were incredibly shocking in their own ways, but his height really was almost dizzying. Perfect brown skin and a stylish 'long on the top, short on the sides’ black haircut, paired with the sort of face some European model might have, all come together to make sure you feel as pathetic as possible. His posh-looking outfit doesn’t help.

Neither does the fact he just watches you. He doesn’t even pretend to bend over to help you up. Which you’re sort of grateful for, honestly. It’d just make you more embarrassed. You didn’t know if you could hold the hand of your celebrity crush and… well, be normal. Pretend to be normal. You weren’t doing a very good job of it anyway.

You have to wonder, which was the worst introduction? The drunk, the bloody, or the one where you fell on your ass? God, you really are screwing this all the way up. You wonder how you’re inevitably going to make it even worse. There’s a part of you that desperately doesn’t want to meet any of the other Waynes, even as another part of you is screaming that it needs to.

If they knew they had a fangirl in their graveyard, you’re sure they’d kick you out. That was why you were lying about everything, not because you had intimacy issues.

Stop thinking, you idiot! You’re only making things more difficult for yourself with all your worrying and fretting. And maybe you should get off the ground, you looked stupid. You push to your feet, wiping your dirtied hands on the sweats.

He still doesn’t say anything when you stand, still just staring at you. His open staring is far too intimidating, so you scrounge for something to say.

“Your father? You- Is he alright?” you stammer over your words, giving Damian Wayne an awkward smile. He doesn’t return it, instead canting his head towards one of the windows.

You look toward where Damian Wayne gestured to, find nothing but an empty window frame, and then back to the ridiculously tall man. You swear, the guy had grown like a bean pole. He had to be something ridiculous, like 6’5, or maybe more. You were fairly certain you’d been taller than him at twelve, or thirteen, whenever it was he was first introduced to the world as Damian Wayne. Now, now… not so much.

“There’s nobody in there?” you ask, like you’re questioning your sanity. You are.

“My father’s shy,” He says, coolly shrugging one shoulder.

What. Bruce Wayne? Shy? Was he joking or something?

Damian Wayne stares down at you with narrowed green eyes, and dark brows in a harsh frown. His arms are crossed over his rich kid sweater, shiny black shoes tapping against the cobbles. That’s not the face of someone who makes jokes, you think.

You swallow, mind whirring as you try desperately to fix this conversation, “Right. Okay. I’ll… I’ll come back inside, then. Sorry for bothering you guys.”

He keeps staring at you. He doesn’t seem bothered.

“Sorry for bothering him?” you correct.

Damian gives one slow, cat-like blink of his eyes, and then turns with a tsk and walks away. It takes you a moment to realise you’re meant to follow him. It takes you even longer to actually catch up with him because he’s so fucking tall.

On TV he didn’t look this tall. You feel kind of betrayed, which is weird.

As you’re walking along, getting closer back to the manor, a stick or something pokes you in the foot. You curse, grabbing your foot. Thankfully you don’t start bleeding or something. You’d already be tracking dirt all over the inside of the impeccable space, you didn’t want to bring blood in as well. It takes a moment for you to realise the sound of Damian’s footsteps crunching in the grass has stopped, and you glance up.

He’s staring right at you again. He looks even less impressed with you, raising an eyebrow and mouth ticking downward. You put your foot down and tuck your hands behind your back in a very obvious anxious display.

“You went outside not wearing any shoes?” Damian Wayne asks, incredulous.

“I was… yeah, I forgot to,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. Not your best moment, but you weren’t really having any of those today. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Maybe you should stop thinking about that, actually.

“That’s disgusting,” The young Wayne sneers, and then turns and gives you his shoulder.

You think your heart maybe cracks a little. Well, they do say to never meet your idols. Maybe whoever wrote that quote had you in mind specifically, because now you were in… this situation. Ex-step-sister. If that was a thing. Your Wikipedia page said that you said that a lot, very insistent that you had absolutely nothing to do with the Waynes.

…It didn’t really look like you had nothing to do with the Waynes, from an outsider's perspective. Which obviously didn’t make any sense, since you were… you. You were not an outsider, not anymore.

This was too complicated. You needed a coffee. With like, so much sugar it’ll make you bounce from the walls.

Damian strides up the side entrance’s staircase and through the door, leaving it open for you to follow through. You hesitate at the doorway, looking over your shoulder to the graveyard. The statue calls you names in the distance, and although you feel like a stranger who doesn’t belong here, you manage to step back into the house.

You force yourself to walk through the hallway and into the kitchen, fists clenched tight at your side and your shoulders bunched up to your ears. Bruce Thomas Wayne, Timothy Jackson Drake, and the butler from earlier. Damian Al Ghul Wayne steps around the trio, picking some drink from the counter and moving to sit at the dining table at the edge of the room. There’s an open book on the table that he starts flicking through, and well, apparently that’s the end of your first conversation with the youngest Wayne.

You did… well, alright might be pushing it. You're still going to say you did alright.

Tim Drake gives you a sweet smile, catching your attention. The silky raven hair of his heart-shaped fringe falls over his beautiful, pale face, and for a moment there you totally forget that he’d called you out earlier like that. Which was just, such an odd thing to do. His hand lifts to scratch at the buzz cut under the floppy strands of hair. The movement mesmerises you. You look away from his sky blue eyes, very quickly realising they’re robbing you of the few remaining brain cells you have. And you need those, damn it. Especially because you’d already made the decision to hide from all your problems like a baby. Negative, negative…

“How’re you doing today?” Tim asks you, giving you a friendly greeting. It’s a welcome olive branch.

“I’m good,” you lie like you breathe, eyes glancing around the space. Bruce Wayne has his phone out and a mug of coffee in his hands. He sips from the cup, his focus swallowed by the tiny screen. You glance back over to Damian Wayne. Huh, it really does run in the family.

Your neck prickles, and you glance back at Tim again. You get a brief vision of his tired, unsmiling expression, and then it’s back to the angelic and gentle smile. You smile back at him, a wretched, awful twisting of the lips that you hope doesn’t look like a grimace.

Tim’s smile turns into a grin. It’s really too pretty and makes you shift in your seat uncomfortably. Damn it all, look away!

“Would you like some breakfast, young miss? I’m afraid we’ve run out of pancakes, but I’d be happy to make some more for you,” the butler says in an awfully familiar British accent. You think you know this person, but you can not remember from where. Shit. Your memory was bad on the best of days, much less after… after an event like last night.

Anyway, the food from earlier had been pancakes. Despite the delicious scent, you really didn’t want to make him make any more food for you. You felt like you were intruding as it was.

“Do you have any toast, or… cereal?” you suggest instead, wondering if rich people even bother with cereal. The butler chuckles, and you think, ‘Oh, yeah, probably not’.

“We have both, miss. Master Grayson has a particular fondness for cereal, in fact,” he informs you, which, oh, cool. You did in fact know that, you stalker you. You’d totally forgotten about that weird fact or the weird fact that you knew that weird fact. Dick Grayson has an Instagram where he posts reviews of different cereals, which of course you have notifications on for.

“It’s more of an obsession,” Tim says, resting his palm in his hand as he… continues to stare at you. Nobody else thinks his ogling is strange, so you try to ignore it as well. Try is the choice word.

“I like cereal too. It’s normal,” you say in defence of Dick, a natural and instinctual urge.

And apparently, the fact that you like cereal is fucking shocking, judging from the open-mouth looks the group gives you. Oh no, you’re supposed to hate him, right? You’re supposed to hate them all, actually. What had you called him on your phone? Something about being annoying and a dickhead?

Swallowing your inner scream, you move around the counter and towards the cupboards. Whatever, they’ll have to deal with this new and improved version of you, which didn’t despise everyone in the room. Along with being a terrible liar, you were also pretty bad at keeping secrets.

You don’t want to think about that, so instead you turn to Alfred.

“So,” you start, “Can I see your cereal collection?” you ask, like a totally normal person. Man, this cupboard’s looking pretty head-smashable right now.

This family has more tact than yours did, because they all manage to put their eyes back to what they were doing and pretend you weren’t acting really, really out of character. Rich people. They’re good at overlooking the crazy.

“Of course,” the butler clears his throat, “In here, you’ll find Master Dick’s collection-” score! Not another fan can claim this right, “-and in the fridge a carton of milk. Are you sure I couldn’t serve it for you, miss? I understand you might still be a little…”

His voice trails off. Little what?

He glances at the others and then leans in close like he’s going to tell you a secret. Behind a hand, he whispers, “Hungover.”

Ah. Well, yes, but you were a big girl who could make her cereal, even on hangover days. Kind of embarrassing it was that obvious, though. You were usually better at hiding how much of a mess you were.

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” you say, and the butler nods and backs off. You’re pretty sure at this point that he was the one who called you yesterday morning, but you still couldn’t quite recall his name. When you were out of sight, you’d check your phone for his contact information.

See? You could do this. Stealthy.

As you start perusing through the cereal options, Tim gets up from his spot by the counter and comes to stand next to you at the breakfast bar. He heads straight to the coffee machine, and you glance at it longingly.

It’s one of those cafe-quality fancy espresso makers, with an Italian name embossed in silver on the top. Tim manipulates the machine like a master, which you’re very jealous of because it might as well be alien technology to you. You miss your shitty drip coffee, at least that dingy little machine was loyal to you. Better than George.

“Coffee?” Tim Drake offers, glancing at you. Ah, the starry eyes are back. While Damian Wayne had been a mildly disappointing introduction, Mr. Drake was just reinforcing your celebrity worship. And of course, because your brain works against you, his offer reminds you of the daydreams you’d had on your first twenty-first birthday. Coffee shop au real person fiction- a new low, even for you.

Flustered, you look up at the ceiling. The old mansion is decorated in every single available corner, the plaster above spreading across the entire surface with delicate filigree and pretty curling patterns. It’s gorgeous, absolutely entrancing. That’s what you tell yourself at least.

“Please,” you say, your voice just the slightest bit too quiet. He hears you anyway.

It’s surprisingly domestic. Of course, you don’t know any of these people past face value and Wired YouTube interviews, but… it’s quite indulgent. This is sort of your dream, isn’t it? A full house of people enjoying their morning together. Peaceful bird song drifting in through open windows. The comfort of being around people you trust, not having to perform or put on a show. Well, you are very much putting on a show right now. It’s the thought that counts, or whatever.

“What would you like in it? We have sugar, milk, oat milk, and I like having a few syrups on hand,” Tim chatters excitedly, listing off the different ingredients he has on offer. Your poor ass stares at his rich one, and you are very rudely reminded these people live in different tax brackets than you.

Who the fuck had coffee syrups in their house? You could barely afford the little treats of caramel syrup you get every couple of months. The disappearance of the middle class was one you had witnessed personally.

You rattle off a very basic, bland order. Tim looks sort of disappointed in you which… well, you could be a coffee snob. You just didn’t have the time, usually. A flat white kept you going through the day, you didn’t need anything else. And so, Tim hands you a very bland coffee, and it is god sent. You can’t imagine how good it would be if you had mustered up your courage and asked for some caramel syrup.

Huh, you could be a coffee snob. You could be anything you wanted, really. And your first thought is being a coffee snob. Good God.

“Are you going to be staying?“ Bruce Wayne asks, immediately putting you on the spot. You weren’t ready for this, you were thinking about the coffees you could buy. Oh no, you really aren’t ready for this.

“At least for now, right?” Tim Drake says, just making it all the more stressful. You let out an awkward chuckle, fingers tight around your drink.

“Oh, I don’t want to be an inconvenience-”

Damian Wayne slams his mug down on the table, so hard a crack splinters up its side. He picks the cup up, strides across the kitchen, narrowed green eyes meeting yours for a second, and then he dumps the cup in a secret rubbish can. He murmurs an apology to the butler and then is out of the room.

Okay, well, you certainly feel like an inconvenience.

The butler clears his throat, and says, “Please forgive young master Damian. He’s been having a difficult time recently, I hope you can understand.”

And you think, ‘bitch, a difficult time?! He’s not the one who almost died last night!’ but what you say is, “Of course, I completely understand. I don’t want to bother him anymore so I’d really like to leave today.”

Mr. Wayne laces his fingers together, blue eyes giving you an assessing look.

“Stay for the day, and you can leave tonight. I want to make sure you’re truly alright,” he eventually says, and the mere presence of the man has you yielding to his commands. Didn’t really matter you were an adult who’d managed to survive this long on your own, you were listening to the big scary guy when he told you what to do.

Well, that’s that! You make your cereal and have a very quiet breakfast. You can’t tell if they’re being quiet because you’re here, or if mornings are usually like this. You hope they’re usually like this. Once you’ve finished your very nice cereal (one of the highest rated on Dick’s Instagram) you place the bowl by the sink. You want to wash it, but when you ask Alfred he gives you a look like you kicked his dog. Okay, you’ll just go then.

You’re about to sneak away, when you realise Tim’s staring at you… again…? But this time he seems quite focused on your clothing. His eyes follow the double lines on the side of your sweatpants, before settling on the Beatles logo on your shirt. He hums at it. Raises his brows.

“I’m sorry, I borrowed this because I didn’t have any other clothes. Is there something wrong with me wearing this?” you ask, and then experience a moment of horror, “This doesn’t belong to you, does it?”

“Hmm?” Tim chirps, “Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s not mine.”

And then he turns away from you in a very clear dismissal. Nice, you really wanted to go hide for an hour or two. With one last awkward wave to Bruce Thomas Wayne, you scurry out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom you’d started thinking of as yours. You need to figure out how you're going to handle all this, and you're going to do it alone. Maybe with some dessert, if you can find it. You wouldn't say you think better with sugar running in your veins, but it definitely makes you more willing to deal with the bullshit that is your life. Hopefully it'd work in your new one, too.

-

Tim listens to your retreating footsteps, waiting till you’re far enough away to begin talking to Bruce. Humans were creatures of habit, so you’d probably be going back to the same room you slept in last night. He thinks Damian and him were the only ones who noticed whose shirt you were wearing, B’s off his game today. You’ve really managed to mess him up, to Tim’s delight.

“See? Dames was totally fine with her being here,” Tim says, cheerily enjoying his youngest sibling’s suffering. Bruce sighs, witheringly, lifting his hand to rub against the headache he always has. He’s probably noticed the excited, slightly fanatic gleam that’s entered into Tim’s eyes.

It was sort of obvious. This was all so exciting! You’d come back, sporting absolutely none of the defensive vitriol you usually have, and ate breakfast together. You took a coffee out of Tim’s hands. You’d willingly spoken to the devil, who everybody in the family knew hated you as much as you hated him, and even more than that-

You’d spoken to Bruce. Tim was sporting the idea that you’d gotten head trauma, at this point in time.

“Okay, fine. You get the mission, but-” Tim has to resist the urge to clap his hands together like a gleeful child “-but no extra cameras. I’m serious, Tim, if I find out you’ve invaded her privacy just after she’s starting to warm up to us again-”

“She wouldn’t know,” Tim complains, cutting the Bat off with a roll of his eyes.

“She’s smarter than you’d think,” Bruce shakes his head. Tim has to disagree, after the catastrophe that was last night. Unless of course, you were just playing with them all. So many options, it’s dizzying.

“We’ll shelve that argument for later. So, I want full control of the case, and in turn, I’ll do another two weeks as CEO,” Tim waves off Bruce’s complaints, going straight into haggling. The CEO position was tossed between the two of them like a hot potato, and it was one of Tim’s favourite bargaining tools.

“I am absolutely not agreeing to that, a month and nothing less.”

“This is why half your children don’t talk to you, but sure, whatever. Chase away your last, loyal loving son-”

“My God, Tim. Three fucking weeks, and if I hear another word I will hand this matter over to Grayson,” Bruce sighs, sounding a bit defeated.

Tim gives an offended gasp, placing his hand against his chest. And then he realises Bruce might actually be serious, and freaks out a bit.

“He’d be bad for it. Far too personally involved. You definitely don’t want to do that,” he says, leg bouncing under the table. Of course, the Bat notices, but he doesn’t mention it. He wouldn’t take this from Tim, they both knew he was getting too frazzled around the edges. He needed something to focus on, to ground him.

You were the perfect project. He loved his projects.

“I am aware. But the girls are out of town, and uncontactable. And I think if I gave Damian this assignment the two of them would kill each other.”

“No Jason option, sir?” Tim says because he’s a shit-stirrer and wants to get to work.

Tim succeeds in chasing Bruce away. He’s left to have his coffee in peace as the old man quickly flees the room at the mention of the son he's on the worst terms with. For the next few hours, Tim taps away on his computer, enjoying his time.

And when the front doors open, his ears prick, and a decidedly evil grin spreads on his face.

“I’m home!” Dick calls out, words travelling through the grand manor.

Tim gets up from his seat and wanders leisurely to the main hall, where Dick stands. He’s got a suitcase by his side, filled with all the things he’s brought up from the Blud. When he spots Tim, Dick’s face spreads in a familiar sunny smile. He quickly rushes to Tim’s side, swallowing the younger brother in a hug. Tim groans at the tight squeezing.

Despite his clinginess, it was good to see him. His tanned skin glowed healthily, and his curly black hair was messy over his brow. Sapphire blue eyes sparkled. He was happy to be home, despite everything that was going on. Dick always looked like he’d just gotten back from a run because he usually had. It was hard to get the guy to sit still for even a minute, much less stop parkouring over every imaginable surface.

“Tim! How’s it been? Ah, it’s so good to be home,” Dick starts, and again, Tim groans. When Dick starts yammering he never stops.

“I’m good, man. We can talk later, you should go put your things away before Alfred does,” Tim reminds Dick, and Dick pouts. It was a general rule that unless it was cooking, the family wasn’t supposed to rely on Alfred for everything.

“Alright, alright. I’ll be down in a minute! I have so much to tell you,” Dick relents, hand lifting to mess with his hair. Tim pushes him off, glaring at the man, and Dick laughs.

Tim gives Dick a tired wave as the gymnast bounds up the stairs to his bedroom. Tim watches him disappear down the hallways, and thinks, ‘I wish I could see this happen.’ He sighs, guess he’ll just have to hear Dick retell the story later. The distant sound of your shrieking voice has him chuckling. Yeah, he’ll hear about it later, he’s sure.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

[hyewka]

can i suggest a fic where beomgyu is helping take the reader’s mind off a bad breakup…. by fucking the living SHIT out of her NDJDNDJDJDJ

while i fuck you straight | c.bg

warnings; hard dom best friend!gyu, sub!reader, unprotected + pullout method, breeding kink, a spank or two, praise + degradation (mostly praise), slut shaming, rough marking, a tinge of possessiveness, friends w/ benefits, no romantic feelings involved (or are there?), ruined orgasm, princess pet name, beomgyus an insatiable manwhore lol, needy perv gyu with a lot of spit play, fingering, titty sucking hehe, literal messy filth and also barely proofread on my end

a/n; have to thank jazmine with all my heart for proof reading and giving suggestions, i love you so much 😭 @heart2beom this shouldn’t be a big deal as it is, but it is my first time writing full on dom beomgyu so it is this mini celebration for me and all the dom!gyu enthusiasts (i hope) 😇 reblogs are appreciated, keeps me going

You held your phone above your face, scrolling mindlessly through your socials, though subconsciously, you were really just awaiting a call from your boyfriend. Well, now ex-boyfriend. It's already been a week since you got dumped but no matter what went down that day, you couldn't get over him.

It was pitiful every time you jumped up from your bed at a notification just to find it was in fact not your ex asking to take you back and ...just a random spam email.

Beomgyu had his back against your bed, legs sprawled on the floor, also on his phone. You guys had run out of things to talk about when every conversation spun its way back to your ex- Seen that new avengers movie? You wanted to watch it with your boyfriend. That professor just got fired! You remember your boyfriend used to complain about that class. Gosh, you don’t think you’ll ever get over him.

"You're miserable." Beomgyu suddenly brings up.

You groan, as you repeatedly refresh your feed. "Gee, thanks Beomgyu. That definitely doesn't make me ten times more miserable."

He lets his head fall back on your bed, looking up at you through an upside down lens, abandoning his phone. “No, like truly miserable. I’ve never seen you so up and dry and…sober. Be young, live a little.”

You narrow your eyes at him, looking past your phone for the past time in a while. “…You talk like you’re 80 years old, about to retire and wallow in self pity, having experienced all there is to life. Thanks Gyu but no thanks.”

“I’m an old soul Y/N.” He says patting his chest, and you roll your eyes. Not necessarily refuting it, it’s his entire personality. “Where’s the chick I used to know anyway. The old Y/N would’ve been over this in a day with a quick hookup rebound.”

You finally put your phone down, staring up your ceiling. He was totally right. Who else would be right about you if not Beomgyu? But you don’t want to think about your old self, or you’d start sobbing again. Not like you were a totally great person, but that person wouldn’t be so stuck on someone. Anything but being the lovesick, doting person you would’ve made fun of just a year ago. God, he really changed you hadn’t he?

You kick your feet, whining, falling into the abyss of treasured memories. “You don’t understand, he was different, he—he was the one, you know?”

He ponders for a bit, room silent, staring at you through his soft lashes, and you think that maybe he’ll give it you; sympathize and understand that grieving was the entire process of a first love. The silence is suffocating when finally, he lets out a light scoff, cutting through it. “No, no I don’t know. Bet you just got soft.”

“God, fuck you Beomgyu.”

He grins his stupid grin that the situation definitely doesn’t call for, “You wish.”

You think if he wasn’t with you through thick and thin for the past four years, you would’ve definitely developed some sort of hatred.

You could visibly notice a lightbulb spark above his head with the way he immediately sits up straight. “Hey, hey wait.”

You tentatively watch as he turns his back away from you, laying both his arms on the soft cushion of your mattress. “I think I might’ve just had the best idea ever. Of the century. The idea of the century.”

“I highly doubt that.” You say, blindly feeling the surface for your phone already.

“Just hear me out,” he whines noticing your eagerness to dismiss him. “But also don’t freak out or anything. Promise me.”

You stare at him, hesitant before you give in to his doe eyes. Sighing, you say: “Okay. I promise I won’t ‘freak’ out. What’s your groundbreaking idea?”

“We should like… fuck.”

Your brows are slow to raise, the rapidness of your blinking at what you think you just heard—no, not think, know. Beomgyu’s voice, loud and clear with his diction, your eyes widen at the final click of it all. Before you know it, you’re reaching for the pillow behind you, flinging it at him with all strength.

It’s like he predicted it prior, dodging one… and then another as you throw all remaining pillows on your bed. Instead of missing with your last one, you decide to hold on to it, and attack him with it. His smug demeanor of successfully dodging everything just a second ago, dissipates as he takes cover for protection. “Are you fucking—are you crazy?!” you yell exapserated, more than awake with your wide eyes.

“Ya! You—you promised you wouldn’t freak out!” When that doesn’t stop your mania with the damn pillow, he decides to lay it all out with as much speed as he can’t seem to escape your wrath. “You want to forget him don’t you? I mean, you should! He dumped you, it’s over! Sulking over him is—Ow! So out of character for you—fuck—I promise a one time fuck would get your mind off him.”

Your pillow is mid air, and Beomgyu opens an eye to peek, hands still in protection mode—you sigh, landing a weak hit on his head before loosening your grip. You do want to forget. You’d do anything to get rid of what you’re feeling. But…

“It—it wouldn’t change anything for me. If that’s a worry. You know that no matter what, you’re my best friend.” He finds his footing, collecting himself, looking at you with intensity you could date back to just a few times over the course of your very long friendship. “Someone I care about. I can’t stand seeing you hurt and not being able to do anything. You know that.”

You bite down on your lip, staring at the familiar boy with his familiar brown bed of hair, and his familiar eyes, lips…How fast did he get you to actually give this a thought? Probably a minute or two. Beomgyu had a way with convincing you to do …anything. “I…know. But what if, what if I’m still head over heels in love with him? What if it doesn’t change anything for me?”

A grin gradually takes over his face, one that is once again, not fitting for the situation. “Why—why are you smiling like an idiot? This is—”

“It’ll change.”

You knit your brows together. “What?”

You don’t notice the way Beomgyu’s hand slowly inched to yours but suddenly, his palm was over your hand, squeezing it just a bit. “Having sex with me is a once in a life time opportunity. You’ll forget him. I promise.”

If you weren’t so lost in his eyes, as cliché as it sounds, you would’ve been completely taken out—probably a joke on his sheer confidence because who just says that? But he’s so …hypnotizing as you don’t even take notice of the ‘okay’ that leaves your lips.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” You exhale, “Okay. We’re adults. This won’t matter in a few weeks. Let’s do it.”

Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate for more than a few seconds before he was on your bed, crashing his lips on yours, a brief taste of strawberry lip balm, knocking a breath out of you until he slows down, testing the waters, then he stops, noses brushing against each other as he searches for something in your eyes, breathing already heavy, “Is this weird? Was that weird?”

You gulp looking down on his already glistening lips, and you nod. “The—the situation, not …the kiss. Fucking your best friend is an odd situation. The kiss…the kiss was good.” You ramble, your voice barely a whisper but he catches it anyway as you take notice of a small smile before he’s kissing you again, hands once cupping your cheeks already moving down to your tits, ministrating gently—every bit of his action seemed careful, too careful for what you know of the things your friends had told you in heated rants and swoons.

Half of the dictionary could be used to describe Beomgyu, and promiscuous was not an exclusion. You could probably say you already fucked him with the headache inducing details about what being with him in bed was like. Which is why you’re nervous as hell right now. From what you know, Beomgyu was… a lot. More than you could handle now, after an entire year of keeping yourself to one man.

“Jaehyun was worried about you. Was worried about what you’d do to me.” You blurt out randomly when Beomgyus’ moved to peppering feathery kisses along your jawline. He hums against your skin, then stops for a second to whisper, “He was?”

You could feel the smirk on his lips, opening his mouth a tiny amount to slightly suck on your neck at the process of your words—of course Beomgyu would get an ego boost from this. “Why?”

Beomgyu is practically suffocating with how little space he’s giving you, body flush against flush, your chest heaving the rougher he increasingly gets with his marking, his sly hand down to rub between your thighs, right at your core.

“Said you only wanted to get into my pants—h-ha shit, slow down, slow down Gyu.” You were getting teary eyed by his increased speed, friction against your sweats getting you wetter by the second whenever the pad of his finger teased your slit. “You know he—he asked me to stop hanging around you b-because—”

None of this was new to Beomgyu, your past boyfriends have always been worried about him for the exact reason—that he’d convince you to let him fuck you, because apparently women can’t have male best friends without it being more than platonic. But …you guess you aren’t really proving them any wrong now with the way you were letting him have his way, marking messy purple splotches all over, in hungry predatory manner, getting rougher and rougher by the second. You gasp when he abuses the same spot he just visited a few seconds ago, “Beomgyu!”

“Because?”

He presses on your aching core, pending you with the question. He didn’t seem as happy as he was with his smugness prior. “Because he thinks you’re a sleaze.”

An incredulous— mean chuckle from the back of his throat and suddenly his hand was down your panties, abandoning the long game of teasing in matter of seconds. He doesn’t touch you though, which only proves to make you more insane. “That’s dumb. Do you think I’m a sleaze?” You shiver, his deep voice so close to your ears, breath fanning against your cool skin—your eyes could go sore from how hard you’re shutting them closed.

You refuse to give it all to him, it makes you feel embarrassed and small. A new, foreign feeling you never thought you’d experience with Beomgyu of all people. “I-in some ways, yes.”

Not a satisfying response from you, he clicks his tongue like you were a misbehaving child, “You’re really annoying, you know that?”

You don’t get a chance to retort before you feel the pad of his finger prodding your pussy, then moving to gather your wetness.

Suddenly, he freezes his movement, pulling back from your neck, looking at you with an amused glint to his dark eyes. “Shit, you’re fucking drenched. And I barely did anything—”

You think he’s making fun of you so your cheeks quickly flush red, already putting up walls of defence but then he kisses you in the heat of the moment, wiping your frown away and you’re finding yourself reciprocating without a second thought—the kiss so sloppy and messy, string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away out of breath. “Fuck, that’s so hot princess. You’re so hot.” He breathes in awe of the spit—he truly is the biggest perv.

“Spread your legs for me.” he groans, trying to get better access to your pussy. You obey, admittedly a little slow, but who can blame you? It feels embarrassing regardless of who, but it’s ten folds with your best friend. “Moreee.” he whines, and god you wish you could slap him—can he not see that you’re trying?

“Beomgyu—“

Your voice gets cut off, gasping when he takes it upon himself to pull down your sweatpants with a quick swift motion, taking it off completely, revealing your patterned underwear—and god, now you’re hiding your face…everything was so embarrassing. He takes a second to examine the wet dark spot right in the middle, proof to what he felt earlier, but then you kick your feet. “Stop staring freak!” you shriek.

You can see through the cracks of your fingers the smirk he has on, looking at you with so much intensity you think you’d melt. He reaches out to grab your hand and put it down, even through your resistance, you couldn’t match his strength to your dismay. “I wanna see your face. Have to let me see you fall apart on my fingers like a little slut.”

You’re scandalized at his wording, your cheeks once again quickly heating up. But you let him part your timid legs anyway, big hands gripping the softness of your thighs, spreading your legs as much as he possibly could, to the point you felt yourself cramp up. But even with whines of protest he doesn’t ease up—bunching your panties to the side, impatient when finally he inserts a digit—experimental with his movement before you hear him groan out a curse. “You’re so tight holy shit, did he even fuck you?”

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know.”

Your senses are already overflowing, you could feel his hard on, his erection pressed on your bare skin, you’re hyper aware of the finger inside you—slender and slow with expertise as he pushes in and out, talking to you as if you could respond with anything more than restrained mewls. “Maybe dating him was good, then you had to be monogamous and not whore around with every guy you laid eyes on like you used to.”

“I-I never whored around—shit.” He suddenly speeds up, a merciless grin spread on his face—did he find messing with you funny?

“Yes you did. It was a new guy every…it was weekly, wasn’t it?”

You shake your head at his accusations, tears brimming when his mouth finds it use, suckling harshly on your nipples through your flimsy top—your body extra sensitive with the way you spasm on a singular finger. He pumps in two without warning and you yelp, hand reaching out to grab at his hair. You swear you could cum just from the stretch. “Stop denying it, you’d do anything for dick. I’m surprised you stayed so long with that bitch. Was he any good?”

One thing you won’t do is tell Beomgyu details of your sex life with your ex. You refuse. But Beomgyu is stubborn, and he isn’t one to give up so easily. Especially if he feels like you’re withholding information from him. “Tell me.”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

He raises his eyebrows in mocking shock, “No way. He never made you cum?”

Your nostrils flair from pure embarrassment and shock. How’d he know? You quickly try to control your expressions, masking it to not give him a hint that his guess was right, but he knew you too well. You hate that. Especially now.

“Can’t believe you’re hung up on a man—fuck, baby are you close? Hung up on a man that never made you orgasm—shit,” He breathes, rubbing his clothed dick on your thigh, getting off at the sight of your face. You really are falling apart. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll take care of you.”

You tighten your hold on his hair, feeling yourself get close as you grind down on his fingers, chasing your high, choosing for your sanity to ignore all his sweet talkings.

“Gyu, gyu I-I’m gonna—No—no-why? God, fuck you, you’re such a—such a dickhead!”

Beomgyu just ruined your orgasm by completely taking out his fingers, you could practically cry out of frustration and yet he didn’t seem the least bit sorry. Instead, he makes a show of licking his fingers, the ones he just had in you, swirling his tongue and sucking them clean while making direct eye contact. You cower a little but still keep your eyes on him. Now you aren’t sure if you could stay as bitter.

You blink rapidly to collect yourself, because holy shit, you’re getting weak for…Beomgyu. “Why’d you do that? I was close Gyu.” you say exasperated.

He unbuckles his jeans, “I said I’d take care of you, just trust me.” Zipping down his pants, he’s quick to drop it down to his knees before completely abandoning them on the floor.

He flings his cock out of the restrictions of his boxers and you’re practically drooling at the pretty sight. He isn’t the biggest you’ve seen but he definitely has the girth—his tip leaking pre cum down his length, hands trying to lube it with his spit. “Beomgyu, condom.”

“I don’t have one.” He breathes, already on you as he lays wet kisses down your collarbones before he gets irritated with your shirt and takes it off, revealing your bare tits. “God, you’re so sexy.” He drawls, sucking hickeys all over your chest in hunger.

You wish you didn’t have to, but you resist his touch and in turn he lets out an annoyed whine, his voice vibrating against your exposed skin. “Beomgyu, we can’t—we need a condom.”

He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout, the cutest you’ve seen him this entire day. “I’ll pull out, I promise. Please, I need you right now.”

In that moment of weakness, his tone so needy, as if he really did need you made you feel some sort of power—like you were the hottest, sexiest woman in the world. And so you bite your tongue, and trust Beomgyu to not ruin your life. You’ve done that quite a few times.

“Swear you’ll pull out.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I do.” You say with conviction. “I do, obviously. It’s just-”

“I know. Take a breather for me. Said I’ll take care of you, didn’t I?”

You could feel him lining up to your entrance, his tip prodding your hole, and you’re already getting desperate. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” you breathe.

“Stick your tongue out.”

You do, not sure what to expect until Beomgyu spits, letting his saliva slowly fall down in your mouth. “Swallow.” he demands, his low voice making you shiver—dark eyes watching every twitch of your face intensely.

You gulp his saliva down your throat, obeying and suddenly his expression morphs into lust you’ve never been met with before. You don’t even get to process it for longer, bask in the attention you’re getting before he’s pressing your thighs to your body, pushing into you with a deep groan—filling you up to the brim, your cunt not prepared for the aching stretch. You can feel each vein against your walls, you can feel his slight twitching, you can feel everything. “Fuck, fuck you’re made for me. You’re perfect—shit, you’re perfect princess.”

“Gyu—” you cry out, gripping the sheets under you. It was too much, too much for him to already start slamming his hips. “Gyu what—” you’re cut off by your own moan the moment he hits your g-spot, your face scrunched up, hot as you let out lewd sounds with no control of your own, throat strained already. It's not a surprise he manages to find it on his first try, despite it catching you off guard with the sudden wave of pleasure.

“Should’ve fucked you sooner. Get your little pussy molded just for my dick. You would’ve liked that, right princess?” He breathes out in a long winded babble, his hips unrelenting with each thrust, already quickly building up to be in erratic speed. Through your blurry vision you could see his eyes focusing down on the jiggle of your breasts lewdly, drool trickling down the edge of his lips, the brutal slapping sounds of them from his roughness getting his head light with ecstasy. You’re more than aware of what he wanted to do when he lets your legs rest from the ache of angling them so high. Dirty pervert.

You can’t handle him playing with your tits again, you were too sensitive for anything more than you’re getting but you can’t find it in your throat to say anything before Beomgyu gives in to his lust, leaning down to attach his mouth to your sore nipple. Abusing it as he suckles harshly, muffled moans against your breasts.

His pace getting quicker, clearly getting off from sucking your nipples like a dumb baby. It was getting you embarrassingly close, your pussy clenching around his dick. “Princess. My princess is so—mmf—so perfect.”

“Stop calling me that.” You manage to squeak out. Hes been using that nickname the entire time, and though it was easy to ignore everything else, the nickname was affecting you more than you’d like to admit.

He detaches from your tits, slowing his movement, looking up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh? Princess? Why?”

“He—he used to.”

He blinks a few times before his lips draw into a sneer, clearly irritated and you’re about to backtrack, but it’s too late. Your eyes fly wide open, breath stricken when he, with no mercy, picks up his speed again, drilling his dick so far into you, you think there’s probably a bulge showing through your stomach—its when you let the tears stream down, let yourself go as he fucks you dumb with each sharp thrust serving as a punishment. But for what exactly? For mentioning your ex? Did he hate him that much?

“You can replace your memories of him with me princess. I know you can do that, I’ll make sure you do. You’re my princess, and I’m the only one who can call you that. Remember that, yea?”

You nod up and down, and he leans down to give your lips a peck, one then two then three until he loses it and it starts getting heated, tongue messily intertwining, spit exchanged in desperate action. Drilling his dick in and out your sopping pussy, squelching pornographic like sounds filling the room—you think you’re screaming at this point, mind too clouded to be fully present. You’ll definitely hear a word or two from your neighbors.

“Fuck princess, are you close?” he hisses, “I’m close too, so close. Tell me when you get there baby, okay?”

You manage to nod, pressure quickly building up

Suddenly you feel him force in a finger in your pussy, stretching you out to unimaginable degrees. “B-beomgyu—I’m cumming, I’m—” your panicked hands at the intense feeling reach out to grab at his chest, crumbling his shirt’s fabric, using the last bit of your strained voice to moan his name, your orgasm so overwhelming you genuinely start seeing white, body shaking as you try to calm yourself down. “F-fuck.” you breathe out.

The way you still clutch onto his arms pushes Beomgyu to his high too, quick to pull out of your gushing pussy before a mistake happened. It takes only two strokes before he’s spurting his seed all over your tummy, biting down a groan, obsessively taking in each inch of your body’s ruined state.

He did this. He ruined you.

The only thing filling the room being the heavy breaths of you both, Beomgyu’s hair plastered onto his forehead from sweat, yours disheveled, a complete mess. Suddenly, a notification ding goes off, and your attention’s snapped to your side. “It’s my phone.” You awkwardly point out, noticing the light before reaching your arm to get it to you.

He doesn’t move from his position, still practically hovering over you. But you try not to focus too much on it, instead taking a quick look at your notification.

Your brows twitch in surprise at seeing the message on your lock screen. Fuck, it’s your ex! Did he want you back? So miraculously? After fucking your best friend?

Without any thought, you unlock your phone, trying to skim where the ellipses left off. It was a long message and—

“We just fucked. Can’t you wait a few minutes before going on your phone— Are you texting Jaehyun?” His warm smile turning to utter rage gets you stuttering.

“No I—well—yes, but—” you fumble on your words, not knowing how to explain—not knowing why you feel like you should explain, but Beomgyu isn’t one to play around clearly, as he snatches your phone from your hand and throws it to god knows where before your body’s turned around like it was nothing to Beomgyu, like you were some ragdoll. Pushing your hips up to have your ass up in the air with your face pushed into the sheets. “B-beomgyu wha..—”

Slap. Your whole body jerks at the impact of his hand, feeling yourself get teary eyed again. “Beomgyu what the hell?” You shriek, trying to squirm from your position, your ass burning. Then you get another slap, and your legs start to shake, bottom lip wobbling at the painful feeling of his rings.

“I promised you I’d make you forget him. Clearly one fuck wasn’t enough to get your mind off that asshole.”

Your panic only lasts a millisecond at feeling his tip for a second time before you’re abusing your throat again at the oversensitivity of having Beomgyu’s dick slam into your pussy, fucking your juices back in. He’s rougher now, ten times rougher. Maybe this was what all your girlfriends were describing to you, the feeling of having Beomgyu’s dick rut into you like wild feverish dog, fucking you like all you are is a pair of limbs, just for him to hound.

You can’t think straight, not a single word coming out of your mouth is intelligible, all slurred together dumbly as he ruthlessly digs his fingers in your hips, helping you find rhythm, your body reacting on its own as it syncs with his thrusts, moving your hips enough for him to let a hand go to the back of your head, further pushing you into the mattress, drool messy staining your white sheets, loud muffled wails filling the room.

“Fuck, you like this don’t you? Getting fucked like a bitch?” your hear him growl. You don’t know what comes out of your mouth, you don’t know anything right now, because you are being fucked like a bitch while thinking like one too, your nose running with your tongue uselessly out like something out of a porno. “Should I breed you like a bitch too? Huh? Will that make your pretty little head forget?”

At that, you cum again, and he sneers, a mean laugh at noticing your orgasm, “You want me to breed you princess? Make you round with my seed?” he drawls each vowel mockingly like you were a dumb kitten and he had to explain a really simple concept—still ramming your cunt, not giving you a fair chance of responding.

That’s how it goes for you’re not sure how long, Beomgyu switching positions to have your leg draped over his shoulder as he fucks you to oblivion, making you orgasm over and over again, before you really feel like you had blacken out at some point only to find yourself waking up to him still going at it—your entire body sore, down to every inch, your nipples especially swollen from all his sucking. He never cums inside you, instead emptying his load all over your body, making you basically a show of his dried semen.

You trust him, even when his tendency to go far never died down no matter how much he got older. “You awake?”

You flutter your eyes open, a dark room, and Beomgyu. His face is abnormally close to yours. “What happened?” your voice comes out very strained, your throat hard to use. Great, you entirely lost your voice.

“Think I might’ve had my balls in…too deep.”

Even a chuckle hurts every bone in your body, holy shit, how were you going to go to work tomorrow?! “Hey, don’t move around too much, I already cleaned you up. Just try to go back to sleep.”

“I don’t feel sleepy. I can’t.”

Beomgyu suddenly giggles, you could make out the cute small thing he does with his lips when he does. “What?” you ask.

“Your voice sounds funny.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. Of course he’d find it funny. Maybe next time you should peg his ass and see how he’d like to not speak for an entire week.

You feel his all too familiar hand laying on your cheek, and you subtly gulp. You don’t know if he heard. He probably did with how close you guys are, noses practically brushing against each other, his breathing all your hearing can pick up. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”

You nod, until you realize he might not be able to see you properly. “Yes.”

“Good.”

He takes his hand off your cheek, then turns on his back, folding his arms over his chest, staring up the ceiling. So the room won’t fall into an awkward silence, you say: “I have a question.”

He shuffles a little on the bed, letting out a hum in acknowledgment. “What was the I’m perfect for you thing about? We’re definitely not like, compatible or anything.”

He laughs before he turns his head to you in disbelief. “Are you serious? Is that a serious question?”

You nod, “Do I not sound serious?”

“No, you sound like you just had the best fuck of your life.” You roll your eyes in good nature, though exasperated, you were exposed to too much of his ego in one day. If you had the strength and will to come up with something to level his ego down, you would. “It’s called dirty talk if you must know the term fair maiden.”

“God, you’re so silly, I’m going to sleep.” You withstand your pain to turn your back to him, groaning with each movement. But you can’t escape his wrath it seems, because he almost immediately snakes his arm around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, his heartbeat all you can here against your back. “Can’t I find you perfect? You know, like…my dream girl. My princess.”

You rapidly blink a few times trying to process—past the deep rasp of his tired voice that you found yourself incredibly attracted to— his words and how it brewed big unfamiliar emotions, knowing now you won’t be able to get a blink of sleep after this.

“Can I keep calling you that by the way? It really sticks.”

Oh god, the last thing you’re going to do is self sabotage yourself even more and get yourself in a stickier situation than you already put yourself in. “No, that’s definitely staying in the bedroom.”

a/n: i have no idea how this reads, its basically bare of any editing so if the flow is a little choppy i sincerely apologize, i write at the golden time of 10pm-2am 😭

#txt smut #txt hard hours #beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu smut #dom!beomgyu #txt hard thoughts

[eiightysixbaby]

sunscreen and chlorine

word count: 3.5k

pairing: lifeguard!eddie x fem!reader

summary: things get steamy during an unbearably hot day at the hawkins pool.

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI - SMUT. oral (m receiving), sexual innuendos with a popsicle, sex in a public place, unprotected p in v, creampie, billy is mentioned in this lol. lmk if i forgot any!

author’s note: lifeguard!eddie has been invading my brain for days so here, have this.

It was hot. So, so unbelievably hot. The kind of heat where you step outside and feel like you can’t breathe for a second, where the air feels thick and heavy and sweat clings to your skin relentlessly. There was no breeze, none at all, just stagnant heat lingering. Naturally, just about everyone in Hawkins was at the community pool, dying for a way to cool down. Bare feet walking on hot pavement, vibrant swimsuits almost blinding in the sun. Brightly colored beach balls being tossed around in the water as screams and splashes rang out. Eddie sat perched in his lifeguard chair, bright red swim trunks covering his bottom half, stopping a little bit above his knees. A black tank top rested on his torso, clinging tight to modest muscles. Even in the blistering summer, Eddie wasn’t one to parade around with his shirt off. Much unlike Billy, who would take any chance he could get to be wearing as little clothing as possible, showing off his biceps to the suburban mothers who’d fawn over him. Bored women who married boring men that they felt close to nothing for, all for the sake of having that nuclear family, now dying to relive their teenage years. Eddie would occasionally throw scandalous remarks their way when they’d whistle at him, but for the most part he didn’t bite.

Eddie was honest to god sweltering, to put it lightly. The shade from the umbrella attached to the chair provided little comfort for him, but at least it kept most of his skin from receiving direct sun exposure. He’d already applied sunscreen several times, rubbing the white cream all over just to sweat it off a half hour later, and then repeat the process. His pale skin was unforgiving in the summer months, quick to turn an angry red if Eddie wasn’t careful about being in the sun. There’d been one too many occasions where he’d sat perched on the kitchen counter after hot summer days, Wayne rubbing aloe on his stinging skin. Sometimes Eddie isn’t sure why he chose to have a job that required him to be exposed to the elements so often, but hey, it pays the bills.

He peered through his sunglasses at all of the patrons in the pool, wishing he could feel the cool water on himself. His hair was pulled back into a low bun, keeping the heavy curls from making his neck too warm. He kept himself occupied any way he could, blowing his whistle at kids who insisted on running around the pool grounds despite several signs warning not to, laughing to himself when they’d slow to a walk, staring up at him with guilty eyes. Sat high on his perch, his eyes scanned over the various suspects down below - teenage girls sprawled out on towels, pretending like they weren’t absolutely miserable in the sun as they tanned their skin, Jason Carver walking towards the pool with Chrissy Cunningham over his shoulders, laughing in protest about the water being too cold, Billy flirting excessively with anything with a pulse instead of watching the pool. Eddie huffed a sigh, for as busy a day as it was, there was very little for him to actually do. Not that he wanted to have to, you know, save somebody from drowning today or something, but he was just bored. Ninety-five percent of the town’s population had to be here today, and yet none of his friends were around to keep him entertained. He was hot, he was cranky, and he just wanted to go home and unwind. Needed to smoke a joint, maybe rub one out, and go the fuck to sleep.

After yelling at some teenager to stop dunking unsuspecting people under the water, he resumed his people watching. His whistle sat loosely in his mouth, Eddie absentmindedly fidgeting with the silver metal between his teeth, whispers of that shrill chirping sound fighting their way out of the object every time he’d exhale too hard. Pulling his sunglasses off and tucking them on top of his head, his brown eyes roamed over the grounds until they landed on you. He recognized you, remembers you from high school though you two were never close. A pretty thing - you always have been - sprawled across a lounge chair, one leg crossed over the other casually. Water droplets dried on your skin, and the ends of your hair were wet, indicating your recent swim. You had a popsicle pressed between your lips, sticky red juice melting down your hand, the heat affecting the sweet ice too fast for you to keep up with. He doesn’t fully realize how hard he’s been staring until your eyes catch his, and you cock an eyebrow at him. He feels his cheeks heat up, for once from something other than the sun, and is about to just scamper down from his chair and into a hole in the ground before you wave at him, fingers delicately wiggling his way.

He gives you a casual wave back, fully catching the smile that you try to cover with your hand. Your eyes are unwavering on his thin frame, taking in his pale skin that’s littered here and there with tattoos. Gaze pausing on the soft muscles in his arms, trailing down to the fabric of his swim trunks, bunched up just below the waistband, concealing the rest of him that you’d very much like to see. You notice that he doesn’t stop looking at you, either. Eddie shamelessly lets his eyes rake up your legs, the vibrant pink of your bathing suit complimenting the rest of you. He swears his heart almost stops when he meets your eyes again, noticing the sultry look in them as you slowly push your popsicle past your lips once more. It almost completely disappears in your mouth before you pull it out, excruciatingly slowly. You lick it from bottom to top, tongue flat against the strawberry flavored treat, eyes never leaving Eddie’s.

He feels his cock twitch slightly in his swim trunks, suddenly finding it incredibly hard to focus on doing his job. You knew what you were doing, and you weren’t about to back down from what Eddie could tell. The dense heat was getting to his head, his brain turning to mush as he watched you. Juice from the popsicle slowly trickled down your chin until you wiped it with your fingers, proceeding to stick the index and middle in your mouth, sucking the sweet syrup off. Eddie shifts in his seat, subtly adjusting the fabric of his swim trunks, trying to conceal the bulge growing beneath them. You notice the awkward movement, lips twisting into a smirk as your mouth resumes its work on your popsicle. By the time you’ve consumed the entirety of the cold treat, pulling the last bit off the stick with your teeth and letting it melt in your mouth, Eddie is uncomfortably hard. He’s pulled the bright red rescue tube that was once secured at the side of the lifeguard chair over his lap, which wouldn’t seem like a calculated maneuver to anyone except you. You know the effect you’ve had on him, and he knows you’re enjoying it. Now that you’re done putting on a little show for him, he’s not sure what to do next. Was that it? Seductively eat your popsicle for him and it’s over, resume his shift as normal? He couldn’t exactly shout across the way at you to ask for your number - or at least, he didn’t want to make an absolute buffoon of himself trying.

He didn’t have to deliberate for long before he caught you jerking your head to the side, eyes following in the direction of the changing rooms and showers. You stood slowly from your chair, making sure he got the hint, before walking towards the big blue door to the women’s changing rooms. He couldn’t help but admire the way your ass looked as you walked away from where he was perched, soft flesh peeking out around the fabric of your bathing suit bottoms. Eddie was fully aware of the fact that fooling around with you at his place of employment in the middle of his shift was probably not a wise idea, but fuck it. He couldn’t hold off any longer. Gangly legs climbed down the steps of the lifeguard post until his feet hit the pavement below, almost immediately protesting at the heat coming from the concrete. He walked quickly in the direction you had led him, pulling his shirt over his head and bunching it in front of him to conceal the horrendously obvious tent in his pants. He approached Billy who gave him a questioning look.

“Cover for me for a few, man,” Eddie said quietly, for only Billy to hear, shoving the rescue tube at the shorter man for him to take.

“What?” Billy asked, stumbling back ever so slightly as Eddie presses the red safety equipment into his chest.

“Just fucking cover for me,” his voice was firm, and he walked away before Billy could say another word. The other man huffed an annoyed sigh as he headed for the lifeguard chair.

Eddie stepped cautiously into the changing rooms, not wanting to startle any unsuspecting pool patrons, but was pleasantly surprised when the only person he found inside was you. You leaned against a wall nonchalantly, twisting a lock of your hair around your fingers, smiling warmly at him.

“Hey, handsome. Decided to join me?” your voice is playful as you eye him up and down.

“That little show you put on sure was something, sweetheart,” Eddie says lowly, stalking slowly towards you.

“Just wanted to get you all worked up for the real deal,” you smirk at him, and he swallows a lump in his throat.

“Give me one sec,” he says quickly, turning on his heel.

Eddie heads back towards the door, grabbing the maintenance sign that sits in the corner. It reads, ‘Sorry! Temporarily closed for cleaning. We apologize for the inconvenience. -Hawkins Community Pool Staff’. He posts it on the outside of the door, letting the heavy metal swing closed behind him. Best to cover all of his bases here, he certainly doesn’t want any kids getting scarred for life today.

“We don’t exactly want an audience, now do we?” he asks as he walks slowly back towards you.

“No, no I guess not,” you reply, index finger bent with the nail between your teeth, a nervous habit shining through your casual demeanor.

Eddie stands mere inches away from you, breath fanning your face every time he exhales. He finds it hard to contain himself, wants nothing more than to have his hands on you. He steps even closer, looking down at you, loose strands of hair falling from his bun. He discarded the shirt he’d been holding onto the floor, and you find your eyes trailing down to his crotch, the slight bulge beneath the brightly colored fabric looking ever so appealing. His big brown eyes watch you intently, searching for any signs of your discomfort.

“You sure you want this?” he asks, voice steady.

“Yeah, ‘m sure. I’ve secretly been wanting you since we were fucking eighteen, so,” you laugh lightly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Shit, you could’ve been teasing me with popsicles this whole time?” Eddie jokes, reaching his hands out and letting them gently rest on your hips.

You’re quiet, just admiring the soft freckles on his face and the warm brown of his eyes and those full pink lips. Eddie notices the way your eyes linger on his mouth, and his lips curl into a wicked grin.

“What’re you looking at me like that for, honey? Need something?” Eddie asks, teasing, his face so deliciously close to yours.

“Think I’m in serious need of mouth to mouth…” you say, trying to tease him back but your voice is breathy.

In an instant he’s swept you into a kiss. He groans softly as your hands climb up the back of his neck, tugging on his hair where it meets his scalp. His head is swirling, still fuzzy from the early July heat and now from the feel of your soft lips on his. You smell like sunscreen and chlorine, taste like artificial strawberry flavoring. Your lips are passionate yet gentle in their movements against his, and he wants to melt onto the floor for someone to mop up later. The kiss deepens rapidly before Eddie finally has to break away, the temperature in the large room growing to be unbearable. You read his mind before he can even say anything, and pull him into a shower stall, turning the water on to a comfortably cool temperature. You close the curtain behind you, and when you turn back to face him you drop to your knees, hands grabbing at the soft fabric of his swim shorts.

Eddie feels like he’s floating, like the scorching day got to his head and he’s having some weird fever dream hallucination. The feeling of your fingers ghosting over his happy trail and hooking under the waistband of his shorts brings him back down to earth. He sucks in a sharp breath as you tug the swim trunks down, his cock springing free a couple inches from your face. You’re mesmerized at the sight in front of you. He was big, longer than most you’ve seen but less thick. His cock seemed to stare you directly in the face, flushed pink tip leaking pre cum. A small patch of dark curls rested at the base, and his heavy balls hung low beneath. You lick your lips, cool water from the shower falling in small streams over his shoulders and down his chest. The smooth tile floor is hard against your knees, you’re sure they’ll be bruised and sore tomorrow. You grab the base of him, tapping the tip of his cock on your tongue a few times, looking up at him with wide doe eyes. Eddie hisses, grabbing fistfuls of your hair with his hands.

“Don’t be a tease, honey,” he growls down at you, and you look at him innocently.

“Me? Never,” you reply, taking the head of his cock in your mouth in one swift movement.

He inhales abruptly, then lets out a sigh as you slowly bob your head on his cock, adjusting to the warm feeling of your mouth. You take him as deep as you can, his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. Eddie groans in response to this, pulling tighter on your hair, silently begging for you to do it again. You oblige, letting the head of his cock abuse your throat, mouth wide open for him.

“Fuck, baby, feels so fucking good,” Eddie’s voice is deeper than before, his eyes dark as they watch your movements.

You lean down further, sucking his balls into your mouth, letting your tongue roll over the stretchy skin. He genuinely yelps, surprised at the contact, eyes squeezed shut. You smile to yourself before sucking them into your mouth once again, Eddie’s whines and whimpers echoing throughout the walls of the building. You bring a hand up to toy with his balls as you redirect your mouth’s attention to the swollen tip of his cock, practically pleading for you to take it past your lips. Eddie’s in shambles as you lick and suck his sensitive head, cleaning the salty pre cum off with your tongue. You take him fully into your mouth again without warning, eliciting moans and curses as he steadies himself with one hand on the shower wall. The contrast between the cold water hitting his back and the sticky humid air tickling the skin of his chest made his head spin, the warmth of your mouth engulfing him only adding to the varying sensations. He feels himself inching closer and closer towards release, and he abruptly grabs your chin and pulls you gently off of him.

“Can I fuck you, baby? Need to be inside that pussy,” he’s trying to maintain his composure but the words come out like a whine, like he’s desperate for you.

You nod as you look up at him, admiring the water droplets that fall from his bangs and the tip of his nose, pussy throbbing between your thighs as his cock rests inches from your face.

“Use your words, pretty thing. Tell me I can fuck you,” Eddie coaxes you, pulling you to stand in front of him

“Yes, Eddie, please. Want you to fuck me,” your eyes are pleading and it makes his cock twitch.

He wraps his arms around to your backside, signaling for you to jump. He holds you securely, back now pressed against one of the shower walls, your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips are on yours instantly, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth with fervor as you whimper for him. His mouth travels down, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Hot tongue licking your sticky skin, the faint taste of sweat lingering. He pushes the wet fabric of your swimsuit bottoms to the side, lining himself up with your entrance. He kisses you deeply as you feel him slide into you, stretching you open just for him, velvety walls snug around his cock. He groans into your mouth, pushing himself slowly in to the hilt, and your nails claw at his back in desperation. The stretch is so good your toes curl, your body begging and screaming for more.

“P-please, Eddie, oh my god,” you whine, Eddie’s lips now attacking your neck.

“What, honey? What do you need?” Eddie purrs, big hands squeezing the soft flesh of your ass.

“Need you to move, fuck me rough Eddie, please,” you beg him, clinging to him like a vice.

He gets his bearings on the slippery floor before rutting up into you, slick sounds of wet skin on wet skin bouncing around the shower stall. Eddie gasps as his cock fills you once more, every thrust reaching so deep, his thick fingers pressing into your smooth skin as he supports your weight. You can hear faint screams and laughter from the pool outside, and the reminder of the way no one on the outside knows what Eddie’s doing to you in here makes you dizzy with desire. Eddie’s grunting with every snap of his hips, hair frizzy and bangs sticking to his forehead, a panting mess as he fucks you like his life depends on it. You’re sure your lower back will be sore after this, every jolt to your body ramming you against the wall, but you’re too drunk on Eddie to care. The way your legs are wrapped around him opens you up for his cock to hit the perfect spot inside of you, and you’re screaming his name as he pounds relentlessly into your sopping cunt.

“Yeah? Feels good, baby? You like having my cock deep inside you?” Eddie rasps into your ear, hips moving at an unforgiving pace.

The friction against your clit as his body moves against yours paired with the way his cock hits your favorite spot inside of you has you approaching your release rapidly, your body aching to let go. Eddie’s close, too, moaning out strings of curse words and praise as your walls suck him in.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey, where do you want it?” he asks breathlessly, brown eyes blown wide as they search your face.

“Inside, need it inside,” you choke the words out, so blissed out it’s hard to speak.

Eddie picks up his pace, hips stuttering as he lets himself go. You feel his cock twitch, warmth spreading inside you as he pumps you full of his cum. Your orgasm hits you the second you feel him fill you, clenching around his already spent cock, milking him for everything he’s got. Eddie presses his forehead to yours, releasing the harsh grip on your hips as he gently sets you down. Your legs tremble, cum leaking out of you and dripping down the insides of your thighs. You rinse them off with the water from the shower head, before turning it off.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Eddie pants, pulling his swim trunks up before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“When do you get off work? Maybe you could come over after,” your voice is shy as you suggest it.

“I’m the closing guard tonight, actually. Sooo… I could totally get fired for this, but if you wanted to come back here around 8pm after lock up, I could give you some, y’know, private swimming lessons,” he smirks, cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

“Count me in, baby. I think I’m gonna be needing lessons weekly, though…” you trail off, heavy lidded eyes looking at him as you twirl his hair around your fingers.

“I can work with that,” Eddie grins, pulling you into a kiss.

As the heat of the day eventually fades into a hazy nightfall, Hawkins residents slowly filing out of the pool and returning home, Eddie thinks of nothing but you. Billy almost slugged him for leaving him in charge for so long, but in Eddie’s book it was worth it. Sure enough, at 8pm on the dot, you saunter towards the gate to the pool. In your left hand was another popsicle.

Eddie was sure you’d be the death of him tonight.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #lifeguard!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic

[lovesickry]

- wish you would.

┈⋆⭒ lando norris x fem!reader [8k] ┈⋆⭒ masterlist! ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contains: 18+, pwp, smut, angst, dickhead lando, dickhead reader, swearing, alcohol consumption, general stupidness. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: this has been brewing for the longest time in the depths of my brain istg, its a long one.

your relationship with lando recently, had more or less been……tainted. by some imaginary force, but some force nonetheless. 

-

you’d fallen out of touch simply and quickly but you missed him, as any “friend” would do. moping about in the house you shared with max and him, it wanst fucking fair, he didnt get to do this to you. It had been four weeks since you last heard from him, max was god knows where, off with Lando and here you sat.

it was just fucking miserable. Four weeks ago you were in fucking ibiza and now your bestfriend hated you, so your life definitely wasn’t going as you thought it would have.

Didnt help that on the last time you saw him you may or may not have fucked in a bathroom stall and then just pretended nothing happened the rest of your trip. Though when the season started again he didn’t respond to a single one of your texts, or quite literally communicate with you in any way whatsoever.

//// communication over the past few weeks:

4 weeks ago:

hey lando was the the flight back alright?

lando?

3 weeks ago:

are you alive?

max told me you're alive so what is it then?

2 weeks ago

oh come on lando

LANDO?

you can't just ignore me and fucking see max every weekend are you joking?

A week ago:

can you just talk to me?

you were practically furious, after the confusion went away, after the tears went away you were just furious. with him, how he treated you.

-

Originally you had tried to brush it off, that it was just him coming to terms with his breakup with luisa and you being (so you thought) the first person he had been with since, but the breakup was 4 months prior to Ibiza and you couldn't dismiss it as a simple "fuck". Not with all your history.

The worst part though, you remembered every little detail.....every time his skin touched yours, every single thing he whispered in your ear, each time he did something that made your stomach tighten or the hairs on your neck stand up. It would've been easier if you hadn't thought about that night, but that would be a lie. It sat there in the corners of your mind every waking moment and you couldnt shake it and now he wouldnt even fucking talk to you. Asshole. You'd be seeing Lando in a week nonetheless, he couldn't exactly avoid you considering you lived in the same house and he would be in the country. Though you couldn't count on it, considering the lengths he's went to so far.

-

///// FOUR WEEKS AGO- {Ibiza. Following the Spanish Grand Prix.}

his laughs were muffled as his mouth hits yours, his hands guiding you against the furthest wall of the bathroom. the music was loud and you could still hear it through the concrete walls of the bathroom.

it was lit by purple light and as you pulled back, now flush against lando and opened your eyes you swore lando looked less like a man and more like something else entirely. his hands were on your hips far too fast for somebody who hasn’t thought about this before, wanting to kiss every inch of your neck as your hands grabbed and tugged lightly at his curls. every noise he made was heaven, every touch a gift.

-

“I want to be inside you”

You could've sworn that comment made you blush, or atleast freeze up a little. Your stomach coiling and heating as he met your gaze. Fucking hell. His lips were puffy, his hair a mess. 

He had never looked better a day in his life, you were frantic the way you kneeled in front of him to undo his belt and then his trousers. 

“Fuck look at you”

“Oh my god”

If you weren't wet you sure were now, Lando had one of those mouths that was rarely closed and in this case you were glad for it. He wasn't afraid to make noises with you either, each rhythmic sound leaving his mouth dug the hole deeper and deeper.

By the time Lando was stripped to his boxers and you to your bra and panties he was desperate, making it known just how much he wanted, needed you. his hands were having trouble staying still and yours were roaming all across his stomach while he repeated your name in you ear, like a mantra.

He was searing hot, the muscle on his stomach was flushed and you could feel him grimacing in your neck the longer your hands lingered on a particular place. The minute your hands drifted down to where you needed him most he made a kind of pleased breathy nose, squeezing at the skin of your waist. 

“You’re so fucking hot” you say to him, figuring its about time he knows the effect he has on you as well. Hands drifting lower, under the band of his boxers, hes painfully hard, tip sensitive and pink as you pull his boxers down. He drawls out a long fuck, before pulling you in for one more kiss and then pushing you impossibly closer to the wall.

“Tell me if it hurts okay”

What you would've thought as cocky coming out of anyone's mouth, was sincere coming out of Lando’s, he was……significantly big. As he finally pushed into you, holding the back of your head as to not let it hit the wall he whispered sweet filth into your ear.

“Good girl”

“You can take it”

“So good”

“fuck”

It was all too much, as he bottomed out finally you already felt close and as he moved. Oh god it was already perfect, the buildup and finally this. His body moved rhythmically, controlled and delicious. His hands were mainly used to hold you in place, while yours found the places he liked to be touched most and paid attention to those, relishing in the tiny noises he made in response to you. You could tell Lando was getting close when his thrusts started getting sloppier, less regular, more effort, at that point you brought a hand to your clit, rubbing small circles, trying to read when he was cumming so you could cum too.

“I'm getting close” he choked out, god his words alone coiled your stomach further.

“I’ll come when you do” you say, nodding at him. 

“Fuck-yes” another breathy line of speech, followed by sloppy, messy thrusts and some audible groans. 

Finally you feel him, pulsing inside of you and you know hes just there, just about there. 

“Im-” he goes to say, but you already know.

“Yeah. fuck. Please” your desperate now.

You come with your eyes closed, legs shaking and the feeling of warmth filling your stomach as Lando pulls out and youre met with the blurred sight of a supremely dishevelled Lando whos basically holding you upright and grinning at you so fucking hard youre sure his cheeks would hurt. You lean slightly forward, resting your forward on his shoulder, still breathing hard, heart beating much too fast than normal.

“Why didn't we do that any fucking sooner?” he says, his body shaking slightly, from ecstasy but also from the laugh that rocks his body.You can't help but grin at the comment, feeling the effect of post-orgasm and also from the alcohol earlier. Getting your clothes on is a clumsy, messy endeavour and you both look entirely suspicious when you exit the large bathroom still in fits of giggles. 

-

///// NOW- London. Week of the Silverstone Grand Prix

you recalled the moment with complete contentment, there wasn't a moment you could pinpoint that could warrant this reaction from him. sure he could be feeling a bit confused but seriously?

the text from max announcing that they were on their way was a kind gesture but fundamentally futile. as much as you could avoid Lando you would have to talk to him at one point of another, living arrangements in mind.

The ten minutes awaiting their arrival were ones of complete disdain and anxiousness. Followed by deciding you would go out for a walk to miss them entering the house, leaving just as you heard the front door opening, texting max you were out for a walk. You hoped that by walking at least around the block, maybe you'd clear your mind slightly, being out in nature and all. You walked for about an hour, until the sun started to go down and you figured you should probably go home. The walk had helped slightly, Lando was now only a part of much bigger problems you'd formed in your head. Entering the front door and immediately hearing Lando’s laugh instilled something within you. You were never quiet but in this moment you were, Lando spotted you as he waved to Max in the kitchen and immediately walked towards you. Pulling you into a surprising hug, even Max was shocked, knowing of the circumstances over the last few weeks. Your hands stayed at your sides while he hugged you, not wanting to reciprocate something that was not genuine. After pulling away he went back to wherever he was and Max simply raised his eyebrows at you before shrugging his shoulders. You ate dinner in your room and didn't hear from him all night.

The morning was strange? Lando was almost normal? Like nothing had happened the past weeks, like he had fucking ignored you. You couldn't tell if it was encouraging or unsettling. He sat next to you and asked you about what you’d been up to and genuinely seemed interested. The ignored messages nagged at the back of your mind, bring it up, bring it up. You never did, Max watched on in quiet surprise as the conversation flowed. Not once was the communication, or lack thereof over the past few weeks mentioned. Undeniably odd. The only normal thing that occurred all day was the momentous decision of which Lando decided to pull you away for a chat, you could finally hash it out.

“Sorry i just wanted to say”

He cleared his throat. 

“About IBiza”

“Lando-” you go to say, wanting to apologise for gods know what as if you both weren't complicit in your actions and happily so.

“No, I never should’ve crossed the line, fucked with what we have, I'm sorry i ignored you. That was shitty, but I just felt so fucking awful I couldn't shake it. Im sorry”

Your stunned silent, hoping your emotions aren't displayed as clear as you feel them on your face. so the way he was articulating now was that he didnt like you like the way you wish he would?

“Oh” it's a small response in comparison to the quite large statement he just made. You reflect on his words “fucked with what we have”, of course he just wanted to be friends.

You snap out of it, conjuring up a much more deserving response for him.

“Of course. No its okay Lan, thanks for saying something. I always like to know your heart is still beating though”

He lets slip a grin.

“You wish it wasn't sometimes”

“Maybe”

“Yeah piss off”

Just like that it was back to normal, you spent the rest of the day hanging out with Max and Lando watching shit movies and listening to Lando’s many racing stories. The London Grand Prix was this week and talk about it was already riling you up, knowing you were getting a paddock pass with Lando practically made you giddy. You'd always been into the sport having had done karting briefly in your youth but then your parents moved to London and you never really got quite back into it. Thus, there was only so many quips you could make on top of Lando’s stories. The day grew old and soon you were all gathered in your kitchen screaming at each other as Max fought with you over the wooden spoon. 

“This is why I cook and you set the table” you said, tugging the spoon towards you. 

“I don't wanna set the table”

You laughed at this, Lando too. His tone of voice was childish, mocking almost. You yield and let him stir the sauce as you set the table.

-

You ate mostly in comfortable silence or small talk, everyone was obviously hungry. After dinner you agree on accompanying Lando to the track the next day. Something that you were undeniably and overwhelmingly excited for, having not gone to a race for a few months and being interested in the sport.

He streamed that night and you would've been annoyed going to bed listening to him chatter on and on had it not been him. But it was him and you loved that he made noise, the reassurance that he was here and not miles away.

The birds seemed to puncture the bubble that encased you in sleep as you groggily rose and opened the blinds, revealing the already blinding summer sun.

Treading from your room to the kitchen to boil the kettle was a silent and pivotal start to your morning, though your morning routine was upheaved by the sight of Lando standing bare, all except his boxer shorts in the kitchen. Leant against the counter tops you could see his bronze chest and the taut muscle that you once so diligently set your fingers upon. The silence of you standing and taking in the sight was interrupted by the sound of the kettle whistle, his body jolted to life, halting the sculpted like state he seemed to be in with your observation.

He ran a hand through his hair, now noticeably ruffled as he reached for a mug from the cupboard. Jutting out another expanse of muscle that you were unprepared for. You realised that you were ogling him quite openly and set forward your feet, your steps were slightly muted by your slippers and you were grateful for the noise to be muffled as you slid in next to him, retrieving your own mug and tea bag from the cupboard. He seemed unphased by your presence, simply nodding at you before looking back at his phone. You were closer to him now and you can see just about every inch of vein and taut skin while you pour the water over the tea-bag, god he's fucking distracting. Lando is jutting his hips out, legs away from the bench as he leans against it. sipping your tea is less relaxing than one might think as you find your eyes darting to any bare skin of Lando's that floods your peripheral vision.

you stood in the kitchen together in comfortable silence for roughly however long it took you to check the notifications that you had received the night before, just as you were conveniently interrupted, lifting your head to listen.

"you excited about today?" he says, smug about his physical state as you nearly struggle for words.

you swallow and form words as fast as you can, lest to make a fool of yourself this early in the morning.

"you're the one racing, are you excited?" its probably a more relevant question, considering.

He scoffs at your question before answering. “well your home grand prix is always mega” He pauses and glances up at you likes hes thinking if what he is about to say is right or not. (he continues) “and you know having you guys at the race is always funner”

you would've been delighted at that fact he had just stated, but he had snuck in you....guys. not just you, not you independently, but you AND max. god you needed to get it out of your head that Lando had any semblance of a romantic feeling for you since Ibiza because clearly the man was as platonic as you could be. you tried as best you could to hide any kind of disappointment which tried to fight its way onto your face.

"More fun?" mocking his english.

It's nowhere near what you yearned to say, but it would do momentarily and he smiled at that, moving closing to you. his warmth radiating, almost uncomfortably in the motionless air that surrounded the kitchen. 

"Did I tell you that Oscar nearly beat me at karting the other day?"

You grin at this, it's the lightness to the conversation that you had been anticipating, wanting nothing more than to get rid of this bright, blaring tension.

“Please do go on.”

You sip your tea as you listen to him recount his story of Oscar beating him in his very own karts, you make effort not to spit out the hot water when Lando says something particular funny and slap him on the shoulder. While he continues on, another random tangent coming to mind you get some things out to make breakfast, might as well get on with the day. Considering you all have to leave here in around 3 hours. 

Lando leaves midway to “put some clothes on” and you fight your muscles urging yourself to turn around and glance one final time at his bronzed skin. He returns clothed and with Max and you present them with your accumulated breakfast, you eat in rather rowdy conversation, Lando opening a whole can of worms he was not prepared for. then you each go get ready respectively to go to track.

-

You arrive at track around 11am and Lando punctually leaves your side, excusing himself to go to the media pen. you seperate yourself from Max and Pietra. Not wanting to third wheel, though also not minding the time alone to simply walk around, you even knew some of the drivers now so it wasn't like you'd have nobody, hopefully? the atmosphere was always alight in the paddock, though you’d developed a habit of pretending to be more important than you were, thus to avoid being approached by much older, much richer men who said they could “look after you”. you run into daniel and you couldn’t be happier, greeting him with a hug. he had been happier since he had re-joined redbull and you’d been overjoyed for him, you’d noticed when he was at mclaren the sheer mental effort it took him not to breakdown sometimes and you’d try as hard as you could being who you were (landos friend) to try and console him. you’d formed a kind of friendship that depended on if lando was with luisa and you’d kind of just hang around with him. he was what everyone said he was; relentlessly kind, endlessy funny and much too charming.

you weren’t ashamed to admit you’d gotten with him a few too many times when he was broken up with his girlfriend, though when you told Lando he was less than impressed, feigning the wounded best friend card for the best of a month, before finally getting over it. but it had never gone further than sex, there was something between you two, something unnameable but tangible that said it when you didn't need to. you were close friends besides that and he was always fun to talk to, you'd missed him around.

"whatcha doing here?"

"just supporting the muppet" (lando) whom he knew and nodded fervently at the reference.

"ohhhhhh"

"haven't seen you in a while, how are ya?"

"pretty good, lando and me just had a falling out but everything's fine now I think"

"shit. what about?"

you pause.

"you don't have to tell me, sorry"

"no no its all good, just-hold on"

you lead him into a semi private corner of the red bull area.

"we kinda had sex"

his face dropped, eyes wide, mouth slack, like a fucking cartoon.

"FINALLY" he says, much too loud and you go to cover his mouth with your hand.

"SHUSH"

"ok sorry" he whispers

"but go on, tell me all the juicy details"

"youre disgusting" you scoff.

he waits for you to continue... and you do.

"okay fine, do you remember Ibiza?"

"yes..." he's smirking now, swaying side to side.

"well we fucked in the bathroom and then he ignored me for four weeks and then he kinda apologised and said that he"

you put your fingers up, making air quotes with your fingers.

"never should've fucked with what we have"

you let that sink in for a second, Daniel clearing processing your words, fair enough.

"fuck that" he says finally, exhaling deeply.

you let out a small laugh and lean against the wall opposite to him.

"literally look" you bring your phone from your pocket, scrolling through and revealing the countless messages that were left unanswered.

"then he just shows up and pretends nothing happens. and okay, im glad he said something, after all that, but it wouldn't have killed him to fucking respond"

"lando is stupid sometimes, as someone on the receiving end. he either gets over it or.... he just fucking comes to his senses" he makes a kind of flowing hand gesture and then continues.

"so he'll either confess his love for you in prince-like fashion or ignore you for the rest of your life"

"great."

"I'm filled with wisdom I know"

"okay but seriously I think I have to go, but just wait for lando to crack or something.

he pauses and tilts his head slightly quirking a brow.

or.. better- juust make him crack."

he's out of the red bull garage, in the middle of the paddock when you grab his arm, he turns to face you.

"okay don't be all cryptic wise one,"make him crack", come on?"

"make him crack"

"what?" exasperation is the best word to use to describe your emotions right now.

"make.him.crack"

god hes so dramatic, his face inching closer.

you roll your eyes.

"how?"

just then, you feel the air move around you as a body walks past. you look up and see the fading papaya of Lando. Though he doesn't aknowledge you, your head is now fully turned staring at the back of Lando. Danny turns to join you and slaps you on the back, you jolt forward.

"think you just did" he walks off, though not before turning once more back to you.

"GOOD LUCK!"

oh christ, you angle your head down, walking wordlessly in the direction to McLaren hospitality to hopefully either see Lando and unpack whatever it was you thought you saw plastered on his face or perhaps see Max and have a pleasant conversation that didn't involve Lando Norris.

you make your way to McLaren hospitality, only stopping to talk to Lily who was just fresh out of a golf tournament, you always looked on in awe as she spoke about it. you quickly found Max and Pietra, mingling and sipping on champagne that you did not want to see the price of. looking over the track you ask the only question you can think of.

"have you seen lando?"

"nah, he came in and then kinda disappeared" max replies.

"maybe his driver's room?" pietra offers.

better than nothing.

would you even be allowed back there?

you somehow weasel your way into the McLaren garage, being asked on numerous occasions what you were doing and who you were simply to respond with; oh, uh, um, I'm Landos friend. you were hopeless but somehow they believed you and you were given one last interrogation by his physio before he recognised you and let you past, finally reaching his door. if he wasn't here, you might just take a nap in his room anyway, deserving resulting of the effort it took to get yourself here. you raise your hand to knock and almost stop yourself but let your fist hit the door. he's flushed when he answers the doors, you can see a slight sheen to his face as you walk in, he stands to the side wordlessly as you pass him.

“pietra and max are so happy it makes me wanna throw up”

trying to hopefully prove daniel wrong and also cut the undeniable tension that seemed to encase both of you. lando let’s out a small laugh at your comment. going to sit down, you follow him across the room.

“I forgot how hot it is” he throws his hands up frantically and flops on the couch.

you open your mouth to respond but nothing seems to flow out. you follow him simply across the room, sitting across from him and meeting the top of his head as he looks down at his feet.

"you okay?" his head jolts up and he shakes it like he wasn't fully listening.

"oh huh... yeah sorry, no im good. you?"

"really you just seem distracted, sorry im not trying to pry I just-" he cuts you off

"maybe you're just distracting me" he's smirking while he says it and you can tell hes joking even if you wish he wasn't.

"oh haha" you say, deadpan, aware of the fact that he could be entirely mocking you.

he laughs again, genuinely this time and you smile at the sound.

"what do you even do in here"

"nothing"

"really?"

"its my favourite thing to do"

"I thought it was sleeping"

"you're so funny"

"I know, I don't get it from you though"

"oh really? who'd you get it from?"

"your old teammate" you joke, though he seems to not be in the mood.

he scoffs but doesnt laugh and his face returns to a formal neutrality.

"oh come on" you say jokingly

"what?" he says fast

you look at him quizzically and he continues, seeming to gather a question from your expression.

"just stop being obsessed with Daniel its gross"

its your turn to get fed up, the audacious nature of his comment making you sick.

"what?"

"he has a girlfriend you can't be fucking flirting with him"

there was a burning anger coming up your throat.

"I wasn't flirting lando, why do you always want to fight"

"I've seen you flirt and you were fucking begging him"

"you're such a fucking hypocrite lando"

"wanna be more specific?"

"ibiza?"

"what about it" his jaw is clenched now and hes stood up, as are you.

"the fact that you were the dragging me into the bathroom and then the one ignoring me for four fucking weeks maybe?"

"you enjoyed it just as much as I did. don't do that"

"yeah I did fucking enjoy it. I enjoyed it enough to not fucking ignore you"

"I didn't fucking ignore you, I just had to sort some things out"

"like what? how many girls you'd bring home with max after the race that I wasn't invited to maybe?"

it was cruel, but he deserved it. it had been brewing for so long, the anxiety you held towards him based solely on the fact that he could've been with somebody after you simply to rid him of you. while you couldn't fathom getting with anybody else, lest the memory of his skin on yours fade anymore.

"oh fuck off don't pretend that you didn't literally fuck daniel for months when he was my teammate"

"AND.. SO WHAT? I told you that, don't rub that in my face."

"SO WHAT? you were fucking my teammate and I pretended that I didn't care"

"you told me you didn't care. you had luisa and I was sick of standing there like I didn't care "

"so you fucked Daniel cause I was with luisa?"

"you're so infuriating"

"why did you fuck him?"

"BECAUSE LANDO"

"BECAUSE WHAT?"

you were standing uncomfortably close now, your fists balling up your skirt as he restlessly tapped his thigh, rhythmically and fast. there was no coherent response you'd figured would be appropriate to reply with, so you didn't.

lando moves closer to you, looking down at you slightly.

"Why Daniel?" his eyes are firm and he places his left hand loosely on your waist.

you finally look up from the ground and notice his pinky just grazing the patch of skin you have uncovered between the shirt and your skirt.

"why?"

its still anger that fuels you when you respond.

"because" your teeth clenching doesn't let you answer, you swallow, take a deep breath and begin again trying to settle slightly.

"because at least to Danny I was his first choice, not his third."

"did Danny say that?"

"say what?"

"that you were his first choice"

"I fucking hate you sometimes"

"you were my fucking first choice, until you went and had sex with my teammate"

"so you can fuck whoever you want and I can fuck.... nobody?"

he scoffs again, hand tightening slightly on your waist.

"fuck anyone but him."

"anyone?"

"anyone"

"so I can fuck Oscar then"

his face resets, eyes hardening again.

"or George maybe, or Carlos."

"don't"

"yeah. don't what lando?"

"don't mock me"

"this is fucking useless"

you go to walk away, though both his hands were suddenly on your waist. his heads tilts as you resettle into the stance you only briefly left.

"you're so fucking infuriating" you say, the most honest thing you'd said since stepping foot in his room

there were no words for what seemed to follow. your eyes met his and there was something that resembled anguish in his and you couldn't see yours but you wanted his hands to stay on you forever. your mind flicked back to ibiza and there was a increasing space in your mind where you wished that lando would close the space between you and just fucking kiss you.

-

there was a knock at the door and lando broke immediate eye contact. walking away from you, your head drifts downwards as anger fills you. anger directed towards yourself for wishing he'd touch you and anger directed at him for behaving like he did. he left swiftly as the person at the door mentioned media and you left the paddock soon after, returning to the quiet house as max and pieta were planning to go out afterwards.

you arrive home in the same flurry of frustration that you left the paddock in, going straight to your room and trying to you guess "sleep it off". after lying horizontal for what felt like hours, you realised it wasn't going to cut it. the frustration which you wished had channeled into sleep and not the constant resurfacing of lando's voice, his hair, his hands, his cock that night in Ibiza. you venture into the kitchen and shamelessly take three shots before walking back and lying down, hoping the alcohol would go straight to your head sending you to sleep. you wished that you had fallen asleep instead of trailing your hand down into your already embarrassingly soaking, aching cunt. though, by your 2nd orgasm the frustration was long gone and all that remained was the five senses and the bed beneath you, blurred by the alcohol and the ecstasy of your second orgasm . just as your breath got shallower and you reached for your second hand to bite down on, your phone, which had sat idly by for most of this endeavour decides to start ringing annoyingly loud. never one for your ringer on its confusing why of all moments its this. begrudgingly, you turn over, expecting your boss or even your mother, definitely not lando.

"what?" you're blunt and you're trying hard to conceal your shallow breaths lest you have to concoct an excuse..

"are you home?" hes equally as unemotional but sounds slightly more desperate.

"yeah" you say, keeping it short as you're still exhausted and slightly glazed with a sheen of sweat.

"why are you so puffed?"

the dreaded question.

"went for a run" the heavily debated answer.

"come open the door"

fuck.

you jolted upright out of bed, throwing on a pair of clothes that could be deemed activewear and running past the bathroom to fix your hair and cover yourself in a scent that wasn't sweat mixed with sex. you swing open the door and try to appear once again, out of breath though from something completely fake. you'd even thrown on a pair of running shoes to really sell it, in the off chance that he'd sniff out the lie that you feared and then convince himself he won. his face is blank as you open the door to reveal him still clad in his McLaren kit from today. he looks at you suspiciously up and down before entering wordlessly.

“did i have that much of an effect on you, that you had to get yourself off?”

"I went for a run"

"sure you did"

your eyes widen as he makes the connection, unsure of how he seemed to know, though nonetheless being fueled with anger of his sheer audacity and vulgarity at just about everything. knowing exactly what would tick him off in this moment you did just that.

“maybe it was danny”

“liar” he mutters under his breath

you walk back to your bedroom where you promptly close the door, he follows you most of the way thoigh doesn’t knock on your door, simply passes by. you get out of your clothes and throw on a big t shirt before throwing something on the tv and trying not to get yourself off for the third time today, hating your body because no matter the anger there was still a tangible heat in your core that nagged at you to be fixed.

you must of dozed off because when you woke up your stomach was rumbling and you couldn't for the life of you remember any of the past plot that had led up to the current point that was being shown and your stomach was now aching to be fed. you check the clock which reads 9:46pm and you smile to yourself for being so responsible as you tread out to the kitchen to eat frankly whatever is available. lando appears to be still in his room which lets you breath a little easier as you make some toast for yourself. you hear landos door creak and crane your neck around to see if he exits or not, you spy the quick movement that he makes from his room to the bathroom as he shuts the bathroom door. shortly after, to avoid any awkwardness you dash back to your room after quickly consuming your feast of toast.

your door is slightly ajar as you spot lando making a beeline towards it. you sigh as you only imagine what he is about to say as he opens the door.

"tell me that you weren't flirting with him today"

"lando" you say, partly in questioning, partly in confusion.

"you know" he says, desperately this time, creeping slower towards you.

"I was talking to him about you" you say, quite frankly relishing in the feeling it gives to him any kind of humiliation.

he's stunned silent, though his face paints a faint distrust.

"don't make me cocky" the switch he makes from neutral to smug nearly gives you whiplash.

"talking to him about how to make you "crack" or something"

something twitches within him, like you've caught him during something.

"and how exactly did you plan on doing that?"

you ponder the question but realise lying would do more than truth.

"I think I already have"

he scoffs at that but his eyebrows and jaw is slack and you gain confidence at the sight. moving towards him his eyes follow your every move, scanning over your bare legs and the bare skin where the shit has slid down your shoulder revealing your collar bone. your hands land just above his waistband and he leans towards your touch as your hands circle just above it. drifting ever so slightly up to feel the taut muscle below his shirt. his jaw is clenched as he gains control once more and suddenly grips both of your wrists in his hands. really looking at you now, taking the sight of you in.

"don't"

"why?"

"you're my best friend"

"we passed "friends" in ibiza"

he takes a step backwards towards the wall, throwing his hands out in exasperation.

"fuck you make me so fucking angry, "

he takes a breath and continues, looking at you now.

"I shouldn't look at Daniel like I wanted to kill him just because he talked to you."

his body twitches once again towards you as he opens his eyes to meet yours.

"do you want me to say how good he was?" you say, blaming the alcohol from earlier for your vulgarity.

his eyes flash black and you smile, finally yielding the reaction that lando seemed to get from you.

"bet he wasn't as good as me"

"hmm.... wanna refresh my memory?" its bold but you don't care.

just like that lando steps out of the doorway and closes it behind him, coming straight towards you.

"do you want me too?"

"hm maybe he was better?" you're still teasing because frankly, he still deserves it and you hate to say again but you relish in the feeling you take from it.

"don't act all cute" lando says, voice straining.

with that comment you make a small stride towards him, once again closing the gap between the two of you, though instead of aiming for his waistband you go for the neck.

“don’t pretend that you don’t like it” you say, your breath fanning his neck as he either tries to centre himself or allow you to do whatever it is you’re doing to him. your nose grazing the skin of his neck and he visible shivers, goosebumps littering the skin that you just grazed. it was no secret Lando’s neck was fucking sensitive and you’d always saved the information for a rainy day, today was fucking pouring. you skimmed the right side of Lando’s neck with your tongue, barely touching, only the slightest bit, then focused in on smaller spots kissing around to the left side and then coming up and moving over, he made little sound, though he made clear note that he was holding it in, his hands so harshly by his side, shoved into his pockets to keep himself from touching you, he needed to be the one to break, you wouldn't, accept anything else. so when you finally reached a spot just underneath his jaw, left of his now bobbing throat, he let out a strangled groan/whimper/laugh and you knew that was the first domino to fall. that, noise which brought his hand out of his pockets and onto your hips. the noise which encouraged you to knot of your hands into his hair just how you know he liked it.

"don't make me beg" he says, finally breaking the impenetrable silence by a whisper, a low mumbled sequence of words that makes your core tighten shamelessly.

you break apart finally and look at him; wanton and desperate, neck red and hair messy. his shirt once droopy and casual, now clung to the parts of him that you wished you could see. his shoulders, his chest, his arms. you admired him for a lost amount of time before ever debating the substance of a response, figuring your blatant admiration was enough to tell him that you seriously didn't plan to. your hands leave any skin of his and go behind your back, grabbing the hem of your shirt to pull over your head. your room is cold, at least you think it must be, because your nipples are already hard under your shirt as you stand in nothing but your panties directly in front of your best friend. his hands are already out of his pockets, hovering just beside your skin, you mimic the words he’s just said to you.

“don’t make me beg” you say, hoping the crack in your voice is unnoticeable as you portray your last wish for him to put his hands on any part of you.

his eyes are empty now, only looking at you, really looking as he finally drags his hands up and down the side of your stomach. looking at the way your eyes flutter closed any time his fingers brush over your bare breasts. before you can mumble any more arguments his body is on yours, in a flash. he couldn't have touched you fast enough, hard enough, long enough. his lips fought furiously with yours as he displayed your now bare back against the blank wall he once stood on, hands now deliciously free from his pockets and thick fingers all over every part of you. you're tugging at the hem of his shirt while he kisses your neck, wanting nothing more than the feeling of his skin against yours. he breaks apart from you in a flurry and he pulls his shirt over his head. you step back against the wall to distant yourself from him in order to see the whole expanse of his chest as he drops the cloth on the floor with yours. there is nothing but air exchanged between you two for the better of 30 seconds as you stare eachother down. lando eyes raking every inch of bare skin while you hone in on the expanse of his shoulders, noticing a faint but noticeable bite mark that you may or may not have caused.

"eyes are up here?" he says, much too cocky for something who was writhing while you pulled his hair moments ago.

“shut up” you say, making your way towards him once more, basking in the warmth that connects your two bodies. it’s a collision that could be considered bruising as your lips meet, clashing once more, albeit more desperately as you cling to any part of landos skin that is exposed. focusing on the way his back moves with you and the taut muscles that moves in and out. it’s hot between you two, lando is constantly moving his hands that seem to explore just about every edge of your body; your jaw, your neck, that spot just above your hip. he hasn’t even done anything but you’re virtually begging when he finally moves his hands down toward your soaking core. pulling your panties down was swift and lando almost immediately was back on you, covering you, shielding you. he looked at you as he spat in his hand, you’d probably find it disgusting if you weren’t so turned on. your eyes twitched and he lowered his hands, sliding the wetness through your folds, your eyes fluttered shut and your body jolted forward in the pleasure. fuck he felt so good, you throw your head back, against the wall needing some kind of grounding feature. his hands finally pushing inside of you, making you make some kind of strangled sound that lando laughs at quietly as he pushes his thick finger in and out of you slowly.

"so fucking wet huh?" he says beside your ear, taunting lips grazing your earlobe.

you shiver at the comment, disgraced how much he has effected you in such little time. he seems to read your mind though and adds another finger, causing another whole wave of pleasure to come over you and a stretch of fucks and shits and countless deep breaths, you move your hand over his, encouraging him to speed up. which he soon does, painfully so, curling his fingers in and out of you, knowing how close you're getting, paying attention to the way your face flutters and your legs shake. you drag your other hand to your clit while his pace remains bruising. you whimper at the contact, your clit suddenly swollen and sensitive with the contact. your keeling over nearly, lando keeping you entirely upright as you get yourself impossible closer. its all to soon when his movements still and he grabs your hand, prompting you to look at him, desperate and confused and endlessly frustrated.

"tell me what you were thinking 'bout when this afternoon." not a question, a statement. he wouldn't continue if you didn't answer him.

you're squirming now, against your will, shamelessly desperate but you weren't going to give him any satisfaction. you wouldn't let yourself. you try and steady yourself, coaxing all the faux confidence you could before teasing him just that little bit more. you lean forward, as he did before. grazing your nipples on his chest and your lips on his earlobe, you could see he was hard now and you planned to use it.

"thinking about the time Danny fucked me in this room" you weren't lying, Danny did use to come over when lando was away, but just to hang out. you'd divulge that part later.

you didn't miss the way lando eyebrows grew flat and his eyes darkened, hands suddenly gripping firmer on your skin as you looked up at him, coy as can be. you lean forward again, he almost stops you but you get far enough to tell him.

"was thinkin' about how big you are" that caused a reaction. praise. his eyes suddenly springing open.

"knew it" he retaliates almost laughing as he closes the gap once again, though this time moving onto the bed. as he pushes you on the bed he removes his boxers, the final fucking barrier between the both of you and you couldn't be more giddy as he goes to get on top of you and you push him so he's rolled over.

he's fucked you once. your turn.

you use his chest to steady yourself as you put both legs beside him, relishing in the way he looks at you. like there's nobody else, nothing else, just you and him. hes so warm, sweat sheening the skin on his chest and thighs, his hair is damp and he raises his head, one hand behind it to admire you. you graze one finger over his tip and his abdomen tenses and lets go, so fucking sensitive. he's biting his lip as you tease him a fair bit more, just enough, circling the tip, see it throbbing.

"wanna -hmph... tell me how big it is" its strangled and mocking and high-pitched and so fucking hot coming out of his mouth you can't do anything but oblige, so as you finally sink down onto his red, throbbing cock.

"so fucking big lan' " he lets out something actually audible at that comment but you're not entirely sure you hear it because it feels so fucking good, the stretch from this angle. you feel lando's hands come to your hips aiding you as he slowly bottoms out. he leans up to meet you when he bottoms out, you're in a trance, so overwhelmed with pleasure that you're sure lando is a god or something the way he moves your hips just fucking right that has you repeating his name like a mantra as he moves the both of you in perfect fucking unison.

"so fuckin' pretty"

"so fuckin' perfect"

"make me so fuckin' angry"

you smile at his comments, biting your lip, he knows his effect on you but you could always try to dampen it just a little more, but the comments don't help the noises that escape your mouth.

" 'm close " you say, between incoherent noises, he smiles against your neck and goes faster, impossibly faster, forcing you impossibly closer together. you clumsily move one of your hands to your clit and its perfect. he knows just how close you are, putting both his hands around you as you suddenly become weak as it rushes over you, jolting forward, head landing on his shoulder before he sloppily thrusts a few more times and hes coming hard and fast inside you and you're fucking perfect. everything is perfect, your hand is in his hair, holding it firmly, keeping you down to earth as you meet his eyes.

"fuck you" its breathless and completely futile as you play with the curls at the back of his head, melting in any kind of touch you're willing to give him. he laughs at you and you fucking love his smile.

"you just did" he said, incredibly proud of himself, leaning in afterwards littering your neck with kisses.

#source: cafekitsune #f1 #f1 fic #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #mclaren #formula 1 #lando norris fic #lando norris friends to lovers #Daniel ricciardo #formula one #f1 edit #f1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #formula one smut #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lando norris blurb

[justalia]

creation is finished

this is probably the most important teaching of all and understanding this truly will help your journey.

understanding that creation is finished is vital to your law of assumption journey.

i’m sure most of you have been stuck in a cycle of trying and/or exhausting yourself by trying to maintain the state of the wish fulfilled.

what you desire already exists

the only reason why you have this burning desire towards something is because you are meant to experience it, and by meant i mean that you wouldn’t desire it if it wasn’t already within you waiting for you to realize it is already yours.

what you desire already exists!

there are infinite versions of you within your imagination waiting on you to believe them into being. they already are so! they already are who they want to be and have what they want to have and are not doing anything to try and get it.

it’s important to understand that when you imagine and decide to return to the state of the wish fulfilled you’re NOT doing it to make something happen in the 3D.

my mistake

the main thing i was doing wrong while studying and starting to apply the law was failing to truly internalize the fact that my outer reality is not my true reality, imagination is.

(my advice to everyone is to just apply without being judgmental with yourself, start applying and understand what works for you and what’s easier because this is how i learned how to properly apply the law without necessarily popping a vein)

this is a very common mistake and something you truly need to sit with in order to make your journey of self easier.

i was (as most of you probably are) stuck in a trying cycle, i understood imagination was the creator but i didn’t sit with the knowing that everything is already created in imagination and i don’t have to do anything to make it so.

for some reason seeing imagination as a creator (which is true) made me focus on creating my desire with the use of imagination instead of actually understanding that imagination is my only reality and everything is already so in there.

i’m not gonna lie to you, i was seeing movement because i was in the state of having my desire but i was extremely anxious about it, i was too focused on the movement i was getting and that lead to manifesting more movement instead of my full manifestation which obviously led to my desire taking more time to materialize.

the time it takes is absolutely irrelevant and i want the focus for you to be on how miserable i was while getting that movement, me being so focused on the movement made me rely completely on the 3D.

i was doing all of this to get my desire instead of accepting it fully in imagination. i was flip-flopping between states.

had i actually sat with the knowing that while imagination creates the outer world it is also the only reality out there and everything is already created in imagination i would’ve had a much pleasurable journey, because i am not supposed to create it, it already is!

you’re not making it happen!

for some reason even while actively studying the law and understanding it i was applying it in a way that was driving me insane in the long run, i hadn’t fully detached from the 3D so my results weren’t even long lasting because the moment something weird happened i would be deeply affected, and even when only favorable things were happening i was extremely focused on that.

“you don’t imagine for it to be so, you imagine it being so!” -EA

this is key!!!

please understand that while imagination creates the outer world you don’t have to turn it into a manifestation machine.

you tend to return to the state because it creates the outer world and therefore fall into the trap of doing things to get and constant trying.

you’re supposed to return to the state because why on earth would you think something isn’t yours when it actually is?

how would you react if i told you the phone you’re reading this post on isn’t yours??

“the fuck is she talking about, this is my phone”

well, yeah this is how i want you to think about imagination. it is your only reality and you should treat it as such.

there is nothing other than imagination, your desire comes from imagination and the fulfillment of your desire happens in imagination and there you also always experience it.

even when it materializes you are always experiencing it in imagination.

true fulfillment comes from imagination, if you don’t fully internalize that you will struggle!

i’m sorry, hate to break it to you, but you’ll never be satisfied in this world if you don’t understand where the fulfillment truly takes place.

as within, so without

take this seriously!

this phrase is the basis of the law: what you plant within your imagination will be expressed on the outside simply because imagination is the creator of your whole existence.

you need to understand that this isn’t something new you’re doing, you’re always giving something to yourself in imagination whether that be good or bad.

you’re not supposed to work for the wonderful things you want expressed.

you already have them! that’s the only thing you need to realize!

you already have them in their full potential, you’re not building your desire step by step.

the outside world will mold to you because it is the only thing it is able to do. do not worry about the outside, do not worry about others.

the outside is not your true reality. it not your true self.

“as within so without” doesn’t mean “let me change this inside so it gets reflected”.

it means “let me focus on my inner world cause that is all that exists, and by default the outer world follows.”

it seems similar but it is not, because the first one implies doing something to get what you want which necessarily implies not having it, the other ones implies acceptance that you already have it.

if you don’t accept that you are the inner man and not the outer man you will continue flip flopping between states, getting little to no movement and getting frustrated because of that.

you cannot change the outer world

you will never be able to change the outside if you don’t change SELF first.

all the things you try to do will never result in a change in the outer world if you don’t understand that you need to drop it completely.

you can’t have something and still desire/need it in the 3D.

you will be unsuccessful if you try that and most of all you will drive yourself crazy and be exhausted. because changing the outer world is never your job, the outer world changes itself.

when you understand this and you start living inwardly (consciously, because we all already do this, but unconsciously) you will not be affected by what happens outside! because that’s not your true reality, you will walk with complete stillness knowing the outer world molds to you and not the other way around.

you’re not shifting your state to make it express, you are shifting your state because you understand that the outer world is not your true reality and why would you believe in something that’s not true? why would you want to believe in something that is a mere reflection and not the actual reality?