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justwearthegoddamncardigan · 9 months

Note

Hello:)

so I was looking thru ur pinned post and saw that u wrote for Harry Potter and was wondering if you would do a fic for George Weasley? ( fem reader pls) but basically, I was just kind of thinking of an introverted Gryffindor who loves books and George meets them and they both (very obvious to others) have a crush on each other? Maybe George just asks them for book recs even tho he had no interest in reading before just so he can find a way to talk to the reader? I know you have a lot of fics in the making so take ur time please<3

A HP REQUEST?? This is amazing I'm so excited to be branching out from maze runner again, and I absolutely love this request it's super cute ❤❤. Ty for being so kind and sweet as well :)

Umm :D So I wrote the above ^^^ response as soon as the request came in and now... IT'S BEEN TWO MONTHS IM SO SORRY ANON!! Hope you're still out there to read 😭

It's a love story

George Weasley x fem!reader

I am not British *thumbs up in australian* so prepare either for out-of-place non-british dialogue or cringe attempts to fit into the universe. idk which one it's gonna be so I guess we'll find out

3.1k words

Warnings: language (swearing)

You turn the corner and register a flash of red hair before colliding hard with a body.

"Shit!"

You groan as you sit up, staring around to see your books have been knocked out of your arms and onto the floor.

"Fuck, sorry, listen I've gotta-"

"Weasley!"

You turn in surprise as Filch marches down the corridor, fist raised with an expression of rage on his face.

"Shit," you whisper.

"Yeah," says the person who knocked you over, who you've now found is none other than George Weasley. Of course, the guy you've kinda sorta maybe liked for years is only talking to you after literally bowling you over.

"Here." He points his wand and charms all your books into little palm-sized rectangles, before gathering them up and stuffing them in his pockets. "We've gotta go."

"Where?" you stare around the empty corridor, unable to find a decent hiding spot.

"Follow me." George leads you over to a dusty-looking tapestry and ducks behind it.

"What the-"

"Come on!" he reaches out and grabs your hand, tugging you in.

You stumble through the gap between the tapestry and the wall, practically falling into George's chest.

"Sorry," you mutter, and you're glad it's dark because you can feel your face blushing like crazy.

"I know you're 'round 'ere, Weasley," you hear Filch snarl from outside.

You hear him muttering to himself as his footsteps eventually recede, and you let out a breath. "He's gone."

You turn to push through the tapestry to get out, only to be met with a thin slab of solid stone. "What-"

George winces. "Yeah, once you get in here it closes for about half an hour."

"Half an hour?" you repeat incredulously.

You can barely see his nod in the dark. "I mean, one of them closes for two hours once you get in, so half isn't too bad."

There's beat of silence, before, "Lumos."

The tip of George's wand lights up, illuminating the small space. "Oh, it's you," he says, seemingly on instinct the moment the light appears.

"Pardon?"

He seems to catch himself, shaking his head. "Nevermind, just- Here, sit down."

You sit down on the floor with your legs crossed, heart skipping a beat as your knee brushes against his in the cramped space.

"We're in the same Transfiguration class, aren't we?" asks George.

"I- yeah." You're pleasantly surprised by that. You tend to be pretty quiet in class, mostly keeping to yourself.

"You're always the first person to get a new transfiguration successfully. Bird to glass on the first try, right?"

"I- yeah," you say, warming at the recognition of the hard work you've always put into Transfiguration.

He nods. "Took me the whole lesson to get that one right. Hey, I never caught your name in class?"

"It's L/n," you say. "Y/n L/n."

"Good to meet ya, Y/n," he grins. "I'm George."

"I know," you can't help but say, smiling slightly.

"Oh, your books." George empties his pockets of your miniaturised books. "Engorgio." He waves his wand over them, changing them back to their normal size.

"Thanks," you say, pulling them towards you and stacking them up.

"You read a lot?"

You smile to yourself, picturing the dozens of books you go through in a term. "Just a bit."

"Sure," says George, eyeing the four novels sitting in front of you now.

Before long, you reach out and push against the tapestry, finding it to be cloth again instead of stone.

"Time to go?" George stands and pushes through, and you follow him into the corridor.

"Finally," you say, stretching before grabbing your books.

"Sorry about earlier," says George with a sheepish smile. "And for trapping you for half an hour."

You shake your head. "It's okay."

He grins at you. "Alright then, see you 'round Y/n."

You stand still, rooted to the ground as he leaves, waving behind him, and something in you clicks. Oh shit.

⭒----⭒

Any thoughts about George a put aside for the night when you settle down with your book.

The common room late at night is your happy place. Most people are sleeping in the dorms, save for a couple 6th years finishing their assignments.

You tune out their little whisperings as you sit beside the crackling fire, and you can just pretend you're alone in the common room, getting lost in your book.

Before long, you're actually alone, with the remaining people all retreating to their dorms - except for one that you haven't noticed.

George is sitting across the room, barely paying attention to the essay he's meant to be editing. Every so often, he glances up at you without you noticing.

After years of sharing the same Transfig class, something about you has piqued George's interest, though he's always tried to mark it down as pure curiosity.

He can't believe it's taken literally knocking you to the ground to get your attention, and he doesn't understand how he hadn't properly met you before earlier that day. But now, he can't seem to resist the strange pull you have on him.

Get yourself together, you've only met once, idiot. George frowns as he silently berates himself, but he can't help but watch as you repeatedly flick away a strand of hair that keeps falling into your eyes.

Fuck it. Go talk to her.

George stands abruptly, nearly knocking over a goblet in the process.

You, the oblivious centre of all his thoughts for the past few hours, are still just sitting beside the fire, reading your book.

"Hey."

You jerk slightly in surprise, grabbing your book as it starts sliding out of your lap.

"Um, hi. What's up?" you manage to say coolly.

George blanks. He hadn't exactly come in with a plan. He glances down at the assignment he'd been working on; good enough. "Did you finish that work Flitwick gave us?"

"I haven't yet," you say slowly, slightly confused as to why he's here. "I've just gotta write a conclusion and edit the rest."

"I haven't got a clue how to write the damn conclusion," says George, flopping down beside you and complaining about the rigid essay structure.

You realise as he's talking that it's strangely intimate. Earlier, you'd been sitting on the floor with your back leaning on a couch and your knees up, braced against the coffee table.

Now, you're both wedged between said couch and table, and despite the generous space between the two of you, you feel oddly close to him.

"Can I read yours?" he asks, pointing to where your assignment has been sitting since you gave up and decided to just read your book.

"Sure," you say, sliding it to him.

He leans against the couch as he skims your work, fingers tapping absent-mindedly.

"God you write like a professor, Y/n," comments George. "...the fuck are all these words- incandescence?"

"I... read a little," you say with a little smile, cheeks warming at the way your name sounds in his mouth.

He glances up at you. "This is brilliant. So you've just got the conclusion to do?"

You nod, taking back the assignment as he pushes it to you.

You end up staying up way longer than you'd intended, talking to George as the conversation topic quickly strays away from any Charms essays.

By the time you go to your dorms, you haven't even finished your conclusion.

⭒----⭒

"Mate, you're not nearly as subtle as you think you are," says Fred, elbowing his brother.

George elbows him right back. "What're you on about?"

"The staring," says Fred, grin teasing. "It's getting embarrassing. If whatever little crush you've now got starts affecting my reputation, we're gonna have to have a chat about this twin thing."

George rolls his eyes. "Git."

"So..." Fred drags out the word. "Who is it then?"

He jerks his chin towards the group of girls on the other side of the Gryffindor breakfast table, where George had been conspicuously staring at you all morning.

"The one on the left - Y/L/N, she's in our Transfig class."

"Oh!" says Fred, eyes lighting up in understanding. "Oh she's great, I did a project with her once. Quiet type, bookish. Fun, though. Pretty, too," he adds, raising an eyebrow at George.

"Shut it," retorts George. "What should I do then?"

"I don't fuckin' know Georgie, just go talk to her. Ask for book recommendations or something."

"That's... actually a decent idea."

" 'course it is," says Fred. "Anything to get you guys together as fast as possible so I don't have to deal with your lovesick horsecrap."

⭒----⭒

A Quidditch game has just finished (Gryffindor victory, of course), and you're avoiding the inevitable party in the common room. You can enjoy parties on a good day, but you're just not feeling it right now.

So you're in the library, wandering around as you wait for dinner.

"Y/n!" You turn to see George doing a weird half-run toward you, not wanting to be yelled at for running in the library.

"Oh, George. Hey."

"I figured you'd be in here," he says.

"You figured...?"

"Well," he raises an eyebrow at you. "Since you read a little."

You huff out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "So why were you looking for me?"

You try to listen as he speaks, but you're immediately distracted by just about everything about him.

His cheeks are flushed red, probably cause he just transitioned from the cold outside to the heated library, and his hair is windswept and slightly wet from melted snowflakes.

He's gotten rid of his Quidditch gear, but it's strange to see him in just the casual clothes students usually wear in the dorms and common room again.

And he's still speaking. Pay attention, Y/n.

"Anyways, I just wanted to find you, cause you know, hobbies... and literature, are really... important. And the Christmas holidays are coming up. So I just wanted to ask if you had any recommendations."

You frown slightly as you remember it's only the start of November, and he barrels on, almost seeming nervous.

"For books, I mean. To read, over the holidays. I don't, uh- come in here very often, so I don't know what's good. You seemed like a good person to ask." He scrubs a hand over the back of his neck as he speaks, giving you a hopeful smile.

"I am," you say with a smirk. You straighten up confidently, banishing any nervousness because books; books you can do.

"Great," says George. "What've you got for me, Y/L/N?"

"Well what kind of books do you like?"

His grin falters. "Um-"

"Fiction, non-fiction, stories, biographies?"

"...stories?"

"Sure." You navigate to another aisle, moving into the more fiction-y section. "Action, ooh- historical, adventure, romance?" You lift an eyebrow at the last one.

"I-" He clears his throat, and you smile slightly to yourself. "Action is good, I think," he says uncertainly.

You scan the shelf currently at your eye level, before picking out a book. "I love this one," you tell him. "Pretty fast paced, which might be good for you. Also, dragons."

"Dragons," he repeats. "Great."

"How many books are you looking for?" you ask.

"Just one, I think. I wanna... get into reading, before the holidays start."

"Sure," you say, holding the book out to him.

It's like sun breaking through, when he smiles in return. "Do you think we could meet up?" he begins. "To talk about the book once I've read it?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," you smile. "And you have to tell me what you like, so I can recommend you the next one."

"Excellent."

⭒----⭒

Ever since giving George that first book you've started seeing him almost every day.

The two of you can be found huddled together in the little nooks around the library, or behind the greenhouses, or down by the lake, talking about books and school and everything in between.

But soon the holidays arrive, and you're saying goodbye to him and the rest of your friends.

Your parents are being forced to travel a lot over Christmas for work, so the first month of the holiday flies by in a whirlwind of tea in the morning with the few remaining students in Hogwarts, long peaceful walks on the grounds, and lots and lots of reading.

You've devoured a row of books in the library by the time Christmas has passed, and you've planned to go through another row, when George materialises in the common room one day, two weeks after Christmas.

"George?" you exclaim, spotting him in the common room.

He turns as he hears your voice, and his face splits into a wide grin. Without hesitation, he runs up to you and pulls you into a hug, lifting you just slightly above the floor.

Your heart swells as his laughter rings in the air, and suddenly everything is complete.

"I missed you so much," you tell him, almost surprised at your own admission. Truth is, Hogwarts is beautiful during Christmas, but it's a little lonely with everyone else having gone home.

George's responding smile is worth the wait though, and he tosses an arm around your shoulder as he leads you out of the common room.

"C'mon, it's a Hogsmeade day. No time to waste!"

⭒----⭒

The two of you settle down at a table in the Three Broomsticks, grabbing Butterbeers as you go.

"Alright then, Weasley. Did you get through the holiday book I got you?"

He smiles. "I did. And you know what I was thinking when I read it?"

"What?"

"Y/n would hate Chaolie, and she'd love Alosia."

You blink in surprise. "I- yeah, those are my exact thoughts on the book."

George smirks. "See? I know you."

"I mean yeah, I loved every chapter Alosia was in; she's my favourite. Typical, I know, everyone likes the side characters, but god, Allo would've been so much better as a main character than fucking Chaolie. G.T.L. is brilliant- we know that, she fits insane arcs and storylines into a single book, but please,-"

George listens, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth, as you continue rambling animatedly about the book, your hands gesturing enthusiastically as you speak.

"And the cover: gorgeous. You know stories like this can have the silliest cover art if they're not done well, and the choice to go almost muggle-style with a non-moving cover is perfect."

You brush a stray piece of hair away from your face, oblivious to the way George tracks the movement, desperately wanting to reach out and tuck it behind your ear for you.

The bell on the door chimes and you look over George's shoulder to see a bunch of familiar redheads walking in.

"Ah, Y/n," says Fred, floating towards your table. "Lovely to finally see you again after having to hear so much about you over Christmas."

You giggle as George thumps his brother with his book, face turning almost as red as his hair. "Stupid- git."

"This is the Y/n?" says Ron, another one of George's brothers.

His sister joins in too. "Ah, so you're the reason we had to come back early."

"Early?" you repeat, confused.

"Enough," snaps George. "Piss off, all of you," he says, fruitlessly shoving his siblings away from your table.

He groans. "Come on Y/n, we're leaving." He tugs on your hand, and you snort as his family's antics as you down the last sip of Butterbeer and hop off your seat.

"Until we meet again, Y/n." Fred salutes you as you exit, and you laugh as you wave to the rest of the Weasleys.

"Sorry about them," says George, slightly pink in the cheeks.

"Don't worry," you laugh. "It's fine. But what did Ginny mean when- hey!"

You're cut off as George yanks off his scarf and starts wrapping it around your neck and face. "...It's cold out," he explains weakly as you give him a look.

You pin him down with your gaze, and he sighs. "Fine."

He grabs your hand and leads you away from the Three Broomsticks, brushing snow off a park bench before sitting down.

Every memory he's had with you, every moment he's spent falling for you, flashes through his head.

The shy smile you had in your first few days of meeting, which he could only describe as cute, the mischievous glint in your eye when you'd almost recommended him a romance book, your laugh that he's memorised the sound of... damn it, he better not fuck this up.

You sit down beside him, giving him a concerned look.

"Okay, here it is," he says abruptly. "I like you."

You blink, caught off guard.

"You're so- you're bright," he says. "There's this light in you, and it's so fucking bright, and people don't see it. I don't get that. But whatever, they don't matter. I just mean, I've been pretty much blinded by you since we met... well, since I knocked you over running from Filch. I- god, fuck this metaphor. The point is, every time I'm not with you, I'm just wishing that I was. Cause I like you, and I wish- I'd hoped, that maybe you like me back?"

You're still silent, your brain trying to catch up with what your ears are hearing.

But George takes the silence differently. "It- it's okay if you don't. You know, I don't want to pressure you, at all. It's completely-"

"George." You take his hand. "I like you too, so damn much. I was just... I've never done this before. I didn't know if I should ask you out, or confess, or anything."

George lets out an incredulous breath. "Oh. Well then."

He rests his forehead against yours. "Y/n, will you do me the great honour of becoming my girlfriend."

You're smiling so much it almost hurts. "I'd love to," you whisper.

⭒----⭒

It's only on your first date, that you realise; "You know, we've practically be dating this whole time."

"What do you mean?" asks George, digging into his icecream.

"Meeting up, just the two of us. We've been doing it for ages, except we thought it was just book meetings."

The spoon stills halfway to George's mouth. "...fuck."

You snort, "We're both idiots, aren't we."

"Could've saved me so much grief if I'd known we were already dating. It was well shit, overthinking everything over the holidays."

"You mean when you missed me so much you convinced your whole family to come back to school early?"

"Sod off," he replies, nudging your foot and grinning. "You thought it was cute, anyway."

"I did."

There's a beat, before; "Kissing," you say, pointing your spoon at him. "We weren't totally dating, cause we didn't kiss."

"Right," agrees George, nodding. "Speaking of..."

You let out a laugh, setting your icecream down on the table, and then you let him pull you in.

Silly details cause I can't help myself: Alosia is a music project by dodie, Chaolie is based on Chaol from tog (sorry), and GTL is the fictional author from Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell. Thank you for tolerating my self-indulgent easter eggs.

Thank you for reading, everyone! Hope you enjoyed my first fic in the HP universe <3

#harry potter #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley #my writing

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alreadyblondenow · 2 years

Text

Can we fix it?

Johnny x Female reader

Genre: Breakup, Fluff, smut, slight angst

WARNINGS: Unprotected sex which is not advisable in real life situation, mentions of alcohol, drunk Johnny, cursing. Sorry if ever I left anything out.

TMI: This is for the readers who still comes back here and reading my old stories. Honestly I want to write and make time for it again and just like this fic, I want to fix my time hahaha forgive me though. But thank you for your support until now! How are you guys loving ‘2 Baddies’? I bought 6 albums this era, for sure I’ll buy more but I’m saving up to see NCT Dream and WayV next month. So, I think I’ll support 127 more during repack! I hope everyone is loving the album and has been streaming. Let’s give 127 wins huhu also im just uploading this thru phone so it might be jambled :(( sorry

“We need you here asap— he keeps smashing things” Jaehyun spoke through the phone as you hear Johnny at the background trying to get the phone from Jaehyun, shouting your name.

It’s been only weeks since you and Johnny broke up. He didn’t take it too well obviously, and you can’t believe you’re on your way to his place to take care of him. As soon as you arrived at his place, you went to the kitchen to heat something up for Johnny. And soon as you showed yourself to his friends, they were all relieved but Johnny was feeling… guilty, disgusted by himself and honestly all he wanted to do is hug you so tight.

You were purposely not answering every message he sent, not answering his calls, everything. You tried your best to avoid him. So now… you’re like a ghost. It almost felt like the first time he saw you. Your first date. A beautiful night. But now… the night was still beautiful because he finally saw you after the breakup but, he’s so broken right now.

“You can all go— sorry,” Johnny said, trying to get up from his couch while being mindful of the shattered wine glass on the floor. Successfully, you caught Johnny struggling to walk straight heading his room after you see Jaehyun and the other on their way out. You were quick to grab Johnny’s waist and helped him towards his bed.

He’s quiet now.

But he’s looking at your every move.

“We were fine. Why did you leave me like that” he started. Still in his drunken state. He leaned forward and rest his forehead on yours, all you can do is soothe his back and close your eyes.

“Wasn’t I your perfect man? How can you ruin us like that— we were fine” he cried out again. This time theres tears in his eyes and he was whimpering, blaming himself and trying to keep you closer to him even more.

You on the other hand, continue to gently try your best to sober him up. You used to have moments like this back in the past, moments that involves sweet talking, planning what to have for breakfast the next day, or how many rounds can you guys do for tonight’s love making. But now it’s just crying and wishing that you could go back in time.

“I wasn’t okay all the time Johnny, you have to understand that I can’t pull you down with me”

“What are you talking about—“

“You’re too good for me Johnny.

“What does that even mean? You’re the one who’s too good for me”

“No Johnny. Shut up you don’t know—“ you were getting really frustrated.

“No. You shut up. You didn’t even let me have a say in this. You just left me while I was still fighting and longing for us. I get it you’re not perfect, but I don’t need perfect too. I’m not perfect too, but when did I ever pushed you away? When did I ever stopped being a better version of myself?— I thought you love me”

He continued crying and whimpering.

You continued to listen and miss him even though you’re holding him. And you agree, everything he said is true and to be honest you’re already regretting that you left and made your lives miserable. It has been… nothing but dark skies ever since you left him.

Maybe all you need is talk. Talk it out. You never gave him a chance to convince you to stay.

“Fuck it— life continues without you. Fucking leave, that’s where you’re good at”

He pushed you away lightly, careful not to hurt you physically but the heartbreak that you’re feeling right now hurts even more.

As you close the door gently and proceed to cleaning up the mess he did, you remember how beautiful your relationship was with Johnny and you managed to ruin it and burn all the bridges down in a matter of weeks. You went inside again his room to take care of him, putting a clean shirt and managing to clean him up. It’s the least you could do.

What you didn’t expect was soft kisses on your neck from Johnny while you change his clothes. You missed the feeling of his lips. But what will happen to whats left in your relationship if you give in? You certainly didn’t want to be fuck buddies with him if that’s where he’s going. What you have… or what you had, was way more special just to go down this road.

“I need you to stop” you said calmly when you already felt Johnny’s big hand inside your shirt, cupping your boobs. He was humiliated once again, removed his hand before he left a soft kiss on your temple. He’s sorry and he’s already forgiven. Always.

And when the morning comes, regret was the first things that came into Johnny’s head. He was aware of what happened last night. What he said and what he did. But he didn’t expect to see you sleeping uncomfortably on his couch, freezing.

Of course you felt his presence in an instant. You’ve been craving for it. “Sorry I passed out, I was waiting for the sun to come out” You said with a warm smile, hoping that things between you two cooled down from last night.

“Well the sun is out. You can go now” he said coldly. He didn’t know why. He just felt the urge to be cold towards you this morning.

“O-okay. Thank you” you rambled and clumsily gathered your stuff. Heart broken as you help yourself out of his house. You never thought that Johnny would push you away like that… it must’ve hurt him too when you did the same thing to him.

Days went by and you two continue to miss each other.

You wanted to get back together, but you were scared that he will push you away again. And you can’t handle it anymore. Johnny on the other hand, was giving moving on a shot… because he thought this is really what you wanted.

But then again, the alcohol was just like magnet for the both of you. You received yet another emergency call from Jaehyun, telling you to go to this bar because Johnny needs you and has been asking for you non-stop.

“Can I pass this one out?” You asked Jaehyun through the phone.

“I believe no, the manager of the bar is already mad. Please Y/n, just this one time we’ll never bother you again”

Of course you went to the given address and looked for Johnny. There you saw him sleeping soundly outside the said bar and your heart was breaking as you watch him mumble that he’s tired and lost.

“Hi… Johnny, it’s me. I need you to take my arm—“ you said when you finally approached him.

“You’re not supposed to be here. Who called you? Jaehyun? Fuck him. He should know that I’m not your responsibility anymore, leave Y/n” he gently pushed you away. Again. And that’s it. You knew you couldn’t handle experiencing this again.

Of course you stepped back. But you watched him from behind, followed him every step of the way until he reaches his house. He forgot where he put his keys and if he’s totally being honest right now, he’s about to throw up from too much walking. When you decided to take it from there and offered to open his door, he didn’t stopped you because all he wanted to do is run towards his sink. But life had other plans for him because by the time you finally opened the door, he tried running inside but ended up tripping and you were quick to catch him. Making him throw up on your clothes.

You then realized how fucked up he is right now. Johnny is not usually like this. He’s never a handful and he never forgets to handle his own problems.

“This is all because of you” is all he can say.

And that completely broke your heart.

When things cooled down and you finally got the chance to clean yourself up. You were crying while you think over and over again what Johnny said. You told yourself. This it. This is exactly why you broke up with him. One last cry and you will be totally out of his life.

Of course Johnny felt bad while watching you clean yourself while crying. He was having second thoughts about saying he’s sorry but what he said is the ugly truth. Either way he did not hesitate to hand you clean clothes and tried comforting you the best way he could. “I should be the one crying— stay for the night, the bed is yours”

But you couldn’t stand it anymore. You did not look at him while you try and make yourself decent again. You even ignored the clothes he gave you. “I’ll be fine. Good night Johnny” you said weakly and head towards the door.

Frustration hit Johnny again. And this time when you were just about to leave, you wish that he will stop you. Please stop me. You secretly wish, tears running down your cheeks.

And in an instant you felt him hug you from behind. Immediately hugging you oh so tight that you couldn’t breathe but you love the feeling of it. “You can leave tomorrow. Just stay for the night” Johnny said. He knew that by the time he watch you leave again, he will regret not stopping you just like the night you broke up with him.

Given that you cant get away from his tight embrace, you assured him that you wont leave and sleep here at his place. He slowly gave you some space and head towards the bathroom again and handed you the clothes for the second time before he says ‘good night’

Heading towards his room with your heart beating so fast, you changed your clothes, with only his shirt on and your panties. You sat on his bed for hours and hours, thinking about the future. If this is the last night you’re going to be together like this. Apart and broken. Or you can go outside and fix it. Either way, you’re not sleeping.

But just as you were about to stand up from your comfort… Johnny opened the door and walked towards you, sitting in front of you and reached for your hand immediately. You didn’t stopped him.

“I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to talk for hours and hours. I love you and I want you to stay. Not just for tonight though,” he was close to tearing up but he was stopping himself, “H-hug me if you feel the same” he said weakly, his grip tightened wishing you would pull him in for that hug.

And so you did. And you didn’t just hugged him. You immediately kissed him lovingly and said your sorry for ruining your relationship. He shut you up with a heated kiss, feeling his soft touch all over you. Hearing the words, “let’s never hurt each other again” and “I don’t want to hear the word ‘sorry’ from now on” and immediately made you giggle when you felt his lips on your neck, kissing you down until you’re comfortably under his huge frame. Feeling his hands all over your body, slowly running it up and down. Even his touch felt so good and warm that you missed him already when he pull away to remove his clothes.

It almost felt like it was your first time with him again when you were watching him remove your clothes. Every touch, every kiss and every sound you hear from him makes you tingle and your nipples hard. Of course he saw it, he smirked and teased it, making you whine and grab his shoulders but he didn’t stop. He flattened his tongue and gently flipped the tip on your nipple, making you close your legs and became sensitive. Johnny loved your reaction and to be honest he just missed doing this to you so he pulled you up and made you sit on him, making him hug you with both arms, and let you grind on his hard cock, making it wet with your pussy juices.

He licked your nipples softly, making you weak and melt with his feathery touch on your back, sucking and biting it gently when he wanted to hear you. Ending his teasing with lots of kisses on your chest all the way up your lips until you two fell on the mattress again.

“Want to make me harder?” He asked sweetly, lips beside your ears, nibbling it until you say stop and switch places. Johnny spread his legs very wide and you did not hesitate to lick his long and thick cock. The only cock you love and made you cum so any times already. You gave him head for a few minutes, playing with tip and watching him stop himself from cumming.

“By the way you can’t cum inside me tonight, you might get me pregnant—“

“What’s this torture I thought were okay?” Johnny pouted with lidded eyes. He wanted to fuck your mouth so bad but tonight is not the right time to be filthy. “But can we fuck raw?” He made you stop sucking him and pulling you to an embrace, cleaning your face his hand and switching places with you again.

“Of course we can fuck raw, what are you? A stranger?” You let out a small laugh and kissed your boyfriend’s lips. You knew the moment you placed your lips on his, he will immediately line his cock in your entrance and slowly thrust in.

Smoothly and slowly. Johnny is fucking you now, making you crazy and dizzy with his cock, making you moan and ask for more. He was bigger than ever, you thought that he will rip you even though he was going slowly. Bodies on bodies, he fucked you even slower and deeper, he was moaning the whole time with furrowed brows and when you came and tried closing your legs, he stopped them from closing and started kissing you hungrily. Feeling his whole weight on you, slowly fucking you open until you didn’t have a choice but to cum while he was still fucking you and still catching his orgasm. Slowly.

It’s crazy how no one moved fast but you two were tired and sweaty as you both catch your breaths. Of course Johnny came outside and was quick to grab a tissue. You laugh and helped him clean up, spreading kisses all over his body until you’re both covered with his thick blanket, both very naked beneath it.

You’ve never been this close before. Tonight was just very different.

“Do you want to live with me?”

He said out of nowhere while you were playing with his hands.

“What? Where did that came from?” You asked and came closer.

“I don’t want to see you leaving my place again. I swear Y/n— I’ll go crazy” he caged you with his long legs, and made you laugh again. He was still hard but he didn’t want to go another round, he was just happy and excited again for the future, he told you.

“Thanks for fixing us, for us.” You looked him in the eye and rolled on top of him so you could have a good look at him. “Yes I would like to move in with you,” you smiled and placed a kiss on his soft lips which formed a smile.

#nct smut #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct 127 smut #nct #nct 127 #johnny suh #nct johnny #nct johnny suh #johnny smut #nct johnny smut

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nonbinaryaubrey · 1 year

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pretty muuch everyone in the cast has some minor inconsistencies between their artbook cover artwork, ingame art work, and sprites. (this is INCREDIBLY nitpicky i do not care thaat much.. but still. wanna point it out. also i am DEFINITELY missing things i am not going too in depth here i am soo eepy)

some small examples:

sunny:

in sunny's official artwork, and all of his in game artwork, his vest is completely black, the only time this isnt consistent is in his actual pixel sprite

Omori:

he has a preeetty simple design? so his never gets too inconsistent. but at times his sock length are changed.

(socks higher up)

(socks lower than the knees)

Kel:

Obviously, DW!Kels shirt changes constantly between artworks. cant even be annoyed at this one that shirt looks like agony to draw, altho his sprite loses the more pastel coloration.. altho i think this is just kind of a consistent thing with the dw sprites, so i wont point it out much with them.

RW Kel doesnt have.. anything suuuper noticeable ?as far as i can tell. but his sprite and actual artwork definitely have.. inconsistencies (skin tone, along with the stripe on his pants)

Aubrey:

DW Aubrey doesnt have anything suuper inconsistent i believe? so i wont bring her up. and we have already talked about RW Aubrey. her outfit is. WILLDLY inconsistent between artworks, even in the game itself. (im NOT getting into other official artworks here but . her shoes too i believe tend to not stick too one design)

Hero:

for DW Hero, just inconsistencies with the stripe thickness, the collar part of his pajamas, and.. whatever the part near the hands are called being either solid white, solid blue, or striped

for RW Hero.. oh boy. His shirt collar

Official artwork (and tag photos) it looks like this ^

in his talk sprite, its still a vneck but with a white stripe

when he saves you from drowning, it looks like this

even his pixel sprites have inconsistencies between eachother

(normal)

(hospital)

good fucking lord man .!!!

Mari:

not too much with her actually!! main thing is. inconsistencies with her having shoes or not. (if u want a bit in non-in game comparisons, some official art has her dw self wearing socks when in game i dont think shes ever shown wearing them?)

Basil:

and to end it all off, lets move onto Basil. !!!

(going to point this out first, in a LOT of both RW in DW Basil's actual artwork, he has 2 little tufts of hair at the top of his head, but in both his talk sprites and overworld sprites, its missing)

for DW Basil there is.. 2 things i think?

1: the flower crown. it varies.. a LOT between artwork. kind of obvious.

aaand. 2. his shirt . in most artwork ^ like shown above, it has a rounded tshirt neck. but in one specific artwork, it shows it being a collared shirt with a button

for RW Basil.. i dont think theres much?

kiiind of the same issue as sunny? tho less obvious ig. his shirt is shown as dark green in the official artwork, but as a muuch lighter green in the sprite.

also in his battle sprite, he loses that... little part between the vest and the collar of his shirt? idk what to call it.

i beliiieeeve thats.. it for them all? i think i am missing things apologies .but i dont feel like looking thru the wiki anymore . and i have no space left for imgs pretty much

#sorry for weird format for some images. it was because image limit #omori #<- I GET TO MAINTAG IT THIS TOOK FOREVER TO WRITE OUT #aubrey.txt #omori spoilers

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lewsnumerounofan · 1 year

Text

when in france (lh x reader)

summary: you bump into your ex, lewis, at a club in france. what’s the worst that could happen?

notes: nswf, ex-relationship, unprotected sex, oral (m/f receiving), little bit o’ angst, 4.6k words, not edited

+ check out other works here

+ switched the tense halfway thru again. but im too lazy to change it rn!!! sry!

---

“Lewis is here.”

You don’t hear your friend the first time she says it, the club’s music too loud in your ears. But she presses herself up against you the second time, puts her cheek alongside yours and you feel the shape of his name in her mouth as she yells.

Lewis.

You hadn’t expected him here. Sure, it was the night after a big victory -- a Mercedes two-three finish (not that you’d been watching) -- but from what you’d heard he wasn’t partying these days. He keeps to himself, were the words your mutual friend had used. You didn’t ask about him after that, didn’t want to remind yourself that you were no longer familiar with Lewis’ life, with the little things he did.

You pull your head up from the tight-packed dance floor and try to find him -- the tight braids, strong shoulders. And sure enough there is, being led up the wall-mounted staircase to the VIP area. Even from a distance you can see the heavy black cargos, the flimsy white tank top barely covering his shoulders, the dark press of his tattoos underneath.

“He’s so fine,” your friend murmurs. You turn, letting your shoulder shove into hers. Trying to slow your breathing, calm yourself. Lewis is here, in the same club as you. So close, and-

“He’s looking at you.”

“What?”

You whip back to your friend, but she’s suddenly busy dancing with a blue-haired girl, sending you a guilty kiss as the two move away. Some friend.

So it’s just you who has to turn back to where you know Lewis stands, remembering suddenly the time you surprised him by flying in for family Christmas. How his mother had grinned and shushed you at the front door, how he’d started smiling as soon as he’d seen you, how warm his hands had been wrapping under your stupid holiday sweater. You’re here, he’d said. But that had been months ago, before your promotion meant you could no longer spare weekends to watch his races, before he started calling you hammered from parties, other women's voices shrill in the background, before he stopped calling at all.

But when you look Lewis isn’t there. The stairs are empty, the glint of his jewellery nowhere to be found. Probably for the best, you think.

Probably for the best.

You manage to work back in with some people you’d met in line, joining them in another round of shots. By now everything is starting to feel a bit hazy, tingly, loose. A tall Frenchman presses at your back, his murmur low in your ear. You can’t hear him, laugh, continue dancing. Lewis is almost passed from your head. One more drink and you’re sure to be clear of him, one more… You part from your companions again, narrowly escaping the hands of your dance partner.

“I’m just gonna get another drink, be right back. Promise.”

Clumsily you make it to the bar, heave yourself onto the counter, admire the sea-glass collection of liquor bottles stacked along the shelves. Your head is slowing down a bit and your feet hurt. You order from the bartender and make to pull out your card when a thick British accent speaks from over your shoulder.

“Make it two. And you can add it to my tab, thanks.”

Lewis.

You let the heavy wood bar press into your back as you turned to face him. The same markings of facial hair at his jaw and above his lip, the same glittering stud in his nose. Same warm brown eyes, even the same chain at his neck -- the chain you’d given him after the horrible season end in Abu Dhabi. Still I Rise carved in small lettering on the private metal beside his neck.

“Hi. I was looking for you,” he says, easy, like the last time you saw each other wasn’t when you packed up your things and moved out of his apartment.

“You found me,” you say, because there’s nothing else to say and the club lighting is throwing soft shadows over his shoulders, his arms. He looks older than you remembered, more mature. You’re not sure how you get the words out -- your throat feels tight, your heart taking up all the room in your body.

Behind you the bartender sets down your drinks and you don’t give yourself time to think before offering one to Lewis, your outstretched arm as much a peace offering as you’re willing to make. Your hands brush as he takes it, nods. His eyes don’t leave yours. He says something to you but you’re too distracted by the shift in his throat as he swallows to hear. Or maybe it’s the music.

“What?”

He grins, flashing the tooth gap you’ve been thinking about for months, leans close enough for you to smell the alcohol on him, the cologne. Your heart is racing.

“Wanna go upstairs?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Another grin and he takes your hand. Laces your fingers together like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He leads you along the edge of the crowd, the dark skin of his shoulders shifting as he navigates alongside the wall. His rings are warm against your knuckles. You trail up the stairs behind him, know he’s going to stop in the dim landing of the alcove before he does.

He keeps both hands over yours, like he’s scared you’re going to try run away. Between the dancefloor and the speakers of the VIP lounge is quieter. You think you can hear Lewis’ heartbeat.

“I just- I wanted to say I’m sorry for how things ended. Between us,” he says, and his eyes are crinkled and you knew he really cares.

“S’okay, Lewis. It’s okay.”

Hope. That’s the little gleam in his eye as he lets his tongue push out into his cheek.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And then his hand is cupping your neck, the tips of his fingers already curling through your hair and you can’t help but smile back, rub your face into the soft skin of his palm.

“Wanna get drunk with me?” he whispers, like you’re teenagers again, like this is your shared secret plan.

Yeah. Yeah, you do.

You promised yourself you’d call an Uber home but Lewis doesn’t let you. He pulls your phone away and you’re too inebriated and slow to get it back. Too happy and giggly to care. He dangles it just out of reach and you let yourself play, pressing your body against his, stretching until you feel the hot fan of his breath on your neck. His hands settling on your hips, his lips on your neck. Come home with me, he’s saying, and you’re nodding into the crook of his shoulder, breathing him in.

In the car he slides closed the privacy screen between the driver and the backseat. Doesn’t even let you get all the way in before he’s pulling you onto his lap, hands framing your face, teeth biting at your lower lip. When you pull away his eyes are sleepy and wholly black, his mouth quirked up at one side, red from kissing. You want him in your mouth then, want to see if he tastes the same as you remember.

You’d done this once before on the way to some fancy event. There had been no time in the hotel beforehand, and Lewis’ cropped outfit had been irresistible. Hidden between his legs, careful not to disturb the fine fabric of his pants, you’d let him hit the back of your throat every time the car went over a bump. The way he whimpered as you kitten licked him, ringed thumb feeling his own cock through the skin of your cheek. You’d barely finished swallowing and tucking him back into his pants when you’d arrived. He’d kissed you real hard hidden in the privacy of the car. Kept looking over at you during the event speeches. Smiling, looking down, shaking his head. You’d squeeze his hand or shove him. He returned the favour in one of the bathrooms, slight scuff marks on the knees of his suit the only hint as you two returned for dessert.

But this time is different. Lewis doesn’t pick up on what you’re doing at first, whining when you break away from him. His hands are grasping at your shirt but you push him off, shaking your head, grinning.

“Wanna touch you,” he says, and his voice is rough and low. You almost abandon your plans. Almost. Instead you move your legs from around his hips to between them, dropping to the floor of the car. You pull your hair up too, knowing that Lewis will pull at it anyways.

“Oh.”

You give him one more wicked smile before finding the button of his pants, tugging his zipper down. Already Lewis is impatient, muscled thigh bouncing up and down lightly in your peripheral. You slide your hand along it, soothing turning brazen as you continue your path to trace the hard shape of him through his briefs.

He curses, jerking under your featherlight touch. You can see his clenched fists pressed on either side of the seat in a desperate attempt not to grab for you. Not to upset the odd balance that somehow found you at the same club, on the same night, and now on your knees before him.

“You can touch me, Lewis,” you joke, but it comes out slow, sounds sanded down by your inebriation.

His fingers find your hair, tucking back stray strands so he can see your mouth. Quickly, hands fumbling slightly, you pull him out of his boxers. Quiet, pressing kisses to the head of him, the shaft, the sensitive skin of his pelvis. You let the short hair there scratch at your cheek before you lick an unbroken strip up. Above you, Lewis’ chest heaves, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. He’s always been transfixed by this, by watching you. So you look up at him, at his sleepy hooded eyes, as you take him into the back of your throat. He makes a desperate hurting sound, his hand gripping harder at your hair. You hold him there for a moment, letting water collect at your lash line, letting your gag reflex kick in, before humming once and pulling up, spitting into your fist, stroking him.

Lewis is everywhere — his laboured breathe in your ear, the musky taste of him in your mouth, his smell.

Stupid of you to think your memories could be fonder than reality, that the velvet of his skin couldn’t be as all-consuming as you recollected. He is beautiful before you, his powerful thighs and wide, strong torso. The gentle stroke of his fingers at your scalp. You had missed this, missed him. You swipe at his precum with your tongue, savouring the hot smooth skin there, the way he moans under the small gentle touches of your mouth.

The car comes to a stop before you can take him into your throat again, and Lewis doesn’t even bother fully zipping up his pants as he leads you out of the car. His kisses on your neck, shoulder, cheek, murmuring that he’d missed your mouth, that you looked so pretty on your knees. You blush -- not minutes after sucking him off in the back of a car you’re blushing at his praise.

He takes your hand as you hurry through the hotel lobby and over to the elevators. You shush each other, both frantically pressing at the up button and laughing at the fullness of the moment. You’re drunk off Lewis.

As soon as the elevator doors open he’s on you, pressing you back to the mirrored glass wall, licking into your mouth, your teeth. His hands are all over, hiking up your dress, pushing back your hair, grasping and tilting your face to where he wants it.

“Lew-”

He hums into you, reaching between your legs to cup your core. It’s so brazen, so claiming that your legs feel weak. You let your arms fall around his neck, let yourself take everything he gives you.

The elevator pings, the doors open. Lewis pulls off your mouth, forehead pressed to yours so your breathe mingles. His brow furrows and for a second you’re terrified this has all been some misunderstanding. That the next sentence out of his mouth will be this was a mistake. That this was all some horrible attempt to cushion your feelings or not make you feel stupid.

“It might be a little messy in my room-”

You laugh and blow right by him, ducking under his reaching arms.

“Hey,” he calls, but you’ve already made it to his door and are in the middle of an attempt to take off your heels, catching desperately at the wall for balance.

“Hey what,” you echo back, pulling your head up to find him real close now. Watching you. This is how it felt when we were first falling in love, you think. You want to hide it, keep this precious idea lingering in your subconscious for a little longer but there it is, glaring, almost, in the little smile playing across Lewis’ lips, the crinkle at his eyes.

“Just hey,” and this time he says it onto your mouth as kisses you, spins you around, lets you squeal into his cheek as the carpet and the lights twirl.

Behind you the click of his keycard and then he’s crowding you into the dark hotel suite. You feel up at his face, push your palms flat to his cheeks, stroke first his brow then his full lips with the pad of your thumb. He barely breathes as you move, only watching you from under his long, soft eyelashes.

“So beautiful, Lew.”

You don’t mean to say it, stopping your fingers when you hear your own words. So loud in the new space. But it’s dark too, and Lewis lets his head drop to kiss you again -- slow this time. First your temple, then each closed eyelid, your cheekbones, the tip of your nose. You sigh into him when he slots over your lips, when he traces his tongue over your front teeth.

“Lewis.”

“I know, I know baby,” he practically coos it into your mouth, big hands holding your face.

Then you’re scrambling to find the bed, tripping over suitcases and couches. Lewis wasn’t a messy person -- this weekend must’ve been hectic for him to be leaving his place like this. Or maybe he just doesn’t have anyone to keep it clean for anymore, a voice somewhere in the back of your mind adds. You push the thought away, focus instead on the dim shapes of the wall, the inky black patches that must be doors. You’re stumbling, but Lewis’ hands catch you, forearms banding over your middle. At your back, pressing up against you, kissing into your neck.

“I got you. I got you,” he murmurs, and the husky timbre of his voice has your thighs pressing together.

“Lewis,” you whine again, desperate for his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

Shuffling, hand out, Lewis leads you through the door and to the bed, spinning you round to face him before he’s pushing you back onto the soft sheets. With his help you lift and discard your dress and shoes. Already you’re itching to do the same to him, but Lewis only sinks to his knees and pulls you to the very edge of the bed. Such a familiar strength as he tugs at the back of your knees. Easy. Gentle. You could get used to this.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, trying to keep your head silent from now on. But the thought lingers as Lewis mouths slowly at your calf, kissing to your knee, your thigh, licks into the crease of your hip. You jump, watching him hide his smile against the soft skin of your stomach.

“Shut up.”

You let a hand fall lazily to shove at his cheek. He turns, catches your palm instantly -- fast, sometimes you forget how fast he is -- bites at your fingers. You squeak but let him hold you there, considering the flesh and bone. You catch the dangerous glint in his eye immediately.

“Lewis..”

He shushes you, his predatory focus on your fingers indivertable.

“Trust me sweetheart,” he says, and you know there’s no use fighting it. Slowly, as if still thinking the idea over, Lewis turns your hand over, pressing it towards your own core.

“Lewis, I don’t know-”

But already you can feel your pointer and ring finger pressing where you’re overheating, and Lewis is gazing between your legs like there’s something beautiful there.

“Let me do this,” and his voice is practically begging. Cheeks aflame, you can’t watch as Lewis guide your fingers in, in, in. You moan at the same time he does, squirming at the need for more, at the knowledge that Lewis is practically hypnotized watching you finger fuck yourself for him. He guides your digits out with a full tug at your wrist, and then bares them back again, letting the wet sound you make travel up to you.

“Lewis-”

No longer hesitant now, you’re needy for more, for him. But Lewis doesn’t heed any of your whining, only pushing your fingers back and forth at that same excruciating pace, practically eating you with his hungry eyes. He knows the slight humiliation of getting yourself off in front of him keeps you docile so he pushes it -- pushes you -- until you’re practically writhing beneath him. Until you surrender to him like a fever, until he is the only thing, the only shape your mouth can form. Then he relents, pulls your fingers out fully, lets you flutter in their absence, sucks the digits clean, grunts at the taste of you.

You sob his name again and then he’s locking your thighs open and licking you in one long stripe. You’re frenzied after that, breaking quickly into a white washed orgasm, bucking as he works you into you into an oversensitive mess.

“S’okay, I got you,” he’s whispering, moving up your body to handle your limp figure, letting you curl up boneless in his lap. He kisses out constellations on your shoulders, says: you did so good for me baby, so proud of you.

You don’t move for a while, eventually coming to trace the lines of the tattoos on his collar bones. The hotel heater kicks on, huffing quietly across the room.

“I always loved how you’d do that,” he says. Your orgasm has left you cold and you press further into the steady heat of him, the small patches of skin open to you through his clothes.

“Missed you, Lew. Really missed you.”

It’s all you’ll let yourself admit back to him, but he takes your face between his hands, enveloping you, hiding you from the rest of the world and kisses you so gently you think you’ll break.

“Lewis.”

The moon shines through the window and Lewis’ eyes are bright with it.

“Yeah.”

“Have sex with me.”

He sighs, slow and long because he knows this will change things. Then he’s kissing you again, lips delicate on yours, sliding over your jaw, searching out the sensitive spots on your neck. You’re gasping and Lewis is tugging off his shirt.

He goes for his pants but halts under your tracing hands. First the lion snarling, then you’re thumbing over the compass, the hard press of his solar plexus. You kiss him there once, twice, right at the center of him. Like you’re marking him, saying I was here. He shudders and shifts you off his lap to fully strip out of his cargos and briefs. He’s leaking and red, standing out from his stomach.

“Poor baby’s been so neglected,” you coo and he pushes you back into the mountain of pillows at the headboard. You’re joking, maybe. You can never tell with Lewis. He’s sizing you up too, one knee propped on the bed, hand absentmindedly stroking himself.

“Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He’s so much bigger than you, stronger than you, when he talks like this. Reminds you of him in the car, the crude way he’d sometimes talk to the other men in the garage. Your heart rate kicks up, just a bit.

“C’mere.”

He obliges, covering your body and face in shadow as he holds himself level with you. One hand on his bicep --- so solid, so heavy under your hand -- the other to the hot length of him. His mouth open and brow furrowed as he watches you notch him at your entrance. And then just you and him, watching.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

You look again at the tired warmth of his eyes, the smile lines you’d been lucky enough to frequent for years at a time. Lewis and you played around it, letting yourselves get distracted by the petty everyday stress of relationships, dating, fame, but here you were. Back in his bed, back in his arms, back in the same club. You and Lewis were just that: you and Lewis. You were destined to orbit around each other. Perhaps this time you could get away with colliding.

You kiss him, all the answer he needs to start pushing into you. You keep your lips connected until the stretch of him, the size of him, is too much, has you gasping into his shoulder. You’d forgotten the press of him between your legs, in your head, until he was shoving everything else out, only Lewis. Too tight, too big. Your breathing is ragged, tears finding their way past your clenched eyes.

“You can take it baby,” he says as he keeps baring into you, kissing at your tears. You leave red lines down his back. You feel dumb on his cock, on the way it takes up every space in your head. He kisses your temple when he bottoms out, shaking above you. Maybe you are too, but when you open your eyes Lewis is staring at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time, eyes wide. He leans down to kiss you, keeps his eyes closed as he whispers, “I love you.”

And then he’s pulling out, almost to the tip, not letting you reply before thrusting back in. The power in his hips knocks your breath away, only able to claw at his back as he hikes up one of your legs. The angle has you seeing stars with each new push of him, eyes near rolling back into your head as he pants over you. His chain -- the chain you’d given him -- dangles above you. Funny, you think dimly. Even with everything a part of you was with him always. It hurts your heart a little, but then Lewis is shifting, pining your hips down, forcing you to take even more of him and you think you’re tearing apart.

“Lewis, Lewis,” you’re crying his name, desperate as you cling to him, clench around him.

He’s murmuring something at your ear but you can hardly hear him over the growing crush in your ears, twin to the ever-tightening climax knotting in your core. Then: Lewis’ hand, coaxing at your cheek. He tips your face up ‘till you’re looking at him, eyes wide, vulnerable. For you, only for you. One arm is wrapped over his shoulders, the other coming up to hold him, to push back two braids working themselves loose. He’s mumbling it, I love you, over and over, so you kiss him to make him stop, to try slow down this beautiful spinning wheel you two have found yourselves riding.

You’re too hot below him, the heat of his body covering you, pressing at you. He slips his thumb down to circle your clit and you can’t help but buck into his calloused finger. Everything is too much -- Lewis urging you forward a frenzied peak, the stretch of him between your legs, the quiet way he moans into you.

The warm lick of his tongue through your mouth, the way he licks over your mouth like he owns it has you breaking. Finally you’re crumpling over his cock, crying out as Lewis fucks you through it. Eyes closed, you let yourself burrow into him as your senses mute, vision white. Each raw drag of him has you whimpering, keening into the over-stimulation.

“Can I-” he starts to ask and you nod, lock your legs behind him. Something pained flashes over his expression, something you want to kiss away, but then he’s cumming, so hard he stops breathing. You coax him through it. Kiss at his hairline, brow. He slumps into you, letting his whole weight bore you into the mattress. Pressed to the underside of his arm you just hold him, this beautiful creature you’ve found again. He lies there until his breathing settles and you think he's fallen asleep when he rolls enough to eye you -- one drowsy brown shape watching beneath his messy braids.

“Hi Lewis.”

He whispers back, gentle into the sheets.

“Hi.”

You’re smiling at each other softly, like this could be the start of something, like this might not be the end after all.

Slowly, like it’s the greatest effort of his life, Lewis heaves himself onto his back, rolling you with him. His cock is still inside you, but you know his cum will be leaking out soon, a dirty little reminder of what you let him do.

“Have to get up,” you tell him.

His arm tightens at your side, face suddenly closed off in a way you hadn’t seen all night.

“You gonna come back?” he asks.

You kiss the corner of his mouth, heart hurting at the question, how young he sounds saying it.

“Yeah Lew, I’ll come back.”

When you return from the bathroom he’s sleeping, chest rising under the thick hotel sheet.

You pad out to the kitchen, marble tiles cold against your feet. You try your best to find a glass without waking him, shuffling quietly through cupboards until you get the right one. Wincing at how loud the sink sounds in the high-ceilinged room. I love you, he’d said. Pushed the words onto your lips reverently, gifted them to you because he couldn’t keep them to himself. Oh, Lewis.

You watch out the high skyline of the apartment as the sun begins to colour the sky, sipping occasionally at your water, thinking.

Your legs are getting cold when Lewis comes out of the bedroom, eyes dark. He doesn’t notice you at first, only breathing hard in the open space of the hotel. He looks -- devastated.

“Lewis?” He starts at your voice, only staring at you for a moment before releasing a hard sigh, starting towards you and stopping abruptly at the edge of the kitchen.

“I thought-”

His voice catches and you cringe at the question in his speech, how his voice wavers.

“I thought you left.” His eyes, searching, scanning yours as you put down your water, trace around the kitchen counter to him. Stand before him, close, almost touching. You take his hand, look at the easy way your fingers connect.

“No, Lewis, I’m not leaving.”

Hope. It was what you’d seen earlier at the club and you knew if you found Lewis’ eyes you would see it again now. You’d made your decision -- made it when you first took his hand at the bar. You catch his gaze then, smile, just for him.

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

He’s smiling too, just the beginnings of it, eyes bright again. Over his shoulder the sun breaks the horizon, golden light washing the hotel.

“Couldn’t because I love you, Lew.”

#bigkeepup #lewishamiltonfic #lewishamiltonxyou #f1xreader #f1smut #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader

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hanasnx · 8 months

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dilf!ani has had time to come to terms with how he’s ur literal sex symbol. like when i think dilf it’s this quiet air of confidence - he’s experienced enough with you to know you’ll do pretty much do anything and now really wants to branch out. not necessarily jus kink wise but location like HE WILL GLADLY TAKE U ANYWHEREEE ANYTIME and bc he doesn’t gaf what people think atp he will abandon all social etiquette to have you. leave events early to make you please him otw home after you teased him in public, beg you to be louderr without caring if people hear. he’s jus a lil rougher round the edges like sometimes makes the slightest dad grunt sounds when he’s tired/standing up after being sat for ages lmao but like in a hot way !

of course ani always has that desperation seeping thru but he channels it better now, his praise is more reluctant: ‘didn’t believe you were gonna be able to sit here all by yourself while i was away but you’re here just as i left you, soaking yourself waiting for me - can’t wait to reward you’ *rewarding u means some shit like an aromatherapy massage he’s lowkk into the domestic stuff now*

like real quick smut aside he’s puttin in WORK around the residence.. deffo wearing an apron regularly to do like household maintenance shit and the apron stays on during..🫠 idek LoL also his few grey hairs turn u on 🦾

LUV UR WRITING SO V MUCH TY FOR UR SERVICE ALWAYS! never sent u anything before this but have truly admired ur work from afar :) <3

describing him as having a "quiet air of confidence" is so real anon. he's just the guy that has shit figured out, things are easier when he's around especially if the odds seemed insurmountable before he showed up.

this line: "he will abandon all social etiquette to have you" got me crazyyyyyy. because he barely relied in social etiquette his entire life, until he got older and rebellion wasn't as necessary for him to feel heard. he's mellowed out somewhat. and i say that very loosely.

"leave events early to make you please him otw home after you teased him in public" making you jack/blow him while he's driving you both home... or letting him stick his fingers in you while he's got one hand on the wheel.

that bit about him making noise when he sits down oh my god... sooo daddy im not even kidding. need him to be tired of my shit and tired in general.

the fact you added: "his praise is more reluctant" bcos that's so fucking true oh my god. takes more to earn his respect and his loyalty because of all the life he's lived. not much impresses him. you'd have to go above and beyond. ""you're here just as i left you."" hubba fucking hubba.

his gray hairs most definitely turn me on oh my fucking godddd no like you'd card your fingers through it, and his tired eyes would fall shut bcos of how good your nails feel. he'd slack a little while you're talkin sweet shit about how handsome he is... run the pads of your fingers over his impossibly soft lips.

"LUV UR WRITING SO V MUCH TY FOR UR SERVICE ALWAYS! never sent u anything before this but have truly admired ur work from afar :) <3" this is sooo sweet! thank you very much for submitting and sharing your thoughts <3 i'm really happy you love and admire my writing! i love reading that. also congrats on your first submission to me :) im so glad you decided to reach out.

#anon #indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!!#dilf!anakin #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker prompt

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disappointing-my-kid · 11 months

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So im gonna continue this prompt about Luigi being captured by one of Bowsers kids. Which i might as well just say Jr. cause hes the only one i could even have a chance of writing. There had been so many typos and errors in that like yall r brave and way stronger than I for finishing it. I wont write any spoilers for the first post up here but I doubt you will need to read the first one to keep up with this one.

Here you go @secretlyacantankerousseawhich @rfts10919 @tsukihimeyfan I have continued the post! Though this one is rather short and idk how well it’s written cause it’s 1am and I didn’t proof read lmao. Enjoy ya goobers

Slowly Luigi started to come back to the waking world. Eyes burst open and he snaps into a sitting position with a gasp. Instantly regretting it as his ribs scream in pain. He places one hand down to hold himself up and one gently on his middle. Eyes screwed shut as he sucks a breath in thru his teeth. He sits up as straight as he can to try and take pressure off his definitely broken ribs. Slowly he steadies out his uneven breathing and gently tries to relax forward into a comfortable sitting position. The moment the pain isn’t all he can think about he’s forced to remember the events that lead him here. Dressing up as the Princess, getting captured, being found out. His hand grips the sheets and he remembers Bowser punching him. Then his hand starts to tremble as the memory of being picked up. Then the pain. The thought of being crushed to death. The fear of never seeing his brother again. Realisation that he almost died hits him like a truck. He.. he almost died. Tears prick the corners of his eyes as a breathy laugh escapes him. He pulls his knees up as he moves his hand to his face. Another laugh escapes him as he curls in on himself. Tears started to fall freely as his body begins to tremor. Squeezing his eyes shut he quietly starts to sob. Hes going to die here. Bowser is going to kill him and hes going to die. Never to see his home, his friends, his brother. Nothing. His hand moves from his face to grasp his hair, slightly pulling on it.

Then he hears a door and freezes. His entire body going rigid, eyes snapping open once again. His breath quickens as he slowly looks up to see who entered the room. Then he sees them. Slowly his eyes scan their form, rising up till they finally make eye contact. Luigi’s eyes widening in horror. It was none other than the Koopa King himself, Bowser. Time froze as neither moved. Then Bowser lifted his hand and started to say something. He was cut off before he could get a single word out by Luigi’s scream. Luigi in his panic started to scramble backwards away from the new arrival. Breathing becoming sporadic as he ignored his aching body and moved to get away. Then he fell off the bed onto the floor.

Bowser rushed over to see if the man was alright. The moment he rounded the bed and came back into Luigi’s field of view set the man in motion again. He groaned as he tried to push himself off the floor. But froze up upon meeting Bowser’s gaze again. His face twisted in fear and pain. Only wishing to help Bowser once again reached out but this only set the smaller man off again. “no no no no no no” Luigi quickly tried to get away but ended up backing himself into a corner, between the wall and a side table. The moment his back met the wall he tensed. Breathing picking up as he tried to push himself into the wall, as if he would just slip through it. Not knowing what else to do Bowser once again tried to reach for the human. “no please dont please im sorry im sorry” luigi repeated. Luigi then pulled his legs up and turned his head away, trying to get even further away. Hyperventilating as his gaze met Bowser’s. Quickly he shut his eyes and waiting for the final blow. Only movement he made was from his sobs shaking his body.

Bowser stood frozen. Not knowing what to do. The longer he watched the more it made his heart ache. Sure he was fear and most of the time he enjoyed people cower but this. No this was different. He didn’t mean to hurt him like this. His anger just got the better of him and the human was just so fragile. He looked at his hands in horror at the idea of actually killing someone. They began to tremble. He was a monster. A- he was brought back to reality, eyes widening, as he heard Luigi begin to repeat ‘im sorry’ and ‘please don’t hurt me’ over and over. When he looked up from his hands the image he was met with took his breath away. He was curled into a ball with his hands gripping his hair like a life line. He did this. This was his fault and here he was making it worse. A monster. The words once again rang into his ears. He remembered Peach calling him that. Mario calling him that. Even some of his own subjects had said it. He never let it bother him before. But here and now. Looking at the broken, mangled man before him. He knew they had been right. He truly was a monster.

#bowuigi #Luigi #bowser #angst #uhhh #liz writes #my writing #I forgot how to tag again

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fandom-imagination-ss · 7 months

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🎃🎃🎃🎃 Halloween Imagine 🎃🎃🎃🎃

Imagine: Derek Hale your loving husband trying to single you to Not invite your parents to the pumpkin patch

Traditions were something Derek held close to his heart, considering he’s entire family was killed in a horrible fire that destroyed Not only just his family but he’s memories. It made sense that he would Value traditions even closer to his heart.

One Tradition was a Corny one.. your first date with the complicated sour wolf was going to a Pumpkin Patch, October 21. Close to Halloween but Not overly crowded. Derek still remembers how nervous he was to ask you out. you lived across the street from him. In the apartments. It was before Eli came to his life. You were a ray of sunshine. He instantly thought of Stiles when he saw you first. Clumsy and quick Witt. Honestly he was convinced for the first year of you living across from him that you were related to Stiles. During that first year he met SHE who Must NOT be named. He’s very Hot.. steamy Fling.. a passionate Fling that ended with her ghosting him for nine months and then dropping Eli at his door. And then running away. It was you who found the baby first. Derek was out helping the Shierff with a problem and you entertained Eli with the bit of things that was left for him. A few bottles, a bag of diapers nothing thrilling when Derek arrived. Home he saw you with a baby and he was stunned as you told him that their was a note.

he’s world spinner upside down once realizing he had a Son. And then he had to Figure out how to raise a baby. You having a baby sister. Who you helped care for, and little nieces and nephews you couldn’t Help but Help Derek.. especially after he tried waking up Eli.. the.Rule of thumb you NEVER wake a baby! You basically tackled him when Derek tried. It was then that Derek realized you were unconditionally Kind. You would make extra food for him to eat while you instantly helped with Eli and more times then not he came back from “work” which was him helping with a wolf pack or the sheriff to find you sitting on a rocking chair a old wooden one that you gave him to help With Eli. You would be holding Eli to you as you rocked him. But be dead asleep as Eli would be fast asleep. It was October 20th When Derek got the courage to ask you out. And he took you to a Pumpkin patch on the 21st. It was now tradition. The date was supposed to be just the two of you, but Derek’s sitter got sick. And you happily put on the “kangaroo do da’ as you called that that holds the baby to the chest. As a bundle. You always forgot the name and just called it that.

it was half way thur the maze as you were holding Dereks’ hand tightly as Eli was fast asleep in a little hat that you insited to bring. That Derek realized. That he was yours. Completely and utterly yours. It was when he realized. You were he’s Soulmate. The other half he was waiting for.

It was a Speical date and for the first few years. After dating and marriage, Eli would go with. But he was too “Old for that’ now to go with his parents so Derek would drag his favorite girl with you.

The last year of a family of three.. you were round. Pregnancy wasn’t what you expected… the “Glow” every talks about is just sweat. You were even hotter due to the wolf.. it had to be because she was a wolf. Because you were sweating buckets and the doctor Figured it was just pregnancy. Your local witch doctor figured it was due to the wolf gene. You were taking three showers if you coudl a day. Seven months. You were sitting at the kitchen table. Sitting resting your swollen ankles. You Knew you were being a absolute nightmare to Derek and Eli. So thru out the pregnancy you were leaving small tokens of “Sorry im a massive Beep right now”

Your Loving husband would refuse to agree with you that you were being a nightmare. Valuing his Life. Vs giving into the truth. Learning from how you snapped at Eli when he said you were hormonal… it wasn’t often he was scared of you- but that night he feared for Eli’s life. But alos. Took note.. Don’t tell you that your Hormonal he understood. The pregnancy was tough. Which was why he appreciated your kind little gifts. It made him realize the women he loved was still under the Sweaty mess that was you.

you were writing a ‘thank you” note to Eli for helping out with hte dishes. And giving him a 50 dollar gift card. When your phone rang. And Derek just walked in when you answer. It was your parents. Derek walked over kissing your head as you spoke, “Hey mom.”

“Hey sweetheart- your father and i were hoping to sneak down for the weekend and visit you and help out.”

Derke turned hearing that. He coudln’t help it. He’s ears were ringing when he heard your moms voice. Derek didn’t mind your parents.- they hated Him. He was older, a father to a Son that you instantly accepted as your own.. they could look passed ALL that but they still blame Derek for you two eloping. They weren’t overly aggressive to Derke. And they loved Eli and accepted him as a grandkid. But they were still stand of fish to Derek. Even after years later. Luckily they lived seven hours away and they NEVER Visit. You always have to go to them. So hearing them willing to drive down to them. Derek was stunned as you spoke, “oh- ugh.. we have plans we can’t change this weekend. Ugh.. what about next weekend?”

“what’s happening this weekend?”

You rubbed your head as you spoke, “we just- have plans…”

“Wait- is it that silly Pumpkin Patch you guys always do? Isin’t Eli too old for that?”

“Well- Yea.. but he’s going with his friends. It’s just Me and Derek going. It’s tradition. We always go on the 21st. .you can’ come next weekend.”

“Why dont we all go together?”

Your face went blank hearing that. As Derek shook his head mouthing out No, as he started waving his hands singling No. as your face flinched up , your hand went to your head as you said “ Sure… that be nice.” Derek leaned his head back trying nNot to groan out as you finished your chat with your mom. Derek stared at you once you were off the phone as you spoke, ‘what was i suppose to say? No? I can’t say No to mom!”

“that’s our thing!”

“it’s a family outing has ALWAYS Been a family date day.. their family.” “it’s the last one before Sabrina comes.”

“Who’s Sabrina? My child isn’t being named after a witch!”

Derek rubbed his face, “alright.. June..”

a common discussion in the house.. names for the baby.. you both tried the 2 veto’s thing. But that didn’t work, you then suggested Eli named his sister.. But then he came back with Prune which neither of you liked. You rubbed your belly, “Sasha.”

“No!”

You smiled nudging Derek with your foot, “you know— we could just put names in a hat and whatever is picked is it?"

He chucked shaking his head," no.. what about Felicia?"

" Felicia? So people can always say " bye Felicia? No!! No!"

This battle probably won't stop till the baby is born

#derek hale #derek hale imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #31 days of halloween imagine #halloween imagine #fandom imagine #imagine #TW imagine #derek

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