#oh crap i made a mistake

[toho-dunnoes]

Totally didnt make a TADC oc having only seen the teaser and not the pilot (ill watch it eventualllyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy)

[UPDATE: I have watched it twice and i may watch it a fifth time soon]

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus oc #oc #art #young artist #cup #original character #oh crap i made a mistake #OH WELL #enjoy #artists of tumblr #artist of tumblr

[somedaytakethetime]

I have been listening to this cover on loop for.. a long time now.. I should also preface with the fact that I'm incredibly emotionally unstable and tender today... 😶😶 so.... 😶 I have an abandoned idea and hopefully that'll come out right. How do we feel about fake dating, severe emotional conflict and also a bit of angst that will turn out well? Bit of.. hm... you know.. references... on the side.. 😶 I'm me.. everything is horny with me.. if you were around long enough you would have lived through it.. Warnings: Mild. Very mild. So mild that the water isn't even warm yet. But it's still a bit of non appropriate content for the childrens so.. you know the drill.. Word Count: TOO EFFING MANY! HOW MANY!? SIX THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND NINETEEN MANY! YES I'M A CRIMINAL AND I'M SORRY

"Are we good friends?" you lift your head up from the papers you're going over and look at him, he's standing there serious and waiting for an answer. "No, I hate your guts. Why do you ask?" you say with an eye roll that shows you're joking, and he rolls his back, "I'm serious. Answer me. Are we good friends? Are we close friends? Are we on that level of friendship?" you look at him suspicious.. why is he asking all of these things? And how do you answer? Are you? You haven't been working here very long, it's long enough that you've grown comfortable with everyone though, you have to deal with all these men on a daily basis and you've learned how to handle each and every one of them. You like him the best, mostly because he's quiet and when you have to deal with so much testosterone? You want quiet. Plus, he's unfairly funny too. He's not the most extroverted, keeps to himself, but god is he hilarious once you get to know him. And you have. You've gotten to know him very well, you've probably grown closest to him out of everyone of them. In part because of how respectful he's always been, and in part because.. you shake your head and look at him, you suppose that.. "Yes. I think so? I would consider you a good friend, but do you consider me a good friend?". You list it out mentally: you text often enough, you have inside jokes, you feel comfortable with him, he's warmed up to you, you're totally comfortable to tease each other and bicker a lot. Yes, he's a good friend. But what if.. his voice breaks your pondering again, he's serious and quick, "Of course I do. That's why I need your help." oh... this isn't going to end well for you, is it? He's asked for help before.. it never ends well for you...

"I can't believe that I'm actually doing this.. I don't even think this is allowed! Do you understand how much trouble I'll be in if anyone finds out!?" and he just shrugs and laughs it off, scans the racks of dresses again and looks at a few before shaking his head and putting them back, "I'll cover for you the way you cover for me. You'll be fine, no one will fire you." and you scoff again, "Staff isn't allowed to date within the company! It's literally in my contract!" he just looks at you, smirking smugly, "Well, good thing that we're not dating." and pulls out another dress, looks at it from all angles, presses it into your hands and says "Go try this one on, I think the colour and cut will suit you." you sigh, exasperated, but walk away and do what he tells you to. Why did you agree to this again? Oh, yeah, because you're ''good friends''. And ''good friends'' help each other in times of need. You can still hear his pleading voice and you feel contrived. Yes, good friends help each other with mild tasks. Not with faking a relationship! You can't even legally do it, your contract states just that! You think... you can't remember exactly but you're pretty sure that's what clause 18 means.. too many clauses to remember.. you ignore clauses and huff as you take your clothes off and try the dress he handed you. He's going to a family wedding, needs a date and he wants you to fake being with him. Why can't he just take another girl that won't lose her job over this? Oh, yes, because he doesn't want to, right. "I'm just tired. I don't want to date. I don't want a relationship, I really don't, my last one was awful.. and that was years ago, I just don't care for this anymore. I want my family to stop bothering me about being single, I just need you to fake it this once with me and I'll never ask a favour again! Swear!" and he did look cute, holding his hand over his chest like a little boy scout, you'll give him the fact that he's adorable at times. Even if he would likely choke you for calling him adorable. You take a deep breath and stand up to face your reflection "Holy shit." this is.. not the dress you would have picked for yourself. It's gorgeous, yes, but there's a lot of chest.. tasteful, but you don't usually show your cleavage this openly.. can you even wear black to a wedding?? You open the door and walk towards where he sits, "Can I wear bl-" and he shakes his head, "Yes, you can. Trust me. At least three of my cousins will wear black. Plus, it'll match my suit the best and I think we should match. That's something couples do, no?" and you just look at him.. "I.. guess?" you really aren't sure, you've never been serious enough with anyone that you were matching for weddings. But in any case, it's his money. He's buying this dress so.. you'll take a pretty, expensive dress when offered.. besides you look kind of nice in it. Maybe... '"Stop being insecure." you look up at him, realising that he could notice you fussing and trying to hide yourself, "You look beautiful. I like how this dress looks on you. You hide yourself too much.", and you just look at him. You didn't know he.. noticed you like that. You don't think any of them notice you, that's your intention. But he did anyway. A warmth starts spreading in your chest and you just turn back "Okay, we'll get this one. It's your choice anyway, Mr. Moneybags, you know your family best." and quickly walk into the dressing room to change back.

"Oh god, why did I say yes again?" you're shaking, you're so nervous. You're walking through the pebbled path as you make your way into the giant private garden his cousin rented for his wedding. You're terrified of meeting his family. You're going to be introduced as.. what? Lord knows what. He has barely told you anything this far besides "I'll pick you up at home, be ready when I get there." and "You don't need to stress, my family is incredibly relaxed and they don't care for pomp. You'll see." sure.. you'll see... you'll see that apparently his cousin is also incredibly rich! Or at least it looks that way. God, you're going to make a fool out of yourself in front of all of these people... you should leave, you can fake sickness, you can-.. you can feel his hand engulf yours. A massive, strong hand suddenly snaking around your trembling one. His thick fingers force yours apart and lock them with his. It cuts your breathing for a second and you look up at him, "Please, stop that. You're safe. I wouldn't ask you if I thought anyone would be rude to you. My family will love you, I'm sure my mother will lose her mind. My father isn't a monster, even if he looks more intimidating, he'll be delighted with you too. He's been telling me to settle down for years.. they'll love you. I trust you completely and I want you to trust me too." he's looking into your eyes and you feel the urge to cry suddenly, you don't know why, there's just something there.. "I know it doesn't always come across that way, it's my temper, but I really like you. You're a good friend, I trust you. I've open up to you a lot more than I've opened up to some others I've known for years. I would have never asked if I didn't think we could fake being a couple well enough. Don't be scared, I'll be right here and you're safe with me. Okay? I don't need you to do anything major. Just need you to act like you don't hate me and that you would, if bribed and begged enough, sleep with me on occasion." he says it with humour, trying to make you laugh, but there's no humour in you right now. There can be none. Because you don't need to pretend that you don't hate him. And you definitely wouldn't need to be bribed into sleeping with him. You'd do so gladly. You'd even offer first. 'You want him' there's the traitorous voice that has been haunting you lately, whenever he's near, and that voice is correct. Which is a thought that scares you even more.

You're not okay. You're just simply not okay at all. You have drank enough that you've let go of all your inhibitions. You're watching him dance with his cousin's bride, lost his jacket and tie a while back, his sleeves are rolled up and he's the freest you've ever seen him. He's beautiful. He's so handsome. And he's hot as hell too. The reception has been beautiful, the speeches were lovely. His whole family nearly dropped in shock when he introduced you to everyone as his girlfriend. His mother shrieked in delight. His cousins did too. Even the bride, who has known him for years and watched him grow up, came over and gave you a huge hug, "Oh, I'm so happy to meet you!! He's a dog for hiding you from us, but I'm glad that you're finally taking him off the streets.. he's been evading love for too long." and she side eyed him, called him a sneak for keeping you hidden from them and he pouted and told her to get off his back. She treats him like a baby brother and it makes him huffy when he's treated like a child. All of his older cousins do, and they've ribbed him all night about not telling anyone that he was dating 'such a gem'. You're a gem. You've never been called a gem. Or beautiful this often either. His mother has hugged you and danced you with like she's known you for years. His father, tall and intimidating, has smiled softly at you often and asked you to dance with him too. They've been lovely and keep telling you how happy they are that he's finally found someone. "You're such a lovely girl, I can tell, and.. he deserves it so much. He's been alone for too long, he deserves a girl that will treat him right this time." it's tumbling in your head. What happened with his previous relationship? Something awful that everyone keeps avoiding but mentions in passing as something to never be spoken of openly. It must have been horrible if it put him off of dating for so long. You focus on him again, dancing with one of his baby cousins now, tiny little toddler that twirls her dress when he spins her gently. Your heart beats it's way up to your throat and you feel it threatening to come out. 'God, don't... you're faking this, just don't. You don't even know for how long he'll ask you to fake it, nothing makes sense about it.. but just.. don't.. be a good friend and don't.' yet.. you still swoon and sigh at the way he lifts his baby cousin up in the air and she squeals with delight, says his name in that baby tender way children do, and melts into his embrace as he kisses her a million times. He looks straight into your eyes suddenly, smiling as he kisses this baby, and you feel your heart again. You smile back at him, fondly and in love, and you lie and tell yourself that you're faking it.

"I need you to be free this Saturday, please tell me you are." you nearly jump out of your skin when you hear his voice behind you. Drop all the supplies you'd been grabbing from the cupboard and turn around, startled and a little angry, "Can you stop doing that!? How do you walk this quietly!!?? Are you a spy for some special organisation!??" and his hearty laugh turns your legs a little into jelly, "Are you free on Saturday or not, girlfriend?" your traitorous heart speeds up at being called girlfriend, you ignore it and ask him suspiciously, "I think so? Why am I being asked this.." and when he gives you that angelic smile you know you're in trouble again.. "My mum has invited us for lunch. Dad's cooking.", you give him a neutral look, "I promise he can cook! I swear men in my family are great cooks! It's a cultural thing.", and you watch him get smug, your blood rushes faster in your veins, but you choose a frown instead of swooning, "Do I really have to..", he looks a bit taken back by that but says softly, "I wouldn't force, of course, I would never do that. But.. we are dating. And my parents want to know you better. You have to remember that I did sort of just drop this on everyone out of the blue.." he looks dejected, you've never seen him this way, you don't like how it makes you feel.. "I don't mean that I don't want to, I'm sorry, but I'm just scared.. what if they don't like me? And what if I put a foot wrong? At the wedding it was easy to pretend. I wasn't the focus, and you cut all the questions down. But.." you say his name softly, "This time is different. They'll expect me to answer questions too. What if I don't know what to say and give us away?". he does it again.. his hand reaches for yours, holds them gently while his thumbs softly stroke your skin in a soothing gesture, "Hey, I'm right here. I'll be with you the whole time. I won't let you drown. We can do this together, I know my parents. They will only ask you questions about yourself, you can answer that, I'll answer what needs to be said for us.", you nod, his voice is so soothing, it makes your whole body relax, but you still say, "You can't always be doing that. We need to work a plan for how we met, how we started dating, all the details. We both need to know exactly what to say and it needs to match. We can't wing this. If we're going to pretend, we need to do it well.", he smirks at you, amused, "You're so cute. Always so obsessed with details, always want to do every little thing right. I love that about you.", your breath catches your throat and you watch him get closer to you, "Why don't you come over for dinner tonight and we'll discuss the details? I'll cook. I swear I'm good at it!", you barely find the breath to say a quiet 'of course' as his name is called from down the hall, he smiles, kisses your cheek with all the casualty in the world, and says "I'll pick you up at seven, girlfriend!" and starts to stroll away, suddenly looks back and adds, "By the way.. I like that dress, it makes your eyes sparkle. You should wear it more.". Leaves you standing there, heart hammering in your chest, thinking 'why did I say yes again?'..

He wasn't lying. He can actually cook. It's a simple meal but it still made you feel warm inside when he said "I'm making my favourite for us, I hope you'll like it.", before you watched him cook dinner for you. He doesn't let you touch anything, just told you to sit and relax, "Let me handle everything.", and you grabbed the glass he gave you and walked to his couch. You don't always drink, but he has impeccable taste and this wine, something you don't ever think much about, is very light. "White wine goes best with what I'm making, so I hoped you'd enjoy it." it tastes.. expensive. You don't know how you know that, but the bottle is so non-descript that it has to be expensive. His house has to be expensive too. You don't recognise a single thing in it, but the minimal decoration, neutral colours and the feel of the fabrics just says 'yes, he really paid several amounts of money for this grey couch'. You're afraid to spill wine on it, so you get back up and go sit across from him at the bar stools by the island. You take small sips as you watch him, relaxed and free, in just a basic black tshirt and grey joggers. 'Even that's expensive' you notice the Boss logo so that one you know for sure, but regardless of the price.. it's not really the logo you're appreciating. It's the way his body looks in that tshirt. The way his butt looks in the joggers too when he turns around to grab something from the fridge.. "Do you have any allergies?" you look up at him quickly, he definitely found you starring at his butt if the smirk is any indication, and you turn pink, say quickly to hide your embarrassment, "Not that I'm aware.", his voice is thick with amusement, "Let's hope we don't find out tonight." and goes back to cooking. "How did we start dating?", you ask emboldened and he doesn't skip a beat or look surprised, "I'm going to be honest, I think the best way is for us to say that we just started to grow close at work and one thing led to another. There's no need to give a lot of details, the less we say, the better it'll benefit us in the end.", and you nod, take a longer sip and stay silent. He's right. The less details you give to anyone, the easier the lie is to keep up. It's the logical, correct approach. And if it's the logical, correct approach.. why are you disappointed that there's no romance to it?

His body is warm against yours, his lips are soft as he kisses your neck. His hands are roaming your body and you moan openly when he sinks deeper, legs tightening around his hips, you cling to him and melt as he whispers in your name in your ear. You're so close. He's so good, he's always so good at everything, of course he'd be good at sex too, but.. he's just so good.. you want him so badly, you want it all so badly, you whine and moan and beg and.... wake up. Startled that your alarm went off. Nearly fall out of bed and look around, confused and frantic, trying to find out where you are. Home. In your bed. Alone, as usual. 'Right..', you sigh and get up, start to get ready for the day as the images play in your mind. You had a lovely dinner, you sat on his couch talking for far too long to the point you lost track of time and he even offered to let you sleep over "I'll take the couch, you can take my bed. I'm a gentleman, always." you can hear his voice so clear and that made your stomach twist again. You didn't want him to be a gentleman.. so you shook your head and told him you'd rather go home, made up the excuse that you can't sleep unless it's in your bed just to hide how disappointed you were. He's.. honest. That's the problem. He's been honest the entire time. He asked you a favour. Asked you to fake a relationship with him just for a while until his family stops bothering him and then he'll inform them you broke up, go back to being solitary as he's content to be. He told you that, in those exact words. And.. it stung. Even if you know that it shouldn't. Because, the truth that you are having a harder and harder time ignoring is: you like him. You had a crush on him before you started working there, you knew who he was. Of course you did. And working closely with him just made it worse. This is making it worse. Because now you get to experience what would be like to date him, yet.. you can't date him. No one can even know about it at work, granted he doesn't seem to care. Everything about this can, and will, end up horribly. Especially for you. You go to work feeling like a zombie, do your tasks mechanically, can't stop having flashes of your dream. How warm he felt, how good he felt. It makes you feverish and you're out of sorts all day. You're distracted and you keep reading the same line over and over until his voice breaks your trance "Are you free on Saturday or no? You never told me." you just nod, absent minded, "Yes, I am. Where do I need to be and at what time?", you're colder to him than he's used to and it makes him frown a little, "I'll pick you up as usual. Would you like me to buy you something to wear? I'm not insulting you, just offering if you'd like a new dress or a new outfit just in case.", that hurts your fragile ego given how you're feeling, "I have enough clothes and they'll suit just fine, thank you. Your parents surely won't be mortally offended to see me wearing high street, not if they're no pomp people the way you said.", he scoffs ,"No, they won't. No one cares about branding in my family, but thanks for thinking that poorly of us.", "Thanks for treating me like your poorly dressed sugar baby in a need of a make-over.", his eyes turn cloudy and he says, curtly, "I wasn't trying to imply that at all, I just made an offer. Given that you're doing all of this for me, I just thought it would be nice if I did something for you.", it offends you more, you interpret that as a being seen as a gold digger, "I don't need your money, I make my own. I can buy myself clothes, even if not with the price tags you can afford. And besides, I don't need anything from you, I agreed because we're good friends, remember?", he just nods and walks away without a single word. And you get up, walk to the bathroom, and lock yourself in one of the cubbies, sobbing quietly, for a good 15 minutes.

The ice has melted by the weekend and you both play the part beautifully. His parents truly are delightful and you do love spending time with them, they're so kind and sweet to you. You warm up more and more around him as the meal goes on and by the end you're sitting in his lap on the couch. It feels so natural. To have his hands on your body, his breath brushing your hair, to have him nuzzle you and place kisses on your temple from time to time. His father's words haunt you even when you're back home, all alone, "I haven't seen you smile like this in so long, son, I'm so happy you found each other." It makes it so much harder. Everything makes it so much harder. Because it starts a flood. The lunch is only the beginning. You start to spend more and more time with him after that. Get invited to go out with his friends and their partners, get invited for family birthdays. You have to watch him be himself around the people he loves the most, pretending to be his loving girlfriend. And you are. At some point it becomes less fake and more real to you. Something changes in him too. He's so free, so tender and touchy with you, his hands always seeking yours, nuzzling you, kissing your face in front of others. You do everything but kiss. Until you're pushed to. Another cousin gets engaged. Yet another family party happens. You're lightly tipsy, keep getting roped into doing shots with his mates. They like you, and you like them too, they're hilarious and they tell you all sorts of embarrassing stories about your "beloved" in his youth. You're just.. happy.. and he's happy too, holding you close, his body tightly pressed to yours, as you dance. You're looking into each other's eyes, you've never wanted to kiss someone as badly as you want to kiss him, and suddenly his cousin, the oldest one, shouts from across the room, "Will you just kiss the girl already!?" and he tells him off, laughing, while you turn bright pink and freeze. Suddenly all of his cousins and mates start shouting, hooting and encouraging him, "Come on, kiss her!", "Are you going to wait until the wedding day to kiss her in front of us!?", "You've never been this shy before!" and he wants to play it off, make sure that you're comfortable and don't feel forced, he whispers softly in your ear "Ignore them, they're being dicks.", but when he looks back at you.. your hands just wrap around the base of his neck, slide up into his hair, pull him down and you kiss him. Hooting and clapping erupts around you but you don't care. You're kissing him. You're actually kissing him. You feel on fire, you've never wanted anything so badly. You melt into him as he keeps kissing you back, hungrily, and it makes you burn even hotter. He pulls back so fast when his cousin, the engaged one, shouts playfully "Get a room!" and you're mortified that you just put on a show. He isn't. Just tells him off and says "You wanted me to kiss my girlfriend, didn't you? There you have it!" and you shiver all over at the mention of girlfriend again. You can't stop looking at him for the rest of the night. You're so into him. You're so desperate. You need him, you just can't play pretend anymore, you need more kisses, more touches, more everything.

It's not your fault that you fall into bed that night, it was simply inevitable. There was so much sexual tension between you after that kiss, or at least you felt it that way. He drives you home and you can't help when you kiss him at your front door. And the way he kisses you back just as quickly, just as desperately, just as willing, has you beg him "Come in. Please.". He does take you inside, you're tipsy in a way that makes you stumble a little, but not in a way that inhibits your judgment. It doesn't matter to him because he refuses to touch you like that, but.. you didn't stand on the same high ground as he did. Touching him made him feel something too, it turned him on and made him break his resolve. Falling into bed felt so natural, so right. Like it was meant to be all along. Feeling him, skin heated, above you as he whispered low in your ear, touching you, kissing you everywhere, sinking deeper and deeper with every thrust, making you arch up into him and moan and whine, his name falling freely from your lips along with begging, driving you both to the brink of sanity and watching it all fall apart as you collided into each other. Two bright balls of fire no longer capable of holding back. It left you euphoric, needing more and more, and he fed off of that energy. You fell apart together more times than you probably should have and you ended up falling asleep on his chest, exhausted, breathless and deeply sated. You dreamt about it in your slept.. imagined the beautiful life you could have together while sleeping safe in his arms... that's why it was extra crushing when you woke up all alone. Naked in your bed, cold in your sheet, with only a small note on your bedside table saying 'I'm so sorry'.

You're focusing extra hard on your work. You sobbed, felt like something was ripped from you, pulled yourself together and got dressed before leaving for work. 'It's fake. It meant nothing at all. You're an idiot. You're the one that fell in love. God, you're so stupid. This is all your fault. Why did you even say yes!? Stupid stupid stupid'. You copy some more lines and scan your work for errors. You might have messed up on other areas, but you're still professional above all. "Hey." his voice feels like a bucket of ice water now, you're no longer happy to have him around. You lift your cold eyes up and pierce him with a glare, "May I help you?" and he at least as the decency to look embarrassed, "I'm so-" you hold up a hand and cut him off, say coldly, "You can cut the crap. I don't give a shit. You can leave and go back to your training. This was it. I'm done, I don't care if you need help. Tell your family that I broke up with you.", you can see panic in his eyes. Good. You want him to hurt the way you're hurting, "I didn't think-" "No, you clearly didn't. I'm glad we agree on that. But none of that matters now because this is over. You got what you wanted and I got what I wanted, so we can both part ways now. Just inform your family that it's over and tell them that I did it. I want them to think I'm the bitch instead, that will make you look better. See? Aren't I nice to you, good friend!" your voice drips with sarcasm and he suddenly turns cold, "Of course. Thank you for your help." and just turns his back and walks away. It's a good thing that the bathroom is so close.. because you're going to hide in the same cubbie as usual and cry all through lunch again.

It's needless to say he feels sick. This isn't what he wanted at all. He freaked out and he knows. But that's exactly why he wanted to talk to you. Because.. he loves you. The previous night was just too much for him. He's been trying to push down all these feelings that have been bubbling inside him and he couldn't push them any longer. He didn't mean for anything to get so far, but you were so.. enticing. He wanted you. He just couldn't push at that anymore. You willingly wanted him too and he gave in. Even for a night, he had to have you, he needed to know what it was like to truly have you. He just wasn't good with the aftermath when all his feelings came crashing down on him and you were sleeping peacefully, no longer an anchor to help guide him on what to do. He responded the way he always does when he's afraid: by growing cold. He left you, all alone, in your bed and only wrote the cowardly note to appease his own conscience that he was doing things to protect you. He's been broken for so long that he doesn't know how to be whole again now. She messed him up, it skewed his views of himself and he didn't want to bring that into your plate. But he's fucked up even more than he would have if he'd been honest and faced the truth. He loves you so dearly, you've brought him so much joy.. he turns the volume higher as that song starts to play, drives home, sings along and feels sorry for himself as he remembers all the moments you've shared. All the times he wanted to kiss you, all the times he's wanted to confess he was falling for you, all the times he's wanted to say 'What if it was real? What if we stopped pretending? What if we truly did this?' but silenced those thoughts instead. He just wanted to talk, wanted to finally expose himself, pull the curtains back and show you all that's him, the rawness that he feels when he's with you. You're like wearing a woolly sweater against his naked skin: it was uncomfortable at first but it brought him so much warmth that he started to miss it even before taking it off. Having to face being in a relationship wasn't easy, it was painful even and he took control of it all on purpose, but as he started to taw out and let you take the wheel it just became easier. You're not like her, you're nothing like her, and you woulnd't hurt him. But he hurt you. It was so easy to love you.. you did it so honestly... with such a freedom and sweetness.. and.. he's in love. And he's waited so long to be in love... he's been so lonely.. he can't. He can't let you go. Not when he's grown this attached to you. Not when you gave him hope.

The incessant knocking on your door is pissing you off. The delivery guy needs to be joking right now, he can't be in much of a hurry. "Fucking hell are you late for the train!?", you swing the door open and it's not the delivery guy, "Yes, I am." he pushes into your house, holds your face in both hands and kisses you fiercely. Resists all your pushes, kicks the door shut behind himself with his foot and doesn't stop kissing you until you grow pliant in his hands, just the way you were the night before. You moan into the kiss and he immediately breaks from you, "I can't tell my parents you broke up with me.", you want to throw him out of your house, you're going to argue but, "In fact, I can't tell anyone that. Because you're not breaking up with me. I'm not letting you.", and he kisses you again, this time even longer, slower and sweeter, and you feel your brain completely dissolve and disappear. "We're not breaking up. We can't and we won't. I fucked up. I was a fucking asshole for leaving like that. I'm sorry. I panicked. I'm in love with you and I panicked.", needless to say that's not what you're expecting to hear at all. You stand there, looking at him like a fish out of water, and he continues, words pouring out of him like the rain that's finally pouring outside after threatening the whole day, "I love you. This started as a way to shut up everyone, to distract them so they would leave me alone again after I told them we broke up and that I just am not meant to be in relationship. But that's a lie. I wasn't mean to be in a relationship with her, but I'm mean to be in one with you. You humbled me. You showed me all these things about myself that I'd never seen. You showed me so much love. You showed me that someone can want me for me. I saw you fall in love with me. I pretended I didn't notice, because it scared me so fucking much. She left me completely fucked up, but you showed me that it doesn't have to be that way. You're honest and you're real, you made me see that I could be too. I want this to be real. I know I've fucked up things with us but I'll spend the rest of our lives correcting this if you let me. So, no, I can't tell my parents that you broke up with me. Because I never even got the chance to really date you, we can't break what never had the room to start."

You swallow and ask softly "What did your ex girlfriend do?", and he inhales sharply, "Fiancée. We even got engaged... because I'm an idiot. She didn't.. she just..", you realise that this is deeper and harder for him to open up about, you take his hand, the way he's done with you many times in the past, "I'm here, remember? You're safe with me. And I'm right here.", you watch him nod slowly, for a split second he looks like a child that's trusting you with all he has, and he sounds more hurt when he speaks again, "We met through a friend. I thought she was the world. I don't know why but it was like... immediate, you know? I just felt like she was what I'd been waiting for all my life. And god, I was so wrong.. but I didn't notice. I trusted her and I did everything she asked me without asking questions. I was eager, I wanted a wife and a family, I don't even know why I was rushing.. probably because I got so swept up in every dream she sold me. But she didn't love me. She just wanted the fame, the cameras.. she wanted the lifestyle, she wanted all this shine.. and that's not the man I am. But I offered it to her still. I proposed because she kept showing me rings and mentioning everyone around us marrying.. I didn't even notice they were older than us, I just started to feel like I had to do it too. We had everything. We got all the details, set all the dates, did the whole rehearsal.. everything. Only two days before we were supposed to marry.. I found her fucking my friend, the same one that introduced us. Turns out they'd been doing that all along.", your heart sinks when he tells you this, you want to find whoever this girl was and hurt her even more than she hurt him, you hold his hands tighter, "I'm so sorry, that's so cruel. You deserve so much better than that." "She told me I didn't. She had told me over our time together that I'm too stubborn, too difficult, too hard-headed to love.. she made me believe she was the only one that could ever put up with me and love me..", you push into his space, hold his face and say softly "You aren't. Yes, you are stubborn. Yes, you're hard-headed and at times that makes you difficult. It's pointless of me to lie to you, but you know what? None of it matters because you are worthy of love. You're easy to love when you're yourself. You're worthy of so much love, because you give so much of it back too. You made it so easy to love you.... I tried so hard to just pretend, to keep it to the lie, to make sure nothing was getting out of control but.. it was so easy to fall in love with you. That scared me so much..", you're so close together, you can feel each others breaths, "You hurt me so badly this morning. I felt my heart being ripped out of my chest. I carelessly let myself fall in love with you and you did that..", his eyes get watery, his voice sounds quieter and shakier, "I'm so sorry. I truly am. I was so scared, but I never meant to hurt you. Please let me make up to you. Let me fix this. Don't push me away now, not when I've finally opened up and allowed you inside. I need you. I don't know what to do without you, it sprung up on me so fast and I'm so lost.. let me fix it, I can fix it, give me a chance. Let me do things right this time, let me show you the love you deserve. Let me make up for everything. Just.. you are my happiness, you're in all of my dreams. Give me a chance to try again, give us a chance at an happy ending. Please.". You're looking into his eyes. All the vulnerability in them for you to openly see. You feel everything he feels right now, as if his emotions are your own, and you nod. Your voice comes out softly, "Yes. I love you. Yes.", and he kisses you like you just made all of his dreams a reality. And maybe.. you have. You'll have a whole life ahead to see if to that.

#i made this far too dramatic.. #but oh well welcome to my brain i like strong emotions #as always.. ignore mistakes if you spot them and.. #I'M SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG I WRITE EVERYTHING OKAY!? I CAN'T SHORTEN NO MATTER HOW I TRY #YOU *HAVE* TO SEE THE VISION THE WAY I SEE IT TOO THUS SO MANY WORDS ARE REQUIRED #so many words for all this crap in the end anyway... sucks to be y'all reading this and i'm sorry in advance 😭 #adventures in a clown's dreams #creative writing with Sunny #football imagine #football one shot

[mariinaworld]

PORNSTAR

Pornstar! Natasha Romanoff x F! Reader

Summary: After a drunken night at a nightclub, you discover that you have signed a contract that will change your life.

WC: 6,2k (sorry)

Warnings: SMUT, masturbation, riding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex. Nat has a penis.

MINORS DNI MASTERLIST N.R

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

A/n: I'm really thinking about writing a part.2. idk

Your head felt like it was going to explode, as you tried to take another breath without having the urge to stick your entire stomach out.

Why did you drink so much like that?

Nice question, Y/n, No good answers 

You open your eyes again, feeling the fluorescent light in the bathroom slowly burn your corneas. But it was necessary. You had already thrown out everything you had drunk the night before, an your stomach felt raw, your throat was burning and you were afraid that if you tried to vomit again, blood would start coming out of my mouth.

You slowly stand up and flush the toilet, looking in the mirror for the first time that day. Holy shit, you looked terrible! Your eyeliner and mascara had created a black bag under your eyes, your red lipstick was smeared around your mouth, making you hate this twenty-four hour crap.

Well, your appearance was shit both on the outside and inside, his whole life was shit.

“End of story for you, Y/n!” You mutter to yourself, looking in the mirror.

You decide to stand there, seeing the image of your own destruction, it wouldn't do any good. Then you remove all your makeup and brush your teeth. Soon after, she takes off the short dress she was still wearing and goes under the shower, feeling the cold water hurt every pore of her hot skin. But it was necessary, you had to get rid of that nasty hangover

After showering, you leave the bathroom, finding Wanda lying on the sofa in your room. She was as bad as you were, but that made you smile a little. You really had the best friend in the world

After getting dressed, you take two headache pills and head back to your room, refusing any thoughts of eating since your stomach was still wanting you to look like you were sick. You lay down on the bed and close your eyes, feeling the slow and steady throbbing in your head, as unconsciousness took over you again.

“Let’s wake up, Princess .” Oh no... Wanda was jumping on top of her bed, making her sleepy body bounce lightly on the mattress.Hurry up, Y/n, we have to talk about last night, you naughty girl.”

You open your eyes and look at her, you sit up and let out a long sigh, feeling your head throbbing much less than before.

“Naughty? Why?" You ask leaning against the headboard. She sat on the bed and looked at you, giggling. Okay, that was an inside joke and you were lost there. “Speak quickly, I don’t have my whole life!” You say feeling a little nervous. “Such a bad mood, dear... Is that because of the hangover?” Wanda asked, laughing. You just roll your eyes and wait. “Ah, be serious, Y/n... Are you going to say you don’t remember last night?”

“I remember, of course. I remember stuffing my face with everything alcoholic. In fact, never let me do that again, please!” You say, making a face as you have slight memories. “Okay, what about the rest?” “What’s left?” You ask again

She looked at me with her smile slowly fading.

“The contract and everything Y/n…”

“What contract?” Okay now you think things got confusing

Just as Wanda was about to open her mouth to respond, her cell phone rang loudly, making you both jump in bed. You picked up your cell phone from the bedside table, seeing the unknown number on the screen. With a frown, you answer 

Call on...

“Miss Y/n?” you hear a female voice. "Yes, who is it?" You ask with a frown.

“Hello darling, this is Carol Danvers from PornHub. Do you remember me?"

PornHub... What the fuck was that? Upon hearing her silence, Carol spoke again. “We met yesterday at the Dance Hot Club nightclub... You were accompanied by your friend and we talked for a few hours. Do you remember me now?”

“Um...I remember, of course.” You let your voice sound as polite as possible. But it was obvious that you didn't remember. "What do you want?" You ask feeling a strange feeling. “I wanted to know when we can meet to schedule your first scene.”

"My first... What?”

“Your first scene, baby. With our biggest star of the moment, Natasha Romanoff.”

“I don't... Who is Natasha Romanoff? Scene... I don't understand anything, Mrs. Danvers.” You say, just wanting to know what that crazy woman was getting out of that conversation.

“Just Carol, darling. Anyway, we signed a contract last night. You were so excited to record with Natasha. I don’t think you remember everything.”

You caught a glimpse of Wanda getting up and picking up the small wallet I had brought the night before. She took out a white paper from inside her, which was folded and crumpled, picked it up and opened it, pasting it in front of you.

“Um... One second, Carol!” you ask, taking the paper.

Okay, it really was a contract, you think to yourself. A contract with a porn film production company. It was written that the new hire would be paid for each scene, she would act with the actor/actress that the producer chose. Before each scheduled scene, a blood test would be done by both actors, and it was essential that the contractor had birth control and proved this to the producer. The contract had the duty to compensate both parties, if something went wrong, all labor rights would be fulfilled, as soon as the contract was signed by both parties (contractor and employee).

Everything became even more absurd when at the end of the sheet you saw Carol's signature as contractor and your signature as contractor. Wanda's signature was there as a witness to the deal.

“What the hell is that?" You think out loud. Hearing Carol's laugh on the other end of the line. She was having a lot of fun at her expense, it seemed.

“Honey, I see you’re a little confused. Dance Hot Club is my nightclub. She is linked to PornHub, which is my production company. Few people are aware of this connection, I believe you are one of the many people who didn't even imagine it. It turns out that I'm quite observant, I love seeing all my regulars and whoever I think has potential for a film, I call to talk to me. You have potential and I know it. I talked to you and you accepted. You signed the contract and now we have to schedule not only the scene, but also the blood tests to see if you have any STDs and the birth control test, which you said you have.”

Your mind stopped at the part where she said you had the potential to be a porn actress. Was that woman crazy?

“No fucking way!” You say it out loud, regretting it later. “I mean… I’m not going to make a scene!”

“Y/n, you signed the contract. I don’t know if you have it in your hands, but there is a point where it shows the value stipulated for breaking it.” she said in a serious tone.

You take the contract and search it from top to bottom, finding a paragraph that she had said. One hundred thousand dollars.

That was all you would have to pay if you broke the damn contract.

"You are crazy? One hundred thousand dollars in breach of contract?”

“It’s my rights, darling.”

"You can not do that! You... You took advantage of a moment when I was fragile and completely drunk! I can sue you, you know that?”

"Of course. Y/n, you might be a little high, but I have nothing to do with that, honey. The contract was signed and that's what matters. When can we…”

You hung up 

You wanted to kill yourself!

“Is there any way you can stop pacing from one side to the other? It’s making me dizzy.”  Wanda says 

“How did you let me sign such rubbish? You are crazy?" You say almost shouting. “How did you let me do that?!”

“Now, Y/n, it’s not the end of the world... It’s just a scene with the hottest star in the porn world!” You look at Wanda confused, you didn't imagine she would meet this Natasha and you have no idea who she is.

In the end, you and Wanda spend the rest of the day watching interviews, reading about life and the main thing, seeing how Natasha acts in front of the cameras and holy God, you freeze. She was nothing like you imagined, the redhead's beauty certainly exceeded any expectations you could create, one of them was, Natasha has a penis, It should really shock you but somehow you're more turned on by it. In the video you are watching now, Natasha punches another actress firmly, making her scream with pleasure while at the height of her orgasm, Since Natasha has already made her cum three times in the same video, is this possible? When the video ends, you release the breath you were holding during the entire video. Wanda looks at you with a “you lucky girl” look but also with a “I feel sorry for you this is over” look.

The only thing that goes through your head is that you won't make it. But you also think that a hundred thousand dollars is way beyond what you can afford, so there's only one option left. Picking up the phone again you dial the number that called you an hour ago.

“Hey Carol… Let’s get this over with.”

Time Skip

PornHub was located in a luxurious building in downtown Los Angeles and, from the outside, it looked like just another one of those steel and glass buildings. The atmosphere in the hall does not represent in any way what was happening inside those high floors and you admit that you were curious not to come across a screen with pornographic images, or with various sexual objects displayed on the walls.

A smiling blonde woman welcomed you and instructed you two catching the elevator and go straight to the twentieth floor, where Carol 's office was. Wanda was completely anxious and you were increasingly irritated as you pushed your sunglasses closer and closer to your eyes. You just wanted to get rid of the whole situation.

On the twentieth floor, another smiling blonde accompanied you to Carol's office, which was decorated entirely in shades of white and beige. Well, in her office reality hit her in the face, while several paintings with covers of films produced by the producer adorned the walls and some awards shone in shiny gold on the shelves.

“Y/n, it’s good to see you. I love punctual people.” she smiled and pointed to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, darlings. Would you like to drink something?”

You looked at Wanda and she shook her head, as did you. With a wave, Carol allowed the smiling blonde to leave her room.

“So... Did you bring everything I asked for?”

You, trying hard not to roll your eyes, opened your bag and took out the white envelopes you had brought with you. She took them and took their exams, calmly evaluating them.

“Perfect, Y/n, just like you knew it would be!” she smiled even more. “Honey, you used to be more talkative.”

“I’m mentally training myself to be able to moan enough in your film.” You say smiling ironically.

A loud laugh invaded the entire office, while a door on his right side opened. Natasha Romanoff.

She was beautiful…

“What an incredible sense of humor, Carol. I love girls like that!” Natasha said, without wiping the smile off her face. “I’m sorry, ladies, I was in the bathroom and I couldn’t help but overhear.” approaching, she stopped next to you and held out her hand. “Natasha Romanoff. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/n. I was curious to know who the girl was that was giving my dear friend headaches.”

“Y/n.” You say shaking the redhead's hand quickly. But she surprised you by kissing your hand lightly. “It was not my intention to give anyone headaches. If your friend had followed my suggestion, none of this would have happened.”

She looked you up and down, a crooked smile taking over her lips. Her mouth suddenly went dry and, holy shit, you felt her intimacy throb.

“Good thing she didn’t follow your suggestion.” She smiled completely and turned around, stopping next to a completely open-mouthed Wanda. “And who would you be?”

“Wanda Maximoff, um... Just Wanda.” She said, giving a huge smile.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Wanda.” Natasha said and walked away, pulling out the chair and sitting next to you.

“Well, now that my two actresses are together, we can discuss everything more clearly.” She said, smiling slightly. “I know about Natasha’s objections, now I want to know your objections Y/n.”

“My... What?.” You ask confused.

“Objections, Detka... What do you accept or not do…” Natasha says looking firmly at you.

“Ahh…” you mumble.

What did you agree to do? What did you not agree to do? Damn, you didn't know how to do that!

"I will help you." Natasha said, catching his attention. “Anal sex?”

"Never did it. And I certainly don’t want to face a bunch of people!” You say, frowning. Just the idea made you feel sick.

“Okay, Carol is writing everything down.” She said, looking back at you. “Giving and receiving oral sex?”

Holy shit, what an uncomfortable situation you think.

You're not shy, but talking to a woman I've never met in your life about whether you give or receive oral sex is too much for you. But everything is fine… A single scene, and all of this would be buried deep in your memory!

"Yes." You mutter, wanting to look away, but simply not being able to, Natasha had you completely trapped.

"Excellent." she smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Any problems with touching your body or touching my body somewhere…?” You just shake your head no.

“Well, I guess that's all. Are you free tomorrow, Y/n?”

“To... record the scene?” Carol stated, shaking her head. "I am…"

"Perfect! Ten o’clock in the morning here, right?” You agree, letting out a sigh as you stand up.

You shake hands formally and before you can do the same to Natasha, she takes your hand and kisses it again. Come on, was she charming with all the women she worked with? You wonder.

Not that it was any of your business, of course.

“I'm looking forward to tomorrow, Detka." she smiled and shook his hand. "See you tomorrow"

"See you tomorrow " looking at her one last time, before turning your back and leaving her presence, which, in a way, tormented you and made your panties damp.

Natasha could define you in a single word: hot.

Beautiful, full mouth, a delicious ass and breasts that were certainly natural. Not to mention your charisma and incredible sense of humor.

Natasha was sure that you would make a great duo and I couldn't wait to be on the scene with you below her, or on top, any position 

Natasha parks her motorcycle in the company's garage.

“Fifteen minutes early? You’re always punctual Nat, but fifteen minutes early surprises me.” said Carol when she saw Natasha getting out of the elevator.

She had a smile on the corner of her lips and her eyebrow was arched. That woman knew Natasha very well and that was terrible.

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll pretend I don’t know why you arrived early. Y/n is in dressing room number 8, just so you know.”

Carol winked at Natasha and walked away without giving the redhead a chance to respond. Natasha knew that you were a little anxious about the scene you were going to do in a little while, but what woman on earth wouldn't be? With a smile playing at the corner of her lips, the redhead heads to the dressing room and knocks on the door, receiving a "come in" in response.

You were wearing a white robe and your brown hair was loose, looking more casual. Natasha suppresses the urge to look her up and down and enters, closing the door behind you.

“I came to see how you’re feeling, Detka.” Natasha says, walking over to you and sitting next to her on the couch.

“How kind of you.” You rolled your eyes, making the redhead laugh. “I don’t understand the joke, Miss. Romanoff.”

“Just, Natasha, Y/n. And the grace is in you. Relax, okay? I don’t bite… Unless you want to, of course.” Natasha says, looking straight into her eyes.

You bit your lip, something Natasha is sure you at least knew you were doing. She affected you, and that made the redhead very happy.

"You are nervous. I want you to know that you don't have to stay. I know this is very new for you, I know you wouldn't want to be here, but now that you are, try to enjoy the moment.”

Natasha approaches you and takes your hands, kissing them one at a time. “I won’t leave room for you to think about where you are, or your surroundings, Y/n. When I'm inside you, or touching you, kissing you, there will be just you and me. You’re going to have to trust me.”

"Trust in you? I at least know you, Natasha.” You muttered, looking away from the redhead's.

“But this is the opportunity to get to know each other. Look at me, Y/n.” you turned and looked at her suspiciously and Natasha fought not to laugh. “You are a beautiful woman, sexy as hell and you will do great. Trust me and you will come out of here floating. I’m going to make you cum, babe… Countless times.”

You looked at the redhead intensely and soon after, a loud, sarcastic laugh escaped your lips, as you took your hands away from hers and placed one in front of your mouth.

“Are you going to make me cum? Seriously, Natasha! Do you really think that all women in the world are stupid enough to believe that a girl cums in a porn movie? Or to the point of believing what you said in that interview, that you always make a woman orgasm?” You shake your head, still laughing. “I'm not like your... Fans, or whatever you call women who almost lick the ground you walk on. I don’t believe this ridiculous story, okay?”

“Um... So you've been researching me?” Natasha asks, leaning back on the couch. “That's great, I really love acting alongside or meeting, girls who know who they're dealing with. This means, Y/n, that what you read is completely true. I have a lot of baby baggage and that baggage has brought me a lot, a lot of experience.” Natasha gets up, but before turning to leave, she stops in front of you and leans in, making you feel her breath on your face. “I'm willing to show you all my experience when you're beneath me, while I fuck you and make you moan my name loud and clear.”

The redhead felt you catch your breath and she knew at that moment that you weren't such an easy woman to look at. And all of this was only making the redhead's lust for you grow in a way that she couldn't control.

Natasha's words still echoed in your mind, as you looked at yourself in the mirror and felt a flash pop next to you. Photo after photo was taken of you, while wearing lacy shorts and a blue blouse, clothes that showed enough, and still left gaps and gaps for women's imagination who roamed the internet in search of explicit naughty.

There were only a few minutes left before entering the scene and you felt your skin crawling every second because of your nervousness that was exceeding all your expectations of remaining calm. 

“Y/n, are you ready?” you hear Carol's voice.

You look at her and nod quickly, following her to the film set. The scene would be "romantic". At least that's what Carol implied when she explained what would happen. Natasha and you would pretend to be a couple. They would be sleeping and then she would "wake up" and start touching and kissing you, until you woke up and the whole act would happen.

You were seriously considering the possibility of sleeping forever.

Before you got on set, Carol gave you a long-sleeved shirt to wear. The blouse covered your waist, but in the bust it was so wide that it almost left your breasts exposed. These typical pieces of cloth that actresses wear in pornographic films, not to say that they were completely naked.

When we finally walked onto the set, you looked around and saw that you were in an all-white room, decorated with little touches of brown and gold. There was a large queen size bed in the middle of the room, with a white comforter and pillows.

It looked like a normal room and you were relieved that you didn't have to record those scenes where you're a naughty secretary who has sex with your married boss.

You saw Natasha talking to a blond man on the other side of the set and Carol called her over. She was wearing white pants, a blouse that left her belly exposed and... That's it.

That was it and she was deliciously sexy.

She is very beautiful and for a moment, in all the anger and frustration of being there, you had forgotten about it.

“Are you ready, darling?”

“I'm always ready, you know.” Natasha smiled and came close to you, putting her arm around her shoulder. Her body was warm and she smelled incredibly. “And you, Detka... Ready?”

"No. But I have to do this, so…” You shrugged, trying to convey an indifference that you were far from feeling.

Natasha laughed and stood in front of you, while Carol spoke to her again about something that her mind simply didn't want to decipher. Your entire brain was commanding your eyes, and respecting her wishes, you took a good look at Natasha, looking for an erection that wasn't there.

I mean, don't porn actors come into the scene with hard penises? You think.

"Excellent!" Carol said louder, catching her attention. She turned to everyone and clapped twice, making the entire set go silent. “Guys, is everyone ready?” after a unison yes, she smiled. “Perfect, let’s get started!”

ACTION!!!

An instrumental song with a sensual rhythm began to play softly throughout the set, while you kept your eyes closed and felt Natasha's rhythmic breathing on your neck. Her fingers were intertwined with yours, while her hands rested on your stomach.

The two of you really looked like a couple and, with a lot of effort, you managed to stop the rapid beating of your heart. Everything was silent except for the music and a few minutes later, you feel Natasha move next to you. You feel the mattress sink a little and you think she sat up, while you struggled not to move your eyelids.

The redhead lifted your hand, intertwined with yours, and kissed it, before releasing it and began kissing your lap, moving up to your neck, where she gave it a lick that made you shiver.

“Open your eyes, Detka…” Natasha murmured so softly, you thought you were hearing things, before she bit your earlobe.

You wince all over because of the unexpected bite and open your eyes slowly, trying your best to convey that you were actually sleeping, when everyone else knew it was a lie.

Natasha's face hovered over you, and she rubbed her nose against yours before touching my lips gently, her hand caressing your entire face. It felt like a touch of pity on his lips, until she deepened the kiss, slowly slipping her tongue into his mouth. You feel every nerve ending inside you go on alert as you kiss back and thread your hands through her soft red hair.

You couldn't tell what was really happening, or answer why your body was responding to hers so quickly, because your brain made a direct connection with the lower part, while you felt Natasha's hands groping your breast through the thin blouse you were wearing. Your body was hot and her tongue circled your mouth in a hurry, giving you no chance to think about what was happening around you.

Or if there was someone around you.

With dexterity, she sat on top of you, at waist height and placed her hands open on top of your belly. Her gaze only left yours to follow the path your hands took, lifting your shirt until she quickly took it off you. You had to fight hard to suppress a sigh when she bit her lip with an explicit and naughty desire written in her expression.

“Beautiful…” moaned the redhead, as her fingers closed around your nipple and squeezed it making it hard for her.

With a smile on the corner of her lips, she passed the palm of her hand over her engorged peak and an eager moan escaped your lips, when the sensation made a direct connection with her clitoris. You weren't a virgin, by God, of course not! So why the hell was his body responding to a porn star's thrusts?

Why were your panties so damp, that the wet feeling between your legs was becoming agonizing? And she still hadn't done anything! Nothing compared to what your son-of-a-bitch ex-boyfriend had to do to get you aroused in the slightest.

You wanted answers, you really did, but at that moment it was impossible to find them. Especially when the redhead bent down and ran the tip of her tongue over your nipple, looking straight into her eyes.

“Look at me, Y/n... I want your eyes on me, I want you to watch me while I suck your divinely delicious breasts!” muttered the redhead softly again, and you squirmed as you mentally asked yourself why she spoke so quietly.

She smiled sweetly at you and bit your nipple hard enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Holy shit, since when do the hairs on the back of your neck stand up? How damn hot was that?

A loud moan left her lips and she took the opportunity to suck your nipple hard and open your legs to place herself between them. Something hard, big and warm settled right over your clit, and Natasha moved, making you realize that all of it was her cock on top of you, covered only by the thin fabric of the cloth pants she wore. You feel your intimacy pulsate, as she cups your breasts in her hands and sucks them quickly, jumping from one nipple to the other, and moving on top of you, rubbing her member against your clit

Unconsciously, you began to move your waist, needing, needing just a little more friction. She smiled at you and nibbled on your breasts once again, before moving her mouth down your body, running her warm tongue over your belly, but you can't make a sound when you realize where it would go with all that descent down your belly, hips and waist.

With her lips moist and open, she walked along the inside of your thigh, while her ring finger touched you in circles on top of my mound of Venus. You close your eyes and feel two licks on your crotch, forcing you to take a deep breath. It was just going to be oral sex, you knew that, so why the hell were you so nervous?! And so damn excited?!

You didn't know how to answer.

I don't think you would even know how to respond to your name, when Natasha pulled your clitoris into her own lips with a single, precise suck.

An electric shock spread through your veins, while a rush of adrenaline made you jump onto the bed and look at her. Natasha had her green eyes glazed over your face, telling you with just one look to keep looking at her.

As if you were capable of doing anything other than watching her as she sucked your clit into her own mouth without any mercy towards you, spreading a hitherto unknown pleasure throughout your body. A loud roar escaped your throat as she released your pulsing nerve and circled your entrance with the tip of her tongue.

Your hips immediately began to match her rhythm, as loud moans escaped your lips. Everything was summed up in that moment. There was nothing around you, nothing capable of making you stop, nothing capable of making Natasha stop.

“Delicious... Completely delicious.” The redhead smiled, kneeling on the bed and reached out to you. “Give me your hand, hmm?”

You look at her and without even thinking twice, you extend your hand, placing it over hers.She leaned in just a little and licked the tip of her index finger, then lowered her hand and placed it on your mound of Venus.

“Touch yourself. I want to see your finger playing with that beautiful pussy, babe…” whispered the redhead 

Sure, it was obvious that you masturbated, but you did it in the comfort of your home, in the privacy of your room, on your bed. Not among a bunch of people, because touching your own body is something... Too intimate to be shared like that.

But you were so excited by her gaze, by the volume her erection was causing, that you only realized you had obeyed her when a moan escaped your lips, your index and middle fingers circled your clitoris with impressive speed, while Natasha looked at you fascinated.

“That…” the redhead said softly again, now pulling up her blouse and revealing her large, wonderfully juicy breasts and pulling the string that held her pants at her waist.

In less than a second, her giant erection was in front of you. Her penis was even bigger in person, it was really... It was really big. 

The redhead's member passed her own navel, the veins were fully dilated, the glans was red and shining with pre-cum liquid.

But Natasha had such great self-control, that at least it seemed like she was that excited.

“No, babe... Don't stop...” she murmured in a more audible tone, placing her left hand over her fingers, while her right hand began to touch her cock from top to bottom, slowly..

She made a face of pleasure and encouraged you to continue touching yourself. You were absorbed into your bubble again, forgetting the world around you. Your moans mixed and you felt your insides tighten, your orgasm close, your body screaming for release. You were almost there, when Natasha suddenly removed her finger from where it was and fell into your mouth, surrounding her clitoris and putting three fingers inside you opening, finding your G-spot in less than a second.

Holy shit, no one has ever stimulated you so much. You tried to hold on, to endure the pleasure, to make it last, but it wasn't possible. Your hips moved automatically, your cum being released one after the other to that strangely hot woman, who had given you the strongest orgasm of your entire life.

“I want more… Give me more.” Natasha roared with her mouth on your intimacy, going back to sucking you vigorously.

Could you even breathe, and did she want you to cum more? The worst part is that her body no longer responded to you, yes to her. Only to the redhead's stimuli. She spoke, sucked and you came again, your intimacy pulsing so much that it hurt, your clitoris sent electric shocks through your body, your leg squeezed it, because you wanted to close it and it just wouldn't let you!

“Natasha, please, please!” You whimper, squirming.

But she didn't stop. You feel and see her mischievous smile, her tongue out, just the tip, surrounding your clitoris with irritating slowness. Your body jumped off the bed and you came again, your liquid ending up directly on the older woman's tongue. Tears escaped your eyes and you were ready to beg her to stop, when she just placed a light kiss on your clit and hovered over you, touching your face with your fingertips.

“Oh, Y/n…” she murmurs softly, wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry, Detka… I still have more orgasms for you.”

You open your mouth to try to say something, but breathing was the only thing you knew how to do at the moment. Natasha smiled once again and brushed her lips over hers.

“Look at me and feel, just look at me.”

Even if you wanted to, you would never be able to take your eyes off hers. Natasha trapped you in a black captivity, and she kept you there, without showing anything, until you felt it. The tip of her member passed from your clitoris to its opening, the sex becoming luscious with the two liquids, then the glans began to make room. She was big, and she was gentle, coming in slowly, little by little.

You sigh with pleasure as she continued in her absurd self-control, totally focused on your gaze, thrusting and thrusting into you, stretching you so much that there was a point when you thought there was nowhere else for it to go. But she surprised you, rolling around and making you move with her, sliding further inside you until her pelvis touched your clitoris.

“Tight, hot, delicious... This pussy was made to be eaten by me, Y/n. Fate just gave us a little push.” murmured the redhead, starting to thrust into you.

Her member moved in and out at a pace that gradually increased. Her cock hit every tiny nerve inside you, never in your entire life had you felt so complete having sex with someone. No one had ever hit all those points she was hitting. Your pussy contracts around Natasha's cock, massaging her and receiving all the pleasure in return.

This woman was made to fuck you...

“Faster…” You ask in a moan, letting your hands run down the older woman’s back.

She smiled, and suddenly, turned around on the bed, leaving you on top. With my hands on your waist, Natasha started to push you up and down and soon found a rhythm that gave both of you pleasure. Your orgasm was close again, as you saw her bite her lips and let out soft moans. In this case, you were the scandalous one and your screams became louder when you came again, bouncing on the thick and oversized member, which occupied you completely.

Without letting you stop, Natasha pulled you by the back of your head and kissed your mouth, holding you with one hand. Supporting herself with her feet, she started to thrust inside you again, making you moan into her lips.

By God, you were too sensitive, and you were about to cum again.

“N-Natasha...I'll go again, I'll go...” you murmured against the redhead's lips, but your voice came out louder than a simple murmur.

“Come on then, Detka... Come for me.” Natasha practically growled, thrusting faster, tirelessly.

You let yourself go again, losing your ability to reason, while your body shook and your cum wet the redhead's dick inside you. You went too limp, as you only realized that Natasha had laid you down on the bed, when you saw her body hover over you again. With her lower lip between her teeth, Natasha rolled inside you, pulling you to an orgasm you could never achieve. Being a good connoisseur of the female body, she just continued to thrust, faster and faster, making you understand that she was in search of her own pleasure. You smile at her and touch her breasts, squeezing her tender nipples, making her throw her head back and moan loudly.

You missed touching a woman's body, it's much better than a man's. Smooth, soft, the most pleasant flesh to squeeze, the smell, the touch... Oh, especially the touch.

Romanoff moaned louder for the second time and thrust into you so hard that your lower belly wobbled.

“Fuck, Y/n...fuck me...like this!” she moaned loudly, still looking you in the eyes.

You tighten around her, putting pressure on her member and then, she came. Her hot, thick jets hit you with full force, wetting you all inside and she didn't stop. She continued to moan and scream and call your name like a clamor. After a few minutes, she calmed down and leaned closer to you, placing kisses on your breasts, your neck and finally, your mouth, as it comes out inside you and you feel your liquids spilling onto the mattress. You allow yourself to feel her tongue caress you tenderly, your hands roam her body and, for a moment, you imagine that you were a couple who had just made love…

CUT!!!

"Damn, perfect! Cut!”

And then, Carol's voice entered her ears. Natasha jumps away and everything around her gains image and sound, while reality takes over you again. 

Yes, you had just filmed a porn film with the most famous star of all time.

#natasha romanoff #marvel cinematic universe #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha marvel #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romonova #natasha x you #natasha x reader #gp natasha romanoff

[jessilynallendilla]

So I just watched Panda Redd's new video about how the Joker accidentally made this genius chess move by killing Jason and can't be touched by Batman

so what if Bruce was just a little more unhinged by it

Joker needs funds kidnaps Bruce Wayne takes him to a hide out

Joker then makes the mistake of being alone with Bruce and in the course of insulting the Bats, insults the memory Robin (Jason Todd)

Bruce, who for the last few months lost his son, almost lost Dick from it, had Barbara shot and paralyzed, her father his friend James Gordan kidnapped and tortured, and has been taking out his grief on the criminal underground because he couldn't get Justice for Jason and it started this spiral, just snaps and goes full John Wick on his ass

Bruce: Go ahead and tell, but no one will believe you. Getting the crap beaten out of you by Gotham's Brucie Wayne, who would lose in a fist fight with a fly? You'll just seem like even more of a joke than you are.

Hours later Bruce turns up a few miles from the warehouse in a new suit from a hidden stash and explains to the police how Batman rescued him

Police see the bloody mess of the still somehow breathing meat pile that is Joker and accept it because he was going around bragging about killing Robin and Batman has been getting more violent towards criminals lately honestly the guy had it coming

so like a few years later the Joker tries to rob a gala and freezes when he spies a familiar face Bruce with his stupid Brucie smile that doesn't touch his eyes

Bruce: Oh did somebody hire a party clown?

#batman #bruce wayne #batman au

[shojizbae]

Rave Baby

Spencer Reid x Reader

After a long case, some of the team pitstops at your apartment, and Morgan takes the liberty of searching through some memories. He comes across some scandalous photos that light a fire in Reid.

This last case was challenging. To make it worse, the power had gone out in DC due to a blackout. With a chirp, I told the team that I always had a generator and that we could cool with some coronas in my fridge. Hotch had declined, stating the necessity of returning to his wife and son. I had thrown open all the windows and cranked the AC, attempting to push out all the hot air. With my permission, Derek had distributed beers from my fridge and found a bag of chips.

A battery-powered radio was located, and my CDs were run through to find something to unwind with. With a sigh, Emily sank onto my couch and sipped her beer.

"Uhh, I can't tell you how nice your apartment is."

"Yeah," JJ groaned from the corner, holding her hair up and sticking her face in the AC vent. Derek was still looking through my belongings when he came across a Scooter CD.

"Well, well, well, where did a girl like you find this type of music?" I looked at the album cover.

"Oh, that's from my college days." I tried to dismiss it. This isn't the sort of stuff I would share with my coworkers.

"Really? Let's go ahead and pop this in."

"No don't!" I tried to launch it at him before he could open it, but it was too late. A few photos I took the night I bought that CD slipped into his lap.

"Woah ho ho!" Spencer, who had been content to sift through my shitty romance novels, peaked his head up like a prairie dog at the sound of Derek's chuckle. "What do we have here?" He held up one photo, and I hid behind my beer bottle.

"That was years ago," I whined

"What is this?" Spencer came to the group, attention fully peaked

"It's (Y/n). At a rave." Spencer snatched the photo out of Morgans's hand like a cat but Emily nearly yelled

"Shut up, let me see." she slammed her glass bottle on the table and grabbed one of the photos from him

"No way," JJ stated, following Spencer into the circle to look at the evidence. "I could never imagine you at a rave. I've seen you get upset that you left your clothes in the washing machine."

"They'll get moldy," I whined

"Holy shit. Where was this?" Emily inspects a photo of me in a bikini, fluffy leg warmers, and a matching bucket hat. "Look at your butt where were you hiding this." She makes an attempt to check me out, but I sink further into my couch

"I don't know, I was never sober in the 72 hours around a rave."

"Oh yeah? What did you take?" Morgan begged

"All sorts of crap, mostly hallucinogens. My rave mentor told me music is better when you're high."

"So why'd you stop going?" Emily asked

"I grew up."

"You grew up?" JJ asked, putting the photo on the table

"Yeah," I rubbed my hands up and down my thigh and sighed. I wasn't entirely ready to trauma-dump the team, but here I was. "My uncle, who basically raised me, passed on Thanksgiving in the sophomore year of my bachelor's. Hallucinogens made it easy not to grieve, and loud music blocked my ability to think. I would dance around and tell everyone that 'tonight was the night,' and I was 'finally free,' but I would just see him after a while. He would ask me, 'Why are you doing this, my dove?'. I couldn't ignore him anymore, so I just stopped. Put all my teeny bikinis in a box and put it past me." I cleared my throat, realizing that I had put a damper on the mood

"We could play the CD. I think I'll still remember the rhythm." I switched in the discs and let the synth radiate through my living room. Immediately, I felt the groove, letting it carry my limbs airily around me. I felt myself disconnect as the beat continued to pump. Before I could drift away wholly, Emilie's voice brought me down to earth.

"You packed all this away? That means you still have it?"

"Yeah, in a box in the back of my closet." before I could discover my mistake, she darted to the back of my apartment, and JJ took off with her.

"Oh hell, I gotta see this." Derek got up and dropped the last of the photos. Reid dutifully packed them up and sifted through the photos, stopping on one.

"What did you find, Spence?" I crawled toward him slowly. I gasped at the photo. My Rave mom, Zoe, who was only 4 months older than me, and I were posing together. He sifted through the images with it and stacked them. I gasped at the image. The photo on the top was of Zoe throwing up a peace sign, showing the neon pink paint on her palms, and a green hand was playfully on my throat. Both of our bodies had been splattered with neon ain't, but noticeably, I had two big hands brink on the triangle bikini we wore. One pink, one green.

The picture below was of Zoe and I very dramatically kissing. Zoe had made smudged hand prints on my ass. I had a leg up on her hip, and you could see drool and lipstick around each other mouths.

"I hardly even remember that night, and I thought it was trendy to act gay." I pulled the pictures from his hand and returned them to the case. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Why are you apologizing? Y-you had fun."

"Yeah, but you're my colleague. This is embarrassing and you probably are ashamed of me."

"Actually, I'm jealous. In college, I had no friends and didn't go to parties. I was, I am, a loser. You had fun."

"Did you not hear my spiel about using drugs not to think?"

"Yeah, but you were hot." That shocked you. He was only two beers deep, and Reid was spilling his secrets.

You laughed in shock.

"Spencer, you can't say things like that." I slapped at his chest playfully.

"WELL!" I could hear Derek's strained voice. "This!" he put the giant plastic tub on the floor next to us. "This is one heavy bucket of slutty clothes."

"I want to try something on!" JJ greedily popped the snaps on the cover. With giggles, JJ and Emily started pulling out bikinis that looked like they were made out of spider webs.

"Woah ho ho!" Derek giggled, holding up a low-rise thong. "I hope you wore a jacket."

"Alright, that's enough!" I grabbed it from his reach

"Hey, could I borrow one of these?" JJ asked. "Will has been asking for something new."

"Yeah, but don't borrow it. I don't want it back." I made a face of disgust

"Yeah, I might want to just wear one around my apartment?" Emily held something balled up

"Take as many as you want. I won't wear them again. I should sell them. I could finally go on vacation."

"Woah woah woah, if you sell these, what will you wear on vacation?" Derek joked

"Clothes." I snatched another piece of hosiery from him. My knees cracked as I stood and got another beer from the kitchen. "Now, get out of my panties." I swatted him with the bottoms as I walked by

by some stroke of God, the lights flicked back on, and across the street, I could see the surrounding building come back to life.

"Well, I've got to get to my house before my ice cream spoils." Emily stood and collected a few pieces of fabric.

"Yeah, and completely unrelated. I have to call Will." JJ juts out her lip in an admission of guilt. They snuck out the door, giggling and tucking crazy fabric in their bags.

"I should get going too, wonder boy. You need a ride home?"

"No, I should be fine. There's a train in the next hour." Reid was still immersed in the photos.

"Well, don't bug her too badly." He left with a wink

"Why are you still looking at those? They're ancient."

"The date on the back says 1998, making you 20 years old. You're 28." Finally, he puts the photos down. "I'm having a hard time picturing you going to a rave. You only read sappy novels from the seventies. I saw three copies of Tuck Everlasting on your shelves." All the talk from my coworkers and the five beers in my system made me more than angry and bold.

Stupid ideas were my biggest export when I was inebriated.

"Well, I know the FBI has kept me in shape. I'm going to my bedroom and try these on." I gave a coy smile as I took a handful of sets and strutted off to the back of my place.

"W-what do you mean you're going to try them on."

"I've gotta see if they still fit."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #raver girl

[hanasnx]

baby daddy jason for when the one parent-teacher conference the sweet unassuming teachers like “mrs. Todd” and you’re “uhhh we’re not married”, but Jason, despite not being up to the commitment, likes the idea. He definitely would not correct the teacher like you immediately would.

Actually idk where I was going with this I had an idea but then it kinda stopped soz

MINORS DNI 18+

You’re not even sure how it happened. In your opinion, it’s best that BABY DADDY!JASON TODD stay far away from you and your daughter. Maybe he sifted through your mail the last time he snuck in, maybe he intercepted your calls, maybe he followed her to school to add himself to her emergency contacts—all completely feasible when dealing with someone so meticulously thorough and annoyingly committed. You’re face to face with him outside your daughter’s teacher’s door.

“What are you doing here?” you seethe in a whisper, avoiding a scene.

Jason’s face twists in feigned confusion, pointing to the flyer on the wall. He reads out its words as his finger follows along, “‘Parent teacher conference.’” He points to himself finally. “Parent.” A smug curl forms on his lips, standing tall in outsmarting you even though it’s not what you asked.

Your nostrils flare as you suck in a breath. Unfortunately, Jason is exceptional at getting on your nerves. You wonder how he managed knocking you up. Advancing on him, he mirrors you, meeting you in the middle as you engage him, “Jason, I don’t want you here—“

The door swings open, and you jump in place, leaning away abruptly. Jason coolly inclines back, shoving his hands in his pockets, he’s got nothing to hide. Your daughter’s teacher greets you both with a cheerful grin, beckoning you in. “You made it! Come on in, come on in.” You exchange a warning glance with Jason, but you clutch your purse strap and duck in while he trails leisurely after.

The meeting goes well, the teacher rants and raves about your daughter, especially about her art skills, showcasing that talent with pictures of it. You open your mouth to speak, but Jason beats you to it, “Takes after her mother, huh? What do you know?” he says with pride, and you witness a genuine grin on his lips as he leans forward to take a closer look at the mess of glitter and stickers in the teacher’s hands.

Your heart skips a beat, and you fiddle with your hands in your lap. One reason you try to stay away from Jason is because of times like these. Makes you second guess your decision to end things with him, and that’s exactly what’s most dangerous.

“So, Mrs. Todd—“ the teacher’s voice breaks you from your stupor, gaze snapping up to her as you furrow your brows.

“Oh, we’re not married.” you object, interrupting her starkly, and she flushes, setting the artwork down with a nervous smile.

“Oh! My mistake. You two just seem so close…”

Jason sighs, raising an arm to wrap around the back of your chair. “Well, not yet.” he says with certainty, and you turn your attention to him, glancing at his arm placement and how the sleeve of his biker jacket brushes your hair. His hand cups your shoulder, which you stare at, and glare when he starts stroking your skin with his thumb. What makes you the most angry is not the entitlement to touch you—which he’s always had—but how he’s clearly messing with you on purpose. This is just like his brand of cruelty, embarrassing you further in a social situation. You tune out whatever crap he’s telling the teacher about the fake wedding and you peel his arm away from you, shoving it back into his lap.

“No, that’s not happening.” you object again, harsher this time and Jason merely scoffs through his nose as you deal with the poor confused teacher.

After the meeting, you’re practically corralled out of that room bickering. You somehow end up on the back of his bike instead of in the car you drove here. Somehow, further, letting him inside your place. Shouting over each other about how inconsiderate he is, and how serious you are, curtly removing your outerwear.

“Would it really be that bad?” he yells, that loud voice that gets you weak in the knees booming through your apartment. You’re lucky your babysitter still has your daughter. “Being married to me, would it really be that bad?”

“It’s not about that, Jason! You know that!”

Your objections are drowned out in how his big body herds you into your bedroom, how his hands push you down to rip off your jeans. How he palms your mouth to shut you up while he’s kissing on your neck, clumsily searching for the give in between your legs. His tip eases in as you lazily bat at his hefty shoulders and thick biceps. “Don’t wanna be Mrs. Todd, huh?” You relax under him the longer he’s inside you, rutting into you with patience as you jerk your head away from him. “What’s wrong with that? Don’t want my name? Don’t wanna be a happy little family?”

Your fist bangs against his rotator cuff and he laughs, husky and light in your ear. His teeth latch onto your lobe, playfully tugging on it while he bottoms out, and you emit a noise from your throat.

“Mrs. Todd,” he chides, “So wet for your husband. S’almost like you want it.”

#indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!! #anon #[🃏] #indy: drabbles #ch: baby daddy!jason #jason todd drabble #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #baby daddy!jason #baby daddy jason todd #red hood smut #red hood x reader #reader insert

[feelo-fick]

WHY has no one talked about these panels. fuck it its 12 am (at the time of me "finishing" (<- not even close) writing this, its nearly 2 am) im going to talk about them

ahem.

before i get to the Main Point i wanna discuss chils tendency to spiral into his thoughts

like, sure, yeah, he's a reasonable guy. real logical-- but he tends to rush through so many possibilities and in this scene even berates himself for his tiny mistake. every thought in this scene goes so fast to me here, just "snap snap snap, call for help, no thatll attract too much attention- wait is there a switch? crap its too far away- nevermind lets just wait for marcille- but can i trust her with that?? god im so stupid, am i just gonna be trapped here until morning???" and it takes a moment for him to stabilise and snap out of it

like... he even has a little pep talk about it

i guess you could take this as him merely being a quick thinker? but i highly doubt it -- look at this fucking guy.

anyways. hes always got to be eased out of it one way or another, whether that be complainerism (self-explanatory), strategising with another person (that way all the insecure thoughts get pushed to the back in favour of working together), reassuring himself (discussed above) or...

you. could.

distract him.

place a brick wall in front of that zooming train of thought and watch it crash and burn :)

he doesnt even respond in that first pic, by the way. in fact, he doesnt say anything for another 3 (and a bit) pages, and by then the topic has been safely switched (granted those three pages are just marcille and laios making the familiars, but i feel it still stands that there was no response at all, not even visually)

secondly, in that other instance -- see how his eyes go wide as saucers when contact is made? and how they turn into pinpricks once he looks back**? god. and. like.

oh. fuck. ive gottta continue this in a reblog since ive reached the picture limit on mobile -- i am not even a THIRD of a way through all my thoughts on this- we didnt even get to my footnote!! sit tight everyone :)

#yeah i think theyre touchy even if they dont realize it #like poke poke nudge nudge pat pat #(not to mention the fact that theyre often Right Next To Eachother) #um. ill main tag this cause i want people to see it soooo bad (+ im in need of more chilaios warriors...) #dungeon meshi spoilers #dungeon meshi #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #laios #laios touden #<- i apologise #and last but not least the star of the show... #chilaios #heehee #ohh all the normal people are gonna look at this post and squint but as long as i can drag in a FEW people my life will have vastly improve #also hello chilaios nation ! WE NEED TO DISCUSS--

[kika-writes]

flip it back - l.n

Warnings: Angst, Fluff!

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N panics and makes a BIG mistake

A/N - Little project I did with @maxiemclaren, she’s doing the alternate with Oscar and I’m doing it with Lando, check hers out too xx

“Hey Y/N,” Oscar smiled at you, sitting beside you in his drivers room as you smiled at him. “Hey, how was media?” you asked, putting your phone down. “More rumours about us dating,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Again? Do they ever get tired?” you snorted, you did like Oscar, just not as a boyfriend, simply a friend. “Do you even like anyone?” he laughed, turning to you as your cheeks filled with colour.

In truth, you had the biggest, stupidest crush on his teammate, Lando. Not that you’d ever even think Lando would want anything to do with you. “I-I do,” you said, Oscar could probably tell from your reaction to the question anyways. “Wait, really?” he said, eyes wide, “who?”. You opened your mouth, no sound coming out. “Promise you won’t snitch,” you pleaded as he firmly nodded. “Lando,” you said quietly, only to frown at Oscar’s smirk.

“Knew it,” he smirked, seeing your shock. “I’ve seen the way y’all talk. He definitely likes you back,” the Aussie said as you scoffed, “yeah right, have you seen him?”. You and Lando had a fairly decent friendship, you got on well and talked a lot. He messaged you a few times a day, if it was to send you reels, memes or just to chat. You didn’t mind, but he was surely just a celebrity crush.

“Hey Y/N,” a voice said, behind you, making you look up, seeing Lando. “Oscar, media need you again,” the Brit said, watching his team mate groan. “Sorry dude, it’s about the race,” he grimaced at Oscar. “Media making up shit with you and Oscar again,” Lando said, sitting down after Oscar left. “Yeah, they never get tired of it,” you rolled your eyes. “They’re pretty darn annoying,” Lando laughed, making you chuckle.

“D’you like Oscar?” he asked, turning to you. “As a friend,” you confirmed. “More than that? D’you like anyone, Y/N?” he asked, hands clasped together. Immediately, you flushed. You couldn’t tell him the truth, you’d die of embarrassment. “I…yeah, I, um, I like Oscar,” you said hurriedly, making him nod slowly. “Oh, right,” he nodded simply, “I see,”. You gulped. You’d just lied. “I’ll be off, Y/N,”.

Lando had changed. He no longer messaged you during the day, only sending simple things such as: ‘busy, practise’ or ‘busy, gym’. Why had he changed? Did he not like Oscar? You felt horrible for lying. But of course, the only way to remedy a lie was to tell the truth. You’d made a plan. You would bring Oscar and Lando to one place, and you’d tell them the truth.

And then you’d leave and probably never talk to Lando again. Rather that than him living and thinking you liked Oscar. So you texted them. Oscar, as usual, with his usual ‘alright y/n, I’ll see you then <3’ message. Lando - a simple acknowledgment in the form of a thumbs up emoji. “Hey you guys,” you smiled awkwardly at the pair of them. “Hey Y/N,” Oscar said brightly, much opposing to Lando’s, “hi,”.

You still didn’t realise why he sounded so…downbeat ever since the ordeal. But anyways, you had a matter at hand, and you intended to deal with it. Maybe savour it slightly, this was going to be the last moment you saw Lando and got to speak to him without dying of embarrassment. “So, I told you guys who I like,” you began. “Mhm, you told Oscar about your little crush on him?” Lando snorted. “Mate, what? What the hell you on about?” Oscar rolled his eyes.

“Dude, don’t give me that crap. She told me she liked you,” Lando raised an eyebrow. “Wait, listen,” you said, before Oscar could retaliate. “What?” Lando asked, frowning at Oscar, before turning to you. “I told Oscar I liked you,” you said quietly, not making eye contact with either of them as Lando’s jaw dropped. “You told my team mate you liked me, and told me you liked him?” Lando said, trying to wrap his mind round it.

“Yeah, I guess,” you shrugged, cheeks flushed. “Wait, so he thinks you like me?” Lando blinked, “yes,”. He paused. “And I think you like him,” he continued, “yes,”. He paused again. “Oh shut up, dude,” Oscar shoved his team mate lightly as he interrupted his third question. “Better question, which one of us do you actually like?” Oscar asked, squirting. “I mean, I-,” you started, not sure how you were gonna say it.

“I don’t wanna say it,” you said, hugging your body and looking down. “You gonna make us pull it out of you?” Lando asked, blinking down at you again. “I dunno,” you shrugged, cheeks red. “Oh Y/N,” Oscar shook his head, “we really have to interrogate it out of you?”. You didn’t like this, it made you uncomfortable, and soon you’d have to drop the bomb. “Is it actually either of us?” Lando asked, tapping his chin.

“Yes,” you nodded, looking up at him as he continued to think. “Does he have brown hair- ow!” Lando gasped as Oscar elbowed him. “I dunno, mate, I think he has blonde hair,” the Aussie said sarcastically, making you laugh. “That was a purposeful question, I wanted her to laugh,” Lando rubbed his ribs as you raised an eyebrow, he definitely wasn’t intending for you to laugh. “Is he ugly?” Lando continued. “What?” you gasped, neither of them were ugly.

“If it’s a yes, sheesh, good luck with Oscar, girl,” Lando said, narrowly dodging another jab in the ribs. “C’mon Y/N, be straight with it,” the Aussie said. “It’s not me, I know that,” Oscar scoffed. “It’s Lando, and you want to say it, I can tell,” he said, pulling your hands from your face. “Wait, what?” Lando asked, eyes wide, “you like me?”. You turned to him, “yes, I know, it’s embarrassing you’re probably horrified and I-,” he cut you off.

“No fucking way. Y/N, you like me?” he repeated, he was so gonna laugh at you. “I…yes?” you shrugged. “You’re having a laugh. Nuh uh, you’re having a giggle,” he backed away, this was worse than you had pictured. “Y/N Y/L/N, you like me back?!” he said, his lips forming into a smile as your eyes widened. “Back? You like me too?” you asked, a smile on your lips too.

“Fuck yeah, have you seen you?” his hand covered his mouth as Oscar snorted. “Right, well whilst you two flirt the fuck out of each other,” Oscar said, “I’m gonna mentally prepare myself for this,”. Lando raised an eyebrow at you, then Lando. “For what?” he blinked. “Lando, if you may follow me for the ‘if you hurt my best friend’ talk…” the Aussie trailed off, gripping Lando’s shoulder as he gulped. “So long Y/N,” Lando grimaced as you burst into laughter.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris smut #f1 #oscar piastri

[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 2

Previous Part, Next Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But silver linings exist in the sticky toffee pudding Mrs. Gavey made for you.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix is Felix (a ho), Reader finally eating some good fucking food, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver is Oliver (a creep), alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic

Author's Note: BRUH??? HOW DID I GET SO MANY NOTES IN PART 1??? Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive. I received so many questions and comments, which have all been great! Thank you for reading this story, and I hope that this part lives up the first one. Also, this is technically a Christmas fic bc it just fits with the story's timeline. I would like to thank Grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇

Christmas Eve - Saltburn 2006

“Oh! Oh – y-yes, yes, yes! FUCK!”

Fucking the girl underneath so hard to the point where she likely saw stars. Meanwhile, Felix was trying to finish as soon as possible.

“So big! God, you’re so fucking big – FUCK!”

He brought her to his room and in his bed because he thought her hair just barely matched yours, and if he didn’t think too much about it – her voice sounded a bit like yours too.

But he made a mistake.

The girl – whatever her name was – sounded nothing like you. Her hair was nowhere near as pretty and shiny as yours, and her nails were fucking long and sharp that they were digging for his blood. Her makeup too – fucking hell, it was like she trying out for the opera with how much she caked onto herself.

Every time Felix saw you – whether in the library or under a tree – your nails were trimmed short. And from what he remembered, you didn’t plaster yourself in cheap cosmetics.

No, you never needed to. Your style of choice was simpler and more elegant than most girls he knew, including his sister, Venetia. Granted, he loved his sister to bits and pieces, but the girl loved her spray tan in the winter.

But worst of all – she didn’t have your eyes. Her gaze was too mindless and soft, a mix of adoration and unparalleled lust. Your eyes held vivacious rage and

“Felix?” What’s-Her-Face asked. “You okay?”

Fuck, he was getting soft.

Closing his eyes, Felix knew the only way he would get to finish was to think of you. He thought about the last time he saw you. He remembered how hard the wind blew and how cold it was that night. He felt himself harden at the memory of how alive your eyes were right before and after you broke his nose. His back still had the welts from the blows of your notebook. Every time he saw them in the mirror, he would lovingly stroke each bruise because they were the only evidence that you were real.

That you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

Letting his mind run wild, Felix imagined you here instead of this imposter. He’d imagine you on top – no way a woman like you would let anyone be on top, not even him. Fuck, you’d be the most wild thing ever to exist, he’s sure he’d let you do anything to him.

His heart, his soul – whether you cared for him or wished to crush him under your shoe – everything of his would be yours.

He wondered if you were the type to be into using a riding crop.

Regaining his vigor with his eyes still closed, he imagined you riding him until oblivion. Your breasts would fit perfectly in his hands as you would still be bouncing on his cock. Your head would be thrown back, and his eyes would roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your pussy tightening.

Oh God, he was going to blow.

Quickening his pace, the girl that wasn’t you was full-on howling in unbridled pleasure. When she climaxed, he could finally let go and come. Ropes of his cum spilled into the condom as he shouted out your name.

Falling to his side, he hadn’t bothered to check if Lady Not You remained in the sheets. It didn’t matter if she did; Felix was too exhausted to care. Finally feeling like he could rest, he fell into a dream about the day he felt his life truly begin – the day he met you.

First Week of Oxford University Michaelmas Term of 2006

Felix remembered the first time he saw you – it was after the first week since the term began. He and his mates were fucking around in Radcliffe, and the old bag running the desk was having a cow with them. He was bored out of his mind when all of a sudden – he spotted you on the upper level. You wore dark wash blue straight-leg jeans with rolled-up cuffs and white high-top Converse sneakers. It looked like your shirt must have been at least a decade old, given how the black-dyed cotton was faded to dark gray, and the paint looked cracked and chipped. Your thick locks were gathered in a loose but simple braid. Unlike everyone else, your eyes weren’t focused on him – but on the structure and life around him.

He had to know more.

Slipping a tenner to one of his friends to cause a distraction, he used the diversion to make his way to your spot on the second floor. Having a closer view, you were the most vividly gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He was worried that his movement toward you would alert you of his presence, and you would only scurry off – and away from him. But judging by the slight bobbing of your head, you wouldn’t be able to hear him since you were listening to whatever was playing through your earbuds.

All the better for him to keep observing you.

As he inched closer, his eyes caught the tiny wisps of your hair that weren’t contained by your messy braid, creating a lovely frame of your face while also bringing out the shine in your eyes. You had a simple gold chain around your neck with a circular locket hanging. From the side, Felix could faintly distinguish the words “Bon Jovi” in blue cracked paint and “1989” underneath a skull wearing red aviators.

He didn’t know who the fuck Bon Jovi was, but clearly, he was someone pretty fucking important to you.

But what captured Felix’s interest was how engrossed you were with the scene unfolding underneath you. Your eyes very rarely broke away from the view – only to quickly glance at the hardcover sketchbook you balanced on the white-painted railing. Whenever you glanced down at your sketch, Felix could see how long and thick your eyelashes were. Each time you blinked, it was like his mind broke down the movement of your eyelids frame by frame as if he were editing a Garry Marshall film. He wished he could be your cheek at that moment. If only to feel the gentle flutter of your lashes’ touch. Deep in your concentration, your lips were slightly pursed in a way that brought out their luscious fullness.

He couldn’t help but imagine how they would look around his cock. If he came inside your mouth, he was sure that some of his spunk would leak past your lips before you tried your best to swallow it down.

He was so lost in the fantasy of you and him that he hadn’t realized you had been calling out to him. Breaking out of his reverie, he looked down to see you right before him. And you looked downright pissed at him.

“Hey! HEY!” you exclaimed while waving your hand to his face to catch his attention.

You were American. How adorable.

“If you could stop staring at me like a fucking serial killer, I think your ‘mates’ are trying to get your attention.”

You pointed your finger at his group of friends still on the first floor. It seemed that they successfully drove away the grounds' warden. The old bat was now fixated on putting away all the returned or misplaced books on the shelves.

Must have been Farleigh’s idea.

Anyway, back to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, can I get your –” but you were gone by the time he turned back to you.

Instead, he found himself alone on the second floor. He quickly glanced around to see if you had just moved to a different area. But you were gone. Racing the stairwell, hoping to catch up to you, he found that you had already walked too far for him to call you out without seeming completely desperate.

Except that he was.

He watched you walk away – shoulders back, posture straight, and head held high – and thought at how utterly unfair it was to him that you walked away from him so beautifully without giving him your number, or at least your name.

Felix woke up in a dark room; he was confused as to why the maids hadn’t drawn curtains – until he realized that Mum had likely sent them for their holiday after the party was finished.

It's too bad that he wasn’t there to see everyone out like a good son. But he wouldn’t beat himself over about it too much – chances were that his parents were also hungover off their asses too. He didn’t even want to imagine V’s state right now.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Felix dug into his closet to find whatever someone wore the morning after fucking a completely faceless stranger to scratch an itch meant for someone else. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a little note on his nightstand. Swiftly plucking it with two fingers, he could barely make out the words written in swirly cursive.

My name’s Cassie. Just thought you should know for next time. Call me: XXXX-XXXXXXX 💋

Felix scoffed before tossing the dingy paper to the floor – destined to be forgotten before the next hour came – before locking himself in the bathroom to take a piss and wash off the smell of booze and cigs off his skin.

By the time he was finished, it was probably close to noon. He would have made his way down to the kitchens to fix something up – but he was immediately met with Farleigh as soon as he stepped out of the doorway. Bastard startled him up so bad that he practically jumped a foot off the ground.

“Fucking – really, Farleigh?” he asked. “Practically gave me a heart attack first thing in the morning.”

“It’s almost one so that ship has sailed.” He quipped back. “Aunt Elspeth and Uncle James were quite distraught when their golden son wasn’t seen by any of the guests when the party ended. It wasn't good when the Carltons’ daughter was gone for almost an hour. But at least she returned to her loving parents’ arms by the time it was to go home.”

Farleigh shot his cousin a curious look.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? I’m pretty sure her name was Cassandra.”

Felix just shrugged.

“Don’t know about any Cassandras. Fucked a Cassie last night, though.”

Farleigh snorted a laugh as they went to the kitchens to see if any food was prepared.

“Merry Christmas, indeed.”

A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Felix asked his cousin something important.

“Hey, do you think she’s thinking about me?”

“Cassie or Cassandra? Because the answer’s probably yes anyway.”

“No, not them. Y/N, Y/N L/N.”

Farleigh immediately stopped. He genuinely wondered how Felix managed to get into Oxford sometimes. Sure, he was a legacy kid, but the line had to be drawn somewhere.

“You really think,” he slowly began, “that the girl who dragged you out of the library in front of everyone, broke your nose, beat you bruised with only her flimsy-ass notebook – because you ruined her painting – would be thinking about you?”

Judging by the look in his cousin’s eyes, yes. Sighing at the incredulity of it all, Farleigh could only shake his head before finding something to eat and drink away the migraine he could feel was coming.

Watching his cousin walk away from him, Felix knew he thought he was fighting a losing battle. But he wasn’t too worried. Everything would change during the upcoming term. Oxford was its own world – broken away from everything else. All that mattered to anyone in Oxford was this world's history, present, and future. And now – as it was made clear now to Felix – you were also part of that world. He would get to find you again and make sure to bring you to the point where you would look for him the way he would look for you.

Still, a selfish part of Felix hoped that you were even just the slightest bit miserable being away from him as he was being away from you.

Manchester, December 2006

You were having the time of your life.

Michael invited you to his home in Manchester for Christmas to spend the holidays with his family. You refused, at first, the idea of being a burden to your best friend during a time when it should be spent with family. Michael liked to put up a big front, but you knew that he was just as – if not more – excited to spend Christmas with his folks than you were before the “incident.”

But he insisted, and you could not have been more grateful for the invitation. But you wish you were a tad bit more graceful with your reaction when he first brought it up.

Oxford Dining Hall December 2006

You were angrily shoveling pasta into your mouth at the time. Sadly, the appallingly bland marinara sauce paired with the overcooked spaghetti and dry meatballs was the university's most flavorful dish.

“Come home with me.” He told you one evening during dinner time at the dining hall.

Caught off guard, you half-choked on the mountain of overcooked noodles in your mouth. Immediately, you reached for your glass of water to wash it down and to prevent a truly horrifically dull death.

“What?” you croaked out.

“Come with me to my house for Christmas.” He clarified, utterly unfazed by your near death. “Come on, you’ve been complaining to me all week about not being able to fly back for the holidays. And no one should have to spend Christmas eating whatever slop they’ll end up serving.”

“Michael,” you began, “I am not going to impose on your family like that. And you seemed to have forgotten one key detail: I can’t leave until I re-do the painting.”

“So, come over after you finish,” he reasoned, “I know you remember what to do, and that already cuts the time you originally spent on it in half. You won’t need a whole month to do it again, so come over when you finish. Plus, you don’t have your other classes to worry about.”

You knew that he was right – he was right about a lot of things – but the offer still made you uncomfortable. Scholarship student or not, you were no one’s charity case. If there was one thing you hated more than being underestimated, it was being pitied by people who didn’t know you. That wasn’t the case with Michael, but the feeling made you feel small.

You hated feeling small.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I would be imposing on your family. Your mom’s a nurse, right? She’s probably been looking forward to your homecoming for ages now. Informing her that she should be expecting a complete stranger, who would be staying for two weeks, would be a huge burden on her. She shouldn’t have that kind of stress burdening her during the holidays.”

He rolled his eyes at your concern.

“Don’t be a drama queen. I already have one in my life, and I’m genetically attached to her. And you’re hardly a stranger. Mum’s always asking when you would be visiting anyway. She’s worried if you’re eating enough or getting enough sleep. She’s a bit looney like that.”

You shot your friend a glare. He was trying way too hard to keep a cool, nonchalant façade. Michael Gavey was a total sucker for his family but in the sweetest way. During the long study sessions that stretched into the night, Michael’s defenses were lowered, and you could get more information about his life and home.  

His mom was a Manchester Royal Infirmary nurse practitioner, while his dad was an accountant at Pearl Lemon. They met at a coffee shop. He was working as a barista to pay off his student loans, and she was a nurse just starting her residency. He wowed her with his terrible jokes, and she charmed him with her infectious smile, and the rest was history. Three years into their marriage, baby Mikey was born, with the addition of his baby sister Lilypad a decade later.

When you remained silent, Michael knew your stubbornness would give him endless headaches. But you were his best friend, the only person he saw worth befriending in the infinite sea of prats and slags that overpopulated their university. You laughed at his shitty jokes, and he snorted at yours. You would try to trip him up with out-of-pocket sums; he’d laugh when he answered them before your calculator. You had his back when some rugby bloke pushed him around, and he had yours when some fake tanned bitch called you a tramp.

“Look, I can’t promise it’ll be anything like your home. I know you miss your mum’s cooking and your dad’s drunk stories. But my parents already made me promise that I would get you to visit because it’s Christmas and no one should be alone and you’re going to die without me here and blah blah blah. Just say you’ll come? Lil’ will murder me if you don’t come. She’s been dying to hear all about the Great Apple and Broadway.”

“…It’s actually called the Big Apple.”

Your comment brought a loud and rather unattractive snort to leave his mouth. And the chuckle that came after brought a small and tentative smile on you.

“Look, are you coming or not?”

You had to admit, the invitation sounded welcoming. You were dying to put faces on the people that made Michael Gavey, well, Michael Gavey. He rarely talked about his family, but his tone was warm and soft when he did. It was such a sweet contrast to the snarky little shit you were used to, and so temptation won in the end.

“…Fine.” You agreed after dragging out the tension. “But I am bringing presents for all your family members, and you have to help me. And any funds that were spent on me are going to be paid back before summer. Got it?”

A true, genuine smile crept across Michael’s face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“…Will I be seeing any baby pictures of you?”

“Don’t push it.”

You weren’t sure what exactly to expect from Michael’s family – maybe they were wonderful, or maybe the idea of an American that hailed from a city with some of the highest crime rates in the US gave them hives – but you were sure that you wouldn’t be alone if Michael were with you. Safe to say, your expectations were set way too low.

His dad's arms immediately enveloped Michael after you two exited at your stop and the station. You had always assumed most British father figures to be a bit cold and distant, but it seemed that stereotype didn’t apply to his dad. You went in for a handshake but were also caught in a warm hug. You introduced yourself while expressing your gratitude to him and his wife’s generosity.

“Oh no, please,” he insisted, “please call me Greg. Mr. Gavey was my father’s name, and I don’t think I’ve grown that many wrinkles yet.”

When you arrived at his home, it was a medium-sized red brick building in the suburbs. After entering the door and Greg announcing your arrival, quick footsteps ran down the stairs, and a young girl with golden honey curls in pajamas and a pink tutu ran to Michael.

“MIKEY!” she exclaimed. “YOU’RE HOME! Did you miss me? Why did it take you so long? You said your tests were done by the third. It’s the fifteenth today!”

“Lily, Lily,” Michael breathily laughed, “calm down. Of course, I missed you. But I had to wait for my friend because she’s hopeless with directions.”

“That is not true!” you blurted. “It’s not my fault I come from a grid system!”

“Anyway, this is my very good friend, Y/N L/N. Y/N L/N, this is my little sister, Lily.”

Lily turned to you with a big smile and curtsied like a perfect ballerina.

“Hello! My name is Lily! I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in April!”

You almost squealed at how adorable the sight was. You crouched down and mirrored her smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Lily! I’m Y/N, and I’m turning nineteen this coming b/m! Your brother here told me so much about you.”

“He did?” she asked with wide eyes.

“He did! He told you how smart you are in math and that you’re an amazing ballerina.”

Lily shyly looked down as a massively cute blush bloomed on her cheeks.

“I wanna be good at sums like Mikey. That way, I can help Daddy with his work like Mikey did when he was my age.”

“Ok!” interjected ‘Mikey,’ cheeks equally flushed at the slipped detail from his baby sister. “Time to find Mum. She in the kitchen?”

“Yep! She’s making roast chicken and mash with peas!” She turned to you. “Is Y/N allergic to anything?”

“Nope!” you replied, “Only dust, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be in the dishes.”

Meeting Michael’s mom – who was absolutely gorgeous, by the way – was another huge highlight of the break so far. Hearing you three entering the kitchen, she immediately turned off the stove and dashed over to hug you and her son.

“Oh, Y/N!” she warmly greeted you. “I’m so happy that you were able to come. Michael has told me so much about you. Have you adjusted well in Oxford? The time difference isn’t putting too much strain on you, is it? You both look so skinny – are they feeding you at all at that school?”

“Careful, Mum. You might scare her off.”

You shot him a mocking glare before answering his mother.

“Don’t be mean! And I think I’ve adjusted well enough to the university. Jet lag wasn’t too much of an issue because my parents made sure I moved into my dorm early and adjusted to the time zone changes before classes started. The food they serve at the dining halls doesn’t compare to homecooked meals, so I haven’t had much of an appetite. But after walking into the kitchen, I think I’ll be able to regain it once I have your cooking!”

“Oh, you are so sweet! I’ll let you get settled. Greg and I cleaned up the guest room for you. It’s next to Lilypad’s room. She’s excited to hear any stories you have about New York. It’s just on the second floor at the end of the hall.”

Walking back to the entrance to grab your bags, you were just in earshot of Michael and his mom’s conversation.

“Michael! Why didn’t you tell me she was so beautiful! I thought she was a model from Vogue when she first walked in! Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two? Should I expect any grandchildren in the near future?”

“Mum!” he loudly groaned as you softly chortled.

Christmas with the Gaveys was so much fun. You played a dozen board games. Michael was a beast in Poker and Uno while you cleared the board with Scrabble and Black Jacks. Mrs. Gavey was a fantastic cook – you couldn’t remember the last time you had any meal that had more than salt as a seasoning since coming to England. You tried sticky toffee pudding for the first time – you almost cried at that first bite. Everyone was so warm to each other and showered one another with so much love. Most of the neighbors watched Michael grow up, and many shared his childhood stories. It reminded you a lot of the Christmases at your parents’ apartment back in Queens.

The community and camaraderie- it was like you were back at home with your family. Your mom would pick up a roast duck from Peking Duck Sandwich Stall in Flushing while you and your dad would go to Eileen’s to wait in line to pick up your favorite cheesecake. The building would have a huge potluck on Christmas Eve, and everyone would bring a dish. Your neighbor, Mrs. Wong, would bring out everything necessary to make her famous dumplings. Everything was made from scratch. You and the kids of the building would learn how to wrap the fillings in the wrappers while the adults made the wrappers and fillings. You would play White Elephant with the other kids on Christmas Day, which usually ended in a fistfight.

You still missed home. You missed your parents and cat. You missed making cookies with your parents because Christmas was the only time when both of them had time off from work. While his school was still on break, you and your dad would take advantage of your mom’s employee benefits and watch a bunch of live Broadway shows.

When your parents skyped you, you cried after seeing their faces for the first time in so long. School was so stressful, and you were starting to regret traveling so far when you could have easily gone to a school so much closer to home. You tried your best to reschedule your flight, but round-trip flights were expensive, and they increased exponentially during the holidays.

You cried for an hour after seeing the prices online.

But thanks to Michael, you felt so much less alone than you would have if you had stayed at Oxford for the entire break. You introduced him to your parents during the call, and they loved him. It was such a massive relief that they liked your friend, especially because of how much his friendship meant to you. When he left the room, your parents basically forced you to ensure he would come with you to stay with you when you returned for the summer. They were shocked when you told them he had never had fresh jianbing or a decent slice of pizza. After the call, you were confident they were making a list of every store and stall you and Michael would visit during his visit.

Classic Queens’ family behavior – showing love by forcing food down your throat whether you like it or not.

At the moment, you were at the window in your room and looking at the moon. It was about three in the morning, and the rest of the household was asleep.

Well – everyone except one.

Michael had crept in about half an hour ago, and the two of you were just looking at the stars. You hadn’t expected to see so many – you could only see the lights from planes and aircraft at night back home. There wasn’t any talking, only comforting silence. The scene outside your window with the fresh snow on top of the rooftops and ground. Each house had a slight outline of their Christmas tree lights shining from their lower windows.

Your fingers itched for your pencil and sketchbook to immortalize it.

Ever so softly, Michael broke the silence while looking at you.

“So,” he began, “how would you rate your first English Christmas in the Gavey Household?”

You looked back at him with the biggest smile that Michael had ever seen on you.

“Ten out of ten. Would pay to see lightsaber reenactment again.”

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

Suburban Prescot, Liverpool December 2006

In a well-established suburban home in Prescot, a short boy with crystal blue eyes and inky black hair locked himself in his room. The noise and babble from downstairs gave him a headache. He hated his parents. He hated his sisters. He hated being invisible and being from nowhere.

He had to get out of here.

In his backpack, a photo of a specific heir of a manor was safely tucked in the bottom. The new term was going to be different for him. He would make sure of it.

Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @valeskafics, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss

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#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie

[onmyyan]

A/N: First Yandere OC he’s a big baby n i love him❤ TWs: Yandere shenanigans, Smut, reader has a coochie, word pussy used to describe genitalia, cis fem reader, ”Good Girl”, breeding kink, feeding kink, cum eating (reader doesn't know) oral (f receiving), shower sex, cursing

Lemme know what you guys think!!

Caspian Delmont HC's

25 year old beefcake

The biggest guy in the room no matter where he is. Absolutely massive individual, standing proud at 6'4 a wall of muscle shaped like a man, definition of scary dog privilege

Smells like cinnamon and warm chocolate

Likes to take Sunday drives in his granddads 67 Chevy Impala, oldies blaring through the speakers he'd put in himself(the only thing he changed about the car)

Old fashioned in the way where he'd lay a man out flat in the street for disrespecting you, then take you to dinner as an apology for having to deal with that crap.

He has an accent, a thick Bronx twang that comes out heavy on certain words, bilingual, speaks fluent Spanish and English, he's mixed with Filipino and Puerto Rican, has a huge family so he wants one with you. If you don't however he'll settle for a small army of animals.

Drinks his respect women juice like water, sees you as his equal and at the same time holds you on this goddess like pedestal high above him.

Boxes in his free time to release pent up aggression, and he's good at it.

Early on in the relationship he is quite hesitant to show you this side as he's insecure about how you view him.

Everyone has always had some ulterior motive when it came to him, he's used to people befriending him out of fear or to use his intimidating stature to their advantage, so when you don't he's both incredibly warmed and confused.

You're genuineness only draws him in further, as tough an act he puts on our boy falls fast and hard.

First time he saw you he was a goner, you were elbow deep in some toffee cookie dough, the tip of your tongue poking through your plush lips in the cutest form of concentration he'd ever bore witness to.

His brain worked a mile a minute as he sped walked his way to the desk next to you, shoulder checking the smaller man who was previously beside you. You looked up at the sound of his body meeting the desk in his scurry out the way of Caspian’s impending mass.

His red eyes widened as they met yours, the smile you gave him was real, he saw it in the way it reached your eyes. The small 'hi' you said as you went back to your work had butterflies erupting in his chest the entire hour of class.

Not one to shy away from his wants he quickly comes up to you after the lesson eager to help you clean up as his own station was miraculously cleared in moments.

He lays on the charm thick, all the while making sure not to come off as too pushy, he visibly lit up when he got you to laugh that first time.

Wants to ask you out immediately but knows he loves a lot harder than most and the last thing he wanted was to scare you away. Forces himself to hold back even though he knew you were the one after about one and a half classes.

Remembers everything you share about yourself, down to the most minute detail about how you like to stay home when it rains because it always makes you sleepy, or how you like when your partner can protect you because people in the past have failed to.

Absolute sweetheart to you, treats you like you deserve to be, 100% worshiped.

Can and has knocked some teeth out to protect your honor, if someone made the fatal mistake of making you cry?

Oh he's calling his sketchy cousin who owns a junkyard on the edge of town and having him leave the gates unlocked for him where your offender may or may not be tied up in the trunk of their car, he doesn't give em' a speech or tell them why he's doing what he is, in his mind they should know. Their muffled screams would be drowned out by the metal jaws and teeth of the compactor his cousin let him use from time to time, he'd have to bake him some macaroons as a thank you- ooh he could ask you to join him! It be such a cute date.

Major sweet tooth, loooooves hand feeding you especially if it's something he himself made it's a physical representation of his love!!

Calls you sugar, pumpkin, honeyy(specifically drawing out the y at the end so its more like a whine) babycakes, muffin, basically any food you can call your s/o he's doing it

He wakes up an hour or so before you so he can stare lovingly without you getting all flustered and hiding from him.

His favorite days are spent waking up late with you on top of him, his big arms holding you securely to his chest, neither of you have work or classes, you'd wake up to him humming some unnamed tune, the timber in his voice lulling you gently awake, he won't leave the bed without at least one kiss, first words you hear are usually something like "Mornin' sugar" followed by the kinda toe curling kiss that shakes all the sleep from your system, I'm talking he only pulls away to breathe kinda kiss, "I'm the luckiest bastard in the world gettin' to wake up with a woman like you warming my sheets." If you two don't immediately go at it like rabbits he'll twirl you both into the kitchen where you'll cook breakfast together, the radio softly filling the morning air, makes you sit in his lap while you eat, he'd be so focused on watching you eat he'd forget to do it himself so naturally you take the time to feed him as well, cue his heart exploding and him getting so excited he all but tosses you on the table, hand cradling your head because he'd never hurt you, eventually you'd be able to keep your paws off each other long enough to get ready, although if he's in the room it will take twice as long.

Nsfw under here❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗

Doesn't matter your height or weight this man is throwin you around in the bedroom

His hands are surprisingly soft for how rugged he looks, he's obsessed with trailing them along your body, stares at you like you're artwork.

On one hand he wants to take his time, start at the bottom work his way up your body, kissing, licking and biting everywhere he could. He wants to tease you, taste you get drunk off your sent until you tug him away from your sex, then he'd slide his way up the sweet smile on his face not matching the debauchery he was about to commit.

On the other hand he wants to lay on the bed and have you sink onto his face so he can eat like the starved beast he is, any fears or insecurities about the ordeal fly out the window when you look down to see this titan of a man with tears beading his lashline, begging to eat your pussy, whining to just do it already and he could take it if you'd pleeeease just give it to em'

Feeder kink on max, it all starts when one day your hands are full and you innocently asked him to feed you, all was well and good until his finger lingered in your mouth a second too long, your tongue teasingly flicked the appendage as it retreated, now every time you're eating all he can think about is sitting you in his lap and feeding you. If he could he'd spend every meal with you cockwarming him and his fingers in your mouth.

Service Top? Service Top.

Can and will eat you out until you're a whining, blubbering, mess. More often than not you have to pull him by his hair to catch your breath, of course the light sting from your yanks would only spur him on,

"One more honey? C'mon good girl give it to me. I know you can baby- that's right ride my face." Absolute menace

Shower sex that leaves you feeling dirtier than when you went in

Definitely the type to talk you through it.

"There we go- that's it honey jus' let go f'me." He loves to moan in your ear and see the pretty way your face twists up, loud as hell too, it's a good thing he has a house cuz the man is a screamer.

Always makes you cum more than once, competitive bastard makes it a game between himself to see how many times you can unravel before you tap out.

Can you say Pussy drunk? He wants it as sloppy and messy as he can get. Eats you like its his last chance, i'm talking moaning into your skin, pulling your hips down to get you as close as possible, grinding himself against the bed while he thanks you for letting him have his favorite meal.

He's definitely came in your food before sorry

It's just so romantic to him!! The idea of being inside of you-even just a small piece, quells the possessive monster he keeps leashed. For now

Is willing to try anything you want in bed except hurting you, some choking? Sure, impact play? If you asked him real nicely, but anything like degradation he just can't make himself be mean to his baby!!

You could be mean to him though, there's a small genuine part of him that likes when you get a little rougher, he thinks he doesn't deserve you- any of you, so dig your nails in his skin, mark him with your teeth, show him who he belongs to.

Breeding kink breeding kink breeding kink- you get the picture.

If you indulge him once he'll never wanna cum anywhere else.

"Please baby-fuck, please lemme' cum inside please please fuck me fuck me yes- oh god m'gonna fill this pretty pussy so deep yes, yes- oh god baby girl feels. So. Fuckin. Good." He'd thrust as hard as he could at the end, his face scrunching up in the most blissful fucked out expression. Absolutely cried because of how good it felt.

All in all you give him an inch he'll give you eight

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #caspian oc #yandere oc x reader #oc x reader #yandere hcs #yandere smut #caspian delmont

[honestsycrets]

omg sex worker miguel o’hara? 🤧🫡

grande | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader

❛ pairing | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader.

❛ type | extended drabble; 2kish words; explicit

❛ summary | you probably shouldn't tell a man that he's small. even if you've known him a very long time-- and especially if you see him fuck every day.

❛ tags | sex worker au, improper use of belts, male receiving oral, slight disagreements, workplace argument, Spanish is not translated

❛ sy’s notes | ...i now have an escort!miggy x rich girl!reader in my drafts to be finished at some other time because it became a bit depressing and plotty. needed something light to get back into writing for a bit.

He doesn’t play fair. Most women understand that about him. They know Miguel to be the man who bends the delicate boundaries of rules for a good fuck— be it a place, be it a position. Miguel would do what he had to for a better clip. 

“Miggy?” You said, hands behind your hips. He should have known then that you were up to some shit. You hover somewhere in his vision with a sugar-sweet smile. You’ve worked with him alongside him since he chose this profession. Most days, he watched you sit by your favorite window that cast a warm midday sun, tacking away with fingers that flew across the keys. Some days, you’re watching him-- mounted on another woman. He cocked his thick brow at you. 

“What?”

“I… it’s just… fuck. Elena had something come up.” 

“Like I said she would."

Miguel set his fist to his cheek, swirling his protein shake in the other hand. This woman was your idea, not his. There’s a reason your voice choked on the words. You were anxious about your news the way your hands rounded to the front of your body, clammy hands plastered onto your tablet.

“I just thought—“

“I know what you thought. You thought my followers would like her.” He took a swig of his drink. “Not if she’d like me.”

That was exactly the issue. You do too much worrying about what the viewer likes, not enough about what he would like. He was well aware from every ping from Elena and the contorted little face you made that she was scared of him. As to why, he was not certain. He's grumpy, not dangerous.

“She does like you— it’s just your dick,“ you fumbled with your tablet, nearly spilling it over on his lap. “I told her you weren’t that big. She’s just— dramatic.”

“Not that big?” 

You’re not winning this fight. He threw a look at the tablet, finding your suggestion more egregious than your description of it. Too thick! She complained. He’d stretch her out. Or, so she feared. He sincerely doubted that. She took enough dick that if that were the case, she’d have an issue long before now.

He’s not that big in real life. All that big dick crap is just marketing. I see his dick all the time. 

Then you fuck him!

His mouth flattened into an unmoveable line, clearly unappeased with your response. For a moment, he did not move. He did not fidget. Nor respond. He simply stared down at you with those sharp, unhumored eyes. What little security you had in convincing him flitted away. He abandoned his drink on the table and leaned in close. Close enough that his thick strands of dark hair tickle your skin. Enough that you can smell the perfumed oil that lingered on his tanned skin. He always smelled so good.

“Until you’ve fucked me onscreen,” he brushed past. “Don’t tell women who will what I’m like.” 

Oh. You made a mistake.

You don’t like it when Miguel is angry. 

Most days coming to work, Miguel has a hot coffee on the table for you as you edit his finest ball-busting work. When the days stretch a little too long, he tells you when enough is enough. And, if you were lucky, he hovered at the stove and made you something to eat. It gave you a perfect sight of his toned shoulders and the long column of his spine-- which he so graciously allowed you to drool over day by day. Today, there was no half-dressed hunk making your delicious meals in sight. 

He’s still angry. You pulled up his socials, scrolling through the responses to the latest video. A teasing blooper of a clip with a woman with Miguel’s length halfway down her throat, coughing up his seed all over her chest as you mistakingly giggle behind the screen. 

“Keep laughing and see what happens,” Miguel drifted to yours, eyes hazy and soft, chest rising violently with the sundering sensation of his orgasm. He watched for the span of only a few heartbeats, a decadent warning exchanged between the two of you immeasurable before the camera. He reached for a tissue.

“Perdóname, papi.” 

Does anyone know if they’re fucking? A user asked. It’s as if Miguel’s co-star was but a fading character. Any chance of seeing him fuck her?? Whats her @? 

She’s just his employee.

Need this.

Just an employee. The words pulled on a string of connection that could at any time be cut. Miguel had no interest in wielding the scissors to do so, rather, over the past few years the string only became stronger. He’ll get over it. You stared at the reflection of your poorly made cup of cafecito, undrunken because no one made it like Miguel made it. He’s there, hovering around the sink, but you feel all the more alone in the room. Producer, editor, friend-- your eyes fell back to the cup. 

“Are you done?” Miguel hovered by your coffee cup. It was cool to the touch. 

“Ah. Sí.” 

You gazed up at him, regret seeping from your features. If you apologized yet again, he’d simply leave the room. There are no good words. No ones that would make sense, no words that would… be good enough to make him come back when he’s in this mood, unmoveable and distant. You’re so close to him-- but all alone.

He takes the cup away.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Miguel dropped his phone on your office desk. It thumped over the tablespace, his expression morphing into something wrong. You turn his phone upright, knowing the contents before the information actually registers in your mind. 

“It’s a picture of me,” you closed the top of your laptop and whirled around in the chair, knocking your knees against his. He’s closer than he’s been in days. 

“Yes. But what else?” he rumbled. 

You’re not stupid, remembering the launch of merch that Miguel sincerely doubted anyone would be seriously interested in. How many people wore a male sex worker’s merch? This was all your idea, of course. Your lip is bitten fat, stripped of skin. Your eyes wandered across the table to the cabinet with an array of different cameras. Miguel rapped his scarred knuckles over the table, blocking your desperation for an escape. He wanted a substantial answer.

“You told me to make sure it sold.” 

“And that meant model with your ass out on my page.”

“You don’t like it?” 

"Dios," that’s not the point. He breathed a forceful breath, navigating your rolling chair up against the bed in the room. Typically the bed was used for a late night at the office or one of Miguel’s performances with any number of women you cast him with. Or, as you preferred, when he masturbates by himself-- squeezing his hand along his length as your phantom hand poured more wet lubricant over his cock. The sheets are always stained and consequentially changed.

“I don’t like that they know what you look like,” Miguel supplied, his chest cresting into a fall. His gaze fell to your hands, settled in a clasp over your short skirt. Now he knew what you looked like. “Do you know how many requests I have to…”

“Fuck me.” 

“Sí,” Miguel said, your name dying on his tongue. “To fuck you.” 

“Then do it. You have a camera.”

What-- his gaze read. It’s in the way his brow pushed together, how his lips fell just so lightly apart. He would say something more, but your hands are on his dark slacks, tracking up toward his sturdy leather belt. In only an hour or so, Miguel was meant to record with Elena, who, you convinced. He should be saving his stamina for that, not this. Even so, his hands hovered atop your own, grunting slightly in response, unable to stop what you were doing. 

“Don’t ask me to ruin you.”

“I think you already have,” you murmured, finding his soft cock. You stroked him through his pants, drawing along his length, getting him where you want him. With every scene you recorded, you knew what Miguel liked. You knew he liked scenes where he could take his time, as short and far between as they were. You want that too. You drew the belt loose and unbuttoned the little spry button. So close, you could almost taste him.

“Are you going to record it?” You gestured toward the desk, pulling his cock into the free air. He’s an impressive length, just as you recall, you think he has to be to be an adult actor. The real treat is Miguel’s thick girth, swirled with delicious veins. You had seen his dick at least a hundred times, delighted in watching him meet his orgasm time and time again, and touched yourself to the thought of being just like his many girls. 

“No,” Miguel pulled his belt from the loops and tugged it around his wrist. He let the other hand find the back of your head, weaving through smooth locks of hair, guiding your lush lips to his cock. “This is all for me.” 

When he spoke like that, all you wanted was to make him happy. Your moist mouth separated, warm breath tickling the length that he shoved into your wet mouth. Maybe Elena had a point, you think, suckling around his length once, drawing to his fat tip. He hums in response, bucking back deep into your mouth. Miguel didn't want to wait, causing you to gag over his length, a terrible coughing resonating about his dick. Now that he had you here, he would show you how wrong you were.

“I thought I wasn’t that big,” Miguel’s hand left your head, stretching his belt across the back of your neck. Bucking forward, you gagged around his length, scratching his clothed hip for some mercy. If he wasn’t so big-- you could take it, couldn’t you? “Just like that. Hm? Cómo?” 

He was gracious enough to allow you off his cock, gasping for air as you were, the depth of his plunging cock having pricked a few oversensitized tears on the sides of your eyes. You’re beautiful like that, overwrought and needy. Your heart rattled in the confines of your ribcage, wheezing as you jerked him pathetically. How certain you look now, tugging on him for a moment of relief.

“I’m sorry--” 

“Ya sé.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut, guiding him back into your mouth. Your cheeks hollowed out, drawing him in fast and hard. If not for the belt around the back of your neck, he might have stumbled, stuck between the warmth of your mouth and the pleasured groans tickling his length. You’re well-accustomed to what the girls do, stretching your palm around his dick.

“Harder,” he remarked, throwing a half-chewed-up curse aside. Unlike with the other girls, he’s weak before the pleasure, usually focused and refined, his jaw clenches. He’s gotten weak-- has it been that long since he’s had sex outside of the roll of the camera? 

“Miggy,” you pulled back, your sloppy tongue swirling about his fat tip. He catches the moan in his chest, refusing to let it crest over, not yet. His eyes catch yours, muscular stomach flexing, he’s listening. “I want to taste you. Can I taste you?” 

You’re such a good niña. Miguel forces you back to your rightful place on his cock, the band stretched so tight around his fists that he might break it. Your name becomes an unbearable, pleasurable slur on his tongue. He’s a trained man, knowing to cum when you say to come on each shoot. In many ways, he's your trained dog: cuming when he's told to.

His length pulsed in your mouth for one final thrust before he gave you what you wanted, strands of release spraying the back of your warm little mouth. You suckled him up, even as he tried to pull free. You cleaned his cock, sucking him nice and clean. Miguel brushed off your attempt to zip him away.

“Don’t bother,” Miguel breathed, pulling at the black-tie strapped to his throat. His white dress shirt was soaked, causing him to roll the sleeves up to his elbows. His voice dropped, well-fucked out but nearly ready for another round. “Your cunt is next.” 

“But Elena is on her w--” 

“Fuck her,” Miguel waved his hand, slouching into your chair. “Fix the camera. We have a video to shoot.” 

If nothing else-- now you can tell her how big he really is.

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #atsv imagines #atsv imagine #atsv fic #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #miggy x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara smut

[lilywastaken]

⇝ SICK DAY SCENARIOS !

CC!DreamWasTaken, CC!Sapnap, CC!GeorgeNotFound, CC!Quackity, CC!Karl Jacobs x GN!Reader.

SUMMARY: taking care of CCs when they're sick :( <3.

WARNINGS: SFW, a few spicy moments here and there, illness, a tiny drop of angst in Karl's part!

A/N: I'm alive!! The brainrot is real for these guys so I just had to write something, even if it's a bit crap LMAO. It's my first time writing for Karl/Quack, so they might be a bit weird/stiff, apologies! Once again, requests are open!! Please don't forget to reblog/comment if you enjoy the post, it helps a lot!! Thank you for reading! <333 If you see any mistakes, do not hesitate to let me know, please!!! I wrote this quite late so there might be a few!

MASTERLIST.

DREAM:

"Feeling a bit better?"

You whisper softly as you open the door to your boyfriend's bedroom, noticing that he had made his way off his bed and onto his chair, legs up and pressed to his chest with his knees tucked under his chin, the bright screens of his monitors reflecting onto his sad face.

"Mm…"

His broken whimper makes you sigh, walking over to him carefully and placing the bowl of chicken soup next to his keyboard, leaning down to press a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

"You should be resting."

You're about to lean back until Dream grabs your arm, his pointer finger coming up to tap his lips, hopeful eyes staring up at you.

"Clay. You're ill."

"Which means you're refusing to kiss your poor, suffering boyfriend?" He sighs dramatically, his voice deep yet nasally due to his stuffy nose, leaning into your touch as your hand comes up to cup his cheek.

"Are you ready to take care of me when I inevitably get sick, sweetheart?" You coo back, watching his expression morph from one of self-pity to one of dread.

"O-of course." He mumbles, hoping you don't remember how stressed he was when George had gotten sick a few weeks ago, running around the house looking for medicine in hopes that his friend wouldn't die. "Still… What if the cure to my sickness is a kiss from my beautiful partner?"

"Oh?" You play along with a smile, your hand coming up to play with his hair and run your fingers through his dirty blond curls, watching him flutter his eyes closed to enjoy your touch with a smile, half expecting him to start purring. "Well…" You sigh dramatically in defeat, leaning down so that the tips of both your noses are bumping. "I guess if it helps."

Dream makes a soft noise of excitement before you press your lips to his, his soft hand holding your head to his to slot your lips together easily.

"Now get to bed." You snap as soon as you pull back, causing him to huff and pause whatever video he had been watching.

"Fine." He grumbles like a child, lifting himself up and taking a few moments to make sure he isn't about to collapse before turning to you, letting you lead him to his mattress, onto which he immediately collapses on with a loud groan.

He situates himself under the covers and outstretches his arms to you expectantly, yet instead of your warm body he finds himself holding the bowl of soup you had brought.

You press a kiss to his forehead as he begrudgingly starts to sip on the soup, his gaze softening as he realises you're not about to leave his side.

Needless to say, the next day you were as ill as he was.

SAPNAP:

A loud groan resounds across the house.

You try your best to ignore it, going back to scrolling through your phone and scratching behind Patches' ears.

Another groan, louder this time, finally brings your attention away from social media and back to reality, frowning at the unending dramatic groans that come from your boyfriend.

You sigh, carefully pushing Patches off and starting your trek upstairs, listening to the borderline fake sounds coming from inside the room.

"You sound like you're dying."

You comment as soon as you push open the door to his bedroom, rolling your eyes with a smile as you meet your boyfriend's gaze, his lower lip curled into a pout as he makes grabby hands at you, his bed covered in what you assume to be snotty tissues.

"I am dying, darlin'. Feels like I'm being ripped apart."

You laugh, making your way towards him and sitting on the edge of the bed, and placing your hand onto his forehead, frowning instantly at how hot he feels.

"Wait, are you actually sick?"

"Yes!" Sapnap whines, throwing his head back and slamming it accidentally onto the wooden headboard, whining at the additional pain. "You thought I was fakin'!?"

"I wouldn't put it past you." You grumbled, wiping some of the sweat on his face with your sleeve, watching him try to adjust in his bed just to be closer with you. "What hurts?"

"Everything." He sighs out, closing his eyes in pain as his head throbs.

"Everything?" You repeat, unamused, already getting up to retrieve an ice pack from downstairs, hoping to cool down the fever he seems to have caught.

"Yes, every-" his eyes snap open as soon as he feels the bed shift, whining. "No, don't leave!"

"Nick, I need to get you something for your fever!"

You struggle against Sapnap's grip as he pulls you into his lap, arms wrapped around your waist and stubble scratching against your cheek.

"No… all I need is you, darl'." He grumbles against your skin, peppering sloppy kisses onto your neck.

"You're delirious." You sigh, melting into his warmth as he pulls you under the covers, sniffling and whining with every move he makes. "You'll take some medicine later, right?"

"Mhm … yeah." He says drowsily as he starts to fall asleep right there, listening to your breathing as a means to calm himself down. "Anything for you, sweetheart."

GEORGE:

How can George still be asleep?

You think to yourself as you stare mindlessly into the TV, the plate of food you had been eating abandoned on the coffee table as you take note of how long it had been since you had seen your boyfriend after last night.

You know he's prone to sleeping in for long, but not this long. Especially now in Florida, where the sun rises earlier and helps him wake up at the same time as you and your roommates.

Once you give your half eaten plate to Dream, you carefully push open the door to your boyfriend's room, stopping for a few moments so your eyes get used to the darkness his room was covered in.

"George? Are you awake?"

Treading carefully so you don't trip on any loose cables or stuff that he might have tossed onto the ground, you finally reach his bed, kneeling next to him and placing your hands on the body beneath the covers and shaking softly.

"Georgie?"

"Hmng."

You feel him turn around, meeting his gaze despite the darkness around you, watching as his pained expression turns into one of relief.

"Hi…" He mumbles, voice coarse as if he had just finished screaming for over an hour, reminding you of that one time he had lost his voice after a particularly long stream. "Time…?"

"Almost 4." Your hand comes up to push back his bangs, a shiver racking through his body as your cool touch makes contact with his atypically hot skin. "What th- do you have a fever?"

"I think." You feel his arms creep around your waist, pulling you closer with abnormal strength and placing his head onto your lap, snuggling himself into your thighs, letting out a shaky sigh at the warmth. "Tried getting up this morning and I think I passed out."

That would explain the crash Sapnap had claimed to have heard early in the morning.

"You passed out? Why didn't you call me?" You whisper back, running your fingers through his hair and massaging the back of his neck, a spot you know always gets him weak. "We could've brought you downstairs so you weren't cooped up like this."

George laughed as the image of Dream and Sapnap dragging him downstairs came to mind, but the sudden stabbing pain that attacked his lungs caused him to start coughing with a whine.

"I'd rather just stay up here with you." He started to manhandle you to lie under the covers, his hands warm on your hips as he quite basically shoved his face into your chest, trying to calm his raging headache. "We can order something later… I just want to be with you for now."

You chewed on your lower lip before your hands came up subconsciously to bury themselves in his soft locks, a whine leaving his lips as your nails started scratching at his scalp. "Fine. Just for a bit, okay? You still have to eat, we got to get you medicine, and you probably stin-"

You squeaked as he nipped on your skin in an attempt to get you to shut up, rolling your eyes at the smirk on his pretty lips before he fluttered his eyes back closed, a silent way of telling you that he was going back to sleep.

QUACKITY:

"You're an idiot."

Your boyfriend sputters out a confused sound as he walks into the kitchen, not having expected to be instantly insulted first thing in the morning.

"Huh?"

"Why are you half-naked!? You're sick!" You point at his feet and then his shorts with your spoon, making him groan and roll his eyes.

"It's hot!" He throws his arms up in the air as he sits down at the kitchen island, ignoring the way you frown at him. "And I'm not sick. I'm fine. It's just a cold."

"That still counts as being sick." You mumble under your breath, pushing a plate of food in his direction before pulling off your hoodie (which casually happened to be his) and handing it to him. "Put it on. I don't want you getting worse."

"...fine." He mumbles, starting to eat once it's on. "Thank you, mi vida."

Your face heats up at the casual nickname, nodding as you start on your own breakfast, too busy scrolling on your phone to notice the way your boyfriend starts squirming in his seat, sweat dripping down his forehead as he tries to focus on his food.

"You alright?" You finally realise how sick he looks despite having looked fine mere moments before, face flushed and skin sickly pale as he wipes the sweat away with his hoodies sleeves.

"Mhm. Okay." Your hand reaches over to cup his cheek, almost flinching back at how hot his skin feels. "Jesus! You're so fucking hot!"

You instantly regret what comes out of your mouth at his cocky expression, watching him m lean into your hand and sigh dreamily, eyelashes fluttering open and closed as he speaks.

"You think I'm that hot, babe?" He purrs out, despite the absolute pain that's racking through his body at the minute. "Damn, didn't expect you to be bold."

"Shut up." You pinch his cheek, forcing a high pitched cry to leave his mouth as you turn around to look through the medicine cabinet. "I meant you're literally hot, Alex."

"So you think I'm not figuratively hot?" You refrain from the urge to groan at his teasing, pulling off the cap to some medicine and dropping a pill into a glass of water.

"If you keep acting like this, you'll be less than hot to me." You snap, handing him the drink and waiting for him to down it like he usually does when it comes to ill-tasting medicine. "Go lie down, I'll make you some soup."

Before you can leave, he grabs your arm, pulling you into the space between his open legs and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"With me?" He mumbles into your hair, causing you to roll your eyes at how clingy he's become. "Come on, cielo. We can just order soup."

"But will it be as good as my soup?" You brush some of his longer strands of hair away from his eyes and trace the invisible lines between the beauty marks on his face.

"No… but I'd take cold soup any day of the week if it means having you in my arms."

KARL:

"Your nose is running."

You comment as you watch your boyfriend sluggishly make his way towards the fridge, eyes barely open and sweatpants almost falling down his waist.

"Mhm."

He doesn't even acknowledge your words, digging through the countless cans in the fridge to pull out some orange juice, instantly downing it without a second thought.

"Sorry. You want some?" He slurs, extending his arm and offering you the carton.

"Just finish it, Karl. I'd rather not get sick."

You notice that instead of his normal sleeping shirt he has a button up on, the buttons all messed up from probably trying to do it on his own in the bathroom mirror.

"You going somewhere, baby?" You comment on his appearance, frowning as he instantly nods, throwing the carton into the bin before looking for some snacks.

"Filming with Jimmy." He casually says, as if he hadn't been battling with a fever for almost a week. "I volunteered yesterd-"

You slap your hand over his mouth, stopping him from talking and meeting his shocked gaze, feeling his hands immediately find place on your waist out of instinct at how close you are.

"You're not going anywhere, Karl. I don't want you to get worse." You comment with a frown, having half expected him to lick at your hand when you had covered his mouth, but the sad look in his eyes feels worse than how that would've. "Please. You've been in pain for almost a week, I just want you to get better."

You let go of his face, moving your hand to cup his cheek and watch him press into your touch, nodding solemnly.

"Just don't like being useless. I wanna do stuff, I want to help!" He whines, closing his eyes as if afraid of your reaction to his complaint.

"You're not useless, though. You're sick. I'm taking care of you because I love you and I want you to get better. Jimmy's your friend, he'll probably won't want you working while you're sick, either." You lean up to press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a comforting hug, his cool hands roaming your skin under your shirt. "So get back into your pyjamas and get to bed and I'll bring you some food, okay? Then we can watch a movie, whichever one you want."

He nods enthusiastically, taking his turn to cup your cheeks in his hands and pepper kisses all over, brushing your lips with his before pulling away, aware of how sick you'd get if he gave you what he had. "I love you!" He says before rushing back upstairs giddily, not even waiting for you to say it back, aware that even without saying it, you do.

#dream smp x reader #mcyt #dream smp #dream smp imagine #dreamwastaken x reader #sapnap x reader #georgenotfound x reader #quackity x reader #karl jacobs x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #sapnap #quackity #georgenotfound #dsmp headcanons #dream team #dream smp x y/n #dtqk #dreamwastaken imagine #sapnap imagine #georgenotfound imagine #quackity imagine #karl jacobs imagine #mcyt x reader #dsmp #dsmp x reader #RPF

[vivgst]

Bodyguard!Valeria

Okay first of all I kinda hate this, I'm posting it again bc I had posted it privately (bc I'm stupid like that) Uh and it's not proofread so sorry in advance

Valeria was no stranger to hard work, everything she had achieved was because she had broken her back and cried tears of blood but she did not complain.

Right now she was cursing her life and all her ancestors though, she couldn't conceive that you were the most difficult thing of all, you were unbearable, so annoying and stubborn that sometimes she wanted to just vanish into thin air and forget about her damn plan, that's how much of a pain you were for her.

Not only were you putting your life at risk but also hers, you were the wife of the spider's son and one of the reasons why she had been almost forced to watch over you was so that that fucking man wouldn't beat the crap out of you anymore because of his jealousy, however, you weren't making it easy for Valeria.

You were so manipulative, you knew very well how to use your beauty to your advantage and you were so persistent that you managed to get her into your bed and it was so inevitable for her not to give in to your pleas, those caresses that drove her crazy and those kisses that she still couldn't forget.

That night was permanently on her mind, torturing her and reminding her that even though she always had you close, she could never touch you again or her plans would probably be ruined, she had already gained the trust of too many people to make such a carnal mistake as giving in to her impulses.

“Please, it's just a-” You slurred your words out of drunkenness and she rolled her eyes, her hand pressed to your throat, you could see she was upset but you didn't give a damn, like usual.

“Shut your damn mouth, do you want to get killed? Behave". Valeria snapped and she was so sick of you, you could see it, she was tense and her jaw clenched as she looked around to make sure no one had seen you as you rubbed against her and tried to kiss her, luckily the VIP area of ​​the club you two were in was quite secluded and no one was paying attention to you.

She kept her distance for the rest of the night, she stayed alert and watched you to make sure you didn't do something stupid but she didn't let you get too close until you arrived back at the mansion, she helped you go upstairs because you could barely walk properly and when she was going to leave you in the room you pulled her in and closed the door behind her, your husband was not there and you always took advantage of that, or at least that's what you tried to do.

"I have to take a shower". You murmured and kept pulling Valeria by the arm until you got in the bathroom, you weren’t letting her escape from you. “And you have to take care of me, what if I fall and hit my head? It will be your fault.” You grinned cynically at her and she scoffed as she shook her head, the worst part was that you were right and she hated it.

You got in the shower as soon as you undressed, the cold water ran through your whole body and made you shiver.

Her gaze inevitably ran over you from head to toe and she had to swallow hard and remind herself that the woman in front of her was forbidden, having you once had been greedy of her, she couldn't allow herself to have you again even if she wanted to... and oh how much she wanted to.

You, on the other hand, knew very well what you were doing, you slid your hands over your breasts, over your stomach until you reached your belly, you felt the heat between your legs as intense as ever, you had never been in a situation this erotic and you felt breathless, just like Valeria.

The only thing between you was the glass door, she couldn't take her eyes off your body even if she tried. It's not like she wanted to, she felt enchanted as if she was in a spell.

"Don’t do this to me". Valeria spoke almost out of breath, her voice was strained by everything she was feeling and you smiled as you put your hand between your thighs, you leaned against the shower door, the glass fogging up from your gasps and you began to massage your swollen bud that was soaking your fingers, your soft flesh was begging for another touch, it missed her hands. The water that fell on you was cold but not even that helped calm the heat you felt, the burning throughout your body.

Valeria was frozen in place, she couldn't stop looking at you, the way you touched yourself, your face, your whole body, she wanted to get into that shower and taste you until you couldn't stand up anymore, she wanted to turn you into a needy mess and feel your skin and your body against hers, it was a necessity at this point.

She couldn't control herself anymore and since she knew how things would end she preferred to run away, she left the bathroom and went into the room that your impertinent husband had assigned her, if you were sober enough to torture her that way then you were sober enough how to finish taking the damn shower without killing yourself.

She wasn't calming down, she was still panting and saying she was dripping was an understatement, she lay down on the bed and took a couple of deep breaths before cursing under her breath, doing that was giving in to all your fucking teasing but she couldn't help so she unzipped her pants in an attempt to calm the longing she felt for you right now.

And you went into the room, just what Valeria didn’t want... She growled, the tension she was feeling was enough to put her in a bad mood and now you were there to just make her feel even worse, it was a bad night, it was a bad job.

“No, get out.” Valeria spoke and you couldn't help the mischievous grin that adorned your face when you heard her, you knew that voice very well, you nibbled on your lip as you approached her bed, straddling her, your hand wrapping around her neck and the other going down her breasts, all over her torso until you put it inside her pants, you could feel how wet she was just from brushing her underwear with your fingers, her walls clenched around nothing, craving, longing to feel something inside, it was painful.

She was staring at you as she let out heavy pants, her body felt on fire and she knew she could take you off her lap if she really wanted to, you weren’t the strongest woman so she could just push you away, she could.

The question was... did she want to?

You gently caressed her over her underwear and put your hand inside, rubbing her flesh that was unusually soaked and you narrowed your eyes at her as you bit your lip, you were finally touching her again.

You lowered your fingers to her entrance and slowly sank them inside her, her walls clung to you, milking your fingers and your breath hitched in your throat, she was never this wet and the realization made you smirk, this was a first and you promised yourself right there that you would enjoy it.

“Oh… Are you ovulating?” You murmured in a mocking tone but Valeria didn't answer, she just glared at you as she gasped and you curled your fingers, rubbing that spot inside her that made her feel helpless and she whimpered. “That's why you're wet like a bitch in heat, right, honey?” You whispered softly, increasing the speed with which you massaged her g-spot.

“Screw you.” She snapped, feeling breathless, her moans were more audible now and it was killing you, you had never seen her this turned on, it was just making you feel desperate and needy.

You started grinding your hips against her thigh as you massaged her insides and she was so tight you felt like she would rip your fingers off, which meant she was close.

You pushed your thumb against her swollen nub, her thighs started to shake and you brought your lips to hers, you were doing what you wanted with her, but it wasn’t enough.

“I want you to get me out of here”. You spoke hoarsely as you kept working your fingers inside her, the heat of her insides were driving you insane. You loved feeling pleasure, but the most exciting part about having sex with Valeria was pleasuring her, making her weak until she couldn’t stop squirting.

“I will.” She breathed out, her arms clasping around your waist so she could feel you closer as her orgasm was crushing her whole body, you could feel it in your hand, the way she was tightening and tensing up, it was hot. And you moved your fingers harshly, harder just like you knew she liked it.

“I want to be with you, I don’t want to be with him”. You spoke close to her lips and she nibbled on your bottom lip, her body felt like it wasn’t hers anymore, it was yours, yours to control, to posses, she gave you the right.

“We…” Her words were silenced by her own moans, she couldn’t keep quiet like she intended to just a couple minutes ago because the feeling was overwhelming, it wasn’t just her wet cunt that was sensitive, it was her entire self, her nipples were stiff and you couldn’t see it because her bra was hugging her chest, it was uncomfortable, she wanted your soft hand around her breasts, circling her nipples, playing with that delicate skin you loved so much.

The sound of your fingers fucking her was so obscene, and soon enough you could hear how wet she was getting so you knew it was time to took them out.

Your gaze fell over your fingers, glistening with Valeria’s’ juices and you felt thirsty, you put them in your mouth and moaned as you felt her taste spread across your tongue.

The front door creaked and took you both out of the little cloud you were in. You quickly got off Valeria's lap and snuck to your room, just in time for your husband to come in and lie down next to you, thinking you were asleep or maybe not even thinking about you at all.

And you couldn't help but smirk as you imagined how happy you would be when this nightmare was over, just you, Valeria, and the empire you knew she would build.

#valeria garza #valeria cod #valeria mw2 #valeria garza x reader #valeria x reader #cod x reader #valeria thirst #valeria x f! reader #valeria x you #wlw #lesbian #call of duty #cod mw2 #sapphic #wlw post #cod x you #cod

[yandere-romanticaa]

Dabi is such an interesting character to me. I find it so fascinating how he says that he does not care about some things, how he could not give a single crap about anything that's going on. With his easygoing attitude and flat tone, no one could blame you for thinking that way.

It was one of the many reasons why you wanted to break up with him.

Falling for Dabi to begin with was beyond unexpected. The man positively reeked of trouble. The second he stepped foot in your favorite coffee shop, you know that the only thing that guy could bring was chaos. The way he carried himself was a dead giveaway, even if most of his face was covered. You had no idea that he was a wanted criminal at the time and perhaps that was one of the reasons why you approached him to begin with.

Besides, life was just dull. Nothing was going on in your life, no sparks, no excitement. Every single day started to feel like the same shade of grey, the old colours of the world morphing into something so forgettable that it made you want to pull out your hair. So what if talking to this guy was a possible mistake?

It was better than nothing, you told yourself.

You can still recall his strong smell - smoke with a hint of some cheap cologne, perhaps a vain attempt to cover up that third metallic smell which couldn't be hidden no matter how hard he tried. Beneath that dark hoodie of his you could see his lips twitching and just as he was going to tell you off for bothering him, you introduced yourself.

The rest was, as they say, history.

Dabi was a bit of a weirdo but you didn't mind. You enjoyed his quirks and even liked to compliment his appearance from time to time, which made the villain wonder just how sick in the head you really were.

He never made any moves to shoo you away though.

And that stone cold fact was something which the League would often make fun of him for it. Dabi would usually end their jabs and jeers with an annoyed scoff and just leave the bar, hands in his pockets but no one was buying it.

Dabi wasn't sure if he wanted you near those clowns. The thought of someone else oogling you, in the same manner as he did, set him off. Dabi started to make the effort of seeing you more, whether or not you knew he was actually there was up for debate. He stuck to the shadows, tailing you day and night and he would reveal himself only if he saw fit.

Dabi wasn't sure why he was doing this, wasting his time with some weak little civilian.

When the day had ended and the sun was setting, Dabi would lazily walk back home. His mind would be rushing with thoughts of you, his knuckles in a tight grip as he kept them hidden in his deep pockets.

He could kill you whenever and however he damn well pleased.

Dabi had the terrifying ability to snuff the life out of you, and that thought gave him a rush of adrenaline, dare he say confidence.

Your life really was in his hands.

You often felt the need to explain away Dabi's red flags - he's just tired, that's why he's so cranky! Oh, he got mad that you went out with someone else? Well, um... There are so many bad guys out there, it makes sense that he would be worried. Because that is what a good boyfriend did - worry about his precious baby.

Dabi was smart (even a little kind) enough to keep his burn scars hidden away from you but the ones on his face were impossible to conceal. The villain would often find himself enchanted by your gentle touch as you'd trace your delicate fingers across the rough flesh, a stark contrast to the sheer softness you radiated.

He was often torn between two options - does he keep that softness safe or will he sink his fangs deep in your neck, claim you all for himself?

Day after day, the second opinion started to sound so much more appealing.

Dabi's love was all over the place. There would be times when you would hardly ever see him. No calls, no texts, no nothing. For all you knew he could have been dying in a ditch somewhere and you'd be none the wiser. You tried countless times to open up to you about his job but he would just shut you down in record speed. He would never get annoyed or angry with these questions but that did not ease your worries.

And with the prying eyes of friends and relatives, it got even harder to keep yourself so delusionally in love.

None approved of your relationship with Dabi. You shed countless tears due to their harsh protests, which often meant that you would run away straight into the arms of the main issue. Dabi would hold you in your bed, his arms wrapped tightly around you. His shirt would be covered in your tears and snot. Perhaps he would grumble about it later but not at the moment.

He was not a good person, but he did not want to be a complete monster towards you.

After these incidents, almost everyone who was ever close with you would start dropping like flies. All died violent, brutal deaths with the main cause usually being severe burns inflicted on the victims of various parts of their bodies. Sometimes the scarring was so deep that even days later the corpse would radiate heat, the disgusting smell or rot forever sticking to your nostrils.

To describe the experience of being forced to identify those bodies as "traumatic" would have been the understatement of the century.

The walk back home was excruciating, perhaps even a little otherworldly. There was no left in the world who cared for you anymore, no one you could run to for safety and comfort.

The only one who you had left was Dabi.

Maybe, it wasn't so bad, being with him that is. Yeah, he could be a little mean sometimes but he would always make it up to you. Dabi would call you his doll and pepper your face with gentle kisses, which often made you giggle. Sure, not knowing what Dabi was doing at the dead of night made you worry so much that you would sob until the cracks of daylight but that was okay because he would always cross the threshold of your home in one piece.

You only had Dabi to worry about, and that was... Odd to manage.

Gone were the walks with friends, meals with family. There was no living soul on this Earth which cared about you, wanted to see you happy and thrive.

Dabi was the only person left in your life.

And that was when the horrible realization hit like a bucket of ice cold water.

Dabi was the only person you had left.

Every single complaint, he had memorized them, each and every one. You knew that this was the case as he would sometimes bring up the most random things you had said months after you said them to begin with, proving the fact that he actually was paying attention.

The door opens with a powerful slam which startles the man. He asks you what's the problem but all hell breaks loose.

You scream, shout, cry. You accuse him of every possible crime he could have committed and he says nothing. Dabi sits on the sofa, his legs crossed as his cheek rests on the palm of his hand. You go on and on and Dabi doesn't bother to stop you.

Not until he lets out a deep chuckle.

Took ya long enough, he said to you. The tips of his fingers ignited with blue flames, a silent threat to keep you from screaming. You couldn't even bolt towards the door and there were no other escape routes.

He finally had you where he wanted you.

Dabi wasn't stupid. He knew that you planned on dumping him for a while now. He could not allow that, not now. Not when you had forced your way deep into his heart and made a home there. Dabi had nothing in this world and he made sure that you had nothing either.

Now, you had each other. And to him, that was more than enough.

#i was NOT kidding when i said I'm back in my bnha era #and ngl i missed writing for this maniac #yaaaaaasss king slayyy #SLAYYYYYY #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere male #mha dabi #bnha dabi #yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #dabi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #boku no hero acedamia #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere mha #yandere mha x reader

[newbakerontheblock]

18+ Tim Bradford x YN

Warning: SMUT, throat grabbing.. think that’s it!

Never written smut before so please enjoy!

You watch as he slams the door of his locker, clearly agitated being your TO. You hold back a sigh and an eye roll, knowing it’d make the shift longer.

“Grab the gear, boot.” He snaps as he walks out.

He’s barely said 2 words to you so you’re unsure of where this attitude come from, but knowing his reputation you weren’t surprised. But it’d be easier to hate him if he wasn’t so easy on the eyes. Grabbing the gear and putting it in the shop. You climb into the passenger seat whilst he sits waiting for you.

“What’s the plan today, sir?” You ask as nicely as possible.

“Patrol.” He replies in a huff.

The next few hours pass through very slowly so low priority calls, but nothing can break the tension rising in the shop. You notice how his jaw twitches and his hands clutch the steering wheel tighter if you utter a single word. Your tether close to snapping, TO or not you wanted the respect you deserve. But you can’t help but notice the warmth pooling down below at his anger. You think about that hand being wrapped around your neck whilst he fucks you.

After more silence, you decide to give in and ask,

“Why do you hate me?”

“What was that, boot?” He seems distracted and you snap.

“I said why do you hate me? I know you’re my TO and I need to be super nice to you to better my chances here but goddamn I deserve a little respect, you talk down to me and treat me like crap! If you’ve got an issue with me just come out with it already!” The words come tumbling out too fast and you realised your mistake.

The shop is suddenly being parked in a layby and you’re forced to be face to face with Officer Bradford.

The tension is at an all time high, and rather than shouting at you like you expected, he kissed you. It took no time at all for you to kiss him back. Both grabbing at each other, careless to the fact you need oxygen.

“I wish I hated you, then I wouldn’t put us in the position” he whispered against your lips.

“Fuck..” you whispered and kissed him again.

Without care to the outside world, you climb over to his lap. You unbuttoned his shirt whilst he was kissing your neck, finding your soft spot. Causing you to rock against his lap with a breathless moan. You could tell how hard he was under all the clothes and couldn’t wait anymore. Running your fingers down his naked chest and unbuckling his belt.

“Pull them down.” You demanded.

“Fuck, whatever you say, YN” You noticed momentarily he called you by your name and not boot. But the moment passed when his hard erection was pulled from his pants.

He wastes no time pulling your trousers and pants off, both of you ignoring the awkward movements of undressing in the car. The need for him was too great to care. Before you had a chance to line him up he ran his finger through your folds, circling the clit.

Your head is tossed back, moaning and hands gripping his shoulders hard. His free hand touches your cheek and guides your face so you’re looking at him.

“Keep watching me,” He whispered as he lined himself up with you.

Slowly you sit down fully and the sensation of him filling you was so intense. He was so hard and felt so good inside of you, like you were made for each other.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck YN” Tim groans as his hands find your waist. He pulls you down on his cock harder and you gasp.

“Tim, Jesus, fuck me hard please!”

He kisses your lips swiftly and begins thrusting upwards whilst pulling you down on his cock. Your insides fluttering, you’ve never been fucked so good before. You’re both breathless as the car steams up. As you feel your high coming, you needed a little more so you grabbed his hand and wrapped it round your throat. He gave a little squeeze and groaned at the reaction of you tensing on his cock.

“I need to cum” you whine.

“Cum with me. YN. Fuck you feel so fucking good.”

You knew you were going to be sore tomorrow the way he was pounding in you right now. But you didn’t care at all. You never wanted to stop this.

His free hand made its way downwards and started circling your clit, without any warning your orgasm tore through you, with the clenching of your pussy around his cock, he came with you.

Once the stars had faded from your vision you looked at him properly, and realised he was smiling.

“You’ve never smiled at me before.” You say, running a hand through his hair.

“I have, I just don’t let you see. I don’t want to ruin your career with this. I want you more than anything but I can’t ruin your future.” He looked at you earnestly.

“You will never ruin my future, Tim. I want you. This is what I want.”

He kissed you again, but this time savouring the moment. Only when you broke apart did you realise where you were. Quickly redressing before being caught.

“Hope you turned your body cam off.” He laughed.

Joining in with his laughter you slap him on the arm.

“Just drive, sir”

“Whatever you say boot”

Sorry if it’s bad!! I’ve never written smut ever but there’s barely any smut about Tim Bradford and wanted to try! Please let me know what you think.

#smut #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #the rookie #tim x reader #smut smut smut #yn

[sthavoc]

Hiii! Love your work! Could you do one like there are rumors Enzo really likes skinny blondes and you feel insecure of your curves and dark hair and eyes so you avoid him to not fall harder for him and he notices, but then all of you go out to have fun and you start dancing bachata with a stranger but Enzo is like oh hell no let me show you how to dance with a real man, you can choose the ending ! thank youuuuu

🕺🏼💃🏻⭒˚｡ 𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

𖥔 ࣪˖ pairing: enzo x darkhair!curvey!reader

𖥔 ࣪˖ summary: after hearing about the rumors of enzo only liking blondes with skinny bodies, you attempt to push your feelings aside by avoiding him. Which Is not easy to do so when both of you are in the same friend group and get invited to go out for a few drinks. but as they say, rumors are just rumors.

𖥔 ࣪˖ warnings: alcohol. jealousy

𖥔 ࣪˖ note: holy crap you’re blessing us with this request!! I hope u enjoy it!<3 and omg it reminded me of this edit that i’ll leave the link HERE if u haven’t seen it… yk I had to use that song. I hope there’s no grammar mistakes.

You don’t remember the last time you ever felt like you wanted to cry for a boy. Or in this case, a man. That was because you never did. I mean, not for a man but you did for boys. Always setting their standards to perfect. That pissed you off.

So when you heard about the rumors of Enzo only having an eye for blonde-headed girls with skinny waists and perfect bodies, you felt as if your chance of being with him was gone. Yet you couldn’t help but like him, and you were mad at yourself for that. Your heart would ache with the feeling that every time you thought you had finally found someone with a good kind heart would turn out to want something you just didn’t have. You started thinking the only way to get rid of those feelings was to ignore him, and you started to do so.

Every day after work, if the guys invited you somewhere and you knew Enzo would be there, your immediate answer would always be. “Lo siento tengo cosas que hacer.” or “No me siento bien.”

Which was all bullshit. The guys themselves knew it was bullshit, but they didn’t want to push it. Matias knew the truth though. He once caught you crying after a scene and you couldn’t lie to him, you told him everything. He tried his very best to make you feel better, almost using every small technique he would know due to his relationship with Male. You were thankful, but nothing would help. After those days that you had cut all kinds of contact with Enzo, you felt as if you were getting better.

It's possible that your feelings for him may have faded, but you won't know for sure until you see or talk to him. However, you don't want to take that risk.

You were currently in the process of gathering your belongings to head back to your hotel room for a relaxed afternoon. You had planned on spending the day watching a movie, maybe sipping on some wine. While making your way towards the exit, Juani appeared in front of you with a grin on his face, causing you to come to a sudden halt and emit a squeaky noise from your sneakers.

“Juani, no espantes por Dios.” You sighed staring at the blue-eyed boy. “¿Que se te ofrece?” Your hand clutched the strap of your duffle bag that rested on your shoulder.

“Que vengas de joda con nosotros.” His brows raised and yours furrowed. “Dale que ya no sales con nosotros nunca. Te la vives en el hotel.”

He was right. Being alone in your hotel room every night made you feel like you were back in high school, when you would stay home every day because you had no one to hang out with. But now, you do have people to spend time with, and yet you're pushing them away. All because of a man.

You blinked a couple of times before you swallowed for your answer. “Bueno, dale.”

Juani throws a thumbs up in the air and smiles behind you which makes you confused. His action made you turn around and you noticed some of the guys there. Juani focused his attention on you and then spoke—

“A las 7:00 p.m.” He points at you before heading back to the group of guys who you assumed were waiting for him.

—

The music was blasting in your ears, and you could feel the thumping rhythm echoing through your chest. This was just the kind of hang-out you needed, a break from all the overthinking about the Enzo situation and the draining work. It was time to let loose and have some fun.

Until—

“Hasta que te dejas ver nena.” Enzo.

Your cheeks held the bitter liquor and you swallowed slowly as you looked at him. A nervous laugh escapes your lips before you respond. “Sí. ¿Verdad?”

“Te diría que me estuvieras evitando eh.” Which you were doing.

“No-no. Cómo crees.” You lied as a scowl followed your complexions.

You were relieved when the rest of the boys joined you and were quick to take Enzo’s attention. A sigh escaped your lips as you waved for the bartender to fill up your cup again. You didn’t take long to down it all and ask for another, that was until you felt a figure sit on to the stool next to you. Your face turned towards their direction and it was a guy.

“Una chica como tú no debe de andar sola eh.” He raises his brows for a second before his index finger points towards you.

You chuckled dryly as you responded. “No, no estoy sola. Estoy con ellos.” You motion towards the boys, while glancing back. That’s when you realized Enzo was gone.

“Tienes a tu equipo de guardaespaldas.” He jokes causing a giggle to leave your lips. “Te invito otra.” pointing towards your glass he calls the bartender to refill your glass.

“Gracias pero no tenías por qué.” You smiled kindly.

“Para nada. Eres linda y te ves como el tipo de chica que es divertida.” He shrugged taking a sip of his drink. “¿Como te llamas?”

“T/N.”

“Alejandro.”

“Mucho gusto.” You took a sip of your drink.

After a moment you turned to look around and you saw everybody on the dance floor move without a care in the world. You wanted to dance, and it seemed like Alejandro noticed it too.

“¿Bailamos?” He requested. You thought about it for a moment, and you weren’t going to deny that he was cute. But this was also someone who could maybe be interested in you. Plus, this was supposed to be a fun night out.

“Sí.” You grabbed his hand and walked over to the dance floor.

The boys watched as you walked away with Alejandro. Some looked surprised and some had smirks on their lips. The music changed into a Spanish one. Bachata to be exact. Propuesta Indecente by Romeo Santos played. Everyone who had a partner started to dance and move their hips sensually. Alejandro’s hands began resting on the curve of your hips and you positioned yours to lock behind his neck.

The two of you began to move your hips to the music and you would roll your body against his. Though you hadn’t noticed it, Enzo was staring at the both of you dance. He had gone to the bathroom and when he came back, he wasn't pleased with what he saw.

“Te la robaron pelotudo.” Juani makes fun of him. Enzo only turned to look at him with a cold stare. “No me mires así que no es mi culpa.”

“¿Quien es ese?” Enzo asked with a motion of his chin towards the both of you.

“No sabemos, vino y se le acercó a la nena.” Rocco took a sip of his drink and then answered.

Enzo could only continue staring at the two of you before he thought of something. He downed his drink before he turned to look at Juani. “Fíjate que a mí nadie me la roba.”

“Espérate pero que haces salame.” Matías’ voice only got quieter as Enzo walked closer to the both of you and got farther from them.

Your heart leaped into your throat as you and Enzo locked eye while stopping Alejandro.

“¿No te molesta si dejas que te la robe?” Enzo directed a question towards Alejandro, but his gaze seemed to be fixed on you.

“Eh— no, no. Para nada.” After a brief pause, he strode off the dancefloor.

“¿Pero que haces? Sí estábamos bailando perfectamente.” You questioned with furrowed eyebrows. He was ruining your moment.

“Ay, dale chiquita que eso no fue bailar bien—” He grabbed your hand, setting his on your waist before he pulled you towards him making you bump your chest onto his. His action made you look up at him. “Yo te enseño a bailar con un hombre.”

His leg was set between yours and you felt how he began to move the two of you. With his hands on your hips, you didn’t even need to move them, he guided you. His whole body rolled on yours, and you felt how his hand turned you around so you would back face him. This was new. Your lips were opened in surprise as his breathing hit your neck. Your hair was all messy and a few strings rested on your face. You could even feel how the exposed skin of your stomach came in contact with the pads of his fingers.

He pulled back as he began to twirl you around for a few seconds. Your hair moved everywhere with you as he kept increasing the speed of your twirl. Until he stopped and pulled you back towards him when the beat dropped. Your breathing was insane as you looked up to him, he only stared at you with a smirk while he continued to rest his hands on the curves of your waist.

Before the song ended, he added a final twist where he ended up pulling you by the back of your neck and connecting your foreheads. As the music changed, you became aware of your breath and adjusted it to a more comfortable level.

He chuckled when he noticed that you were left speechless.“¿Que, te comió la lengua el ratón?”

You stammered around your words but managed to spit them out. “No sabía que bailabas tan bien.”

“No es algo que haga con cualquiera.” He shrugged not thinking too much about it.

You gazed at him, your cheeks flushed with warmth. “Pues eres muy bien bailador.”

As he gazed at you, a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins, emboldening him to ask the question that had been on his mind—

“¿Me dejas llevarte a comer?” He speaks without thinking once again.

“¿Me estás invitando a salir?” To be fair, you seemed genuinely confused about everything that was happening.

“Sí.” He nodded not thinking much of his answer.

You experienced a mix of emotions - happiness because he asked you out, but confusion because you thought he had a specific taste, which wasn't you.

“Pensé que solo te gustaban las rubias.” You had decided to speak your thoughts. That question had made Enzo confused, and his expression briefly revealed his bewilderment—

“¿Como?”

“¿Sí. Rubias, con cuerpos perfectos” A nod followed your words. Enzo laughed, causing anger to rise in your face.“¿De que te ríes?”

“¿De donde sacas tremenda cosa nena?” As he talks, he draws out the final word, while putting his hand in the air and scrunching his eyebrows.

“todos lo dicen.” You say, which only adds to his confusion.

He clicked his tongue as he opened his mouth. “Ya y con todos imagino que decís las fans.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked at you. “Nena, no puedes creer todo lo que ves en el internet.”

You swallowed, a bit embarrassed. “Tienes razón.”

“Esta bien. ¿Pero qué dices? Déjame llevarte a una cita. Y te demuestro que no solo me gustan las rubias con cuerpos perfectos.” He came closer.

He had a sincere expression on his face, indicating that he was telling the truth. You couldn't deny that you were pleased to hear that the rumors about the man you liked were false. You still had a chance with him, and you weren't going to let it slip away.

“Dale.” You smiled as his lips mirrored your expression.

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