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pandoraslxna · 11 months

Note

Reader & Lo'ak making out with him on top of her dry humping/grinding into her aggressively

Please 🙏🏻

Close ain’t close enough

adult Lo‘ak x female human reader

Words: 2.3k

Summary: Even though your relationship was still fairly new, you couldn’t stop overthinking how certain things could even work out, between a human and a Na‘vi.

Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, dry humping, size difference, mentions of belly bulging, making out, cuddling, fluff, dirty talk

Na’vi translations:

Tiyawn - love

Sevin - pretty

Love was the last thing you were looking for when you fled from the RDA and sought refuge in one of the Na’vi clans, around a year and a half ago. But the omatikaya say, that the hearts compass will always guide you true.

And guiding you it did, right into the arms of the olo’eyktan’s son. A young warrior, just a couple of years older than you. A carbon copy of his father in any way, but with metkayina tattoos littered across his chest. A constant reminder of the time he had spent living within another clan, far away from the forest he calls home, back when his own family sought refuge from the war too.

An experience that sort of formed a connection and later a bond between you both. Sharing similar memories, similar emotions of feeling lost and like an outsider quickly became the topic of your very first conversations with each other.

It feels like an eternity had passed since then.

The room Norm had assigned you with wasn’t exactly small, you’ve seen a lot worse here in hells gate. And you were grateful for everything they provided you with, since it was a privilege to even be here in the first place. But with a full grown Na’vi in his twenties, sprawled out over your human-sized bed, your room definitely seemed a little cramped.

It had been around a month ago, since Lo‘ak blurted out that he was in love with you. He’s never been one to overthink things, always living after this silly do-now, think-later mentality. He just told you straight away, when he realized that his feelings for you held way more than any friendship could carry. You, on the other hand, began to overthink a lot. Not about any emotions or feelings— no, you were clearly head over heels in love with the four fingered Na‘vi.

But there was the significant fact that you were a human, a small, oxygen breathing, human. And he was a big, easily eight or nine feet tall, Na‘vi. Even crouching down, Lo‘ak was still big enough to rest his chin on top of your head.

And as children growing up in war, physical affection was something you were both pretty much starved in, so it immediately became some sort of love language for the both of you. Even as friends, ones touch bought the other great comfort. But now that there was something else besides friendship growing between you and Lo‘ak, a simple touch such as holding hands, hugging or cuddling, soon wasn’t enough anymore. It was far from enough, actually.

As you and Lo’ak watched some random movie that Norm had recommended you, your hands almost naturally sought each other out. When your fingers touched beneath the blanket, you had turned to him and smiled softly. He huffed a fond laugh at you through his nose and hooked your fingers together. Focused on the film, you touched absentmindedly. Lo‘ak would massage your fingertips, enjoying how your four fingered hand felt against his own and you would soothingly rub your thumb across the back of his big palm. It was like a perfectly coordinated dance routine, familiar and comfortable.

Every one or two minutes, Lo’ak reached for the mask around his neck, taking supplementary sips of carbon dioxide.

Everything felt peaceful. From the noises of the small TV, to the faint hum of his breathing mask, to the slide of your hands caressing one another. You always felt so incredibly relaxed and content when you were with him.

But even though your relationship was still fairly new, you couldn’t stop thinking about that there were things that you probably could never share with him. Things that couldn’t work out– at least not how they would in a normal relationship. In basically any relationship, where both parties are from the same species, to begin with.

Things, such as being intimate with one another.

Even thinking about it made your mind spin, palms feeling a little sweaty and cheeks flushing a flustered red.

Right on cue, Lo‘ak pulls you just a little closer. And then a hand comes down to lay on your thigh, feeling the soft fabric of your leggings and gently squeezing the flesh underneath. Looking up at him with a raised brow, he only glanced back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Lo‘aks hand doesn't stop, though. He begins gently rubbing up and down your thigh, fingertips coming dangerously close to touching your core, where a damp spot was already forming on your underwear, despite your internal voice begging your body to calm down. He wasn’t even doing anything yet. It was just his hand on your thigh.

You bite back a gasp when he grips the meat of your inner thigh more firmly. You could feel your resolve crumble more by the second. It gets worse when Lo‘ak leans down to place a gentle kiss on your shoulder, where the straps of your top had slipped down a little and exposed your skin to him.

"Lo‘ak…", you say softly, exhaling a breathe you didn’t even realize you were holding since he had placed a hand on your thigh.

"Hmh?"

"I thought we agreed on taking it slow?" There’s a coy smile on your lips that you weren’t able to hide, along with a playful tone in your voice that almost sounded a little too tempting to his ears.

"What, so now I can’t even kiss my pretty little girlfriend anymore?", he grins and you roll your eyes with a giggle. "We couldn’t take it any slower if we tried, tiyawn"

Another kiss was placed right on top of your collarbone, while he snug his arms around your middle and rolled himself on top of you. His face was now nearly pressed against the space between your breasts and you could feel him inhale deeply, mumbling something you couldn’t quite pick up, but was probably something about how you smelled good.

Your heart begins to beat harder in your chest when you feel him repositioning himself, so your legs were on either side of his hips, spread as wide as you could manage to make room for him.

Lo‘ak grasps at your legs, more in desperation than anything else. His hands roughly massage your plump skin and then he drapes them over his arms and hooks them up higher. At this angle, you were nearly folded in a half and even though Lo‘ak was careful not to crush you under his weight, there was a certain pressure he put on your pelvis with his own hips. This time, there was no way to hold back the gasp escaping your lips, when you finally felt it. His cock, stirring to life underneath his loincloth and pressed snugly against your clothed cunt.

This was new. Touching each other wasn’t new, but the closeness. Feeling each other like this. This was definitely new.

Overcome with need, Lo‘ak moves to press his lips against yours, his tongue instantly wedges itself into your mouth and curls around your own. He suddenly can't think of anything but touching you, in any way he can. You yelp into the kiss, surprised by it’s suddenness, but after a beat, you melt into it, tangling your fingers in his braided hair. Tingles run down his neck at the feeling of your fingers and their movements against his scalp.

Lo‘ak allows himself to move, carefully testing the waters as he grinds himself against you just once. He groans at the feeling of your puffy lips against his cock, perceptible even through the thin fabric of your pants.

Breaking the kiss, Lo’ak exhales shakily, overwhelmed by the reality of the situation, "You don’t make this easy for me, sevin."

He allows himself to look down at where your hips contact one another, feeling his composure slip by the sheer sight of it. He catches himself wishing there were less layers of clothing separating you, as he watches his hard cock glide over your covered pussy.

Lo‘ak looks back up at your face, gazing into your glassy eyes. His beautiful little human girlfriend is pinned beneath him, grasping at him. With lips swollen from a heated kiss and cheeks flushed into a deep shade of red. He presses a kiss right there on the apple of your cheek and even though your face felt hot, his lips were still warm against your skin.

The next kiss is placed on the lobe of your ear, pointy teeth carefully grazing it before he buried his face completely in the crook of your neck.

Another buck of his hips against yours has your mind spiraling. This time, you could clearly feel the outline of his cock. The length alone must’ve been almost half of your forearm, with a girth that would be enough to split you clean in half. Of course a part of you hoped that you were wrong, but apparently all the concerns and the overthinking really was justified.

There was no way that would ever fit inside you.

"I just want to… just want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so bad", Lo‘ak pants and the next sound that flees from your mouth is a noise similar to a whimper, when his tip brushes against your clit. Learning fast, Lo‘ak repeats the same motion again, his length throbbing painfully to the sound of your little mewls and whimpers.

"Eywa, you feel so good like this", he groans, putting just a little more pressure into his thrusts to feel the outline of your cunt against him. "But I can’t stop thinking about how perfect your pussy would feel, wrapped around me so tight."

You moan at the sound of his voice, hot and low, speaking directly into your ear, combined with the way he was aggressively dry humping you now.

"Lo‘ak", your breathy sigh sends a pleasant shiver coursing down his spine. His name has never sounded so sweet before.

"Hmm you’d squeeze me so good, wouldn’t you? And you would be so full of my cock. O-Oh fuck."

One of the hands that’s been grabbing your hips suddenly moves between your bodies to caress your stomach, thumb running in gentle circles around your navel.

"I wonder if I could make your cute tummy bulge, if I could watch my cock move inside you. What do you think, huh?"

You moan and you try to nuzzle yourself against him as much as you can, gasping against his shoulder, "Y-You’re gonna make me cum!" You could really feel it starting to build. You could feel how hard Lo‘ak humping you was starting to pay off. His hips roll against yours frantically and you’re trying not to be too loud as he gazes at you with those blown-out yellow eyes, a look of anticipation on his face.

"Yeah? You’re coming?", Lo’ak grunts roughly, still lifting and dropping his hips with maximum effort. He feels himself getting lost in his imagination, closing his eyes to make him believe that he was actually buried deep inside of you right now and not just humping your clothed cunt like he was some horny teen that’s never touched a woman before. "Shit, baby, i’m close too." He pushes his face back against your neck, panting into your sweaty skin.

Your cunt clenches down on nothing, desperate for his cock, but for right now, more desperate to come than anything else.

"Want to burry my cock into that tight little pussy of yours, want to stretch you nice and wide, see how much of me you can take." He’s rambling now, groaning and panting against you throat. Occasionally, he’s quiet in favor of kissing and sucking on your skin, licking every inch he could reach. His hands hold you in a bruising grip, pulling your hips up and against him as he continues to grind his cock on you.

"P-Please I’m… I’m so close, don’t stop!"

"Can feel how wet you are, baby. You’re fucking drenched, just look at you, making a mess on both ours clothes."

Lo’ak’s right. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel it. Could feel the wetness seep out of you like sticky syrup, soaking your underwear and then your leggings, before they stained his loincloth too. The way his cock was bumping against your clit over and over again didn’t really help with that either, but you were too far gone to care or feel embarrassed about it.

Feeling the same kind of euphoria, Lo’aks eyes flutter closed again, his lids suddenly far too heavy to hold open for another second. Turning your heard, your lips brush his, the barest hint of contact as you pant into each others mouths.

Your orgasm damn-near kills you.

The sheer intensity of your pleasure, combined with the sugar-sweet warmth of your love for him, has tears pearling on your lashes and black dots creeping in at the corners of your vision. It feels like gravity has increased exponentially, trying to force him down against you even harder as you come.

His body is completely unmoving against yours, except for the rhythmic jolt of his hips as spurts of cum seep through the fabric of his loincloth. With every uncontrollable thrust, Lo‘ak grunts softly, pleasure pulsing through his body. Even though his vision is blurry and his mind is foggy, he lifts his head up slightly, making sure to get a glance at you as you’re in the midst of your orgasm.

You look so beautiful. Your eyes are tightly shut, which only highlights your long lashes. Your lips look nibbled red, and even the sweat sliding down your temple looks like something that could only be crafted by Eywa herself.

You both rock soothingly in unison with one another, riding out your highs. You feel sticky basically everywhere and are hit with sudden senses of exhaustion, but you’re kept awake by Lo’aks languidly kissing to the sound of the movie’s end credits rolling on the TV.

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thef1diary · 2 months

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Little Big Fan | Nine

— Little Big Phone Calls

Series Masterlist

wc: 1.7k

Ever since you had brought Isabella home from the hospital, quite a few things happened.

Twenty-four hours after she was discharged, Tyler finally had the nerve to give you a call. You debated whether or not you should pick up the call as you glared at the screen while it rang, but then you didn't want to stoop down to his level either.

"Is Isabella okay?" were his first words, and if it weren't then you definitely would've unleashed hell upon him. "Yeah she's okay, no thanks to you," you scoffed.

Then he proceeded to claim that you didn't have the right to take Isabella home from the hospital because she was supposed to stay with him for the weekend. You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you considered how to explain the issue to him in a calm manner.

"You weren't even there when it happened," you started, but then he had the audacity to interrupt you, "I was in a meeting."

"You're always in a fucking meeting! You left our daughter with Emma, it is not her responsibility to take care of our child." You lost your patience rather quickly, and you were glad that Isabella was currently at a classmate's birthday party so she didn't hear your argument. Leave it to her to quickly befriend others.

He was silent for a moment, "Emma is my girlfriend, and she doesn't have an issue with staying with Isabella so neither should you."

You paced around the room, having a strong urge to throw the phone against the wall. "Emma is not the problem, I'm grateful for her actually. The issue is that you need to get your shit together and choose if you want to be a father or a businessman, and quite frankly, you're doing a shit job at both right now."

You didn't wait for his response, hanging up and tossing your phone on your desk while burying your head in your palms.

Then, to make matters worse, you realized that Max's ten-day vacation was almost over, because he had to return to racing. You had quickly become accustomed to his presence and began missing him the moment he left your house a few days later.

You may or may not have hugged him for a few minutes too long on the day he was leaving, especially after knowing that he would be busy with back to back races for two weeks.

When you parted away, Max placed his palms on your cheeks and made direct eye contact with you. "When I'm back, me and you are going on that date," he stated in a tone of finality and you nodded, agreeing with him. "I'll be waiting."

Ruffling Isabella's hair until she smacked his hands away before smoothing it herself, Max had to remind her of school when she asked if he would take her to the races as well. He would have agreed if he had been a little more gullible.

"Gifts?" She settled for instead, earning a laugh from Max and widened eyes from you. "Isabella!" You exclaimed but couldn't hold back your smile at her request.

She shrugged, looking at Max, "if you want," she added. "Always," he responded, since he had already planned on buying a few gifts for both of you.

Then it was just you and Isabella, and even then you were alone when you returned home after dropping her off at school. You never had a problem with being alone at home until you experienced the joy of being with others.

—

Isabella was up bright and early on race day, considering that the race took place earlier in the morning in your time zone. However, you knew she would take a nap as soon as the podium celebrations were over, not wanting to stay up for the interviews. Which is exactly what she did after the last race you watched together, but her "tiredness" could've been due to the fact she was disappointed that Max had not won that race.

You remember the conversation you had with him after that race, and he was quite upset—rightfully so in your opinion as it wasn't a driver issue, but rather a technical problem.

"I don't think my lucky charm works from such a distance," he told you, making you furrow your brows, "what lucky charm?"

"You, of course. Please come to another race soon," he explained, earning a chuckle from you with a blush rising to your cheeks. "I'll think about it."

Today’s race was a different story, because Max had been leading during the entire weekend, always coming out on top for all the practices, qualifying, and even during the race itself.

Later that night, Max called you and you immediately congratulated him for the win. "See, you don't need a lucky charm." He made a sound in denial, "I think it's because I called you right before getting in the car, but we can test it properly when you're at a race again."

"You'll have to try harder than that to convince me," you teased with a chuckle. "I have two more weeks to convince you in person, I think I can manage."

"You're going to be here for the whole two weeks?" You could hear the grin in his voice, "I'm flying out in two days, plus the last time I checked, I have a date with the most attractive woman I know and I am not cancelling those plans at all."

You muttered his name, "did I ever tell you that you're the sweetest." He hummed, "maybe, but I don’t mind hearing it again."

"You're the sweetest, kindest and I'm glad you're coming back."

"Did you think I wouldn't?" You shrugged, "well, I thought you would be busy with the season and all." He was quiet for a moment, making your jaw drop, "you didn't."

He hummed and you gasped, "Max..."

"Yes, schat?" He pretended as if nothing was wrong. "Did you cancel any plans for the week?" You asked, slipping past the unknown word he used, knowing that you'll be searching it up later.

"None were as important as flying back to you, but I think that Christian is keeping an eye on me," he revealed and while you wanted to comment on his words, you were intrigued by his boss. "Why's that?"

"He keeps wondering why I am more interested in my phone than the meetings." You couldn't hold in your laugh, "Max, I had no idea you were in meetings while texting me."

Before the conversation could continue on, you heard pitter patter of footsteps coming down the stairs. You noticed the time, and it was past Isabella's usual bedtime so you wondered why she was still awake.

"Hold on, Max, I think Bella's awake." Isabella walks towards you with a shy smile, quickly climbing onto the couch and cuddling you.

You didn’t hang up, instead you put your phone on the side as you wrapped your arms around her. "Mama, do I have to go to daddy's next week?"

"You don't want to?" You asked while brushing your fingers through her hair. You felt her shrug, "I don't know."

"Did something happen?" You pulled back to see her face that had a frown growing. "I met Emma,"

"Yeah? How is she?" Her frown turned into a small smile as she thought of Emma, "very nice, she plays some games with me, oh and we baked together too."

"That's good..but?" You urged, watching her small smile slip back into a frown. "But daddy doesn't spend time with me anymore and he says bad things about you."

You raised your brow, wanting to focus on your daughter's words before you think about having another conversation with Tyler. "Like what?"

"He says that you're not a good person but I think you're amazing! You're the best mama in the whole world." Her little arms reached around you, placing a small kiss on your cheek.

"Aw thank you, angel," you peppered kisses all over her cheeks until she started giggling.

"So do I have to go?" She asked, snuggling up next to you while fighting back a yawn. You shook your head, "no, if you don't want to, then you don't have to go."

"Good, I want to spend time here, with you and Maxy," her toothy grin was back as soon as she mentioned him. "With Max? You like him?" You could've guessed her answer but it was reassuring when she nodded, "sooo much, he's so nice and he buys me ice cream and glittery clips."

You threw your head back with a laugh, "oh Bella, you can't just like him because he buys things for you."

"But mama he's also nice and he makes you smile." She stated, making you snap your head towards her, and you could see her smile turning a little mischievous.

"What?" She shifted in your lap, wrapping her fingers in your hair as she continued speaking, "I like it when you smile and he makes you smile, right mama?"

"Yeah he does." You glanced at the phone, the call still ongoing so you know Max heard every part of your conversation.

Looking back at your daughter, you suggested, "why don't you go back to sleep, you have school tomorrow morning."

"Can you read me a story?" She asked with hopeful eyes, and you quickly nodded, "of course, why don't you get all comfy in bed and I'll be right there?"

"Okay mama." you kissed her forehead before she slid off your lap, running back upstairs.

You pick up the phone again, "are you still there?" Max hummed in response, "yeah, I'm here."

"I'm guessing you heard everything," you didn't mind it at all, but still needed confirmation. "I did. She not wrong, you are an amazing mother." He chose not to comment on the topic relating to your ex, knowing that it would ruin the mood.

"I've had help lately," your tone indicates that you're speaking of Max as help. "I try."

"Before Bella comes back down to ask for you again, I have to say one thing," Max started and you urged him to continue, "go on,"

"You make me smile too," he stated, reiterating the comment made by your daughter.

Taglist: (continuing the taglist in comments) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo

#little big fan fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #thef1diary fic #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #fluff

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luveline · 4 months

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Hey jade, I hope you had a good Christmas,

Love your writing so much it brings me so much serotonin 🤣🤣 I have a request for hotch if you’d be up to it, I just love this man’s patience and understanding and would love to see him interact with reader who struggles with sex? Or just sexual stuff in general, like maybe she feels really embarrassed about it and doesn’t know how to talk about it with him? Idk if this is something you’d be interested in just thought I’d throw it out there. Regardless, I can’t wait to see what you post next ♥️♥️♥️

hotch lends you some comfort when a certain topic flusters you, 1.1k

cw adult themes, mdni

“It's almost cheaper to have kids.”

You scoop your gaze from the deodorants. “What?” you ask, looking first to Hotch, and then to his eyeline. “Oh.”

The grocery store boasts a few rows of contraceptives. Condoms, dental dams, and under that, lubes and stimulants in candy rainbow colours. Thirty one ninety nine for silicone-free, aloe vera flavoured lube. Twenty seven for o-gel.

You avert your gaze without fact-checking him on the condoms, laughing awkwardly as your heart races. “Right.”

“I'm kidding. Just feeding Jack is a surprising expense.” He says surprising like it's delightful. “Good thing we have cushy jobs.”

Oh, he's feeling funny tonight. Your laugh is authentic as he takes your arm, the basket in his other clinking as he starts forward again. You finish your quick stock up and Hotch pays for your things despite your protests, packing you and the bags into his ‘cushy’ car.

You're a little embarrassed in the passenger seat. Your relationship with Hotch is complicated in that while you're in the official early days, you pined for a long time. You're undoubtedly in love with him, and though he's your boss and your senior, he seems to have taken a similar liking to you, hence another chilled out date night upon his invitation. And you've you've messed around like teenagers with kisses too hot and hands wandering, but you haven't fucked, and it's a problem, because your usual awkwardness around the subject grows bigger the longer you wait.

Hotch can wait forever if he wants, you're not trying to rush him. If he wanted to fuck you tonight you'd probably be too nervous anyhow.

You can't talk about condoms. How are you going to cope when you have to use one?

Your stomach churns the longer you think about it. Hotch doesn't react at first, but you know he's figured you out when he covers your hand atop your knee and gives it a squeeze. You okay?

“Can we turn on the radio?” you ask.

His hand lifts away slowly. He turns on the radio, and you think, oh, he's mad. No, not mad. Irritated, maybe, or confused. That's not fair to him. You think it anyway, sick to your stomach as he parks in the parking garage under his building and you make your way up.

He doesn't pull any punches —as soon as you're inside with your shoes off and the door locked, he puts the groceries on the counter and looks at you until you meet his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he says.

“What for?” you ask, startled.

“I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to imply anything before you're ready.” He's handsome like this, earnest, his eyebrows raised and an inviting palm held open on the counter beside him. “It was a poorly judged joke.”

“No, no, I,” —you bring a hand to your mouth, cover it, uncover it— “don't mind if you want to joke about it. It would be weird to care, right?”

He hears an insecurity in your tone you don't mean to reveal, and he pieces it together swiftly. Understanding lines his eyes. “I don't think so,” he murmurs.

You're embarrassed beyond words, but he is your boyfriend. He asked with a little expensive bracelet and your favourite baked treat from the bakery near work. You'd only ever mentioned it once, but he remembered. He knows you well, and he's never given you reason to be afraid of his reactions.

“It's just so embarrassing,” you mumble, staring down at your socks.

“What is?” he asks, crossing the kitchen to take your hands. “You don't have to be embarrassed about anything, you're perfect.”

Your breath catches, your neck cracking uncomfortably as you look up. “I– I don't know how to talk about it. I know it's childish.”

“No, it's not. It's a big thing, and it comes naturally to some people, but not everyone.” His brow furrows a little, the warm depth of his voice working to unspool the tight panic you'd been clinging to, “I'd never push you to do something you're not ready for.”

“I know that. It's not you. And I don't know if I'm ready or not, it's just–” Your face is hot enough to boil rain. You shake your head. It's too difficult to explain.

Hotch ushers you into his solid chest. “It's okay,” he says, patting your back gently. “Don't worry about it.”

“I want us to be like everyone else,” you confess.

“We are. You're not the first woman to get nervous about the idea of intimacy, sweetheart, I promise. And I'm not the first man to make a bad joke about contraceptives.” He laughs as you laugh, two huffing chuckles as he presses his lips to the top of your head. “You can take as much time as you need to get used to the idea, and if it's still weird when you're ready, does it matter? We'll be weird about it together. Or we won't be. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay… thank you, Aaron.”

“I waited a long, long time for this,” he says, giving your back a pointed little squeeze. “And it's more than I ever thought I'd get. I'm not worried about the rest. I'm in no rush, and you shouldn't be either.”

You hide your face in his chest for a while, somehow more embarrassed than when you'd started. He draws lines up and down your back with his palm patiently. “It's okay,” he says again, kissing the side of your face. After a moment, he encourages your head back with a hand on your cheek, checking your expression carefully before leaning in for a kiss. His hair tickles your forehead.

To your relief, it doesn't make you nervous. He probably never could, not when he's touching you so softly.

You're feeling a hundred times better when you pull away. A tad mortified still, but relieved to know your struggle with talking about it isn't a turn off. If he can stick with you through this bump in the road, you can try, at least, to overcome it.

“Is lube really thirty two dollars?” you ask in a whisper.

“I don't know. I've never needed it.”

He spends the next ten minutes laughing and apologising sincerely as steam pours out of your ears.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months

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Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {9}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: It’s the end of the season but there’s no such thing as winding down in F1. Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst, crash WC: 3.1k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One

Round Twenty One - Brazil 2022 “Aren’t you going to stop that?” George asked Charles with a nervous laugh as he pointed his glass of wine across the room.

Charles followed the direction and found the man of the hour celebrating his birthday at the Brazilian nightclub. Lando was well on his way to being drunk and since he was already an affectionate man the alcohol only increased the need for physical touch. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, especially not when the dancers had pulled you backstage and convinced you to change into an embellished golden samba costume.

“No, they look like they are having fun,” Charles chuckled as you hooked the matching feather boa over Lando’s head and pulled him closer as you danced along to the samba. “But I might just join them.”

Your arms draped over Lando’s shoulders as the crowd compacted even closer and your lips brushed his ear as his hands settled on your bare waist. “Happy birthday, baby. Did you make a wish?”

Another pair of hands settled on your hips and you felt the warmth of Charles at your back, his hips finding the same rhythm to the music as you swayed.

“It probably won’t come true,” Lando said with a sad smile. “But that’s okay, maybe next year.”

Charles quietly asked you what he meant and you told him, both of you feeling guilty again for the situation you had found yourself in. Though the number of people who knew about the three of you was growing, publicly you were only dating Charles. You were about to apologise again when another pair of arms wrapped around all of you as Pierre joined in with a hiccup.

“My favourite ménage à trois,” he greeted with a loud whisper. “Little bit of advice…you look like you are about to fuck.”

“Okay, but what’s the advice?” you asked as you continued to dance between your boyfriends.

“Uhhh, not here?” he suggested before laughing and waving to your brother. “If looks could kill…”

“Wanna take this party back to the hotel?” Charles asked as he rested his chin on your shoulder while his hands slipped up Lando’s top, but to anyone else it looked like his hands were on your skin.

You missed the heat of their bodies touching yours but the knowledge of something far better coming soon eased the ache.

“Don’t forget breakfast tomorrow,” Pierre reminded as he waved goodbye. “I expect details.”

Lando watched with longing as you climbed into a taxi with Charles and you watched his silhouette fade while he waited for the next one.

“I want to make his wish come true,” you whispered, laying your head on Charles’ shoulder. “I don’t care about the PR fall out, they’ll just have to get over it.”

“I have been thinking about it too, mi amor,” he admitted and you looked up to see the hard line of his jaw tick as resolution set in.

“Scared?” you asked as you caressed his face, drawing him closer to kiss the dimples that appeared.

“Not even a little bit.”

You were giddy with excitement when Lando arrived at your room a few minutes after you, and his clothes soon joined the rest on the floor. His kiss had scorched your skin and he nipped at your shoulder after climbing onto the bed where you waited for him.

His pupils ate away the colour of his eyes at the sight of you both laid out ready for him and he bit his bottom lip as he dragged a palm up your thighs. Your core throbbed as you watched his fist close around Charles’ cock and it was his fingers that gave you reprieve as they curled into your cunt.

“Is this my present?” he asked with a husky tone, referring to the text you sent him in the taxi.

“You can have us like this everyday,” you teased before he stole your breath when his palm pressed to your clit and he dipped his head to taste the bead of pre-cum on Charles. “You’re our boyfriend.”

“And we want everyone to know it,” Charles finished with a shaky breath at the pretty sight.

“What?” Sobriety flooded back in his eyes that widened and his head snapped back and forth between you and Charles as a smile of pure joy parted his lips. “Really?”

“Yes, you muppet. We love you,” you reached for him and tugged him closer, “now let us show you how much.”

You moaned as your bodies united and he stole the sound with his kiss until he gasped at Charles' touch. You had never seen anything hotter than Lando’s eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy, and you saw the frenzied hunger in Charles’ eyes as he gripped Lando’s hip and ease forward. He filled Lando with a guttural moan and the thrust pushed Lando deeper inside you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Charles praised as he kissed Lando’s shoulder before trailing his lips over his racing pulse and across his jaw. Your cunt clenched as Lando craned his neck to meet his lips and when their tongue fought for dominance you saw stars.

“No more hiding,” Charles promised. His hand slipped between your legs so he could press his thumb to your clit and your back arched, hips rolling to meet the rhythm he set. You felt Lando’s cock swell and your walls began to flutter as the pleasure mounted.

Lando collapsed on you with a heaving chest and a heady moan as his cock twitched with aftershocks from his release and you brushed his curls softly as you came down from your own high. “You’re ours.”

landonorris

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“No going back now,” you giggled as you set Do Not Disturb on until morning and joined Lando in using Charles’ chest as a pillow.

“I wouldn’t want to,” he said as he stroked Lando’s curls and kissed his forehead. “Happy birthday, mon cher.”

He rewarded you with a smile that lit up his face and pulled the blankets up as he snuggled in closer with a yawn. “Best one yet.”

You echoed his yawn and soon Charles’ followed too as the late night came to a close. It only felt like a few minutes had passed since you fell asleep but since there was a buzzing sound coming from the nightstand you knew it had to be after 8am.

“It’s yours,” Lando said with a yawn, passing the phone over before burying himself back under the blankets.

You stared at the message and reread it three times before you could process what it said, your stomach dropping as the world fell quiet except for the ringing in your ears. “My contract renewal has been cancelled.”

Round Twenty Two - Abu Dhabi 2022 It was the last race of the season, and possibly your last ever race in Formula One. You had laid low for the last week, letting your PR team work with Lando’s and Charles’ to handle the fallout while you tried to save your career. The only concilation was that they didn’t seem to have the same issue with their teams, rather they had become the poster children for inclusivity in F1.

“You’re leading the fucking Championship, they can’t just rip up your contract,” Max growled as he angrily paced your driver’s room.

“You’re only two points behind me, it's not like they are desperate for the points. Shit, you could still win the Constructor Championship with Latifi on your team,” you sighed as you pushed yourself out of the chair knowing you needed to get ready for the race.

“I’ll quit then.”

“I’m pretty sure Jos would have me offed if you did that. I’m already such a disappointment.” You rolled your eyes and swiped your helmet and balaclava off the table. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll find my way, I always do.”

The engineers were busy having a final strategic meeting when you entered the empty garage, or almost empty. “Give me a fucking break,” you muttered as you saw Jos admiring your car. “What are you doing here?”

“I have to hand it to you, you are a clever girl,” he chuckled. “You have single handedly gridlocked the front two rows. You already had Max wrapped around your little finger, then Charles and now Lando too.”

You scoffed and continued on your way to the fridge to grab your water. “I’m not some evil mastermind like you, using others to get what you want, abusing whoever when you don’t get your way. So, if that’s all you came to say you can fuck off now, this is still my garage for the next two hours.”

“Congratulations,” he said as he walked towards the pit exit. “You just ruined any chances of another female getting to the same level. I always said women are too messy for this sport, too emotional.”

A loud bang rattled him as a wrench slammed into the wall beside his head and he turned around with a nasty grin. “That’s it, prove me right, daughter.”

“Don’t call me that,” you growled.

“I’m your father, what am I meant to call you?” he taunted, knowing he was waving a red flag at a raging bull.

“You are not my father, you’re just a mistake my mother made.”

He chuckled as he picked up the wrench and placed it on the table before walking out. “You were the mistake, daughter.”

“Where’s my water?” you asked as you hit the button but nothing came through the straw in your helmet.

“The pump doesn’t appear to be working,” Nicholas replied. “Negative on the water, Spitfire.”

“What the fuck? It’s like 45 fucking degrees in here! Did no one check if my water was working?” It was so hot your sweat was beginning to steam the inside of your visor and you shook your head so it ran down in streaks like you were driving in the rain.

There was no way you could pit for the water to be fixed and still keep the lead, the best you could hope for was a red flag. Unfortunately that flag didn’t come, but on the flip side it was fortunate no one crashed. You managed the best you could, dropping your pace a little so that you weren’t pushing your body so hard, but your mouth was drier than the desert.

“How are the brakes? They feel sticky.”

The headset was quiet for a minute before Nicholas replied, “Data looks fine, they aren’t overheating. Tire degradation is not excessive either.”

You were approaching the penultimate lap but at turn one you nearly lost the rear as you pushed the brake pedal down but it took an extra 2/10th of a second to slow down.

“Check the data again, they’re not fucking working,” you growled as you slowed your pace even more so you weren’t too reliant on the brakes. You couldn’t slow any further as you saw Max in your rearview and Charles right behind him. If Max passed you then it was over, he would be world champion for a second time and your bargaining chip would be lost. Like Jos said, second place was just first loser.

Your wrists ached from fighting the steering wheel and there was a cramp starting in your calf as dehydration set it but you were on the final turn. Max’s rear wing opened and he was closing in quick but you had burned your fuel so you were at the lightest possible weight and managed to keep a tire length ahead as you passed the chequered flag.

“Well done, World Champ,” Nicholas congratulated, sounding like he was on the verge of crying. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Yeah, you too, Nick,” you said as you swallowed the lump in your throat and pushed the brake to slow down. “Oh shit. No brakes, no brakes.”

You had pushed too fast down the home straight to win and as you slammed your foot down over and over but there was no response in the brakes. You were barrelling straight towards turn one while Max fell back as he slowed for the warm down lap. You tried to take the corner but with worn tires and exhausted muscles there was no hope to maintain control.

You felt the rear wheels slide out but there was no correcting the oversteer when they hit the gravel and you relinquished control, letting go of the wheel as you grasped your harness and braced for impact.

Your ears were ringing as you slammed into the barriers and if you weren’t so dehydrated you probably could have climbed out yourself instead of sitting there dazed in the dust. It was Max’s helmet that popped up first over the halo, quickly followed by Charles and then Lando - all reaching you before the marshals.

“Are you hurt, mi amor?” “Baby, you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you said tiredly as they unbuckled you. You pointed up to Max and tapped your helmet. “We need to swap, you’ve got my number, Verstappen.”

He laughed and pulled it from his head, resting it on the broken tire beside him. “You know, little girl, you could’ve said ‘fuck you’ to Christian, you didn’t have to total his car.”

“Trust me,” you groaned as you took Charles and Lando’s hands so they could help pull you out of the car, “I didn’t do this on purpose, the whole thing was malfunctioning. No water, no brakes, someone must have made a mistake…”

“What?” Lando asked as you trailed off but you shook your head at the thought that had filtered in.

“Nothing,” you lied. “I just must have hit my head harder than I thought. Think one of you can give me a lift to the podium?”

“You started the race in a Red Bull, might as well finish in one,” Max said as he draped an arm over your shoulder.

“Go on, love,” Lando said with a smile as you looked back at them. “We’ll be right behind you.”

All the other teams had reached the pits by the time Max rolled in with you sitting side-saddle on his halo, waving to the cheering crowds. It was strange to see the centre space empty when Max parked in front of the number two and Charles pulled into the third place, securing his spot as third in the drivers championship with it.

You only just managed to find the energy to climb down from the halo and you ignored the Red Bull team going crazy along the edge of the barriers. You were focused on the space in front of the number one marker, the space where your car should have been. You could hardly believe the season was over, how this moment was going to be your legacy when you were gone. Laying down on the parc ferme, you let the heat of the tarmac penetrate your race suit and stared up at the cloudless sky while you absorbed the moment.

“They want to interview you, mi amor,” Charles said as he knelt beside you, having brought your water bottle and towel over with him.

“I’m not moving.”

“How are you planning on getting your trophy then?” he teased.

You poured the bottle of water over your face to wash away the sweat before wiping it dry and grinning. “I’m world champion, they can come to me.”

You did eventually accept Charles’ hand to pull you to your feet and leaned into his side for support as you headed to the red carpet where Max was finishing his interview.

“So, World Champion, a massive congratulations,” Naomi greeted you with a grin. “I’m glad you’re okay after that incident at the end.”

“Me too, those last few laps were all a bit precarious.”

“Yes, we heard on the team radio you were having difficulties with the brakes. Any idea what caused it?”

“I have a theory, but I’m sure it will be looked into by the team when they retrieve the car from the gravel.” You shrugged. “Or maybe not, it’s not like it needs to be saved. 2023 will bring a new season, new car, new driver.”

“New driver?” she asked, glancing at the camera and the Red Bull team beyond. “You and Max have multi-year contracts.”

“He does, I, apparently, do not. Not after my relationship status changed anyway.” The crowd fell silent as the news echoed over the speakers. “But what a way to go out, as world champion,” you said with a laugh.

“I’m sure there will be teams tripping over themselves to have a driver with your capabilities in their car.”

“Well, my calendar is free and they have my number.” You saw Jos in the corner by the barrier, his face red and his fists closed, and you smirked his way. “Maybe I’ll come back and win in a Williams.”

You were swiftly moved on to the driver room before you could taunt anyone else and Max chuckled to himself as he watched the reply of the interview. “You have balls.”

“I can probably blame a concussion.”

“You really should see the medics,” Charles said as he entered the room after finishing his interview and grabbed his Ferrari cap from the table before taking the seat next to you, lacing your hands together.

“After,” you promised. “I am not missing what is potentially my last time on a podium.”

Tears started to burn your eyes as your anthem played and you swallowed the lump in your throat as it ended and you grabbed the bottle of champagne. Leaping off the podium, you smashed the butt of the bottle on the ground and the crowd screamed at the fountain of wine that sprayed high in the air, cascading over you as you threw your hands up.

Confetti stuck to you and the sweet scent of champagne filled your senses as you took a seat at the edge of the podium. Below the crowd was still going wild but their noise was muted as your brother took a seat beside you.

“I knew you would cry,” you choked as you stared at your reflection in the trophy before looking at your brother beside you. “Beaten by a girl, huh. Just like old times.”

“I’m not crying because you beat me,” Max sniffled and pulled you into his arms. “I’m crying because I’m proud of you, zusje.”

Click here for chapter one of Part Three: A New World

#Charles Leclerc x reader x lando norris #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x you #lando norris x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #f1 rpf #formula one fanfiction

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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

Text

A click. The closing and opening of a camera shutter. The whirr of film as it slides across the inner workings of his camera.

Timothy Drake heaved himself off of the concrete roof as soon as the vigilantes left his eyesight. He swaps the film roll, placing the used one inside of the tin with a barely restrained grin. He’d gotten good shots tonight- a confrontation with Harvey Dent, batarangs swooping to cut the new Robin free- and Tim was excited to race back to his dark room in order to develop those candids.

He climbs down the side of the building, the spelunking gear he’d splurged his parents’ money on working wonderfully on Gotham’s stone and concrete buildings.

“Mom, I want to be just like you guys!” He’d said, and his mom agreed to spare no expense for his new hobby. Well, their secretary did, with his parent’s disinterested permission. After all, spelunking is sometimes needed for artifact digs… probably.

Besides, the moment he had brought up Bruce Wayne’s propensity for “spelunking,” his father had immediately sent him more cave scaling stuff in order to “network with the other successful businessmen, Timmy!”

Tim slides away from the alley with full awareness. Even in Bristol, one had to be careful to avoid the multitudes of goons out and about. The Narrows are definitely worse than Bristol and Tim wasn’t about to let his hard work be taken away just like that. As he trudged home- taking a taxi once he was in a slightly more “trustworthy area”- Tim became slightly lost in his thoughts about the identities of Gotham’s vigilantes. Technically there’s only two.

Tim knows there’s three.

Batman.

Robin.

Nightwing.

Bruce Wayne.

Jason Todd.

Dick Grayson.

His sharp mind, now assuaged from the mystery of their identities, worked hard to match the fights he witnessed to the injuries the prolific Wayne family hid the next day.

Timothy Drake thinks he’ll never get bored following his vigilantes.

——

He’s bored. He’s so irrevocably, irredeemably bored.

Tim had been so excited to go, too! Perhaps for different reasons than everyone else because he was here to observe his heroes out of their masks, not for the Annual Wayne Gala that’s the end-all of high society life. As in, if you weren’t invited, that’s the end of your social life. Bruce Wayne held high society in his palms and Tim is only fifty percent sure he knew and/or cared. Regardless, he was prepared to be a pod-son to his parents’ fake good-parents act, and accordingly suffered thirty minutes of cheek-pinching and fake laughs just for the opportunity to see the three Bats in one place.

They’re not here. They won’t be here for another twenty minutes.

Anyways, he’s bored and irritated. Definitely annoyed enough for some bad ideas.

And Tim might not be aware of this fact about himself until much later when he’s more self-aware, but a bored and irritated Tim Drake is bad news for everyone.

He takes after Janet Drake, after all, and Janet Drake is only after Bruce Wayne in influence and cunning.

And his heroes, his beloved heroes, are the targets of his ire tonight. Tim smiles wider, pod-person smile widening to a baring of ravenous teeth incredibly off putting on a nine year old, and immediately changes course towards the delicate jello squares sitting at the buffet table.

The Waynes will be learning the importance of punctuality at their own galas by the time Tim’s done. He swears it. He even has a get out of jail free card!

Just. A small bit of petty revenge.

Tim nabs a bowl full of the jellos, snacking on one as he makes his way to the Wayne family’s most favorite balcony. Everyone knows it’s the one the family members go to when the Gala gets overwhelming. It’s an unspoken rule that no one else may enter it. Tim slips around the blind spots in the cameras.

High society might call someone a bitch in forty different ways, all hidden behind silk smiles and false eyes, but they’d respect the oddest things.

Tim… doesn’t care. He’s been breaking rules since he was seven.

He sets to his task, setting the jello cubes in the places he’d calculated that Jason or Bruce or Dick might step on. Mild revenge, yes, but Tim doesn’t want to bother Alfred too much. The butler had looked a bit tired earlier. Task done, Tim squeezes back into the party and smiles like his life depended on it.

“Brucie!” His dad boomed, and Tim felt his smile widen once more.

“Jack!” Batman’s Brucie personality bounced into the ballroom as the party kicked back up with the host’s presence. “How’ve you been, old chap?”

“The digs have been very fruitful!”

“I see you’ve brought someone with you today! Well, other than your strikingly beautiful wife, of course!”

“This is my son, Timothy!”

“Hello, Timothy. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Oh. My. God. He’s shaking hands with Batman!

“Hi. I’m Timothy Drake.”

“Oh my gosh, Tim!” His mom laughs, fake nails and laugh digging into his shoulders. Oops. Too informal.

“It’s alright.”

“BRUCE!”

Oh my god, it’s ROBIN. Tim’s smile twitches, barely containing his squeals.

“Jaylad? What’s wrong?”

“Someone left jello cubes all over the balcony!”

“What?” Bruce (Brucie, Tim decides is the name of the mask) turns to his parents and excuses himself.

“Mom? I’m going to go network with Bruce Wayne’s son.”

No, he’s not. He’s gonna go watch them lose their minds.

“That’s my boy!” His dad claps him on the shoulder and shoos him off. His mom narrowing her eyes at him but ultimately dismissing him.

Perfect. By the time he gets there, he hears Nightwing- Dick Grayson, oh my god!- asking “O” to figure out who left all those cubes on the floor.

“Drake?” Ah, shit.

“Weren’t we just talking to him earlier, B?”

“Yes, but I haven’t got the slightest idea why he’d leave jello cubes all over the place.”

“Assassination attempt?” Jason asks.

“Whatever it is, it ruined my running shoes!”

“Dick, please, just wash it off or give it to Alfred.”

“Ugh, we can just go ask him.”

“And make a scene?” Jason sounds eager.

“No. Alfred ordered us specifically not to.”

Silence. Tim grins and slips away, making his way through and voiding the cameras as usual.

—-

“Timmy!”

Tim smiles politely at Brucie Wayne while inwardly cheering. His dad looks at him with stars in his eyes and leaves him to work his magic.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” Pod-person smile!

“This is my son, Jason. And this is Dick.”

“Hi. I’m Jason!” He holds out a hand for Tim to shake. Dick smiles at him and Tim thinks he might expire on the Wayne’s ballroom floor.

“Hello,” Tim suppresses his urge to scream excitedly. “I’m Timothy Drake. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Woah, you sound so stiff.”

“Jason!” Brucie Wayne chides. “Anyways, Timmy, you looked like you had something to tell me earlier. Something wrong, kiddo?”

No, no he didn’t. But… they don’t know that he knows their secret. And they don’t know he knows that they don’t know.

Tim acts confused, but then clears up with his expression like he just thought of something.

“Oh! I was wondering why you were late, Mr. Wayne. Did Batman stop you on the way back?”

“Huh?”

“Oh, I know you don’t really like Batman, Mr. Wayne,” Tim cackles inwardly. “But he saves you a lot. Were you stopping crime?”

“I… I’m not Batman.”

“Well, I know that,” Tim huffs. “It’s just weird no one’s seen you and Batman in the same room.” Tim cheerfully ignores the alarm making its way onto the trio’s faces and his dad’s frantic, further away, cut it out motion. “But obviously that’s because Batman’s busy putting on his gear, right?”

“And how do you figure that…?” Dick asks, tense.

“Uh, he always knows when you’re in trouble? He always comes in minutes of you guys getting held hostage. Is his base on the manor grounds? Oh, is it a secret that you’re funding him? Don’t worry! I know how to keep a secret! Can you tell the new Robin that I think he’s the best?” Tim grins cutely up at Batman. Ah, he means Brucie Wayne.

“Sure can, kiddo! Don’t tell anyone else, okay?” Jason swoops in, grinning back Tim.

Eeee!

As he nods, Tim can’t help mentioning the cubes. “Oh, sorry about the cubes! I thought I’d be able to track them with their shoe print if Batman and Robin came to save you guys but I guess that wasn’t going to happen. I’m really sorry!” He uses the “cute duckling” face and Dick visibly melts.

“No problem, Timmy! You should come over to play Clue with us sometime! I think you’d be good at it.”

“Oh! Really?” His words becomes a bit more genuine. “I’ve never played it. My mom and dad aren’t around much so. Um. Would it be okay if we do?”

“This weekend.” Brucie Wayne’s voice suddenly became more firm. “I’ll talk to your parents about it.

—-

As Tim waves the Wayne’s goodbye, he hears from Dick, “You only like him because he said you’re the best.”

And Jason’s reply, “Because he’s got good taste,” made the rest of his night. Not week, because tomorrow, he gets to poke around Wayne manor again!

#tim drake is a menace #tim drake #bruce wayne is tired dad with unhinged kids #bruce Wayne’s adoption senses are tingling #bruce wayne #batman #nightwing #Tim literally dngaf and is waiting for the bats to play catch up #dick grayson #jason todd #robin #jello cubes as a weird shoe print identifier #technically he did catch Batman and robin

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months

Text

can't fight the moonlight

kinktober, day twenty-nine

a/n: this one was a fantasy that was so fuzzy and took a surprisingly long time to figure out, but the hazy dream of it kept me going till i solved the puzzle

summary: it didn’t matter what you did or how hard you tried, you had no way of overpowering the beast the moonlight turned him into.

warnings: werewolf!bucky barnes x reader, smut, bucky's wolf form is very humanoid looking (think more teen wolf, less twilight), dubcon/noncon, predator/prey, established relationship, monsterfucking, little to no foreplay, dirty talk, squirting, overstimulation, cock drunk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, forced breeding, belly bulge, size kink, size difference

word count: 2345

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“…and you’ve got some water in case you get thirsty and-, oh! Do you have something to eat? A snack or something?” you blabbered tensely as you helped lock the heavy chains that your partner snaked securely around his own limbs, bolting him to the cold basement for the night, “because I could go make you-”

Letting the iron in his grasp suddenly fall to the floor in a loud clang, like a volcano he exploded, “no!” heatedly throwing his hands up as he fumed, “I don’t need a fucking snack, would you just-…” catching your wide eyes, his sudden anger thawed a bit as he finally heard his own words, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you clutched your hands close to your chest, the keys tight in them dug into your palms.

Head lightly tilting to the side, Bucky let out a sigh, “you’re just trying to help and I’m-”

“It’s okay, I know,” you reassured him, “it’s the moon, I get it, don’t worry, darling,” you averted your gaze, staring down at the cold concrete floor, “I’m sorry about freaking out, like I do every month, but I just wanna do something that can make this better for you, even a little bit, anything, even though I know that there isn’t anything that can, I still can’t stop trying because I hate this,” you heard your voice grow thick and tears begin to blur up your vision, “I really really hate this.”

“Y/n…” you felt his fingers gently graze your cheek, bringing your glossy gaze back up to his, “you are helping, more than you even know. Before I met you, before you moved in and started being here every full moon, I was always terrified of getting out, terrified that I couldn’t detain myself enough and someone would end up getting hurt or worse… but I’m not scared of that anymore. It hasn’t happened once since you’ve been here to bolt the chains I can’t get to on my own and lock the doors from the other side. Plus knowing that you’ll be here when the sun eventually comes up, I hold onto that, no matter how painful it gets or how much I disappear, that fact doesn’t, it stays with me, keeps me somewhat sane throughout the night.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you blinked away the mist in your eyes, trying to be brave as you uttered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he exhaled, gazing at you as you leaned in to seal the final padlock with a click. Getting up to your feet, you stepped towards the door, but your fingers froze on the knob as Bucky’s voice filled the cellar once more, “try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”

Glancing over your shoulder at his shackled frame, sitting against the wall, skin already glistening from the pending trauma, you promised, “okay,” even though you knew this night wouldn’t be any different from the rest.

You could never sleep when the moon was full, never even relax enough to rest for a bit. Even though the layers of resources that encased the basement silenced Bucky’s screams of agony from the rest of the neighbourhood as well as your own ears, just the knowledge that only one floor below where you were trying to slumber, there your beloved laid in pain as every single bone in his body had to break before he could turn into a monster of the moon, that awareness kept you up better than any caffeine could.

Locking the solid steel door behind you, so you repeated with the one atop the wonky staircase, the rest of the house suddenly feeling so cold without his presence.

Still clad in garb you’d worn to work, you couldn’t bother to change out of it even if the dress and stockings weren’t the most comfortable clothing to do an all-nighter in, you just seized the grey cabled cardigan draped over the armchair by the fireplace and shrugged it over top.

Holding the kettle under the tap to fill it up, your weary vision locked on the ominous sphere looming in the night sky clearly visible from the kitchen window. Losing yourself to the sight, too absorbed by the troubling thoughts it brought on, you only snapped out of the trance when cold water began to flow over the side of the pot and soak your hand that clutched it.

“Oh, shit…” you mumbled as you hurried to turn off the water and pour some of the abundances back out into the sink.

Placing it down on the stovetop, you listened to the gentle clicking that emanated before the eventual flame as you turned the knob. The slight heat radiating beneath the kettle persuaded you to shift into the living room and with the flick of a match, light the fireplace, granting yourself more of that soothing heat to help battle the night.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when the water came to a boil, kettle whistling like a demon to relay the message.

With a mug of tea in your hand, you curled up in the chair by the fire and picked up the half-read book discarded on the small side table.

This was the routine, even though you never could concentrate, you still at least tried to distract yourself.

A sudden bang ripped your eyes away from the page they had glazed over four times by now. Your vision instantly trained on the door to the cellar, clearly visible from where you were sitting.

As the door then began to rattle rhythmically from an unyielding force, your body jumped at every thud, the novel in your grasp tumbling to the floor.

Frozen in your seat, you watched as the door splintered, swiftly losing the short-lived battle and flying off its hinges.

With heavy footsteps, Bucky’s visage stepped into the light, except it wasn’t the Bucky you knew, not one you’d seen with your own eyes, but only ever heard tales about.

At first, you thought he still looked like himself, but as the firelight flickered across his form, you finally noticed just how altered he was. His natural body hair had quadrupled, fuzzing up his visage and the rippling muscles that hid beneath it, those as well seeming to have swelled up making his frame nearly unrecognisable. Though he always towered above your comparative stature, his height now was something else entirely. The sight of his eyes chilled you to the very bone, the calming blue was completely drowned out by a sea of black, with only a tiny golden flicker in the middle differentiating the obsidian. Nails long and tough like claws, broken chains still clung to his form as you watched his lip curl, a low growl rumbling throughout the room and letting you catch sight of his sharp teeth.

Scarcely breathing at all, your hopes of him not noticing your presence began to fade as he predatorily sniffed the air.

Your eyes suddenly grew wide as you spotted a part of him begin to swell up and come into the light. Throbbing, his unusually grand length intimidatingly curved upwards, it too haven grown just as the rest of his body had.

Finally breaking through your terror, you sprung up and tried your best to run, though you didn’t get far as, within mere seconds, the natural hunter caught up to you and tackled you down to the ground, shredding the cosy knit you wore in the process.

Cheek smooshed against the floorboards, you trembled beneath his beefy form as his flaming chest pressed against your back, knowing full well that if you made one wrong move, aggravated him in any sort of way, he could snap you like a twig. It didn’t matter what you did or how hard you tried, you had no way of overpowering the beast the moonlight turned him into.

As your eyes flickered to the front door, it dawned on you that if he could break not only the chain that bound him, but also the strong basement doors, then the last barrier that kept him from the outside world wouldn’t even make him break a sweat.

Growling directly in your ear, you felt his agitated breath fan across your face as his nose buried itself in your hair. Starved sniffs slowly travelling south, your heart nearly burst out of your chest as you felt him rip your clothes to shreds. Dress tattered and hanging off of you, your underwear swiftly disintegrated completely as only your stocking truly survived the attack, still clinging around your quivering thighs with only the smallest of tears to tell the tale.

Grinding desperately against the curve of your form, his monstrous girth nudged against you, catching you off guard as even in this petrifying form, you still felt your body respond to him.

“Bucky, Buck!” your voice squeaked in an attempt at breaking through to him, “it’s me! It’s me! It’s Y/n!” wildly flipping you over and roughly aligning himself with your core, you desperately tried to catch his dark eyes and try again, “Bucky, please!”

Joints locking up at the sound of your shrill cry, a flicker of reignition washed over his haunting glare, softening it slightly as you finally heard him speak, “…Y/n?” his voice was much lower than you’d ever heard it, though very much still his, “oh, fuck… I-…” a shaky breath escaped his lungs as he hovered above you, the tip of his cock nuzzled between your folds, “…I don’t think I can stop…” he grunted, his hand right beside your head digging into the floorboards and leaving splintery scratches in its wake, “I can’t fight it, I’m trying, but-”

“It's okay,” you carefully reached up and touched his cheek. You couldn’t let him run out that door and take some innocent lives. At this moment, all of his focus was aimed at you, so if it could just stay there and not stray till the sun came up, if you could distract him for only a little while longer, then the night might end without any unnecessary bloodshed. So, therefore, you gave in, “I love you, I love you so much,” your glistening eyes blinked up at him as you tried to speak with confidence, “you’re not gonna hurt me, I know you’re not. It’s okay, it’s-”

Plunging into you, an almost animalistic noise accompanied his harsh action as the beast he’d become seized exactly what it desired. All of the air got pushed out of your lungs as he buried himself in you, stretching you out beyond belief and forcing a shuttering cry to tumble from your lips.

Never mind the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom, a thing the two of you had always been careful about, that detail fought to penetrate through the fog he sent you into. Stunned that you could even take it all, the sensation of him made your mind melt. You felt all of it. Every vein and every ridge, every jaw-dropping detail that decorated his monstrous cock drove you to madness.

“Fuck!” he snarled, bucking his hips so hard against yours that your whole body shook, the sloppy clapping of skin against skin filled the home as he greedily rammed against the deepest spot inside of you, “do you have any idea how long I’ve tried to break out of those chains?” leaning down closer, he inhaled deeply, “I can fucking smell you…” you shivered as his nose ghosted against yours, “all the way down in the basement, no matter where you are, I can always smell you… calling for me, begging me to come and rip you apart…”

Leaning back again, his bruising grip found your hips and plucked them up, holding them tight as the rest of you still laid melted against the floor like a puddle before him. Like a ragdoll in his grasp, he moved your body, fucking your drooling pussy like the ravenous beast he was.

As your eyes fluttered down to where he virtually split you in two, the dull bulge that rhythmically appeared in your lower stomach at each and every one of his ruthless thrusts caught your attention, the vision making you dizzy.

You had never felt like this, never felt anything so intense in your whole life. He was just so menacing, so magnetic, so massive. Your own enthusiasm caught you by surprise, especially as your cunt soon began to cry out around him, showing your living room floor in your want as you squirted all over his rock-hard girth.

Usually, Bucky would slow down and give you a moment whenever you had an orgasm, but in this moment, tonight, it wasn’t your Bucky that was pounding the living hell out of you, it was someone else, something else, and that creature only seemed to get even more riled up by your lewd display as he picked up his speed till his gravelly groans grew louder and his efforts began to go sloppy.

“Please, Buck,” you mumbly pleaded, picking up on his telltale signs through your cock drunk haze, “not inside.”

But he didn’t listen to you as he just kept on fucking you till he pumped your pussy full of his cum.

Panting and puffing above you, he still kept up shallow thrusts, rocking you against him and pushing his load out of your overly sensitive cunt with every piercing plunge.

“Buck?” you heard yourself uttered as you found his dark gaze, though what stared back at you was not your love anymore as there was no recognition to be found in his eyes at all.

Slamming you back against him hard enough for it to sting, you shuttered at the possibility that he was nowhere near done satisfying his carnal desire.

But just before he could ruin you completely, a sliver of light began to dawn on the far side wall. Glancing out the window, you barely managed to spot the morning crest over the treetops in the distance.

#lea’s writing #kinktober 2023 #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #werewolf!bucky barnes #dark!bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #werewolf!bucky #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #winter soldier smut #bucky barnes au #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x you

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seresinhangmanjake · 5 months

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The One I Want: Part 5

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: Bradley Bradshaw x OC!reader, cursing, maybe. Self-doubt and insecurities.

Words: 3165

The One I Want Masterlist

---

You are stirred by a knock at your door and you flip over in bed, eyes widening when you find the sun too high in the sky for the hour you were expected to wake.

“Shit! I’m gonna be late.”

Throwing back the covers you hop out of the warmth of your mattress into the chill of the room, and rush toward the bathroom. But there’s another knock. Glancing between the door and the bathroom, you debate which is more important, but you know Jake is on the other side. And you know he won’t stop. So, quickly as you can, you make your way to the opposite side of the room and yank the door open.

“Hey,” Jake says with a smile. “I was, uh…I–”

Your brow raises in question, but then you realize where the two-second glance of his eyes landed before they returned to your face. The speedy transition from comfy bed to cold air caused your nipples to bud and press through the thin fabric of your tight tank top.

Crossing your arms over your chest, and ignoring the blush you can’t will away, you say, “What’s up?”

“You weren’t up for work, so I thought you might be sick or something.”

“Nope, not sick,” you reply, stepping back to ease the door closed. You really need to get ready. You’re already calculating how long each of your morning routine tasks will take if you operate at max speed.

“Wait,” Jake says, his palm flattening against the door. It’s not forceful, you could slam it closed if you really wanted to, but the look on Jake’s face makes you pause for him. “When I pick you up, any chance you want to go to a bonfire? Just friends from work and a couple of locals. It’s not going to be anything crazy.”

“Yea, sure,” you rush out, not soaking in his words. You’re going to be late, he’s going to be late, and you need to get rid of him.

Jake smiles again as he says, “Really?” and you nod, not entirely sure what you’ve agreed to. But it works to move him along.

He wishes you a good day and begins to head for the front door when, suddenly, he pauses halfway on his path. You think he’s about to ask you something else that you won’t comprehend with the anxiety of being late to work consuming your thoughts, but he simply stands there with his back to you, blows out a breath, and rests one hand on his hip while the other runs through his hair.

“Calm the fuck down,” you hear him mutter before he collects himself and resumes his move toward the door and out of the apartment.

Thankful that he’s finally gone, you shower as fast as humanly possible, dress, and run into the kitchen to grab a water bottle to shove into your bag and the first piece of food you can find, a banana, to devour before you leave. At this rate, you’ll only be fifteen minutes late, but considering you’ve not once been tardy in the week and a half you’ve worked at the shop, you hope the owner will go easy on you. No one buys souvenirs at nine a.m. on a Friday, anyway. Hopefully.

But fifteen minutes late turns into twenty.

With the last bite of banana chewed, you toss the peel into the garbage can, but before the automatic lid fully closes, you catch a glimpse of an all too familiar item with all too familiar writing. Your foot presses on the pedal to shoot the lid back open. Reaching inside, you smack the banana peel out of the way and wrap your hand around the mug.

My Girlfriend F*cks a Naval Aviator. You know those words. You know this mug. You sold this mug, to a busty blonde with an attitude problem.

Though Jake’s been gone for more than ten minutes, your line of vision meets the front door to the apartment as if he had shut it behind him only moments ago.

—

Jake’s hand casually rests on top of the steering wheel, guiding his truck steadily with the heel of his palm, and you wonder if he’s handled everything in his life with such ease; if he’s faced a single hardship or if a beautiful fate shined down upon him from the very beginning.

From the moment you met Jake, you could tell he’d grown up well. He walks with the confidence of a man who has years of praise straightening his spine and holding his shoulders back. He speaks without the fear of being scolded, though being in the military, you’re positive he’s been barked at enough for a lifetime. He’s smart and clean and put together as if there was never the possibility for him to be anything else. And here you are, not remembering the last time you weren’t tense walking out your front door.

“I’m really glad you’re coming with me,” Jake says.

It jolts you out of your thoughts.

Jake hadn’t given you much of an explanation for how the night would unfold, and you were too embarrassed to ask, having not really listened to him that morning when he was asking you to join him. In fact, you’d forgotten your commitment to any activity after your shift until he showed up at the gift shop to pick you up with your sweater draped over the passenger seat claiming it gets a little chilly at night.

“It’s no problem,” you say in response, knowing that this event could absolutely be a problem.

You don’t know these people well. You don’t know this location. You don’t know how to handle being around Jake for an entire night after finding that mug in the trash and feeling the tiniest of pangs in your chest. You don’t want to think about the woman who bought it, what she meant, or possibly still means, to him.

Jake puts the truck in park and turns to you with a grin that brightens his eyes even in the dim light of the nearby street lamp. “Ready?”

“Sure,” you answer, a wobble in your voice.

He hops out of the car and hurries to your side, opening the door and reaching out to you. You stare at his hand for a beat before you decide to slip yours into his grasp so he can help you make the short leap from your seat to the sand.

“Thanks.”

He gives you a nod, but he doesn’t release your hand as he guides you to the glowing light in the distance and the many silhouettes surrounding it.

It feels odd when the small group smiles at you as you close the distance to the bonfire—an immediate acceptance from Jake’s friends and team. A few from the team you’d only met once, briefly, but you wouldn’t have assumed you made enough of an impression for them to be so welcoming now.

Javy rises from one of the unfoldable chairs and rushes to you with his arms spread wide. He greets you with a “Hello Sweetness” and what you’re sure would’ve been a lung-crushing squeeze if Jake hadn’t put his free hand against his friend's chest to stop him before he could get to you.

“Hands to yourself,” Jake warns.

Javy’s arms slap down to his sides with the same dramaticism of his lips falling into a pout. He glances down. “You don’t keep your hands to yourself,” he whines, but there’s a subtle tease to it, a little quirk of his mouth that has your eyes going wide and your hand jerking free from Jake’s.

His eyes dart to the loss of weight between his fingers, then over to you, and you can detect the disappointment on his face despite not looking his way to confirm it. He turns back to Javy, who becomes the line leader toward the rest of the group.

“She’s here!” Javy announces to your embarrassment, then in a dull tone says, “Jake’s here, too, but that’s less important.”

One by one, each of Jake’s friends greet you with nods and more smiles and questions of “How are you?” and “How was your day?” and you do your best to answer. You meet four others. The Bob you’ve heard plenty about who instantly gives up his seat for you; Rooster’s girlfriend, Millie—a petite red-head with a southern twang to her voice and a laugh that echoes across the waves of the ocean; and Mav and Penny, a couple that seems to operate as the parental figures of their younger friends.

For the most part, you keep quiet as the night goes on, and from that decision, learn plenty. After two hours of experiencing them all in one place, your previous belief that these people solely operate as friends and teammates is quickly tossed away. They are family, held together by far more powerful sources than blood. Their lives are interwoven. They’re protectors of one another on land as much as they are at sea and in the sky. But it’s the teasing and story-telling, genuine pride, and support of each other that stings your nose and blurs the edges of your vision from springing tears.

You’ve never seen people exist like this. People damage, people rip apart, and then people leave. No one sticks around to aid in healing others’ wounds—you thought. But you could pick any one of those in front of you now—electively sitting around a pit of fire with bottles of beer in their hands as they enjoy one another's company—and know that they have healed someone to their left or right. In their living, breathing unit, each person is vital for continuing on, and for whatever reason, for the time being, you’ve been invited into them.

Jake, in the midst of retelling a crowd-pleasing story, doesn’t sense you slip away to nestle in the sand. His voice fades to the waves that slide over the damp and heavy grains to touch your toes, retreat, and reliably reach for you again. One of few things that comes back, you think. The waves, and Jake you suppose. Both of which you’re finding are masters of the rebound. There is no pushing away either without preparing yourself for their return. The waves aren’t going anywhere, and with how your fingertips still tingle from Jake’s hand in yours, you’re starting to believe neither is he.

You can’t say how much time has passed when you’re joined by another.

“He noticed, ya know,” you hear just as the little redhead plops down beside you. “That you’re not next to him.”

With knees bent, you wrap your arms around your thighs and hum, daring yourself not to glance over your shoulder. You can’t figure out what you want. For his eyes to search in the hope of meeting yours, or not. Instead, you focus on the newcomer.

Millie is tiny, that’s for sure. She makes you feel like a city-destroying giant in this proximity, but unlike with most other women, your insecurity from being around her stops at the height difference. While there are probably a hundred differences between you, many of which can be spotted with a single look, you find comfort in one confirmed similarity: her shape.

Her chest is heavy. She’s full in the hips and thick in the thighs, and when she’s perched on Rooster’s lap, a couple of rolls form where her tummy is. Rolls that she doesn’t care are obvious through her snug shirt. Rolls that don’t stop Rooster from running his hands over her body, fingers occasionally drifting to dangerous areas when he thinks no one else is watching. Most people aren’t watching. You are.

Whenever a couple like them is shoved in your face, you picture loads of things that you probably shouldn’t be picturing considering this couple in particular could be in your life for a while. But you can’t help it. You picture them together, wrapped around one another, Rooster holding Millie close, sucking on her full breasts, kissing her stretch-marked skin, burying his head between thighs he would gladly permit to suffocate him. There are smiles and giggles and genuine moans of pleasure. You picture love meeting sex.

To your defense, it isn’t about Rooster or Millie. When you picture these scenarios, the people themselves lose their meaning to you, if they ever had meaning at all. They become Perfect Man and Imperfect Woman. Perfect Man who falls on his knees for Imperfect Woman. Perfect Man who worships Imperfect Woman despite her imperfections. Every duo like Rooster and Millie you’ve come across in your stopping points around the country worms their way into your daydreams. You’ve never quite had the Perfect/Imperfect couple so close, though, and as much as you try to ignore it, it plants a seed of hope.

“He didn’t want to bother you if you wanted a second to be alone,” Millie says to your shock, because since when doesn’t Jake Seresin squeeze himself into your space uninvited? That’s shown to be one of his top ten skills.

“Were you sent over?”

“Nope,” she replies, popping the ‘P’. “I just happen to enjoy your company. You, me, and Penny gotta stick together. We’re the only gals in this crew who don’t get to fly without a chaperone.” Her head quirks to the side. “Well, there’s Payback’s girl as well. They’re overseas for a few more months—Fanboy, too.”

Jake mentioned them. Another set of best friends whose seats at this family table could not be occupied by outsiders.

Millie leans back on her palms, tucking her toes into the sand. “I know they can be overwhelmin’,” she says. “They’re loud—well, with the exception of Bobby—and they’re all annoyingly attractive, right?”

Especially annoying is one particular pilot.

“I never thought in a million years a guy like Bradley would develop a thing for me.”

“How’d you meet him?” you ask Millie, who instantly grins at the memory.

“I've got an uncle in the Navy,” she says, and if you closed your eyes, her southern accent would take you right to Alabama. You didn’t do well in Alabama. But Millie is far from a representation of the population you’d found yourself within. “Came to visit for the summer, met Bradley, and that was that.”

“You never went back home?”

She lets out a laugh that almost has her rolling onto her side. “Oh no, Honey, I did,” she finally gets out. “But I gave that dope my phone number. He kept callin’ and textin’. Wouldn’t leave me alone until I agreed to come back.”

Giving her an amused look at the image of that burly pilot a few yards away being so desperate, Millie giggles and pats your knee.

“I know, what a creep. But he won me over before I left, so I was lenient,” she says. “We spent more time together, and when he asked me to be his girl and move in with him, I said yes. Actually, I got here not long before you arrived.”

You take a moment to think over what she’s shared over the course of the night. Millie is young, at least a decade separating her and her boyfriend, and, from what you understand after her earlier telling of her story for you, she had a whole life on the other side of the country. A mother, a grandmother, a brother, a father who is less than thrilled his baby girl lives with a man much older than herself. A job lined up at her family’s small business. A good country boy everyone expected her to start dating soon. Yet, it appears with no reservations, she picked up, left her family, her business, and that country boy to settle in with Rooster.

You can’t help but question what it would take for you to pick a place and stay in it. Neither can you remember the last town you lived in for more than four months.

“Do you like it here?” you ask.

“Oh, it's lovely. Different, absolutely. But it’s not about here,” she shakes her head. “It’s about him. I’ll go where he goes.” Turning her head, she looks back to the group and smiles. A blush spreads across her cheeks from whatever charming, flirty gesture you guarantee Rooster just directed her way. “Datin’ a pilot,” she continues, her gaze back on the ocean, “is certainly…somethin’. It’s got its challenges, for sure, but Bradley is worth it.”

You nod because, on a level, you understand. Rooster is as kind as he is good-looking, and it takes about three breaths in their presence to see that he’s head over heels in love with his girlfriend. He’s gentle with her in a way you’ve never known—sweet—and when he looks at her, you see in his eyes that he is looking at his future. His wife. The mother of his children. Whether she knows of his plans or not, it makes sense that she stays by his side. No one with their head on straight would let that go if they could get away with it.

“Jake’s a good guy, ya know,” Millie suddenly states, her honey-toned eyes meeting the plane of your profile. “He’d be worth it, too.”

Eyes widening, your head snaps to her so fast you feel a muscle tweak in your neck.

She smiles softly, almost motherly though she’s younger than you, then she stands and dusts the sand off the back of her cutoffs. “Just somethin’ to think about, Honey,” she says. “I’ll let him know you’re alright.”

With Millie gone, you take extra minutes to collect yourself; take your deep breaths and try to wrap your head around her words. You’re not so sure you can. They’re as hard to push aside as the words and names directed at you in the past—the reasons you abandoned the places you’ve been to end up here. But for the first time, you don’t taste that sourness on your tongue or feel the swell and ache of nausea in your gut. There’s a wiggliness to your nerves from anxiety, but they accompany an intense pounding of your heart you’ve not experienced in so long you’d almost forgotten what it’s like.

Standing, you brush away the sand that had snuck its way into the folds of your clothes and you turn. At some point, Jake switched seats with Bradley for the one that faces the ocean, faces you, and your stare instantly meets his.

His knee is bouncing. He gives you a smile laced with concern, but it has enough power behind it to encourage you closer. So you step forward, one foot before the other until you see the movement of a bobbing head in your peripherals. Breaking your connected stare, your eyes flick to the right of Jake’s head and onto a figure in the distance.

And much like that mug from this morning, you think you know this figure.

---

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#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x plus size!reader #jake seresin fluff #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin angst

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stvharrngton · 6 months

Text

kinktober: day twenty one

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

kink: sixty nine

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, oral (f and m receiving)

word count: 0.5k

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @wheel-of-hyperfixation @mooonyweasley @steveshairspray @jjmaybankswifes-blog

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

It started off simple. Steve laying back on the bed, head resting against the pillows, you nestled between his legs. He was bare, you getting rid of his last piece of clothing long ago.

He couldn’t stop staring. You were busy, occupied with his stiff length in your mouth, putting your chest flat against the sheets, your hips raised in the air. You did it on purpose, the aim of your game to turn him on even more. And boy, did you succeed.

“Baby,” he rasped, giving you a soft tap on your shoulder, “why don’t you come up here?” Steve had asked you.

So you followed his lead, manoeuvring yourself on top of him so your pussy was level with Steve’s gaze. He let his large hands wander over your ass, his fingers squeezing at the flesh. He gripped your cheeks and pulled them apart, letting his eyes wander over your puckered hole down to your pussy.

You hummed around his cock as Steve let his tongue lie flat, licking a flat stripe up your cunt. The vibrations travelled through his skin, goosebumps erupting as he groaned into your heat.

“Taste so good, baby,” he breathed as he swirled his tongue over your clit. Lips wrapping around the bud now, sucking harshly.

Steve’s toes curled as you took him in as far as you could, the tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat. The tightness of your throat mixed with the sound of you gagging on his shaft sent Steve reeling. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he stepped up his game, fully engulfing his mouth and tongue into your sopping cunt.

It was almost like a game of cat and mouse. A taunting, teasing contest of who could one up each other more. Who could send each other hurtling towards the edge the fastest. But as soon as you cupped Steve’s balls, rolling them in your palm it was game over.

Steve wrapped his strong arms around your waist, bending his knees on the bed as he began to fuck his cock into your mouth. He still ate your pussy like a man starved, his warm honey eyes screwed shut as the only thoughts circling his brain were you. Youyouyou.

It amazed you how he could stay focused whilst you gagged around him, your saliva coating his cock, a string of thick drool connecting your mouth to his length. But Steve was a generous lover and he’d be damned if he couldn’t make you cum no matter how good your mouth felt around him.

“Fucking hell,” he moaned, taking a moment to kiss at the skin of your ass, his finger coming to tease your hole, “your mouth feels so, shit— so fuckin’ tight. Need you to cum, honey. Want you to cum all over my tongue.”

It didn’t take much more - Steve’s cock heavy in your mouth, the feeling of his tongue all over you in the right places, the muscle licking into your wet hole, it was all becoming too much to handle. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you whined around his shaft, feeling that familiar wave of pleasure roll throughout your body.

You came in a heap, your thighs clenching as you did your best not to let Steve’s cock slip from your mouth. You rutted your hips, grinding your pussy on Steve’s face, a mixture of his saliva and your juices making a total mess of his face.

But boy, was Steve in heaven.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #kinktober2023 #k.fic

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emperornorton47 · 1 year

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Motor Home

#Motor home #Highway #Twenty nine palms #San Bernardino County #california #photo #digital #original photographers #Dash cam

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deargojou · 2 months

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Thank u for accepting the request! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ G.satoru & fluff (suggestive maybe). He gives u kisses on different parts of ur body. the kisses number is the same as your birthday. You can set the age whatever you like. I don't have much idea ㅠ﹏ㅠ I think there's a film like this..not sure, just goggled it now.

【 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 】

You wake slowly, gradually becoming aware of the warm sunlight filtering through the curtains. As you blink open your eyes, the first thing you see is Gojo’s face just inches from yours. His eyes are soft and full of love as he gazes down at you.

“Happy birthday, cutie,” he murmurs, a smile spreading across his handsome features. He leans in and presses his lips to yours in a sweet, lingering kiss.

As you stretch and let out a small yawn, Gojo begins showering your face with little kisses. His lips graze your forehead, both cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally land on your lips for a deeper, more passionate kiss. You can’t help but grin against his lips, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

“Well, good morning to you too, Mr. Smooches,” you giggle as you reach out to caress his cheek.

He only grins before saying, “I wanted to be the first one to wish you a happy birthday.” His eyes shine with adoration as he gazes down at you, “and the first one to give you birthday appreciation.”

Your heart swells with affection. Gojo has always made you feel so cherished. Even on regular days, he is constantly showing you how much he cares through small affectionate gestures. But on your birthday, he is going above and beyond to make you feel extra special.

“Just bear with me for a moment, sweetheart. Stay still,” he says before positioning himself hovering over you.

“When have I not?” you lightheartedly said, which was returned by his feigned offended face, “Excuse me? I’m trying to be sweet for your sweet sixteen here,” he huffs.

“Alright, alright, you’re excused,” you run your fingers over his hair with a chuckle.

“Thank you,” he rolls his eyes playfully.

Gojo leans down and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, “one,” he counts. He moves to both of your cheeks, pecking each one softly, “two.”

You realize Gojo is counting each kiss, starting from one, to represent each year you are turning today. The significance and thought he put into this melts your heart.

Your nose is next, he nuzzles against yours before leaving a tiny kiss, “three.” You giggle as he tilts your chin up to reach it, “four,” he whispered, placing a dramatic smooch there.

Shivering, you feel his lips press behind each of your ears, “six.” Gojo nuzzled against your neck, kissing down with another count, “seven.” He moves down to kiss your collarbones, “eight.”

He slides his lips to your shoulder, “nine.” His fingers trail down to lift each of your wrists to his lips, “ten.” He lingers on your palms, “eleven.”

You inhale sharply as Gojo moves lower, pushing up your pajama pants to access your bare thighs and calves. He kisses each one gently. “Twelve… thirteen.”

Working back up your body, he lifts your shirt to place a lingering kiss on your stomach, “fourteen.” His fingers dance along your sides, making you squirm. Leaning down over your chest, he kisses between your breasts. “fifteen.”

Finally, Gojo cups your face, gazing into your eyes. “Sixteen,” he whispers. He presses his lips to yours in a slow, passionate kiss that makes your heart race. You melt into his embrace, feeling adored.

As you break apart, giggling, you cheekily say, “Wasn’t that twenty-three kisses total?”

Gojo shakes his head, insisting “Nope! It was sixteen―one for each of your sweet sixteen years!” You roll your eyes but can’t keep the delighted grin off your face.

“Aren’t you so sweet?” you pull him down for another kiss to express your gratitude.

“Not as sweet as you are right now,” he continues to pamper your face in kisses. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to stop any time soon.

I don’t know what movie would that be but hope you like this, annonie 🥹🥹

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kkami-writes · 7 months

Text

waiting for us — chapter twenty nine. girl dinner wc. 673 + 2 SS

The restaurant is quite nice, not too big and crowded but instead feeling a little more personal with smaller tables. There is plenty of people here but everything is spread out so nicely that you barely even notice. You have no aversions to food so you let Changbin order for the two of you. If he orders much more than normal for two people, you don’t call him out on it.

He’s the perfect gentlemen though, grilling all the meat and putting lots of vegetables and side dishes on your plate. It’s rather cute and you let the boy indulge a little.

“So you’re undecided right now, yeah?” Changbin breaks the silence with a question. It has you furrowing your eyebrows in confusion for a second before realizing what he was asking.

“Yeah. Honestly nothing really appeals to me right now,” You shrug, chopsticks poking at your kimchi before taking a bite.

“That’s perfectly valid. You should have seen innie during his senior year, practically pulling his hair trying to think of a major. Of course we told him he didn’t have to pick but he was pretty adamant on it for some reason,” Changbin laughs as he remembers just how panicked their maknae was before starting college.

“Well to be fair not everyone can be so talented like you. You guys were meant for the stage, that’s very clear to see,” At this he blushes and you find it so endearing how shy he is for a guy who you’d probably pay to put you in a choke hold.

The conversation lulls but it’s not uncomfortable in the slightest with Changbin happily eating and grilling, never forgetting to place food on your plate either.

The two of you talk a bit more, mostly you asking questions about 3RACHA’s producing process to which Changbin happily talks your ear off about. He invites you to come check out their own little recording studio, something you excitedly agree on.

In the end Changbin insists on paying for dinner to which you only agree if you get to pay for ice cream. He reluctantly gives in, only if that meant he got to spend more time with you. Luckily there was a little shop nearby that you two decide to walk to, enjoying the cool air of fall while he eagerly swings your conjoined hands together.

Both of you end up sharing a small cup of something chocolately. To be honest you hadn’t been paying much attention, more focused on how large Changbin’s hands felt compared to yours and hoped he couldn’t feel how clammy your palms were.

He doesn’t let go of your hand a single time, even when he’s driving you home and you don’t even have the time nor brain capacity to unpack the fact that you found it incredibly hot to watch him drive with one hand.

You have Changbin drop you off at the same corner of the street he had picked you up from, having explained that your parents didn’t really allow you to date. (Not entirely true but it was the best excuse you could come up with when the boy had asked why he couldn’t just pick you up at home).

“Bye Bin, thanks for the amazing date,” You give him a shy smile, the boy still clinging to your hand because honestly, he really didn’t want to let you go. But alas, he must. Before you slide your fingers out from his grasp he pulls it to his lips, pressing the softest kiss against your skin before letting you finally slip out of the car.

For your sake, he ignores the way your face flushes a lovely pink.

“Bye pookie!! I’ll text you later,” The nickname falls so easily from his lips and it causes you to double over in laughter. Why was it so endearing for this buff man to call you pookie?

God, you were so screwed. You think to yourself as you make your way towards your house, a dumb smile on your face.

previous | masterlist | next waiting for us taglist (50/50) send an ask or sign up here!: @abbiestearsricochet @boo-ven9eance @adorawritesalot @melleus @inlovewithallmusic @alnex05 @borahae-reads @zonked-times @yoonrimin @slay-and-gay @loverlixie @katsukis1wife @realrintaro @0325tiny @adestayskz @minhwa @littleaprilcherryblossom @soobery @lillithathecat @ilychee08 @everglowdaisies @boi-bi-ahaha @yandere-stories @orchid-mantis-petals @minhoie @popcatx0 @stayinhellevator @gemi-moon @jaiuneamesolitaiire @enchantedgrunge @corrodedthorn @143lix @ashitshowforalot @xrvrqs @lynlyndoll @txtandroll @kawennote09 @liknws @ritzy-dream-boy @vampcharxter @jisuperboard @surefornext @puppy-minnie @freckleboilix @imwithurmother @turtledove824 @fylithia @toshijimafarms @hyunestrella @blackrowses

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smau #stray kids social media au #stray kids fake texts #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #skz smau #skz social media au #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz texts

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pinknipszz · 5 days

Note

can i rq some mafia boss! sukuna hcs pls :3c

mafia au’s r my guilty pleasure! i’ve never written one tho, so this is prob injected with like a million inaccuracies. i still hope u like this!

mafia boss sukuna who grew up as the runt of the litter in a commission that commits financial schemes, from embezzlement to bribery. later he learned that the commission was only part of a much bigger organization. at the tender age of six, he finally saw the boss, the ruler of the roost. even then, it was only in passing.

mafia boss sukuna who met him again, this time in person, at eleven-years old. he remembers how he had spoken so eloquently for a man in dirty business, as if he held the mandate of heaven in his palm’s center, but sukuna didn’t think much of it. what struck him most was the little girl, who was not much younger than him, tucked under his robe.

mafia boss sukuna who was sorted to a different commission at nineteen, which put an end to his money laundering days. it was there that sukuna learned how to take charge of smaller tasks, like substance distribution (but never manufacturing; they didn’t trust him enough), and it was fun for a little while. by then, however, his needs grew teeth.

mafia boss sukuna who finally saw you again after he just turned twenty-four. it was supposed to be a quick transaction between two commissions, an in-and-out operation, but you’re dangling in front of him like a succulent piece of meat, and you’re just so lovely, so unfit for dirty business. perhaps it’s the only semblance you share with your old man.

mafia boss sukuna who was finally promoted to head commissioner at twenty-nine, the youngest they’ve ever seen. the old bastard celebrated his accomplishment with a party at a caporegime’s home outside of the bustling city. parties aren’t his thing, but sukuna smiles when he sees you again before bringing his glass to his lips. third time’s the charm, right?

mafia boss sukuna who can play your papa like a fiddle. at the age of thirty-two, sukuna is in his prime, and so are you, his little lady—the way your belly swells sends a clear message to his subordinates. there’s still a long way to go before he can reach the top, but for now, sukuna is content with sitting across from your father at the dining table.

(masterlist)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen

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warmau · 3 months

Text

☆ commission: cat cafe!au x lovestruck!au juyeon note: you're the lovestruck one in this

you're not sure when it starts

maybe the day you get silver in, the skinny grey tabby who skittishly avoids every patron, settling into a small ball of fur on the top perch of one of the cat trees

the only human allowed to handle her is juyeon, who talks to her quietly and soothingly and who can hold her in the palm of one hand

maybe it's the weekend you get a whole group of university girls - colorful and loud - flirting endlessly over cat treats and milk tea with juyeon because he's nice and doesn't know the difference between friendly and a little too friendly

or maybe there isn't a way to pinpoint the beginning of your feelings because they've just been inside you for so long that the root is impossible to trace

you look at juyeon from over the register, watch him pick up cat toys and empty glasses from customer ordered drinks

you notice him stop for a second to let silver take a tentative few steps toward him before she's nudging against his ankle with her small head

and you just............feel.................warmth

he turns to call out to you, and your eyes drop down to the counter because ever since it - whatever this is - started

you cannot fathom ever letting juyeon know

"do you still want me to go out and buy litter today?"

you glance at the clock on the wall, shaped like a cat, tail swinging languidly

"it's almost nine so i'll just do it tomorrow when i open."

"sure." he smiles and your chest gets all toasty with adoration "don't pick anything too heavy."

✧

on your way home, you scroll aimlessly through your photos to check which brand to get in the morning when your finger stops on one photo in particular

your first week at the cat cafe

the owner is posing next to you with a big grin, to his left is eric who is doing an enthusiastic v-pose, and then to your right is juyeon

he's wearing a white tshirt underneath his apron, black hair pulled back under a baseball cap, blue jeans and sneakers

he doesn't even try and still manages to be the most handsome man i've ever seen

the train jolts and your finger leaves the photo, scrolling up to some other photo

this one is just you, taken by a friend at some outing

does he look at me at all? does he look at me the way i look at him?

you lock your phone and sigh, these feelings inside of you can continue to grow but you are sure you won't ever let them bloom into anything. especially not something juyeon can ever see.

the next morning, you find yourself in a match with the twenty-five pound bag of litter

you had lifted it at the nearby store and thought to yourself, incorrectly, that you would make the trek back to the cafe with no issues

half a block you had been puffing - dropping the bag as carefully as possible to the sidewalk

"one of the cats is twenty five pounds, why does this stupid bag feel like it's a hundred?"

you catch your breath as a long shadow suddenly obscures your own

"i knew you would overdo it."

you straighten up and see juyeon

"juy- your shift doesn't start till three in the afternoon?!?"

he surveys the bag and the little beads of sweat on the side of your face.

without a word, he picks up the bag and throws it over his shoulder like it's absolutely nothing

"i'll help you bring this in." he outstretches his free hand to you as if to ask if you need help getting stable

you shyly shake your head and he waits as you adjust

the walk to the cafe is quiet.

it's early, and the start of the weekend, so shops are opening but there isn't a crowd yet

"don't be scared."

you freeze - don't be scared? did i mishear him?

"sorry?"

juyeon's expression is unreadable when you look at him for confirmation

his clean skin and pretty eyes radiate calmness. his lips in a slightly upturned curve.

"don't be scared to ask me for help. you've been at the cafe for a while now, the cats like you and i-"

you......like me..........too?

"and i appreciate anyone who is fond of cats like i am."

oh. right.

you laugh awkwardly, covering your mouth out of habit.

"ok, i will. sorry to bother you before your shif-"

juyeon's long fingers wrap around your wrist and you stop in the middle of the street

gently, as if he's handling a kitten, he pulls your hand from your face

"you should never hide your laughter."

it's random, uncalled for even - people don't just say things like that in the middle of a conversation

but juyeon does it as if it's the most normal reaction

and he just blinks when you stare back at him - heart hammering in your chest

"r-ri-right, i won't. but um - will you go back home since you're not scheduled till three?"

juyeon shrugs and you two resume walking

the store is on the next block and when you get to the door, juyeon shifts the bag from one shoulder to the other

"do you need any help opening?"

you fumble with the key, the feeling of his gaze makes you a little dizzy

"n-no i think i have it. you should go back home and get some more sleep."

he nods and follows you inside, placing the litter by the door

without another word to you, he enters the part of the store where the cats are

you pretend to busy yourself with organizing the little chairs in the cafe section, but secretly you watch as he heads right toward the little corner that silver has made her home in

he stands there - seemingly checking if she's awake - and you see him outstretch his hand

always so patient, no wonder she picked him as his favorite. i would too.

you shake your head at the thought, as if to get it out of your head, busying yourself with the usual duties

juyeon emerges a couple of minutes later and waves at you as he opens the door

"i'll be back at three."

"ok!"

and nothing else.

you realize only after it's quiet and you're all on your own again that you didn't get to ask juyeon what in the world he was doing here so early

was he jogging around the neighborhood? did he get up early to go to the same pet store...for a pet he doesn't have? or ........ or........ had he been thinking about you?

you bite back your lip, wondering if its selfish to even have the thought

the thought that juyeon, perfect juyeon, everyone's crush juyeon - could possibly have been laying in his sheets this morning and thinking about going out to check on you

as if to answer you, you hear a loud and annoyed meow

"right. breakfast."

you mumble and let your thoughts about what could or could not have happened this morning find a shelf in the back of your mind

✧

three o'clock comes by even faster than you expect

juyeon comes in, followed by always energetic eric

before you even get a chance to greet them - eric comes bounding toward you with shining eyes

"i heard you totally couldn't even lift ten pounds of litter this morning!"

you deadpan at him, "it was twenty-five pounds."

he shakes his head, hands on his hips, "job requirement says you have to lift fifty pounds or more! i'm telling the boss!"

an obvious joke, you roll your eyes, but juyeon furrows his eyebrows as he joins you

"eric - don't tell the boss that. i don't want them to get in trouble."

you and eric both look at him a little dumbfounded, trying to find a hint of sarcasm in his tone

but juyeon is completely genuine. as he always is.

eric burst into laughter, "dude! i was just playing, teasing!"

he shoves into juyeon's shoulder, who just sways with surprise

"oh."

you giggle, lifting your hand up to your mouth again, but stopping - remembering juyeon's soft voice in the morning

you should never hide your laughter

juyeon's eyes waiver for a moment, from your awkward hand to your lips, or maybe you just imagine it

because he turns and lets you deal with eric's presence by yourself as he lets himself into the cat enclosure

as eric talks a million miles a minute and you help a group of new customers, you second guess the events of the day in your head again

there's no way he would go out of his way to see me this morning. it was just a coincidence. it has to be just a coincidence. juyeon has never shown any kind of interest toward m-

"oh shit!"

the exclaimed voice belongs to eric, who pushes past the register and approaches you with big, sparkling eyes

which can only mean one thing

"can you cover the rest of my shift? pleaaaaaaaase!"

you huff, "why?"

he tries to make himself all cute and sweet, "it's an emergency! for reaaaaaaal! i promise, i'll owe you!"

you don't know how much you believe this 'emergency' - and you've been here since the early morning.

you're tired, you don't even have tomorrow off, and you were looking forward to catching the latest episode of a drama you've been into

but

the cat enclosure opens, and juyeon walks out. behind him is a customer that's clearly starstruck by him.

"let me go get the adoption form." juyeon tells them and the big, fluffy orange cat in his hands purrs

the customer nods and as juyeon passes you and eric, he lifts the cats paw in acknowledgement

how is he the cutest person ever.

"so will you do it? i'm sorry to ask but i gotta go like now if you can!"

another...what....four hours with juyeon? till closing?

"fine. but you're taking my early morning next week."

"deal!" eric is already undoing his apron and rushing toward the back for his stuff

✧

juyeon only registers that you're still here about an hour later.

busy with the adoption procedure, when he waves off the customer with their new pet, he turns and his eyes widen innocently

"i thought you left?"

"eric had an emergency."

concern overtakes the look of shock

"have you taken a break yet? did you eat?"

you remember the sad excuse you had for lunch and shake your head

"sit down, i'll take care of everything till closing."

the way he says it - the words are clear, calm like midday waves

"it's ok -"

juyeon is already pulling a chair from the cafe area behind the register

you sit only because juyeon doesn't seem to look like he's going to move if you don't

"we need to clean before we clo-"

"i can do it." he leans down and for a second the world stops. his face gets so close you can smell whatever detergent he used on his tshirt.

picking some lint from your apron strap, he straightens up.

you feel like your head spins back into a moving world

cutest person ever, with no sense of personal space. great. i pick the best ones.

"the cats were good today. it won't take long."

you make yourself a cup of water and take one of the candy bars from the front to nibble on as you wait for the last party of people to finish playing with the cats

juyeon floats back and forth between helping inside and making the odd drink order

you get up to help and he just points at the chair without a word

stuck there, all you can do is observe

usually you do it in secret, only flinging little peeks over at him when you think he's too distracted

but today - you just watch. and juyeon let's you.

whenever he catches you, his lips curl into just the smallest smile or he asks if you're ok and need him for anything

it's oddly intimate

finally, with the crowd gone, you tally up the cash in the register and juyeon wipes down the tables

he disappears for a moment only to come over to you with a small ball of fluff in his hands

"silver?" you ask, looking at the familiar white stripe down her back

juyeon nods and use one finger to caress her, she mewls and tucks her head into his skin

"she doesn't trust me yet." you say with a sad smile "i think you're the only one she likes right now."

he steps closer and outstretches his cupped hands

"she might hiss-" you start, but juyeon shakes his head as if he's well aware that she won't

"she's comfortable with you." he states like it's a fact "the person she's still timid around is eric because he's......"

juyeon pauses like he's embarrassed to say something mean about another person

"he's loud." you finish his sentence, adding a - "but he's just born that way."

you take in a small breath and lean closer, silver wiggles in juyeon's hands and turns to face you, big blue eyes borrowing into your own

when you let the pad of your finger grace the top of her head - she blinks slow

and then tucks herself back into juyeon

"see, she doesn't mind it." he looks at her with a fondness juyeon seems to reserve only for animals

his usual look of soft uninterest is gone, his eyes are full of care and love

you hate to admit the pang of jealousy that circles around your heart as he takes silver back to the other cats

is there a person in your life that you look at with those eyes? are they the luckiest person in the world?

✧

juyeon waits as you lock the door, and he's still waiting when you're done and start your walk toward the train

"don't you live in the other direction?"

you start and then realize that that might sound weird, but, as always, juyeon seems unaffected

"it's dark out so i'll walk you to the train. you worked almost twelve hours so i'm worried."

you shake your head, stopping on the sidewalk

"no - it's ok, really! i don't want you to have to make the walk there and back-"

juyeon blinks at you slowly, for a second he looks just like sleepy and comfortable silver

"i'll walk you. i don't mind."

you resume your steps just because you think protesting more won't get you anywhere

as calm and serene as juyeon is, you can never really win against him. like a rock - unnervingly silent and impossible to move.

half way to the train the silence makes your nerves bubble up to the surface and you spit out the question that's been nagging you all day

"wha- what were you doing near the pet store this morning?"

you hold the strap of your backpack tightly as the words come out

"were you on a morning run or-"

juyeon tilts his head from the night sky to match your gaze

"i was looking for you."

for a second time you bring yourself to a full halt

"so - you went there on purpose?"

juyeon's confusion is as clear as day on his handsome features

"of course? i knew you'd pick something heavy and so i got up early to meet you. isn't that what you do? when you care about someone?"

"c-care about someone?"

possibly one hundred thoughts race through your mind at once and a hot feeling starts to crawl up your neck

care? as in ...... as in care about me as a co-worker? as a friend? as a silly person in his life that he assumes (correctly) will make silly decisions - what in the world is he talking about?

juyeon puts his hands in his pocket and, for the first time in your life, you see him bashfully drop his eyes to the ground

"i - i care about you because i like you." he lets himself after a moment find your gaze "isn't it obvious?"

"........obvious........"

the word drops from your lips in stunned disbelief and juyeon gives you a smile that you commit to memory forever

"y-yes? aren't i always being obvious around you?"

you try to think of the time that you've know juyeon - that you've known the soft spoken, considerate, polite, a little dense but otherwise incredibly smart, perfect man you know and no. no not once has he shown any "obvious" interest toward you

"i mean, no? i'm the blubbering idiot that's obviously in love with you!"

it comes out on reflex and juyeon's eyes go wide to match the moon that hangs above you two

"oh- oh! you - you also like me? i mean...love me....?"

clamping your hands over your mouth - you lurch forward in a run

juyeon calls your name in surprise, but you can't even turn to face him

you wave your hand above your head

"i'll see you tomorrow! sorry!"

juyeon does the kindest thing possible and doesn't follow after you

you spend the entirety of the train ride home staring at your phone screen completely zoned out

aren't i always being obvious around you?

"we're both just dumb.....that has to be it......"

✧

eric is smiling from ear to ear when you come in and you know that means one thing: juyeon told him everything

the second you put your things down, eric is pushing you toward the storage room and shutting the door right behind you

"you can't come out until you're dating!"

the words are swallowed up in your mind to the sight of juyeon standing there

he looks at you and his long fingers tap against each other behind his back

"i-"

you both start and then immediately bristle like a pair of newly introduced cats

"i didn't know!" you blurt out, heart starting to pick up a racing pace in your chest, "i didn't know you also liked me so if it's ok with you-"

juyeon, to no ones surprise, wears his heart on his sleeve

"if it's ok will you go out with me?"

he bends down at the waist, as if he's thanking you and not asking you to date him

you were about to ask the same thing, but the absurdity of the situation just elicits a hiccupping laugh from you

"y-yes" you say, repeating it through giggles "yes, i will!"

you are about to cover your mouth again, when juyeon's fingers wrap around your wrist delicately

and you look at him, as he starts to laugh too

when you open the door - eric gives you two an expectants

"well?"

juyeon opens his mouth, but nothing comes out - so you put your hands up

"you said we couldn't come out till we started dating and well...."

eric's shout of happiness makes all the cats stir, soft meows and pads of their paws against the glass

you're not sure when this crush started - when juyeon's started either - but you're happy to know that somehow down the line your hearts opened up to each other like this.

#thank you for the commission!#the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz au #juyeon scenarios #juyeon imagines #juyeon au #tbz scenarios #tbz au #tbz fluff #the boyz fluff #member: juyeon #sfw

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dilemmaontwolegs · 3 months

Text

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {5}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: The most anticipated race of the year is here, and the most controversial, Las Vegas GP. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff, angst, injury WC: 3.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

Round Twenty Two - Las Vegas

Kristian sat on a weight bench, flipping through the pages of the motherhood magazine he was reading. Every so often he would look up and give some guidance until the tips became a nuisance.

“I should have fired you,” you muttered as you rose up from the last lunge.

“You say that a lot but you should keep your back straight,” he shot back, grating you further with the slow scrape of the page turning. “And keep your feet in line with your hips.”

“Can we play some decent music at least?” you whined between the gulps of water you swallowed down. The training was far less intensive than they used to be with everything focused on just maintaining fitness and health rather than a goal weight or strength like before.

“Nope,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying being able to boss you around the gym again. “Baroque is good for the baby.”

“Bullshit.” There was no way the classical music meant anything to her, she was only the size of an avocado - or so Lando said. He had an app that he checked daily and uploaded photos onto as a keepsake.

Kristian turned back to the start of the magazine and turned it around, tapping the title of the article. “So you think you know more than Harvard scholars now, Spitfire?”

He took your silence for defeat and pointed to the pool door. “Twenty lap cool down and then it’s breakfast.”

Your stomach grumbled at the mention of food and you grabbed a towel as you passed the door to the changing room. Breakfast didn’t feel like the right term since it was well past lunchtime. The whole Las Vegas schedule had screwed your body clock with the late night practices and qualifying rounds but you were grateful it was the last night of it.

Lando and Charles had been fast asleep when you slipped out of the room. Something had disturbed you from the dream you were having and despite the room being pitch black with the thick blockout curtains your body could tell it was daytime. Thankfully Kristian was already awake and happy to move your fitness session up a few hours.

Cool water washed over you as you dove into the tepid pool and started to glide along the surface. One, two, three, breathe. One, two, three, breathe. The monotony was therapeutic and you didn’t even bother to keep count of the laps - your mind was elsewhere.

You had been dead on your feet in the wee hours of the morning after you finally left the track with Lando and Charles after qualifying finished. They still had adrenaline flooding their systems and had no hope of sleeping when they sunk into the couch cushions and pulled your exhausted body over their legs.

You were in a drowsy state, half asleep but half aware of the other two chatting quietly together. Their hands had softly caressed your skin, brushing your shirt up so they could feel the warmth of your abdomen beneath their palms.

“She’s so beautiful, Cha, and she’s carrying our kid. I don’t think I have ever been this happy in my life,” Lando hummed as he rested his head on Charles’ shoulder and smiled at their hands.

“We are very lucky to have her,” he agreed as he kissed Lando softly.

“So…” You tasted the mischief in Lando’s drawn out tone and it stirred some energy back into your body. “When can I start calling you daddy?”

Charles’ legs shifted beneath you with a groan and you willed your eyes to open as his cheeks flushed pink. “Mon cher...”

“You can call me papi chulo,” Lando smirked. “It means-”

“I know what it means,” Charles choked, knowing exactly who had taught him that too. “Carlos is a menace, but if anyone is going to be papi chulo it’s me.”

You nearly swallowed a mouthful of water as the memory of what had happened next led to a lapse in your count and you pulled yourself out of the pool with a splutter. Those two had a lot to answer for.

“Here,” Kristian said as he tossed a bottle of water to you. “Try not to drink from the pool.”

“What would I do without you?” you asked dryly.

“I don’t dare to think about that,” he joked before he said your favourite words. “Let’s go eat.”

You stared at the egg on your plate before pushing it away with disinterest. Charles looked up from his own plate and frowned at the rare sight of the food that remained on yours.

“Would you like something else, mamie?”

You smiled at the new endearment and watched Lando cut an avocado in half before passing one part over to you. The vibrant green flesh did look delicious but when you held it in your hand you could only think about the bump that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. You hadn’t noticed it before changing into your swimsuit but when you peeled the tight layer off in the gym's changing room you had frozen. The mirrored wall caught your side profile under glaring fluorescent lights and there, just below your belly button it swelled ever so slightly.

A hand waved in front of your face and you broke away from the memory to see both your boyfriends watching you with worried frowns. One of them had obviously spoken to you but you couldn’t recall hearing them as you stared at the avocado.

“You’re crying,” Lando murmured as he swiped away the tear on your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s this big already. Our baby is the size of an avocado. She’s so tiny,” you said with a small laugh, raising the fruit higher for inspection. They looked at you like you were a little crazy and it wouldn’t have been the first time that was suspected but you pushed the chair out and placed the avocado back on the table. “Come, I want to show you something.”

You led them to the bedroom and Charles opened his mouth to break the bad news that they didn’t have time for even a quickie. The thought had crossed your mind when you found them still naked and splayed across the bed before breakfast was ready, but they needed to get to the track soon for media duties and to prepare for the race.

“That’s a shame but also not what I came here for,” you admitted as you started to remove your shirt.

“I’m getting mixed messages here,” Lando chuckled as he reached for his own shirt. “But I don’t mind being late.”

“Stop, before I really do make you stay,” you chuckled knowing they would do anything for you. You dropped your shirt and turned sideways while you stared at the reflection in the mirror. “Look…”

Their eyes followed the wave of your hand, the way your palm drifted over your hip to cradle the small bump, and Lando gasped along with Charles soft praise. Knees hit the soft carpet below your feet and warm lips replaced your hand, teasing your skin with kisses. Two heads of dark hair bowed against your stomach and whispered words of promise you couldn’t quite hear, but they weren’t for your ears. Finally they looked up, emerald and azure eyes filled with enough love that you were certain your chest was going to crack open.

You reached for their cheeks and felt the same dampness that coated yours. “She’s real,” you whispered. It had taken a few weeks but finally it all felt real. She wasn’t just a picture on a piece of paper or measurements of a hormone in a blood test. She was real, and she was yours.

“You look like a twat,” you greeted Max with a grin, flapping the collar of his race suit made to replicate Elvis Presley. “You’re just missing the blue suede shoes.”

Max rolled his eyes and ducked his head when you tried to mess his gelled hair up. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“Oh I am,” you laughed, slipping back into Charles’ side. “I’m actually happy to sit out this circus act.”

Max narrowed his eyes as he scanned your face for a lie or bitterness but all he saw was a bright smile and genuine amusement sparkling in your eyes. A sense of relief washed over him as for the first time since losing your seat you looked completely content and happy.

“I don’t blame you,” he finally replied and looked down at the costume he had been given. He would be glad when all this was over too. “I’ll see you at Omnia?”

The sun had already set on the strip and the temperature was quickly dropping as the hour grew late, and closer to the start of the race. “Maybe, if it’s a boring race I might not even be awake to see the end of it.”

“Fair enough.” He hoped you would be there to celebrate whatever the results were but he knew you were more exhausted in your current state and wouldn’t hold it against you. Christian waved at Max from across the street that divided the hospitality area from the garages and he gave you a quick hug, clapping Charles in the shoulder as he passed. “The Ring Master calls.”

“Drive safe!” He threw a thumbs up over his shoulder in answer and you laced your fingers with Charles’ before continuing to the McLaren garage.

It was strangely quiet for a race that had been hyped up so much over the last year, but you were kind of relieved that there were less people to weave between. It was great that the sport was growing in popularity but it was a pain in the ass trying to get anywhere when you are squashed like sardines in the paddock.

Somehow you still managed to bump into someone.

“Shit, sorry, Logan.”

“That was my bad,” he apologised as he turned to face the direction he was walking, waving back to the fan who had stopped him. His eyes widened when he saw who he had collided with and regret painted on his face. “Shit, are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I, or the, um…” he waved a hand to your stomach and you tilted your head wondering who had told him.

“I’m fine, but you knew?”

Logan scratched the back of his neck nervously and shrugged. “The walls were thin in the medical centre.”

You were dumbfounded and the sound that bubbled from your chest confirmed it. “Huh.”

“I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t,” he promised before his name was called and he waved to his PT. “Oh, congratulations though, I probably should have started with that.”

Charles laughed and shook the American’s hand. “Thanks, mate.”

You smiled and accepted the half hug he offered, probably thinking a handshake would be even more awkward. “Thanks, and congrats on your first point too.”

“Not as exciting as a baby.”

“Yeah it is,” you laughed, remembering your first point for Alpha Tauri. “That’s your baby right now.”

His smile grew as he set off to his PT and you carried on your way to see Lando before the race. There was still over an hour until lights out but every minute had been scheduled for media duties, meet and greets, and the driver parade. You wanted to have a few moments of their time before releasing them to the wild.

Charles’ hand slipped from yours as you reached McLaren and he cradled your cheek before kissing you. “Are you alright to get back on your own?”

You rolled your eyes before looking at the Ferrari space four garages down. “I don’t know, it’s pretty far…I might get lost and end up in the Bellagio.”

“If you do, bet it all on Red for me,” he joked. The smile on his face dimmed as he saw the magician and Carlos waiting for him. “I’ll see you after the race, mamie. Je t’aime.”

“Love you too.”

“And Lando too.” He would have preferred to tell Lando himself but he just ran out of time with all the activities his team had planned for race day.

“I’ll let him know, and I’ll even give him a kiss from you,” you teased as you stole another kiss for good measure.

“Any advice from the current world champion?” he asked as he started to back away.

You shook your head. “It’s Vegas, baby, just give them one hell of a show.”

To say the atmosphere in Ferrari was charged was an understatement. There was resentment for Carlos’ car being destroyed and his mechanics gritted their teeth as they walked to the middle of the grid thanks to the penalties for fixing the car. On the other side of the garage, the side where you sat with Joris, excitement permeated the air as you watched Charles’ walk to his car parked in pole position.

You were torn between that excitement and the sadness that had followed you since leaving McLaren. Lando was being too hard on himself again for the bad luck he had qualifying 15th, but he was determined to make his way to the front of the pack. If anyone was going to be called Spitfire in the race, it was going to be him. He was going to dogfight his way forward from the moment the lights went out.

One of the cameras panned the crowd and you spotted him walking up from his spot three quarters of the way down the grid, all the way to the front where Charles was talking to Max. For a moment you were once again hit with the sense of longing to be out there but the feeling washed away as quick as it came.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Joris asked as he looked up from his phone. You chuckled knowing Charles would have sent the reminder text but you shook your head.

“I’m fine, thank you. And you can tell Charles I am keeping hydrated too,” you said with a smile, shaking your water bottle for him to see.

“You can always trust him to worry more about others, even when he’s meant to be focusing on the race,” he laughed as he sent the reply. “Have you thought any more about where you want to go for the maternity shoot?”

Charles had been eager to lock his friend in as the official bump photographer but there was still another four months until it was the best time to have them taken. He was also open to taking photos while you were in labour but you weren't too sure how you felt about that yet.

“Somewhere warm.”

“So no alpine backdrops then,” he chuckled, probably remembering how much you had complained about hiking in the snow last winter.

You scoffed at the idea, an adamant refusal to it. “Not if you’re expecting me to wear something that shows the bump.”

The action around the garages stilled as the guests on the grid were guided away for the formation lap to begin and you breathed a sigh of relief when Charles made it back to the first box without drama. Even Joris released a nervous laugh beside you.

“That’s a better start,” he murmured so the engineers around him didn’t hear.

“Couldn’t get any worse than the last one,” you replied just as quietly.

You held your breath and felt the same rush of adrenalin fill you as if you were right out there in front of the lights with them. Your fingers twitched at your sides, the muscle memory begging them to prepare for action as each red light appeared, then all five were gone. The keen whines of twenty engines accelerating to their limit screamed into the night and you grinned at the sound even though it was muted by the headset.

“Oh, fuck off, Max,” you screamed as he pushed Charles wide and they both went off track before pulling back on with your brother taking the lead. Suddenly your attention was brought to the back of the pack where multiple cars had been involved in an incident, but Lando had managed to avoid it and slip ahead a few places too. “Come on, baby, you can do it.”

Although there had been a lot of complaints about the showy nature of racing in Las Vegas, there was no denying it was a track that offered a lot of entertainment with long straights to overtake and high risk high reward corners too. You could barely sit still with your eyes glued to the many screens around the garage offering almost every angle of the race.

“Ok, I think this race has just redeemed itself,” you commented with a smile as you watched the battles taking place around the track.

“It is pretty amazing,” Joris said with his own excited grin, but shock fell over him and you snapped your head back to screen dreading seeing Charles out of the race again. But it wasn’t Charles.

Sparks flew as the floor hit the asphalt and your brain couldn’t seem to understand why Lando’s car was facing the wrong way. Still it kept skidding along the straight at full speed, spinning back around just before it collided with the barrier at the end of the runoff. Your breath left your lungs with the force of the collision and your entire body stiffened as your ears began to ring loudly. Your stomach lurched as you desperately hit the keys on the screen to select the driver view and you saw Lando’s shaking hands pull his steering console out.

“I, I need to go,” you whispered as you stood up on weak legs. “Can you tell Charles?”

“Xavi can do that, I’ll walk with you,” he said with a shake of his head. His arm looped with yours and stabilised you as you tried to rush out of the garage. They weren’t even stopping the race because he wasn’t on track and that made you feel even sicker. What if someone else went into the runoff?

“Mr Norris,” Joris called out, waving the worried man down. You blinked as you realised you were already in the McLaren garage, but you couldn’t remember the walk there.

“He’s alright,” Adam assured you as he pulled you into his side and thanked Joris for the escort. “I spoke to him after he got out of the car. They are going to the medical centre. Come on, darling, we can go together.”

“He’s alright?” you double checked, your vision blurring with tears.

Adam gave a sure nod as he started back the way you came, except he went towards the medical centre instead of the other garages. “His ribs hurt but he’s tough.”

Max said that when he was a child he would sleep walk, Vicki too. You imagined this was how they felt. Detached. Moving through darkness. Closing your eyes and waking in a new place. You blinked and the concrete path you were on was suddenly linoleum.

“Lando…” you sighed as you found him on a gurney, white blankets tucked in close around him.

“Heeeey,” he slurred happily, wincing as he snaked a hand out of his swaddle to reach for you. “It’s my girls.”

“You’re on the strong stuff, aren’t you, my love?” You faked a smile for him and took his hand, tilting your head towards Adam and the doctor explaining what was happening. You carefully leaned over the bed and kissed Lando until he broke out in giggles and his head lolled lazily back against the pillow.

“They’re taking him to the hospital for some scans just in case there’s any broken ribs,” Adam relayed when he reached your side and gave Lando a kiss on his forehead. “How are you feeling, son?”

“It hurts to breathe, but this is good,” he said, holding up his hand that was connected to the IV bag filled with strong painkillers.

A nurse came and unlocked the wheels on the gurney before asking who was going to ride in the ambulance with Lando. Adam looked at you and nodded, and though you knew he would have wanted to go with his son himself you were selfish and couldn’t leave his side.

“I’ll follow behind,” Adam promised before Lando was wheeled away.

You walked at Lando’s side out of the medical centre and found tv crews waiting, their cameras zoomed in on Lando and capturing his almost drunken state. A little loopy from the drugs in his system, he waved his fingers at the camera. “This will be on Netflix next year,” he laughed before wincing at the pain that flared. “So it’s safe to tell them, ‘I’M GOING TO BE A FATHER!’ and they can’t say a thing.”

Adam froze at his son’s outburst, though it was no secret that he was eager to shout to the world his joy. “Lando…” he growled, looking at your wide eyes.

“What? They aren’t allowed to use the footage for months,” he huffed.

“That’s not Netflix,” you whispered, swallowing the lump in your throat as you watched the tv crew almost tremble with excitement. “That’s Sky TV.”

Click here for the next part.

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