#‘there’s someone out there for everyone’ SO WHERE ARE THEY???
Text
Angel || LN4
Summary: Kingsday gets a little wild, in honour of Lando’s nose.
Warnings: alcohol, injuries, blood
WC: 1.7k
Lando wasn’t drunk, but he was by no means sober either. Everyone had warned him the Kingsday event was a marathon not a sprint so he was taking it slow, sipping his rum and coke out of the orange paper cup while the river boat cruised its course.
By midafternoon it was another story completely.
Martin had taken a break and let a playlist continue the party without him on the deck while he went in search of Lando. The British driver had reached the point of being tipsy and fallen into a state of drunkenness where he could no longer block out his intrusive thoughts. Everywhere he looked couples were dancing or making out and he couldn’t help the despair of loneliness that separated him from the fun.
Leaning back on the cushions that covered the bow, Lando looked up to the bright blue sky and wondered why he couldn’t find someone that loved him with the same passion he had. He was always the one to fall harder and knew it was why things didn’t work out long-term.
The half empty cup was stolen from his hand and Lando lolled his head to see Martin drinking it dry. “No more for you, my friend. Smile! It’s Kingsday: the sun is out and the music is loud.”
“Sorry,” Lando sighed, not quite able to muster up a real smile.
“What’s wrong?” Martin dropped onto a cushion beside him and nudged his shoulder until Lando spilled the thoughts he was harbouring.
—
“These heels are killing me,” you complained as they wobbled on the cobblestone. “Can we stop for a minute?”
There were groans from some of the guys in the group but their girlfriends silenced them. You smiled gratefully at your friends but knew they were in just as much pain after hours of drinking in the city for Kingsday. The thought of walking any further to the house party someone had invited everyone to nearly had you calling for a taxi, despite the chances of getting one next to nothing.
“Lennon said there will be tons of single guys at the party. In that dress you will totally pull a 10,” Sarah said as she leaned back against the bridge rail and rolled each ankle to ease the ache.
You laughed at the statement and mirrored her position, careful not to drop the glass you had accidentally stolen from the last bar. “Getting laid isn’t the problem, it’s getting the guy to stick around afterwards.”
“Relationships are overrated,” she said, blowing a kiss to Lennon when he looked her way and raised a brow. “Not ours, baby.”
You sighed longingly as they shared a smile. “I want what you guys have.”
“Well then you better hurry up because the love of your life might just be waiting for you. Wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?”
You rolled your eyes but decided that you would continue the walk barefoot and put your heels back on when you got to the house. Leaning against the rail, you balanced on one foot and reached for your heel just as a drunkard went flying past on his e-bike.
“Ah, shit!” you screamed as you lost your balance, toppling back over the rail and straight towards the murky water below.
—
Martin yawned as he listened to Lando’s long winded explanation for why he was alone and all his friends were in relationships.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was putting you to sleep,” he sassed.
“Well if you want some advice, from someone in a relationship, you’re not helping yourself moping around. For starters, you need to get up,” Martin encouraged as he rose to his feet and offered his friend a hand before the sunlight disappeared, the boat passing under one of the many bridges. “Love isn’t going to just fall into your lap-”
A scream pierced the air before a flurry of orange material crashed onto Lando, both their eyes squinting to readjust to the bright sunlight out of the tunnel.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you realised you were still alive and you looked around to see what had broken your fall. “Holy shit, I am so sorry!”
A stunned man sat beneath you and you reached for his face as you noticed the blood running down his nose. “Oh my god, did I do that? Are you alright? Shit, you probably don’t speak English.”
“He speaks English. It’s getting him to shut up that’s the problem,” a man standing above you said with a laugh. “Lando, mate, snap out of it.”
You started to climb off his lap but his arms tightened around you and he shook his head with a wince. “Don’t move, you might have broken something.”
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you apologised again.
“Not me, you muppet,” he laughed. “You might have broken something.”
You patted yourself down, straightening your dress back into place at the same time, but everything felt fine. You tested your wrists and ankles too, only to notice you had indeed broken things.
“What’s the damage?” Lando asked.
“Ego mostly,” you admitted sheepishly. “I think I broke my heel on your face.”
“Pretty sure that was your glass,” he said looking at what remained in your hand, the sting of the cut on your palm finally appearing when you noticed the blood on the broken glass. “How bad is it? Am I hideous?”
“You are still a 10,” you giggled after noticing he was devastatingly handsome, even with the cut across his nose. Grabbing the hem of your dress, you gently dabbed the blood away before realising that it was a stupid idea. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”
“Rabies,” his friend joked.
“Speak for yourself, mate,” Lando shot back and while they bickered jokingly you heard your name called from the river bank. “Is that your boyfriend?”
“Are you alive?” Lennon shouted as he ran along with the boat.
“Nope, I’ve died and gone to heaven!”
“I’ll let Sarah know!” He grew smaller as he stopped running and the boat continued downstream to some unknown destination.
“That’s my best friend’s boyfriend,” you explained as you patted your bra but found your phone missing. “Can I borrow your phone? I think mine drowned.”
Lando carefully shifted you so he could get to his pocket before settling you back on his lap. The grateful smile you gave him almost made him drop the device and he had to enter his passcode in twice before he got it right.
“Where is this boat heading to?” you asked as the dial tone connected. “Hey, it’s me, calm down, I’m alive.”
“Good, I’ll kill you myself! You gave me a fucking heart attack, woman!” You had to hold the phone away from your ear as she shouted her concern.
“I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m sorry for giving you a heart attack.”
“As you should be! Len said you landed on some guy. Is he hot?”
Your face heated and you knew he had heard the question with the curious look on his face. “Mhmm, very.”
“You should invite him to the party and do a little sexy dance for him!”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I kind of…broke his face.”
The silence was damning before you swore you heard her laugh from all the way upstream. “Only you could have the worst luck with men.”
“Trust me, I know all too well. Anyway, they are stopping at the Rose Bridge so I’ll just meet you guys there. Guess my luck isn’t all that bad.”
You ended the call and handed the phone back.
“What party are you going to?” Lando asked as he pocketed it again.
“I don’t know, it’s some house party. There’s a local DJ playing.”
Lando’s smile grew and he pointed to his friend. “Local DJ, ha!”
As it turned out the house party wasn’t actually a party at someone’s house and the DJ wasn’t just locally renowned. Once you were finally introduced to Lando’s friend you found out he was the DJ, Martin Garrix, and Lando was even more famous.
“I can’t afford a lawsuit,” you groaned when you realised you had practically assaulted a celebrity.
“It’s just a scratch,” Lando assured you after Martin found a first aid kick. His poor attempt at wrapping a bandage made Lando look like a mummy so you took the box yourself and found a couple of small butterfly stitches. “Nothing a kiss wouldn’t fix.”
You giggled at his flirty nature you had come to adore in the last hour and if you hadn’t drunk so much liquid courage at the bar you probably wouldn't have been able to lean closer and kiss his cheek. His skin was warm and soft beneath your lips and when you opened your eyes you found his blue eyes staring intently back. “Better?”
He shook his head. “Nope, I think it needs another try.”
“Hmmm, good idea.” You kissed his other cheek and grinned when he pouted. “No? One last try.”
Your fingers delighted in the feel of his soft hair as you combed the curls and dipped your head to his. Your heart rate spiked and you closed your eyes as you kissed his pillow-soft lips teasingly slowly before his hands cupped your face and he deepened the kiss.
You broke away with a small gasp and your eyes were wide with the want for more. It was a look reflected on Lando’s face as he gently stroked your heated cheeks.
“Hey, lovebirds! We’re here,” Martin called as the boat reached the canal edge.
You kicked off your broken heels and Lando frowned before he gave you his, looping his fingers into the straps of your shoes to carry them. You were already wearing his shirt since your dress had his blood on it and you were certain you looked at absolute mess.
“Ready to party, Angel?”
“Angel?”
“What else would I call a beautiful woman who fell from the heavens?” Lando wondered if he was making a mistake and moving to fast like he always did but it was too late, the question was already out there.
“You could call me your girlfriend.” You cringed in an instant. “I mean not tonight, that would be way too quick but-”
Lando cut you off with a kiss and you felt his smile against your lips before he asked, “How about tomorrow?”
#Spotify#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic#f1 x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
slightly parallel universe where tumblr allows alphabets from other languages to be used in peoples urls, so 2012 bloggers used katakana phonetically to shorten their ridiculously long fandom urls that contained every single ship theyve ever loved so that the whole goddamn thing could actually fit onscreen. a few users started using khmer and sinhala and other alphabets that are hard for monolingual english speakers to parse solely so it would be difficult for most tumblr users to @ them and/or track them down to block. this lead to discourse blogs demanding that people post selfies to "prove" that they arent using arabic for "nefarious purposes" and saying blatantly racist shit like "i block people using sanskrit on sight" or "can you claim ancestral reasons for using ge'ez?". someone gets called out for race-faking because they use chinese but their icon is a white woman, who turns out to just be a fictional character that they like, and they actually are chinese. several prominent and terminally online leftist blogs make bizarre claims about how using alphabets they dont know is basically the exact same thing as paywalls on academic articles because its "hiding information from people who cant afford college". it all culminates in staff making a meme that reeks of "how do you do fellow kids" vibes about how only cyberbullies use bangla, which is widely condemned by literally everyone as being racist as hell, and any further alphabet discourse from then on is shot down hard by merely posting tumblrstaffbangla.jpeg
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
For headcanon monday, I have this one in my head that when Azriel finds his mate she’s going to be so SMALL in comparison to him, like just so short and little standing next to this big Illyrian warrior - but Azriel LOVES it, finding any excuse to pick her up/carry/generally hold her, constantly teasing her about her size, and omg how *protective* he is over her not only because she’s his mate but because of her size, and she is just a ball of feisty energy that clearly has no fear of a n y t h i n g
STOP THIS IS SO CUTE OMG
Azriel With a Short Mate:
Azriel was already certain he didn't have a mate. He asked the Mother every night for years when it was his turn, when he would join his brothers, but when they went unanswered, he finally turned away from the childish dreams.
So, color him floored when he catches sight of you, his chest tightening with something he was too scared to think of.
You were arguing with someone right outside of Rita's; your small stature was immediately noticeable compared to the tall man you were fighting with.
He felt a surge of protectiveness overcome his senses, his shadows already reaching out to you before the guy not so gently pushed you.
Everything seemed to slow as he stepped forward, fists already curled, until he saw your own fist raise and collide with the man's jaw.
His eyebrows raised in surprise, stepping to the side as the man stumbled back and fell to the ground.
Your breathing was ragged as you shook your hand, curling and uncurling your fingers as you finally looked up at him.
And everything clicked into place.
The two of you grew closer quickly and, within months, already moving in together.
In that time, you realized Az LOVED your height. You had opened up about it one night as being an insecurity.
He listened and then held you close, able to completely cocoon you in his wings as he stroked your hair and whispered to you how beautiful you are.
"You're perfect, Y/N. Look how well we fit together."
He might also say this during sex but that's a whole other post.
He loves to hold you when he takes you flying, enjoying the way you can bury your head into his neck when he swoops down suddenly.
He carries you whenever you have too much to drink, when you're too tired to make it to bed, when you're sick, really just any time he can. It's his favorite thing.
He makes sure to match his stride whenever you two are walking, holding your hand and gazing down at you with the most adoring eyes.
Everyone teases you about your height difference, especially the IC, but Azriel makes you feel so secure that you no longer mind.
Even Az teases you sometimes, leaning his arm on your head or holding this where you can't reach when you're being a little bit of a brat.
The best thing about your height though is how protective he is of you.
You can hold your own in a fight, everyone knows that, but Azriel is so quick to rush to your defense. He'll stand in front of you, basically hiding you from how much taller he is as his wings flare and his shadows whisper against your ear not to be afraid.
You are his life. His heart. You are too precious to lose.
And, despite his protests, you protect him just as fiercely.
You basically have scary dog privilege. And you love it.
#acotar#acotar headcanon#acomaf#acowar#acofas#acosf#azriel#azriel headcanon#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#azriel x reader acotar#acotar reader#acotar reader headcanon
448 notes
·
View notes
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/goldenboygate/748927575652515840?source=share
How about a blurb of happy tipsy/drunk Lando and reader on the boat and he's extra clingy and saying sweet funny things? Bonus points if she's caring for his bloody nose and he's looking at her with the gloomy sparkly eyes (we have all seen the pictures 👀🫣)
Note: the more content I see from this day, the more I think this is going in the books 😅
Cw: mentions a cut, blood, alcohol consumption
"Fill mine, please!", Lando asked one of the guys as he filled his own cup with some orange drink right on theme for the day.
When you said you'd join the celebrations for King's Day, Lando and Martin were the most excited for it and promised you one hell of a party indeed.
"Show me how you dance with your pretty hips! Baby, are my moves as good as yours?", Lando said as he swayed his hips from side to side, his knees helping him bounce slightly as he waved the cup around. The sunglasses didn't cover his blushed cheeks and big smile, but you were sure they were hiding your favourite pair of eyes, now probably squinty and glassy as he sang loudly.
"Yes, Lan, they're good", you shook your head as you laughed, letting him pull you closer to him so he could dance with you.
"My chest is full of love for you, baby", Lando whispered on your ear before he nipped at the skin there.
"We're out, Lando, there's other people here", you gasped even though you were enjoying his touches a little too much. Drunk Lando often meant an even clingier boyfriend.
"I don't care, I'm full of love for you - I love you!", he stated kissing your lips and everywhere on your face he could.
You turned around for a couple of minutes, approaching the edge so you could get a little bit of air and look at how everyone else was celebrating the day until you heard a gasp followed by Martin calling your name.
"What?", you asked before seeing Lando and his bloody nose, "Oh my word", you whispered as you approached him.
"We clicked the glasses and then this happened", Martin explained as you took a good look at the injury.
Even though it seemed like a little nick on the skin from the glass, it was bleeding a good amount, "Here's the first aid kit", someone said as they handed it to you.
"Does it hurt a lot, love?", you asked Lando as you rummaged through the bag to figure out what you had and what you could do with it.
"It's okay", he mumbled.
"Hold this, Lando, I need to find something to disinfect- we're in a boat full of alcohol drinks but medical grade stuff would be better I guess", you mumbled the last part, trying to read the label of the bottle and smelling them.
Once you look up after finding the rubbing alcohol and some cotton buds and pads, you see the gauze wrapped around his head, "like this, right, lovie?", Lando smiled, a genuine tinge of hope in his voice at helping you help him.
"Not quite", you laughed. You felt bad for doing so while he was clearly hurt despite not hearing many complaints from him.
"Let me put some steri strips - stay still, Lan, I need to see this upclose", you stated after cleaning the cut, applying the strips in a cross since you could see the skin was pulling both ways.
"Did you do it like an X? I felt that", Lando spoke, "X marks the spot for the treasure, doesn't it? I'm your treasure!", he cheered, "Taylor Swift says that it marks the spot where we fell apart, but we never fall apart baby, we're forever".
"You are, Lan, my biggest treasure", you smiled, "can you stay still for a bit longer though, please?", you asked gently still.
Lando complied with your request, staying still as you did your best to make sure the dressing was helping or at least not making the situation worse, "Is this your way of telling me you want me to get a rhinoplasty? Funny, it has rhino in it", he giggled before he attempted to make an elephant noise.
"No, baby, I love your nose just the way it is", you smiled, kissing the tip of his nose when you were happy with the improvised wound dressing, "there, all done! You even get a magic kiss for it to heal faster!".
"You're so pretty, you're really my girlfriend? Ah! Would you look at that, Martin? She's my girlfriend - I'm one lucky dude", Lando beamed at his friend before he kissed your lips, letting you sit on the edge of the boat, "you can sit there, baby, it's got railing to protect you from falling in the water - it's looks mucky", he made a disgusted face.
You sat there, glad to be able to experience these moments with your boyfriend and seeing his so carefree and happy. His PR team would maybe have to do some cleaning up, but at the end of the day, he was a happy young man enjoying his time off and he had the right to enjoy it.
"She is my girlfriend - Look, Y/N! Someone is recording us, say hi, my love!", he yelled, getting you to wave at a girl filming on another boat, "isn't she pretty? And she fixed my nose too!".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
483 notes
·
View notes
Text
don't say nothing | S.R.
gemini part two
who? spencer reid x fem!reader
category: smut (18+ mdni)
content warnings: softdom!spencer, "good girl" (you can tear it out of my cold dead hands), alcohol, fwb, oral fixation, consent, idiots in love, praise kink, gun violence, jealous spencer? unprotected pinv sex,
word count: 3.73k
a/n: posting smut twice in a row who the fuck am i?? anyways, everyone's favorite idiots in love are back. i used the song don't say nothing by del water gap to provide me with inspiration.
part one
please say something, cause I've been growing lonesomer each day
Penelope threw her arms up in frustration as you walked through the front door of O’Keefe’s, “I was beginning to think you were ditching us.” She got up from the booth, letting you slide in so that you were next to the wall – across the table from Spencer.
Things with him were as awkward as ever. The two of you were like a rubber band getting stretched, every time the tension became too much, you snapped and ended up in bed together - or in the academy showers, but that was just the one time. Looking at him now, the rubber band felt taut.
“I took the liberty of getting you this,” Garcia announced, a broad smile on her face as she pushed the glass toward you.
Raising your eyebrows, you eyed the beverage suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. An undetermined liquor slid down your throat as you tried to hide the distaste from your expression. Penelope had a taste for sweet, sugary drinks, it was the main reason she usually ended up puking first at girls’ night.
Spencer noted the look on your face, discreetly sliding his glass of water toward you. Thank you, you mouthed to him, earning a slight smile in return. “So, where’s this friend of a friend that you’re trying to set Y/N up with?” Luke asked, standing at the open end of the table.
In your periphery, you saw the smile immediately drop off Spencer’s face. Feeling his eyes on you, you shifted on the supple leather of the booth and looked over at Penelope.
“He said he’d show up later,” she said, lifting her own glass to her lips and sipping out of the straw.
That was enough for you to know that it would never work between the two of you. You needed someone who was punctual. Someone who wouldn’t ghost you at the last moment. Huffing, you sat back in the seat, wondering how long you’d have to stay out before it was socially acceptable to go home.
You took about thirty minutes before asking your teammates to let you out of the booth under the guise of needing fresh air. Luke asked if you wanted to move out to the patio, but you waved him off before walking out the front door.
The spring air kissed your skin as you avoided pedestrians until you made it to the outer wall of the bar, leaning against the cool bricks and sighing.
“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, walking out of the bar, and approaching you.
Avoiding eye contact, you watched people’s shoes as they walked by – heels, sneakers, sandals. “I’m fine, Spence,” you answered simply as your heart begged you to meet his hazel eyes.
You closed your eyes as he reached out, gingerly placing his hand flat on your ribcage. “You had a close call last week,” he said matter-of-factly, referring to a shot you had taken to the chest while on a case last week.
Shrugging, you opened your eyes again, “I was wearing my vest, barely even hurts anymore.” Spencer had been on sabbatical at the time, but he still came to visit you during your overnight stay in the hospital. You were left with a gnarly bruise to the ribs, and Emily had benched you for two weeks.
Tired of your refusal to meet his eyes, Spencer hooked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you could make out the gold of his eyes. He looked through the window of the bar, checking for something before he tugged you further from the glass. You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was looking for before his lips were on yours in the alleyway.
Spencer Reid had a habit of kissing you like you were a last meal, with open, messy kisses that made your lovelorn chest ache.
“Garcia’s friend didn’t show up?” He asked, pulling away from you just enough to get the words out.
Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and threaded your fingers through his hair, “Nope.” You cocked your head to the side as the two of you fell into your familiar pattern, “I’m glad I didn’t agree to the date. Could’ve been a fatal blow to my self-esteem,” you told him while thinking of a good way to navigate your current situation.
He also had a habit of making your mind go blank when his lips were on you, and you almost lost it when he groaned against your mouth, “His loss.”
Your breath hitched when he used his knee to part your legs, placing an agonizing pressure on your sex as you resisted the urge to grind on his thigh.
“Hey, Y/N?” He murmured in your ear before pressing gentle kisses on the side of your throat.
Humming, you bit your lip, “Yeah?”
Detaching his lips from the soft skin of your neck, Spencer pulled away to look at you, “Thank you for not agreeing to the date.”
Your body slouched against the wall, “I can’t do this again,” you confessed. The words slipped out of your mouth too easily for it to be a lie, even if you never meant for them to come out.
Spencer took a step back, removing himself from you entirely, “What do you mean?” He asked, watching as you frantically smoothed down the front of your dress and caught your breath.
“Why do I keep doing this to myself?” You muttered helplessly, once again averting your eyes from the man standing in front of you. Taking a shaky breath, your heart pounded so violently in your chest that you thought it might burst.
Catching out at you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your waist before you could walk away from him. “Baby, what are you talking about?” He asked you urgently.
There it was again, baby. It was like a key in a lock, causing everything to pour out of you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Isn’t that funny? You’re there, haunting my every move, and none of me occupies even a fragment of your mind.”
Recognition flashed in his eyes as he processed what you were saying to him, “It’s me?” He said, hazel eyes flickering over your face.
“Of course, it’s you, Spencer,” you said exasperatedly, afraid of years of longing coming out in a random alleyway in the district. Tears pricked at your eyes as you silently pleaded for him to say something.
Bewilderment was pasted on his face as he opened his mouth to speak, shut it, and then opened it again. “The person. Your one person that you’d say yes to. I’m your one.” He clarified, trying to get a hold on the situation.
Nodding miserably, you reached up and placed your hand over your heart as if you could staunch your bleeding heart, “You’re my one, and every time we’re together, you’re thinking about someone else.” It wasn’t an accusation; you knew he had feelings for someone else. He had told you just as much at Dave and Krystall’s wedding. Two months ago. Wiping underneath your eyes, you gathered whatever was left of your dignity and walked away from the situation.
As you walked back to your car, you were vaguely aware of people staring at you. You knew that you had played just as big of a role in your own destruction as Spencer had, maybe even more. You never should’ve had sex at the wedding, but you had sought comfort in one another.
Fishing around in your purse, you pulled your keys out, only for them to be scooped from your hands. “Hey!” You shouted in frustration, gaining the attention of passersby as they wondered whether or not they needed to call 911 or stay out of a lover’s quarrel. Shooting daggers at Spencer, you refrained from stomping your foot in frustration lest you look like a petulant child. “Give me my keys, Spencer,” you insisted, holding your hand out impatiently.
“Not until you talk to me,” he responded. He was out of breath, meaning he had run to catch up with you – a feat in and of itself.
You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “There’s nothing left to talk about, Spencer.”
He took a moment to catch his breath before looking around, “There is everything to talk about. I have to talk to you.”
Weighing your options, you reached out for your car keys, which he let you take, and unlocked the car. “Get in,” you offered halfheartedly, wiping your cheeks before getting into the driver’s seat.
Silently, you started the drive, taking a right onto the next street. “This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Spencer observed anxiously.
You shook your head as you turned on your turn signal to merge onto the highway, “No, it’s the way to yours.”
Residences had been off-limits during your illicit affair, but each member of the BAU had the ability to get to each other’s homes. It was more of a safety concern than anything else. Since you’d never been to Spencer’s apartment before, you needed him to guide you through the lobby and up the stairs. To your chagrin, he did that by taking your hand in his and having you follow him.
Looking around once he unlocked the door, the first thing you noticed was that the space was so… Spencer. From the green walls to the stained-glass window to the piles of books, it all just seemed so fitting for him. “Sit,” he said with an authoritative tone as he made his way back to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water.
“What do you want to say, Reid?” You said, leaning back in an armchair as you looked over at him, taking calculated breaths.
Disappointment filled his eyes, “Don’t call me that.” There was something in his eyes that resembled fear, but you couldn’t quite place the reason.
Narrowing your gaze, you tilted your head to the side and feigned ignorance, “Everyone calls you that.” You challenged, even though you supposed it wasn’t true.
“You don’t,” he responded simply. It was true, over the years you had never called him Reid. Dr. Reid and Spencer Reid, yes, but never just Reid. To you, he had always been Spencer or Spence. “When you do it, it feels so… impersonal. Detached.”
You blinked, not expecting him to have said that. Your relationship with Reid had always been personal. From back when you were just friends to whatever miscellany of emotions you had now. “I didn’t mean for it to be,” you admitted defeatedly, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. Although maybe you had intended to detach yourself from the situation by referring to him with a name that felt less personal.
In your periphery, you saw him looking dejectedly at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Will you please look at me?”
Swallowing thickly, you closed your eyes, “I can’t.” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you admitted the truth, one look in his eyes, and you’d break your heart even worse.
“At first, I thought it was easier for me to just say I was interested in someone else because I was under the impression that you were interested in another man,” Spencer told you candidly. “My idea was that I could keep you close to me until you felt ready to move on, and that would just have to be enough.”
Staring blankly ahead of you, you reached out to grab your water from the coffee table, taking small sips as you struggled to digest what he was saying to you.
You shut your eyes tightly at the vulnerability in the room, opening them to find Spencer knelt in front of you. “What I didn’t realize was that a fraction of you would never be enough, not for me.”
Burying your face in your hands, you avoided his eyes as the gravity of his admission weighed down your shoulders. “Spence,” you begged. He needed to stop. He was toeing the point of no return.
“I am so devastatingly in love with you,” he admitted. “I didn’t know how deeply it ran until the wedding, but I just couldn’t get myself to let you go.”
Spencer pried your hands off of your face, revealing teary eyes. You let your body slide off the chair until you knelt in front of him, knee to knee. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.
Quickly, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body flush against his, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you answered, surprised at how easily the words rolled off of your tongue. Taking your time, you slung one arm over his shoulder, reaching the other up so you could put your hand in his hair. You relished in his groan as you tugged lightly at the strands.
You couldn’t help the whine that passed through your lips as he pulled away from you. He got to his feet before helping you up, and once you were standing, his lips were back on yours.
Leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom, you felt your blood heat up as he pushed your cardigan off of your shoulders. As you reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, you grinned against his lips.
Sat on the edge of his bed, you parted your knees and pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants before fumbling with his belt buckle. Disconnecting your lips so that you could look at what you were doing, he took the opportunity to duck his head and take your earlobe between his teeth. As he nipped at the soft skin, goosebumps spread where you were bare, leaving you in need of more. More of him.
Once you got his belt undone, you made quick work of the button and zipper on his slacks, sliding them down over his hips and ass while his hands made their way up your dress. “Spence,” you said breathlessly, trying to push his pants further down. Understanding your plea, he stepped out of them entirely, kicking them to the side.
Spencer drew away from you just enough to tug your dress off of your body, tossing it off to the side and gently guiding you so that your back was flat against the mattress. You watched in anticipation as he pulled his t-shirt off, the movement allowing for the tip of his cock to peek over the elastic of his boxers. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered, the softness of the words taking you by surprise, “Always so pretty for me, baby.” He gently traced his finger over your bruise as a shadow of worry crossed his features, but it was gone as quickly as it showed up.
His words spurred you on to pull at his underwear, trying to take them off, but you simply didn’t have the arm span to do it on your own. “I wanna touch you,” you confessed, “Can I touch you?”
“I need to be in you,” Spencer answered, pulling his boxers off before kneeling in front of you, eyes widening when your legs fell open. Expertly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your underwear, dragging them off in one swift motion and leaving the both of you completely bare.
Your mouth parted when his hand reached your wet heat and two fingers entered you tantalizingly slowly. “I thought- ah- no touching,” you complained. It was a halfhearted complaint because really, there was nothing to be bothered by.
Reaching down, your hand grabbed his wrist, trying to slow his ministrations. “You’re so responsive for me,” he murmured, continuing to move his fingers in and out of you and watching in fascination as your hips bucked off of the mattress involuntarily.
“Fuck,” You said, screwing your eyes shut as that all too familiar knot started to form in your lower belly. “Spence, baby- I’ll…” A low whine escaped your throat as he withdrew his fingers from your core. “Spencer,” you said in frustration, opening your eyes to see him inspecting your slick that had been left on his fingers.
Like a rehearsed routine, he placed his hand in front of your face, prompting you to incline your head forward and wrap your lips around his index and middle finger. As you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he watched you with an undying interest. “Good girl,” he muttered, the praise causing your sensitive cunt to clench around nothing.
Taking his hand back, you looked down as he used his now free hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Laying one of your hands at the side of your head, he used his other hand to intertwine your fingers before he pushed into you. Instead of tossing your head back like you normally would, you looked up at him, watching as he hilted himself in you. “Spencer,” you whispered.
“Are you alright?” He asked, checking in with you as he placed his free hand on the other side of your head.
You nodded quickly, “It just feels different this time.” Your heart clenched at your own admission. You weren’t using each other as an escape anymore.
Spencer hummed in understanding, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”
Your breath hitched as he tentatively thrust in you like he was testing the waters. “I love you,” you responded in kind, your voice higher than usual.
The response was enough encouragement for Spencer to keep going, he tucked his face in the crook of your neck, gently biting the skin as he set the pace. Small gasps escaped your throat every time his hips met yours.
As usual, your sounds spurred him on, seemingly trying to make you as vocal as possible, he used one hand to reach up and grope your breast. While his fingers pinched at your nipple, you wrapped your legs around his torso, locking your ankles together behind him. He lifted his head, moving his lips against yours in hurried, messy kisses that only aided the knot building in your stomach.
You didn’t have the capacity to warn him before you came undone beneath him, your orgasm coming over you as you whined into his mouth. Your walls clenched around him so tightly that Spencer had a hard time keeping his pace before it became too much.
Sighing contentedly as he filled you, you ran your hands down his back as he continued working through both of your orgasms. You whimpered as he continued fucking his cum into your oversensitive hole until your head went fuzzy, “Spence.”
He stuttered to a stop, staying inside of you for just a beat under he pulled out, causing you to flinch as you were left empty. “Are you alright?” He asked, still breathing heavily – not that you were faring much better.
Nodding, you blinked rapidly as your lungs tried to catch up with the rest of you, “I’m perfect,” you answered dazedly.
Spencer smiled at you, “You are. Perfect, that is.” He sat next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your bare hip, affectionately dragging his fingers over the skin. “You need to go pee,” he said suddenly, furrowing his brows at you.
You couldn’t help it as you erupted in a fit of giggles, resulting in an adorably confused look from Spencer. “Sorry, it’s just you telling me that I need to go pee – it’s funny,” you told him, biting your lip to muffle your laugh.
“Have you not been peeing after sex?” He was clearly appalled as if the idea of you not peeing after sex was abhorrent to him.
Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself up on your elbows, “Of course, I pee after sex, Dr. Reid,” you put extra emphasis on his honorific. “And I will pee just as soon as I’m sure my legs aren’t going to give out of me when I stand up,” you explained to him, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee.
He looked at you seriously, “You know, there are some studies that say the sooner after sex you urinate the less likely you are to contract a UTI.”
“Oh my god,” you said, “Don’t say the word urinate at me while I’m naked in your bed.” You complained, clambering up and making sure you were steady before you walked to the ensuite.
Later on, you were laying in bed next to Spencer, your head was resting on his chest while he kept you tucked into his side. You flinched as a phone started ringing, you sat up and looked around for your phone. Please don’t be a case, you silently hoped as you searched the sheets for your phone.
Once you finally grabbed it, you saw Penelope’s contact flashing across the screen. Swiping the screen, you put the phone up to your ear, hearing loud music on the other end of the call. “Hey, Penny,” you said, smiling as Spencer reached out and pulled you back into him.
You adjusted your t-shirt over your skin, having made Spencer go out to your car for your go-bag so that you could have clean clothes to sleep in. He slipped his hand under the cotton of your shirt, placing his hand flat on your bare skin. You tried to greet Penelope again when she doesn’t respond.
“Hey!” Her voice chimed in through the speaker, “Where’d you go? Jason just got here!”
Frowning, you pulled your phone away and looked at the time – just past eleven o’clock. You sighed, letting your body meld into Spencer’s, “Tell him that someday he’ll find a girl with equally as atrocious time management skills as him.”
You heard some rambling on the other side of the call, and wondered how many members of the BAU made it out this late. “Okay, but where are you?”
Humming, you peered up at Spencer who had, unsurprisingly, pulled out a book to read before bed. “I’m right where I need to be,” you told her earnestly, wondering if she could hear your voice's smile as Spencer kissed your forehead softly.
tagged, if you asked for a part two: @donttrustlove @jumpingjackalope @bippityboppityboob1tch @makingbloodbaths1 @sammyreidslut
@evvy96 @mus3y @nnab @basicallynotbreathing @hell0kitty11
@tatilolz @radioactiveinvisible @lamentis-10 @k-corbett @discotitsposts
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds smut#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds oneshot#written by margot#mdni#margot after hours#softdom!spencer#criminal minds angst#spencer reid angst
428 notes
·
View notes
Text
Our second DCXDP au has Danny hiding in Gotham with the cores of Dani, Dan and two other clones who survived. They need DNA to be able to reform but it's in a ‘it doesn't have to be now’ kind of way. Not just Danny’s DNA but another to to balance out their genes.
They'll become babies and be raised up. Dani was melting but forced Danny to promise he wouldn't find someone right away he'd take his time to fall in love first. Dan did the same and the twin clones did to.
Danny decides it's a good idea but keeps the cores safe. He ran to Gotham in the DC universe because the GIW were to close to killing him. His parents, Jazz, Sam, Grandma Ida and the Foleys all followed. Grandma Ida is running some gang down in crime alley having a blast with Sam, constantly trying to hook Sam up with Jason who Ida is in a turf war with. Tucker is happily running a tech company that will soon outstrip it's competitors., his parents helping Jazz is terrifying in Arkham as she tears our corruption.
Maddie abd Jack found out about the Leauge of Assassins and went: study time. Danny, knowing its corrupted ecto and also not wanting to deal with assassins lets then have fun. So Ra’s is dealing with liminal mad scientists who keep stealing the Pits and also have uncovered two Damian clones they kidnapped. Their kids now.
But we’re focusing on Danny who is in college and living a peaceful life which is what he wants most of all. The cores of his kids are always on him just in case and he's casually dating. It's great. He can just be Danny the guy who is super into space and plans on being a mechanic for the watch tower.
Then one day Two-Face attacks the cafe he's at (because of a sale it was having where it was two for one on some sort of new treat). Danny has to run for his life. He gets hit and the bag he has the cores in is harmed. One falls out and he freaks, diving for it. He grabs it just as Black Bat swoops in to save him. She flies him up to a roof.
They land and then she moves to grab one of the cores that fell out. Danny gets antsy but it requires skin contact so it should be okay, she's wearing gloves after all. It'll be fine!
On her part, Cass is wondering why her hand feels tingly but there isn't anything malicious in the mans face so she thinks it might just be the orb she caught being weird. She swings off, noting that she has a hole in her glove.
Danny goes home and doesn't think about it until he realizes that the core the hero touched is growing. And it's getting sick without the touch of its other parent.
Cass on the other hand feels strange. Like she's pulled somewhere. She instantly thinks of the guy and alerts the others to him. They hunt him down to find him on a rooftop. He's surprised to see them, holding an Orb that’s glowing.
“I thought it would take longer…” the man says. He shakes his head. “Umm… rip the band-aids off- I'm nottotslly human.”
The Batfam kinda pauses cause he's giving this info up for free. Cass is eyeing him closely. It's just her, Batman and Robin in front of the man. Everyone else is listening in or in the shadows.
“I ran away from my home dimension cause they were hunting me down to kill me because they believed I was non-sentient. You know sad trench- I mean, John Constantine? I think he put in the word we’re friendly,” the man babbles. The orb shines. “Okay, okay. I need to… Black Bat did your glove have a hole in it when you touched this?”
Cass hums but nods. Barbara has Constantine on the line (and no one wants to know the blckmail she has to make him answer) and he's confirming it's a friendly.
“Okay, okay… this is a Core and it's the heart, soul, brain, everything of an ecto-entity like me. And it… it’s my child. But it needed a second set of DNA. It's fine dormant, it doesn't hurt the baby. But it…” the man swallows. “Skin touch.”
Cass knows in a second what he's leading up to. She touched the orb. It needed DNA.
That's her baby in his hands.
Que the chaos.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#Cass and Danny get together#she spends a lot of time with him for the baby’s health#also it's Dan#slow burn time#Bruce is blue screening cause his daughter is having a baby#the bets did not account for Cass who is ace as fuck#Alfred even lost#Fenton parents roll in with their clone sons talking about stealing them#Bruce has a headache
431 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello I'm literally obsessed with how you write jason todd and how you invision him I binged your jason todd list and it's so good. I was wondering if you could write one where he has like a bubbly golden retriever girl who is obsessed with him and would leave any conversation to just go to him
First of all, you’re a literal sweetheart omg! Thank you so much for reading, I’m so glad you like my work! And second, I am so so so sorry for how late this is!!
This idea is so cute, Jason totally deserves a cute and bubbly gf!! This is a little bit long, but I hope you like it!!
Jason had once again invited you to another one of Bruce’s galas as his date. Formal events were never your scene, but you couldn’t say no to Jason, especially when he’d ask so politely.
He’d stare at your face lovingly with his big doe eyes. His calloused hands would cup your face gently as his thumbs delicately grazed your cheeks. His bitten lips would turn into a small smile and you couldn’t bear to say no to his pretty face. That’s how the story always went, he’d stare at you innocently and you’d always agree to attend.
Jason hated attending galas, but he hated going to them alone even more. Hence why he brought you, he wanted you there for moral support.
He always tried his best to be gentleman when it came to these types of events. His eyes never leaving you for a second.
A few years ago he made up a code for when you’d attend formal events together. You still remember the look he gave you when he explained the “rules.”
His gaze was gentle and his hands were laced with your own. He spoke in a soft, hushed voice, “okay pretty girl, listen up. One squeeze, means you’re done with the conversation. Two is for when you’re ready to leave. Got it?”
You almost never had to use the code though, somehow Jason always knew when it was time to head out.
Galas and formal events were always so consuming, exhausting almost. The politics and business were far too confusing. You never found yourself wanting to engage with most people as it felt awkward to initiate conversations sometimes.
You’d spent most of the evening stuck to Jason’s side with his hands firmly on your waist or tangled between your fingers.
However, despite your views of the galas, you were a star. Men and women alike frolicked around you, like bees to a flower. You were always a source of wonderment— polite, kind and beautiful.
You always greeted everyone with a soft, welcoming smile. You were bubbly and made an effort to look engaged in conversations when people approached you. Whenever you’d do this, Jason couldn’t help but smile to himself. It wasn’t your element, but here you were immersing yourself into these empty conversations for him.
This particular gala felt similar to most of Bruce’s events. Noisey chatter and expensive gowns engulfing the room.
You were starting to feel tired and Jason was starting to feel antsy too. But he was cornered by three men in matching black suits and it was too awkward to leave. You and Jason rarely got separated at such places, but it had seemed to be just one of those nights. You took a seat at the nearest table, as the pair of stilettos on your feet were starting to cause an uncomfortable ache.
You stared into the crowd, a smile small on your face when you’d accidentally make eye contact with someone. You were in your own head, paying no mind to your surroundings when a tall man walked over to you.
“May I sit here,” he said, pointing to the seat next to you. You nodded your head with a polite smile.
Minutes go by and you notice the man trying to gather the courage to speak to you, but it seemed that every time he tried, he got nervous. You tried to ignore his behaviour and found yourself looking around the room for Jason. He still seemed to be preoccupied with the men.
Jason’s jade eyes met your gaze from across the room and his stern expression slowly morphed into a small smirk, making the scar near his lip more pronounced.
He nodded along with the men, but his attention was on you. He stood up taller, trying to fix his posture. He ran a hand through his styled hair, making it just the right amount of messy. He looked good in his navy suit and your eyes raked his body. He looked pretty today and he knew it too.
A voice brings you back to reality and you look over into the direction of the sound. It was the man from earlier.
“Pardon,” you asked softly and the man smiled.
“Oh, I was just saying that it’s quite lively here tonight,” he said fixing his tie anxiously.
“It really is, it’s very loud tonight” you kept your answer short. The man looks up at you, his eyes fixed on your lips.
“So I was wondering-” the man’s words don’t seem to register, you’re too busy looking at Jason. He was done with his conversation and was making his way over to you. You quickly get up in excitement.
The man still seemed to be talking and you find yourself interrupting him.
“I’m so sorry but my boyfriend-” and Jason pulls you in by the waist, paying no attention to the man.
“Hey pretty girl, I’m sorry I took so long,” he says. His voice low and sympathetic. You grin in response, happy to see your boyfriend again.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, “let’s go home Jay. I’m so tired and my feet hurt,” you confess, pouting.
Jason smiles gently. You look beautiful to him. He takes a strand of your hair and tucks it behind your ear and you can feel your face getting hot. Even after years of being together, Jason still had this effect on you.
“Let’s go, want me to carry you,” Jason giggles and you smack his chest playfully.
“I’m fine, let’s just leave,” he intertwines your fingers in his and leads you out the door.
The man’s face looks stunned, he didn’t expect you to run off with your boyfriend mid conversation.
#fem!reader#jason todd#red hood#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#jason todd imagine#red hood imagine#jason todd headcanon#red hood headcanon#batfam
313 notes
·
View notes
Text
A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.7K]
THE TIMELINE
"There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember,
It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.
And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning,
I never know what to think about.
I think about you."
- About You By The 1975
V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988
Two years had passed since the last gate had closed and despite the aftermath of the “earthquakes,” Vecna had yet to make any sort of reappearance.
Max’s bones healed, eventually, and she regained most of her sight, relying on thick lensed glasses when she grew tired or the words in her books turned blurry. Nancy went to college, Jonathan tried it for a year, Hopper took El on a month-long camping trip to see something other than the town repairing itself and Lucas went to therapy.
Soon, each kid followed suit, attending sessions that eventually helped them sleep a little better because even though they couldn’t tell the person on the other side of the coffee table about monsters and the world under their feet, there had been enough death and suffering to fill the hour with regardless.
Dustin told Steve he should go too and Robin agreed. After Eddie’s funeral, the one where they all stood with Wayne, a guy from the garage Eddie worked at on weekends and the remaining Hellfire members beside a small gravestone, they had another one.
A second ceremony near the woods behind Eddie’s trailer, close to where he died, to where Dustin had found him bleeding and proud. The kids cried and Joyce held on tight to Will while Jonathan hugged Nancy and Dustin punched a tree trunk. It felt better than the first one, easier somehow, when they didn’t have to lie and hide the guilt they had at knowing each and every one of them felt a little shame in having a hand in someone’s else’s death.
But it was closure.
The town healed, roads were repaired, houses rebuilt, new flowers planted in the park in memory of those who had been lost in the accident - the natural disaster that made headlines, the one that no one could have predicted.
Steve helped Dustin clean Eddie’s grave when the spray paint covered the dead boy’s name. Robin stopped crying when she looked in the mirror each morning. Jonathan left his room.
The kids got better. They smiled more, went to the new arcade on opening day, shared slushies and rode their bikes around town again. Joyce visited Wayne when she could, took him pies and meatloaf and eventually got him out of his armchair and into a coffee shop for a full hour. Hopper got his job back, had a ceremony that preceded the funeral he had years before and Robin managed to get her and Steve a sweet gig at the record store that replaced Family Video.
It felt fresh. New. Clean.
So why was Steve still dreaming about gates?
For the third night in a row, he woke up gasping. A yell stuck in his throat that tasted like metal, like blood, and he was drenched. Shirtless, his sheets stuck to his chest, the weight of them tangled around his legs in a sickly familiar way, vines tugging at his ankles. His room was dark, the house empty, too quiet. Quiet enough that his breath ripped from his lungs in harsh pants, his head pounding from the exertion of running in his dream, back in a place that he hadn’t seen in almost twenty one months.
At first, he dreamt of death.
Of Eddie and how they found him lifeless and in Dustin’s arms. How Max was barely conscious in the attic of the Creel House, her body broken in ways that no doctor could understand. He dreamt of how he had pulled Lucas away from her, the boy sobbing and yelling, fighting with more strength than he knew he had as Steve tried to restrain him just enough for the paramedics to get Max into the ambulance.
Then the dreams turned empty. He dreamt of losing everyone, Robin, Dustin, Hop. El was gone, Will too, Mike nowhere to be found. Nancy’s house was empty, Joyce and Jonathan didn’t exist and Steve sat alone in a town that turned grey, crumbling to dust until the vines came back and the clouds turned red.
He ran miles every night, searching for his friends, his family. Woke up to shaking breaths and sore legs like he’d really sprinted across a town that was no longer home and each morning when the sun rose, he sat with a coffee and his bare legs dipped in the pool in his backyard. He stared at the water until the ripples blurred and wondered how long it would take for Barb to come haunt him too, if she’d reappear in his dreams despite the years that had gone by, if she’d come crawling back out of his pool like she used to, dripping wet and with no eyes.
But Barb never came and he stopped dreaming of the kids, stopped hearing Lucas’ screams, stopped seeing Max in a hospital bed with blood coming from her eyes and eventually, one night, he dreamt of a gate that he’d never seen before.
It didn’t even really look like a gate.
Not the ones Steve knew. It wasn’t framed by dead vines, it didn’t pulsate, it didn’t have a red glow coming from its innards. This one didn’t look like rotting flesh, like a wound in the earth that couldn’t be healed. This one wasn’t at the bottom of a lake, lined with wet moss and cracked rocks, it wasn’t in the Munson trailer nor in the middle of the woods.
This one opened on a blank wall in Steve’s bedroom, replacing the shelves where his old basketball trophies sat, where he usually left his pile of clothes before falling into bed. In the dream, it started as a crack, a crumbling of plaster and blue plaid wallpaper and Steve watched it open, a yawning thing that split the room and bathed it in light. It was too bright at first, like blinking into a summer sun. And once the white-hot of it cleared from Steve’s eyes, he saw blue skies and he could smell the ocean.
There were trees he’d never seen before in real life, something out of a movie, tall and green and narrow as they swayed in a breeze he couldn’t really feel from his spot on his bedroom carpet. The buildings were a pinky-peach colour, like clay, with orange slate tiles and there were foundations and statues carved into the walls, water trickling from the mouths of gods and vases that stone faced women held in their marble arms.
It was like looking at a painting, a canvas between his bed and his old desk, framed with olive branches and large, red fruits that protruded from the gates mouth.
Pomegranates.
Steve could smell them, a sweetness that mixed with the ocean air, a kind of freshness that you couldn’t find between the fields and farms that surrounded Hawkins. In the dream, he wanted to move closer but found that he couldn’t, his eyes wide and his bare feet rooted to the spot as he stared at the scene. It felt like a memory the more he looked, the buildings becoming familiar, a baby blue door that looked like somewhere he’d once owned the keys to and the cobbled streets became a well walked way home.
Then, as if he weren’t supposed to really see it, he spotted something move in an upstairs window. Two houses from the front of the gate, with rusted shutters and white linen curtains, he saw a girl stand between them.
A pretty girl, with eyes he knew he’d seen before, in a white dress that he was sure he remembered the feeling of.
The sight of her made Steve’s heart hammer, the dream making him dizzy, the realisation that he knew that girl making the line between unconsciousness and reality a little blurry. He didn’t know her name, or where he knew her from. He didn’t even know where he was looking or why the gate was there.
But he stared and stared until the girls eyes met his and before he could lift his hand, or even try to speak, there was a crack that seemingly came from the sky - the one above Hawkins or the one inside the gate, he didn’t know - but something flashed, the gate went dark and the rip in his bedroom wall stitched itself back up.
He woke up feeling like he’d remembered and forgotten something all at once. Like a book he’d read back in middle school, a photo he’d once misplaced, a song he hadn’t heard in years but still remebered some of the words too.
He knew her. He knew her.
Steve thought about the girl so much, so often, that it didn’t take him long to think of her, to refer to her, as you. You were someone he’d once known, from a memory or another dream, he wasn't sure. It was the same feeling as watching a movie and seeing a pretty actress on screen, in a different outfit with different hair but knowing her face and wondering what show he’d seen her in before.
Except with this, there was an aching want that buried itself in his chest at the sight of you, an awful feeling that grew larger each night. And every time his wall cracked open again, it seemed like his ribs did too. A crushing feeling, a yawning expanse inside his body that made room for the way his heart seemed to grow and grow at the sight of you.
Yearning, that’s what he thought it was. A slow, burning build of it.
The second night, he dreamt of you in a garden. A sprawling, green lawn with a pond so green-blue it made his eyes hurt. There was an awning beside it, a pergola of sorts made of white stone and it had ivy growing between the pillars, covering the roof and reaching down to trail its flowers in the water below. You were closer than before, than you were in the window, and Steve could see the way your lashes hit your cheeks as you looked down, stitching something that you held in your lap.
There was a wicker basket beside you, a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a cloth and he could still smell pomegranates, sweet and tart. There was a space beside you on the blanket, enough room for two but no one else came.
You were always alone.
Steve tried to talk to you, to reach out and see if this gate worked like the others, if he could walk through into this other world, this other dimension, but it didn’t work.
Not yet, anyway.
You seemed to notice him more on the fifth night, as he watched you walk along the edge of a lake. Your hair was shorter now and your clothes had changed. They look more modern, more like his, the cabins behind you reminiscent of a summer camp, a holiday lodge or something. He could hear music, a song he swore he heard on the radio not too long ago and that night, you watched him back.
It seemed like you were waiting for someone. And when Steve saw your face light up with a smile, his heart stumbled. You raised your arm, reaching out a hand to the edge of the gate, off to the side as if someone else was in Steve’s walls. He saw another hand reach for yours, larger, definitely male, with a freckle where the thumb joined the palm.
The jealousy he felt was unmatched, a burning thing that scorched his chest and his throat, hot needles at the back of his mouth. Before the man came into view, the crack in his wall trembled and the gate stitched itself closed once more, leaving plaster dust and flakes of paint on his carpet.
Apart from the small mess, no one would have ever guessed another world opened up inside of Steve Harrington’s bedroom each night.
It took him a week and half to notice his hand had a freckle in the same spot. A small beauty mark he’d never really paid attention to before, painted in the space that joined his thumb to his hand. He tried not to read too much into it, tried not to hold onto the hope that maybe it meant something - because none of this made sense, not really.
They were just dreams. Strange things, brain scrambling things. But it was a welcome reprieve from death and darkness and vines that held onto him too tight. He no longer woke up in a cold sweat, he no longer wished for morning to come, no matter how tired he felt when he opened his eyes.
Steve wondered if anyone else was experiencing these kinds of dreams. If the rest of the party were getting glimpses of other worlds, other timelines. He wasn’t sure what they were, too scared to ask, too afraid to make everyone else worry. The thought that these dreams could be a trick crossed his mind more than once, a new tactic from Vecna, an infiltration of his sleep that was meant to lull him into some kind of false sense of security.
Safety - an unknown feeling.
But everyone else spent their days talking about school and their new bosses, the fair that was coming to town to celebrate the town hall finally being rebuilt. No one mentioned Vecna or dreams or gates or girls they knew from somewhere they couldn’t place.
So Steve accepted the fact that whatever these dreams were - whatever they meant - they were just for him. Which meant that you were his too.
Weeks went by with Steve viewing you from the split in his wall, sometimes hearing music, sometimes hearing your muffled voice. Never real words, never loud enough to hear and it didn’t seem like you could hear him either. But Steve watched, enraptured, following you around different parts of the world, new countries and scenes that he could never really place but, oh my god, each one felt like home with you in it.
Then one night, he saw himself.
He felt the surge of panic flood him even in his sleep, his body jolting against his bed as he saw the familiar face, staring back at him, nonplussed. He looked a little different, maybe older. His hair was shorter at the back, cropped closer to the nape of his neck but the biggest difference was how happy he looked.
This Steve, the one in his dream, inside this gate - this Steve from another time, another life - he looked lighter. He didn’t have purple smudges under his eyes, no deep lines settling across his forehead from frowning so much. His clothes were different too, looser, less fitting, the colours more muted. He wore a pair of jeans that looked much more comfortable than his tight Levi’s, a soft burgundy sweater that had the sleeves rolled up.
Steve didn’t recognise where this dream took place, but he knew it wasn’t Hawkins. America, yeah, the street signs and licence plates on the cars in the street giving that detail away, but he wasn’t too sure where. The buildings were bigger, shinier, more glass than brick but the skies were still blue and it looked peaceful, warm.
Safe.
Dream Steve strolled down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking back over his shoulder every now and then as if to make sure the real Steve was following him. He walked past storefronts and stopped to pet a dog, a golden retriever who was waiting for his owner outside of a bakery. When he came to a bookstore, Steve could see a large building in the distance, a huge billboard atop it that looked like it was advertising a new movie, or a show maybe. It didn’t have much details on it, no actors nor dates to tell what year this was supposed to be.
Certainly not 1988.
It only had lettering across it, big and bold and red against a pristine white background: “ANOTHER LIFE.”
The bell to the bookstore jingled and then Steve saw you. As pretty as you had been in every other gate, every other world, every other lifetime. Like a figurine inside a snow globe, like something from a fairytale. Steve had never seen you this close before.
He watched your smile, the way it widened at the sight of his counterpart, this other version of him. You were so pretty that his breath got caught in his lungs, his sleeping body kicking out in shock when you lunged at the dream version of him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in greeting.
Steve watched the two figures embrace on the street, he watched how this luckier man got to bring his hand to your cheek and hold to there to kiss, how his lips - Steve’s own lips - met your own and parted them, mouths melting together in something that was so much more than a quick hello.
Steve didn’t have it in him to feel jealous then. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He watched the hand that held your jaw, the thumb that caressed your cheekbone as you grinned into him, your own hands clutching his waist now. There was a freckle, the same as the one he had on his own hand, in the matching spot on yours. This Steve took that hand and kissed that very mark, smacking kisses across your palm and up your wrist until you were laughing, head thrown back, eyes bright.
Steve hadn’t seen anything so happy.
He woke up before the dream finished, before the gate closed. Steve woke up with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry in the navy gloom of his bedroom. It wasn’t yet morning. There was no gate on his bedroom fall, no new city between the plaid striped wallpaper.
He thought it could’ve been Chicago, maybe New York. Perhaps Philadelphia.
He wondered if he left and went looking for that bookstore, that street, that billboard, he’d find you too. If he was supposed to, if you were real, if this life was all he was supposed to get.
Something told him otherwise, that open crack inside his chest that made him ache for hours after he awoke. He never forgot about you during the day, each life he’d watched you live, how you had grown your hair out and then cut it, how you seemed to change your clothing depending on where you were, from old petticoats to jeans and shirts with logos on them he’d never seen before.
Steve felt like he’d lived a thousand lives with you.
He wasn’t sure what he had to do to get you in this one.
After two weeks of dreaming of this life with you, one that he was so sure would happen, he spoke to Joyce. He waited until the kids dragged Hopper out into the yard to help them with some sort of rocket they wanted to make and he found her in the kitchen. It was the closest kind of feeling he had to home - bar from the sight of you, but he wasn’t really sure if that counted when he was asleep.
So he tried to sound casual when he leaned over the Byers kitchen counter, elbows avoiding the jelly stains that Mike had left after making a sandwich, and asked, “hey, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”
Joyce blinked at him, flour and butter between her fingers as she tried to turn the page in her recipe book back to the instructions for apple pie. The book flopped shut when she let go, her hands reaching for a rag instead. Her eyes never left Steve’s.
“Uh, well. I guess so,” she paused, head tilted to the side as she watched the younger man, how his cheeks turned pink and his gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Why’d you ask?”
Steve didn’t know what to say then. So he floundered, flushed in the face and nose scrunched as he ran his fingers through his hair too harshly, hoping that no one else walked in. What was he supposed to say? That he was dreaming of gates in his bedroom walls? But it was okay? ‘Cause these ones didn’t have monsters or creatures set out to kill him, no, these gates held something that he thought he’d once had, that they held something he was so sure he was supposed ot have again?
Maybe, just not in this life.
Maybe, this time, something was broken. Wires were crossed, cut, unravelled. Maybe the upside down messed up a timeline, maybe it ripped apart whatever plan it had originally laid out for Steve Harrington.
He didn’t know. But he knew it sounded crazy, even in his head.
So he shrugged and said, “no reason.”
And then that night, after Joyce gave him funny looks over the dinner she served him and the rest of his friends, the kitchen table full, he went home and lay on his bed, hardly bothering to pull the sheets over his bare chest.
He counted his breaths, hoped for sleep and wished for you.
Like always, his room grew darker, his lids heavier and the crack in his bedroom wall crumbled and split until the dust settled and he saw your face. You were alone this time, pretty as ever and in the same looking city he’d last seen himself in. The skies were blue behind you, the buildings still tall and shiny looking, all glass window panes and metal framework. If he concentrated enough, he could smell summer.
Hot tarmac and sunscreen, fresh fruit from one of the stores behind you, tart lemons and freshly ground coffee.
You were looking right at him and even in his sleep, Steve smiled. Your eyes were pretty, too pretty, the colour bright and your gaze excited as you gazed at him. Like you’d been waiting. You held out a hand, coaxing, kind, soft, patient. And for the first time, when Steve reached out too, his hand slipped through the gate.
He was right, about the season, about it being summer. The air inside this world was warm on his skin, like the sun was on him despite being sprawled out in the blue gloom of his dark bedroom. It felt like a July morning, right before the heat hit.
He was almost touching your fingers when he woke up alone again.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington au
336 notes
·
View notes
Text
One thing that can save you from so much needless bickering online is always taking an "innocent until proven guilty" approach about whether or not somebody is an idiot. If something that a person you don't know is doing, thinking, or saying makes no sense to you, it's better to assume that your initial assumption of what's going on is wrong, and that there's some additional element in this that you're unaware of, and what they're up to makes sense in context.
Let's say that someone posts on tumblr: "oh great, there's a fucking crocodile on the backyard. Hope it goes away before I have to let the dog out." Talking about it in a very casual way like that's just shit that happens sometimes.
And this is read by someone whose first assumption is that everyone online comes from a similar background and cultural context as they do, and thinks: Well, if there was a crocodile on my backyard, that would mean there's something horribly wrong, and I would be unsettled indeed. As this person does not seem appropriately freaked out about this, then clearly they must be an idiot.
And so they swoop in to scold the OP for being so casual about something that must clearly be a dire situation, an apex predator like a crocodile roaming around is an emergency worse than any regular invasive species, they must immediately find out where that creature escaped from and not let it out of their sight!
And meanwhile, the original OP argues that every single step of that plan is insane and they are not going to do that. And they continue arguing like this, because one is correct in their stance that an escaped crocodile in an environment it doesn't belong in is a dire and serious situation, and the other one is correct in their stanse that it would be ridiculous to call animal control over simply seeing a wild animal naturally chilling in its native environment.
And this whole argument could have been avoided if the responder had taken the alternative route: Concluding that since behaving the way OP does in their own environment would be idiotic, then clearly they must be living somewhere else.
And a simple question of "are crocodiles normal where you're from?" could have settled this immediately, as the two would have immediately come to learn that one of them is from Australia and the other one is from France.
381 notes
·
View notes
Text
Divine. // Heian Sukuna x M!Reader <3
smut brainrot :(
-!! Overstim, - oral, - sex with a lot of feewings, - monsterfucking (he has 2 cocks), - tadbit body horror possibly
--------------------------------------------------
aghjakhg he's so.. :3
------------------
Sukuna couldn't quite believe it: your hands, so soft, were gently running themselves over his chest.
"What are you...?" The words clogged in his throat, feeling you start to trace down.
You shifted in his lap, alone with him and solely him, -- under the dark awning of the night. No one would come to look for the two of you, not now, when it was so late out.
You could barely see the massive body in front of you, -- so you felt him. You ran your fingers over the expanse of his chest, his shoulders, his four arms, - mapping a general shape in your mind's eye. You couldn't see but you could see him, -- see him in a way no had before.
Air eluded itself from his lungs and he shuttered involuntarily. He had never been touched, been held like this, handled so tenderly. Fingers, miniscule compared to his massive figure, grazed over the markings etched onto his skin. You could faintly feel yourself touch over a scar, a raised, rough mark on his perfect body. It only made you sink deeper into him, his loose embrace of his arm around your waist. Your fingertips sketch the defined muscle, feeling every dip of skin and flesh, -- living proof of the decades of hard, grueling work engrained into his abdomen. His abs slightly flex when you run over them, you can feel the strong muscles ripple with each sharp intake of breath.
You reach the curve of his second mouth, running your thumb over the thin lip in his stomach.
"Careful..." he mutters. The last time someone had gotten so close to that area, it hadn't ended well for him. Sukuna could briefly picture his mangled skeleton, twisted and bent at all the wrong angles.
The Curse was in awe, how you effortlessly touched over his body, hardened by the decades of war and bloodshed it had borne witness to.
A noise involuntarily ripped itself from his lips, - the broken sound of a tiny, cornered animal. He had never in his life been touched in such a way, -- revered almost.
You reach back up, fingers dancing along his skin, tracing every line of those inky black markings. Sukuna realizes too late when you reach for his neck, pausing there, to rub the place where his pulse was. The blood rushed underneath your touch, rapid and humming and alive. It was such a vulnerable spot for him, but Sukuna stays frozen, rooted to his spot, so you don't stop. You travel up, all the way up to his face, where they lingered over his jaw. You press the pads of your fingers into the hard bones of his face, feeling along his jaw, his chin, and the jutting outline of his nose.
In his long lifetime most had shunned him: turning on him with huge swords and fearful expressions. But with you, he no longer was the ghastly monster, he just simply was.
"Beautiful...." You breathe
Sukuna's own breath faltered,
"You think I'm beautiful?" He sounded surprise, unsure, -- a kind of insecurity that should have terrified him, -- but it was with you, and he embraced this vulnerable state.
You smile softly, only Sukuna with his cursed vision could make the shape out in the dark,
"Very."
Sukuna wanted to lick the worship off your lips.
The lower arms on your abdomen tighten.
Silently, your fingers meet the rough start of his second face. You freeze, feeling the harsh change in texture from his smooth skin. Sukuna hesitates; would this be where it all came to an end? When you look at him with anything but deep adoration? Where the affectionate touches would be met with violent resistance, and you'd hate him, find him to be the grotesque and horrifying monster everyone else did?
Sukuna hated himself for feeling so hopeful.
But you simply start your exploration again, fingers travelling up and down the rough expanse of melded flesh.
"Fascinating.."
Sukuna was surprised; you found his second face fascinating.
He waited for the moment you'd change your mind, stop lying to yourself, start spitting crude insults and accusatory words, to swear, to hit, to resist him in some way.
But it never came.
You trace the rough folds of his face with a caress nothing short of adoring.
For the longest time, he had been denied this.
Sukuna's eyes were closed now. He couldn't comprehend the mixture of emotions he was feeling in this moment.
He was completely exposed, vulnerable... beautiful...
His second face... usually filled with terror... was receiving such tender care.
His thumbs trace to the hem of your top, gently pressing down into the soft skin, rubbing what he hoped were affectionate caresses. No one had ever made him feel such a way before, and he wished to show you the same affection, the same adoration, as you showered onto him. He had to admit he was quite inexperienced-- making contact with another living thing usually had some violent motive, but all Sukuna desired to do was wrap his arms around your tinier body -- shield you from the rest of the world. The idea of anyone else getting this kind of attention from you filled him with a strange bitterness unknown to him: jealousy.
He could feel every tiny detail of your movements, every inch of you getting slowly leaning in closer, every carefree intake of breath. He felt envious of the way the oxygen so effortlessly entered your lungs, how you inhale it without a second thought. It would be so easy for him to simply reach out and crush your windpipe, steal the air from your lungs the same way you did his.
In this moment, he saw and felt it all. Every inch of your body was beautiful to him.
"Mmm..." he whispered, relishing in the feeling of your presence so close to him.
Carefully, tentatively, you dip your head down, bringing your face closer, lips softly grazing his cheek.
Sukuna almost choked.
The feeling of your lips on his cheek sent chills through his body. He had always seen himself as the menacing and terrifying harbinger of suffering who had to be kept at a distance.
But now, he was seeing from your view... And from your perspective, he was beautiful.
His heart pounded against his chest as he felt your breath on his cheek.
Then you kiss him;
Every muscle, every tendon of his body seemed to tighten, and you were surprised they didn't just snap altogether.
All kinds of new, delicious sensations coursed through him,
Mwa :3
He had spent countless years of his life slaughtering people and taking control of everything he could... But here, he was weak again, like a newborn child.
He felt his breath grow short, labored, completely lost in the sensations of the kiss. All his fears and regrets, all the pain and misery accumulated from his years of cursed isolation, separated from the world around him, becoming the untouchable King of Curses, -- It all melted away. It was pure, unadulterated bliss.
He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, pressing you against him. Having you so close, you seemed so delicate to him, yet you were exploring him without hesitation, without fear, the first person he had encountered in so many years who didn't think of him as a monster.
His muscles were completely tense, but he had no desire to stop. He was enjoying every second of it.
You were kissing him, and he felt your tongue peek out from your intertwined lips, slipping into his mouth and meeting his. You fit so nicely against him, his hands slotting perfectly onto your waist, hips fitting like two puzzle pieces. It was all so... soothing to him.
The way you were taking control was indescribable--your kisses making his heartbeat so fast he swore it would explode, his breath was fast and short. He didn't think he could keep these feelings in for long without combusting altogether.
You pull away, gasping for air (unlike Sukuna, who as a curse, if he could have his way, would have kissed you for hours, days even).
"Your touch is.... divine"
Sukuna could bathe in the way you gazed at him, the way your eyelids drooped, the way your bright irises shone up at him through your lashes. Many once eerie, cold maroon eyes met yours with enough loving reverence to shake Heaven Herself.
As the word left his lips, he was staring at you. The look on his face was one of utter contentment and happiness.
You had kissed him so delicately, so tenderly. He felt every sensation burn itself into his mind, desperately grasping to remember the way your lips felt on his.
His grip on you was gentle and cautious. He didn't want to crush you. You were so small and slender. Such a frail and delicate human in his grasp. Yet the same, you were something else, something he had never experienced before.
You wanted something so intimate with him. It had Sukuna spiraling deeper and deeper into a side he had long since forgotten about. He felt frail, weak... human, -- yet Sukuna couldn't find it within himself to care. The rush of sensations and emotions he felt from your contact, from your kisses and the way you touched him, -- It was intoxicating.
He wanted you, every single part of you...
No matter what.
---
You laid with him that night, and he took you-- right on the dirt ground beneath a sky of stars. Sukuna reveled in the way your body writhed underneath him, such a beautiful, fiery creature.
He bent down, placing a gentle, loving kiss to your forehead, licking the salty sheen of sweat from your skin. You shudder, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as another hot lick of pleasure curdles through you, searing white.
He couldn't get enough of you, decades of societal neglect and the absence of human companionship had starved Sukuna, and you were a whole feast. He ravished your body, the carnal hunger never satiated until he filled you with his full.
You clung desperately to his strong forearms, nails digging into the firm muscle. Incoherent babblings cascaded from your lips which he dipped down to hungrily lap up as you mewled underneath him. He'd crash his lips onto yours, the sweetness almost lost from the first time, -- drowned in the desperate need of the kiss.
Two large hands held you steady, keeping your legs apart and waist in place as Sukuna continued his rolling thrusts into your lower abdomen. Every snap of his hips against yours sent another coil of pleasure curling in your stomach.
Puddles of his seed bubbled from your opening, leaking through the small crevices and corners from where his massive cocks somehow didn't take up. You swear you almost shatter completely the moment you feel those sharp teeth graze the walls lining your insides.
Sukuna smiles from inside of you, two long tongues lolling out to lick at the coating of your guts. He pulls out the slightest bit, just enough so a relieved smile breaks on your face. He wished there was a way to permanently engrave the moment your hopeful expression shattered into his brain-- the way your eyes widen in horror, your mouth slacked open as the two tongues bully their way between your organs. They twist, intertwining, drinking the wetness from your body dry almost, and coming to a deadly point prodding at your stomach and swirling your intestines.
You cry out, the agonizing pain clashing deliciously with the pure bliss you felt. Your mind blanks and all the colors melt together.
Everything turns molten. Sukuna reaches down between your thighs, taking you in one big hand. You choke on your own spit, coughing and spluttering, hands flying to your crotch, only to be gently swatted away. Sukuna chuckled, gently pushing your body down as your back arches.
He continues to play with you in his hand, kneading the flesh between the pads of his fingers. He runs his knuckles up and down, coating his fingers with the tears from your crying tip. He tugged you playfully, watching like an eager puppy when your relief pours into his hands, drizzling in between his fingers, squirting onto his chest, painting the black markings white.
Sukuna places two lathered fingers into his mouth, groaning from the taste of you sitting on his tongue, and he sucks down hard.
He needed you like the earth the sky's rain. You gave meaning to his long, empty, accursed life. You were forever damned to him, and Sukuna would have it no other way.
You were his god, his stars, his beauty.
And he found you absolutely ... divine.
<3
--------------------
[A/N]: the other kind of lobotomy kaisen
#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jjk oneshot#jjk smut#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#jjk x y/n#sukuna#sukuna smut#sukuna ryomen smut#ryomen x reader#ryomen smut#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x male reader#jjk x male reader#x male reader#x male smut#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna x reader#jjk sukuna#jujutsu sukuna#sukuna x reader smut#sukuna x reader fluff
210 notes
·
View notes
Text
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀[ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝓥𝐈𝐄𝐖 ] anatchaya suputhipong
␥ g!p natty x fem!reader
␥ 963 words
🚨 SMUT, praise, unprotected, hair pulling, potential exhibitionism/public, college!au, creampie, squirting
␥ you, the quiet student who minds her own business, gets persuaded to follow one of your problematic peers to the school rooftop.
One thing about being the ‘quiet one’ is that you’re a fly on the wall to people’s conversations. Being the one who barely says a word allows you a peek into everyone else’s business.
Which is how you’re aware of the chaos and drama that happens between a group of two-faced nepo babies or two supposed ‘best friends’ where one is trying to take the other’s boyfriend away.
The drama proves that no one can be trusted, and that it’s best to mind your own business, learn the material, and graduate. But who knew that minding your own business could still lead you to trouble.
Natty, one of the many problematic peers you try to avoid, had approached you at the beginning of the week. As friendly as she was, you internally questioned why she would talk to you now when she has been in at least one class with you every semester. Nonetheless, you were certain that she just wanted to copy your work, and you couldn’t care enough to fight her off on it.
Except she didn’t want to copy off of you.
In fact, she didn’t want anything school-related from you.
A shallow thrust of her cock from behind pries your dripping cunt open and forces your chest up against the hard wall that you’re pinned against. You don’t know how you let her convince you to come up to the rooftop where any student could hear and see you but here you are, wrapped around Natty’s finger with your soiled panties tucked away in her pocket.
You whimper when she tugs at your hair, forcing your head back. Her laughter sends a chill down your spine as you’ve fallen prey to an attractive girl’s advances, but getting tangled up in bad business might—for once—be something you won’t regret.
Clearly, because you’re no longer trying to escape.
“What a beauty.” Her breathy remarks fan over your neck, goosebumps pricking your sensitive skin. “I’ve always wanted to feel what it’s like being inside you.”
Her grip on your roots tighten, igniting a sense of pain and pleasure that threatens to buckle your knees and fall at her mercy.
You’ve never thought of such a thing about anyone. You will acknowledge hot and beautiful women but never intended to jump on anyone for a piece of them. You’ve certainly never thought that anyone saw you in the same light. You may not be as observant as you thought you were.
But Natty gives off the vibe of someone who doesn’t stick around and makes moves on multiple women. You fully expect to be one of her many conquests, therefore not caring that this may be your only experience with her. You’re simply here in the moment, reveling in the way her cock makes you feel like there’s not enough room to spare.
In the midst of the heat, she slides out, filling you with momentary despair as she spins you around to face her. With your back to the wall, she raises your leg over her shoulder. Your flexibility somehow exists and is tested but with lust still burning in the pit of your belly, you don’t feel any discomfort. Your ample wetness grants her cock easy access and you heave a relieved sigh as she resumes fucking you.
“What a pretty girl,” she boasts with a smirk as her pace tests your balance. “So pretty dripping for me like this.”
The mess between your thighs can’t be denied. After coming once on her fingers, you can feel another impending wave in the distance. Natty has acquired enough experience—be it through various women or a lot of alone time—to know how to touch you and make you come. You can sense the rise of her ego as your noises become louder and more frequent. With your cunt threatening to resist her, she’s fucking you harder, knocking your back against the hard wall with each thrust of her hips.
“Na-Natty,” you whine, one hand clawing on the back of your thigh and the other digging into the wall behind you for balance.
Your legs begin trembling. The earth is taunting you below, ready to cushion a hard descent from the ecstasy that’s rushing through your limbs. Your eyes roll back as her thumb sneaks between both of your hips and flicks over your engorged clit. Just as you’re about to let out a shamelessly loud moan, the door to the rooftop slams open on the other side.
You immediately slap a hand over your mouth, but Natty doesn’t stop. She only grins and drills you harder. Whatever thought that crossed your mind is fucked out of you, and you suffer in the presence of your oblivious peers as you gush around her cock. You’re ready to slide down the wall but she keeps you propped up and uses you to her desire.
Each thrust forces spurts of your cum out, leaving your thighs and the cold hard ground in a messy puddle of your release. Your eyelids flutter open and you spectate Natty’s orgasm. Her hips stutter after she bottoms out inside you, stuffing you with a shallow thrust. Warmth floods your insides and your eyes roll back as she forces you to take it all in.
“God,” she grunts against your chest.
You hope that your peers don’t hear from the other side of the rooftop. That they don’t catch on to the ‘quiet one’ getting her brains fucked out by one of the sociable, troublemaking ones.
If word were to spread, you would have no choice but to transfer schools. But if that bridge needs to be crossed, you’ll do so when you get there.
For now, you simply accept the white hot release that’s flooding and dripping out of you.
#girl group imagines#girl group smut#kiss of life smut#kiof smut#natty smut#kiss of life imagines#kiof imagines#natty imagines#a new start 😊
208 notes
·
View notes
Note
i just noticed on your 'yuu gets sold' sorta series that there was a good ending, by chance could you do a bad ending one? if not that's totally ok! keep safe and stay healthy ❤️
oh god. I have a very evil idea for this.
parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim
summary: a bad (or good, depending on your stance) ending
type of post: short fic
characters: surprise :)
additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is short, HELP
Everyone waits.
The chatter and banter which once occupied the courtyard dies down to dull whispers and foot tapping.
Everyone waits, and there's no Crowley.
"Wonderful," Jamil sighs. "He's probably taken all the money and run off. I told you all that-"
"Maybe he's late!" Kalim shouts. A few in the crowd murmur in hopeful agreement.
Silver coughs. "Maybe he realized this whole thing is ridiculous and is processing everyone's refunds,"
They don't like that option as much.
The sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, threatening to shroud everyone in darkness as the minutes tick on.
"Well, I've had enough of this," Vil says, turning towards the exit. "I've put off my afternoon long enough."
"For once, we can agree on something," Leona murmurs, dragging Ruggie along with him.
No one is exactly surprised with this turn of events- but there's a definite sense of disappointment that everyone is sharing.
"He probably just forgot or 'somethin," Epel says, walking alongside Ace, Deuce, and Jack back to Ramshackle to update you on the happenings.
Jack shrugs. "He's definitely not the most organized, but there's no way someone could just "forget" about this. I think Jamil is right, he probably ran off with the money while he could. The swindler..."
Deuce is the next to add something to the pity party. "And yet, we should've known this was a possibility,"
"Shoulda seen it coming..." Epel murmurs. "I shoulda listened to Vil and pulled out while I still had the chance. Dang it..."
The lights are on in Ramshackle as the four approach, a warm and welcome sight after their disappointing afternoon. And the front door is open- were you expecting them?
"Hm. Well, think of it this way," Ace pushes the door the rest of the way open. "We may have been scammed, but at least nothing changes. I mean, it could've been worse."
"A lot worse," Deuce murmurs, following him inside.
The four make it into the foyer and stop dead in their tracks.
There are many things to expect walking into Ramshackle- cobwebs, dust, ghosts, you- Crowley is usually not one of them.
"You- you've been here this whole time?!" Epel shouts, throwing his arms out. "We were all 'waitin for 'ya like a bunch of idjits!"
Deuce and Ace wince. "Dude, chill... but seriously, where were you?"
Crowley doesn't have the chance to answer before something else steals away their attention.
You walk into the room, suitcase in hand. "Guys?"
The four turn to greet you, eyes wide at the luggage you're carrying. "What's that... Crowley?"
The man himself just stands there, pretending to ponder something. "I could have sworn I sent someone to break the news... how peculiar,"
Epel's brow knots. "What news?"
"A third party somehow got wind of our little... venture and donated a very high sum at the last minute. Along with a very passionately worded letter about our dear prefect's safety here at school," he pauses. "Or lack thereof."
Crowley sighs. "The name rung a bell, but... I couldn't imagine how or why anyone outside of NRC would be following the prefect's moves so closely,"
Deuce's eyes narrow. "Crowley. What are you trying to say?"
"Well, I..." he says, seemingly at a loss for words. "I'm afraid to say that our prefect is being transferred to Noble Bell College,"
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#okay. admittedly I had a little TOO much fun with this concept. mostly because I've always wanted to write an 'everyone fighting over yuu#just for him to swoop in at the last minute' type thing. because it's funny and I actually really like mr. catholic guilt#I'm a big fan of the character he's based on anyway
218 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stress Relief Series- MYG
Summary: A couple weeks ago Taehyung asked a favor. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. How can you say no to that.
Paring: Yoongi/Reader (Namjoon, Jin and Taehyung are mentioned)
Rating: M/18+
Word Count: 5k
Tags: smut, fingering, eating pussy, soft Yoongi, dom Yoongi, hand jobs, cum eating, dirty talk.
Authors Note: My sweet Yoongi.
In case you missed it
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Yoongi knew he should have changed the code on his door ages ago.
Maybe he would actually get work done if he did.
His fingers danced across the keyboard as he pulled his headphones tighter against his ears to block out the sound of his bandmates talking.
His shoulders were starting to hurt from being so slouched over a computer desk his eyes were dry and his patience was thin
So very thin.
Yoongi knew what his strengths were, making music was one of them but lately he felt as if he had just hit a wall and could not break through it. He was stuck, musically constipated as Hobi said, which caused everyone to break out into giggles and Yoongi to shoot Hobi a very lewd gesture causing everyone to burst into laughs again
Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment and tried his best to get in a happy calm mindset but he could still hear Taehyung and Namjoon teasing each other in the background and Jin munching away on something.
Yoongi had enough and he ripped his headphones and turned the chair around.
“Alright everyone out! You all are annoying and I can’t concentrate. I’m changing the passcode tomorrow so out. Now.” He demands as Namjoon and Tae stare at him in shock and Jin just kept eating.
“We aren’t even doing anything! You had your headphones in the whole time!” Tae argues as he shoots Yoongi his signature pout which usually works, but not today.
“I could still hear you and Namjoon chatting. Out! Seriously I can’t concentrate. And Jin stop eating and getting crumbs everywhere. Honestly” Yoongi grumbles as he crosses his arms and stares them all down.
“Yoongi you spend all your time here we feel like we haven’t seen you except at dance practice. We wanted to hang out with you.” Namjoon says standing up and coming to sit in the chair next to Yoongi, concern written all over his face.
Yoongi let out a sigh, he didn’t mean to make Namjoon concerned, he had enough to worry about as their leader.
“Yeah, Yoongi I just wanted to hang out with my favorite Hyung.” Tae pouts as Yoongi shoots him a small smile.
“Rude!” Jin calls out kicking Taehyung’s shin and Namjoon puts a hand over his heart fake offended.
“Laying it on thick to stay. Nice try but no. Out all of you.” Yoongi says as Taehyung and Jin grumble but gather their things.
“I’ll stay and help you with the song,” Namjoon responds as he grabs the spare headphones out of the desk drawer and scoots closer.
“Thank you Namjoon. Finally some help.” Yoongi complains as the other two roll their eyes.
“Wow, Yoongi you seem stressed…” Taehyung starts with a smirk and Yoongi knows where he is going with this.
He hasn’t forgotten the proposition Taehyung made to them a month and a half prior. He had just been so busy he hadn’t thought about it.
Well okay, he has thought about it but it’s usually after a long studio session or dance session very late at night when it would be rude to call upon a stranger, so Yoongi would let his hand wrap around his cock and imagine it was someone else. Those were the nights he slept the best.
“Yeah, Yoongi you might want to do something about that. If only there was someone to help.” Jin teased as they both refused to leave standing by the door with matching smirks.
“Did I not tell you to get out?” Yoongi shoots back as he stares them down giving them death glares.
“Okay, guys enough. We are all stressed out let’s not make it worse.” Namjoon says diplomatically as Yoongi feels his shoulders slump again.
“You don’t have to be you know. I gave you a way out…an option.” Taehyung reminds them with a wave of his cell phone which has Jin cracking up beside him.
“Enough. Out.” Yoongi demands as he points to the door.
Taehyung giggles and opens the door to leave but Jin doesn’t leave just yet, his hand hovering on the door as he adjusts his bag on his shoulder.
“Ah, Namjoon I forgot to thank you for going to that exhibit and ditching me for dinner. I had a fantastic night. You really missed out".” He says teasingly with a wink as Namjoon’s eyes go wide.
Taeyhung is hunched over in the hallway cackling like a maniac and Yoongi is very close to standing up and slamming the door in their faces.
“Jin…seriously,” Namjoon whines with disapproval in his voice.
When Taehyung first brought the idea forward it was obvious that Namjoon disapproved. He reminded them they were idols and they needed to be careful and this was a huge risk. Taehyung reminded them he had been with Y/N for months and nothing had happened and his career was still intact, leaving it open for each of them to decide individually.
It seems not everyone shared Namjoon’s worry.
“And just so you know, my face is still handsome when I’m fucking someone against a mirror.” Jin finishes with a satisfied smirk as Yoongi finally has enough and stands up to slam the door in his so-called handsome face.
Taehyung and Jin run down the hallway cacking like hyenas before Yoongi can catch them and when he does slam the door it’s not as satisfying.
He runs a hand down his tired face and marches back to his computer where Namjoon is still seated in shock.
“You okay?” Yoongi asks as he fiddles around to pull up the song he had been stuck on for the past couple of days, sincerely hoping Namjoon could help him or he might scrap the whole thing out of frustration.
“Yeah, I just… they went against my warning? The maknaes I understand... they are horny little monsters but Jin? He is the oldest and supposed to be responsible? What if something happens?” Namjoon frets.
“I’m sure it will be okay. Taehyung said he has been with Y/N for a while and nothing has happened. I mean Jin was the one to point her out to him in the first place…responsible my ass. Either way, it already has happened and time machines don’t exist. We have enough to worry about with this tour.” Yoongi points out as Namjoon fiddles in his seat.
“I’m calling a meeting,” Namjoon says pulling out his phone.
Yoongi stops him with a hand on his arm.
“Namjoon no. What’s a meeting going to do anyway? You tell them not to they are going to want to do it more. We should just leave it.” Yoongi says as Namjoon grumbles and puts his phone in his pocket.
“Let’s just focus on the song okay? Please? Or do I have to kick you out too?” Yoongi half jokes as he grabs his discarded headphones.
“Sorry, Hyung just…stressed out,” Namjoon admits as Yoongi nods and puts the headphones over his messy hair as they both get to work.
The thing about someone warning you not to do something…
It really does make you want to do it more.
This was one of those times Yoongi hated being right.
He and Namjoon worked on the song for a total of two hours and Namjoon did help him get over his creative block.
It was a good studio session and Yoongi was grateful for his friend.
However, Namjoon had plans with some friends at his house, and even though he offered an invite to Yoongi multiple times Yoongi declined.
He wanted to stay and work on the music some more despite Namjoon telling him he needed rest and to eat something.
“I’m going to text you every hour Yoongi and if you are not out of this studio by eleven I’m dragging you out,” Namjoon warns as he throws his helmet over his head and waves as he leaves.
The problem is that Yoongi had all these ideas when Namjoon was around. He felt the creative juices flowing.
Now that Namjoon is gone and he is alone everything feels wrong.
His sweater is too hot, his hair tickles his face, his eyes burn from staring at a screen for too long, his shoulders hurt, he feels itchy and irritable and he is hard, so painfully hard in his track pants it’s annoying him further.
“Namjoon no. What’s a meeting going to do anyway? You tell them not to they are going to want to do it more.”
Yoongi hates being right.
But since Jin mentioned it Yoongi has not been able to stop thinking about it. It had been ages since he had something to satisfy him other than his right hand and the thought was tempting. How amazing it would feel to slide into a tight wet pussy, how good it would feel to have someone moaning his name, taking his cock, taking care of him.
He can hear Namjoon’s panic in the back of his mind. What if something does go wrong?
However, his skin is prickling with heat and his stomach is swooping with need and just at the thought of fucking someone his cock is twitching and leaking in his track pants making his skin itch some more.
Maybe Taehyung was onto something after all.
Fuck it.
Yoongi grabs his phone from his desk with one hand and palms the head of his cock with the other. He wants to relieve at least some tension so he doesn’t blow his load the second he gets to you.
With his free hand, he types out a message.
And lucky for him it doesn’t take long for you to respond.
By the time you hear the knocking on the door, you have just gotten the food all laid on the table.
You smirk to yourself as you smooth down your shirt and open the door to see Min Yoongi standing there.
He shoots you a shy timid smile as you lead him in and right to the kitchen.
His eyes widen and you try not to laugh.
“What’s all this?” He asks blinking slowly as he takes in the dimmed lights and the takeout containers.
“Y/N you didn’t have to do this.” He says softly as you pour him a glass of water and gesture for him to sit down at the table.
“I didn’t do this. Taehyung did. Well I mean… he texted me and gave me the heads up you might reach out. When I told him you did he ordered all this food for us and said you were stuck in the studio today and probably didn’t eat. He got all your favorites… or at least that’s what he told me” You admit as you sit across from Yoongi and his eyes soften.
“He was being a menace today and I had to kick him and Jin out of my studio he really knows how to suck up,” Yoongi explains as you start to pile his plate high and he runs a hand through his hair.
“Yup, that sounds like Taehyung.” You tease as you give him his plate and work on making your own.
You pile on a little bit of everything and push your chair closer to Yoongi as you both eat.
Conversation flows freely and you find Yoongi very easy to talk to. He tells you a little bit about his day and asks you about yours.
The whole thing is very domestic for two people who just met twenty minutes ago.
Once dinner is finished you pack everything up and leave it in the fridge reminding yourself to make Yoongi take it home with him.
You turn around to see Yoongi who is sitting in the chair, arms crossed over his stomach and trying his best to keep his eyes open.
He just looks so exhausted.
“Come on Yoongi time for sleep.” You coo as his eyes slowly flutter open and a pink blush paints his cheeks.
“But- I didn’t come here just to eat and sleep, I wanna fuck you.” He says innocently as you bite back a smile and help him out of his chair.
He loops an arm around you and buries his face into your neck as you guide him to your bedroom and help him flop down on the bed.
“How about we sleep first, baby? You look two seconds away from passing out.” You say to him.
“I’m fine I promise.” He says pouting out his lower lip looking as cute as ever.
“Yoongi how about we take a little nap at least? You can’t keep your eyes open.” You push, and much to your surprise he doesn’t argue and instead climbs up the bed.
You giggle when he throws back the smallest corner of the comforter to slip under and once he gets himself situated he makes grabby hands towards you.
You throw back the covers and climb under so you are the little spoon and immediately Yoongi wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush to his body so your back is pushed up against his chest and his nose is pressed into your hair.
“Thank you Y/N. m’ sorry this probably isn’t what you expected. And I don’t usually cuddle with people I don’t know…m’ just so tired.” Yoongi admits in a small voice as you push yourself closer to him and rub your hands up and down his arms.
“Yoongi let me take care of you, you are clearly exhausted from working so hard Let’s both get some rest okay?” You say softly as you bring his hand up to kiss the back of it causing him to push himself closer to you.
You were unsure how long you had slept for, all you knew was Yoongi’s arms were wrapped tightly around you and his cock was hard and pressing into your backside.
You craned your neck to look out your window seeing the sky dark and littered with stars. You both must have slept for at least a couple of hours.
You put your head back on the pillow and were about to doze off again when Yoongi let out a breathy whimper against your back and ground his cock harder into your butt. His hands tightened around you and you could hear the soft pants and whines that were spilling from his mouth as you smiled.
His moans were getting more high-pitched as he ground harder into you and your hand came around to cup at his bulge but you stopped yourself.
You never went over rules or anything with Yoongi because after you ate you both fell into a food coma-type sleep.
You weren’t sure if it was okay to touch him and you didn’t want to do it without his permission.
The only thing you could do was wake him up and just as you were about to do so you felt something else against your backside.
A pulsing vibration from a phone which meant someone was calling him.
You shook his arm to wake him and looked over your shoulder to see his eyes blearily opening as his phone continued to vibrate against your hip.
“Mm, what time is it?” He asked voice husky with sleep which made your stomach swoop, his sleepy voice was so sexy.
“Yoongi your-” You said as he suddenly realized and his eyes nearly popped open as he shoved his hard cock away from your backside and started apologizing profusely.
“No not that! I think someone is calling you. Your phone!” You say as he sits up still slightly disoriented as the vibrating stops.
But just as it stops it starts again and Yoongi leans back to fish his phone from his pocket frowning when he sees the screen.
“Shit, it’s Namjoon.” He says shooting you a look.
“I can leave if you need some privacy.” You say already turning to get out of bed, but Yoongi stops you with a strong hand on your thigh as he stares you down.
“Stay. This will be quick.” He says taking the call and holding the phone up to his ear as you slip back under the blankets.
“Hello?” Yoongi says as you fiddle with the blanket and try to make yourself look busy. Even though Yoongi wanted you to stay you still felt like you were intruding on something you shouldn’t have
You can faintly hear Namjoons worried voice over the phone. How he tried to text Yoongi multiple times and got no response.
You are about to stand up and leave despite Yoongi’s wishes when his long fingers circle your wrist and you gasp and stare at him in shock when he brings it to his hard cock and raises an eyebrow at you.
“Are you sure?” You whisper not wanting to be picked up by Namjoon on the other line as he nods and you slowly start to apply pressure to his hard cock through the thin material of his track pants.
“Mhmm. I know Joon. Mhmm.” Yoongi drawls as Namjoon continues to talk and you continue to stroke his cock through his pants watching as his hips rut up into your hand and how his eyes are fluttering with every pass of your palm.
Without hesitation, you dip your fingers into his waistband and boxers and circle the base of his cock, a choked groan leaving his lips as you hear Namjoon stop his talking, and you eye Yoongi.
“Yeah I’m okay Namjoon, sorry I just woke up from a nap.” Yoongi admits as he mouths the word “move” to you.
You dance your fingers along his painfully hard shaft and when you reach the head of his cock you can feel him dripping all over your fingers.
You gather as much of it as you can before taking your hand out of his pants and holding your fingers up to his face so he can see for himself.
His eyes widen when you take your fingers and pop them in your mouth, licking and sucking at the juices.
“Namjoon listen I have to-go I gotta go,” Yoongi says as you can hear the muffled noises of Namjoon protesting on the other line.
“Yoongi where did you nap?” You can hear Namjoon ask as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean in, kissing at the exposed skin of his neck as he throws his head back and you hear a small thump from when it hits the headboard.
“Nam-J-oon I have to go-seriously,” Yoongi says voice cracking as you suck on his neck letting your tongue flick over his warm flesh.
“Min Yoongi you better not be doing what I think you're doing!” You hear Namjoon warn.
You lick a bold stripe up his neck from collarbone to earlobe as Yoongi hangs up on his friend and throws his phone across the room.
His hands are tight on your hips as you position yourself so you are straddling him, pushing your wet core into his throbbing cock as he grabs you and pulls you in for a bruising kiss.
His lips are soft as they push into yours. His hands stay tight on your hips and your heart is racing in your chest when he wastes no time slipping his tongue into your mouth.
The kiss is heated and laced with heat and passion that it makes your head spin. He shifts his hips to push his hard cock into you and you whine against him as your core throbs with need.
“Need you. Fuck need you so bad. I’ve been hard all day thinking about this.” He mutters against your lips as his hands tug at the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head.
You can faintly hear his phone vibrating on the floor and you pull back to stare at him.
“Namjoon again?” You ask as Yoongi doesn’t seem too bothered, he is preoccupied with exploring your body with his tongue and taking off your bra.
“Yoongi your phone.” You cry out when he finally gets the bra off and his lips attach to your nipple sucking harshly causing moans to spill from your mouth and your eyes to close as your hands tangle in his hair.
“Don’t give a shit about Namjoon right now. Need you so fucking bad. Let him break down the door it’s not gonna stop me from fucking you.” Yoongi growls as he thrusts his cock up against you again and you whine.
You rake your hands through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he stares up at you, lips still wrapped around your nipple and a grin on his face.
“Woke up so fucking hard, wish you didn’t wear pants so I could have just slipped it right in.” He admits as you groan and grind your wet pussy down on his lap.
“Gonna soak my pants, baby. Gotta take these off.” He says as he helps you off of him and crawls down the bed so he is between your legs.
Your eyes widen in shock when he pulls your pants down harshly and throws them on the floor, muffling the sound of his still-vibrating phone even more.
“You sure you don’t want to answer your phone?” You ask as Yoongi kisses up and down your legs, stealing your breath from your lungs.
“And miss the chance of eating you out to get yelled at by Namjoon. Not a fucking chance.” He growls as he slowly makes his way to your core.
He takes his sweet time kissing up your thighs as you moan and thrash on the bed. Your body is on fire with need and you feel your core throb with every swipe of his tongue on your legs and thighs.
“Yoongi… please.” You cry out as you prop yourself up on pillows to get a better view of him between your legs.
“Please what? Use your words” Yoongi demands looking smug between your legs as his fingers run along your upper thighs.
“Touch me.” You whisper holding your breath in anticipation.
“I am touching you love.” He teases.
“Min Yoongi I swear to god. Please.” You cry out as he finally dips his finger into your folds and collects your wetness bringing it up to your clit and making your head hit the pillow and your eyes roll back.
“Fuck baby your soaking my fingers. Needy little thing aren’t you? Did the other boys touch you or was it all just talk?” He hums as he rubs small slow circles on your clit causing you to arch your back.
“Needy? You were the one grinding your cock into me earlier.” You tease as he removes his fingers and gives you a hard stare.
“I can stop you know.” He teases back with a mischievous smile as you whine and push your hips up, desperate to get him back to where you need him most.
“That’s what I thought.” He muttered as he lay himself down on the bed and your eyes widened as he brought his face closer to your dipping center.
“Fuck Yoongi.” You moan as he flattens his tongue against your slit and licks it all up.
You cry out and fist the sheets desperate to hold onto something and to ground yourself as Yoongi flicks his tongue over your clit causing you to cry out.
Yoongi works you with your tongue until you are a screaming sobbing mess under him. You feel your orgasm fast approaching and he must feel it too as he shoves two fingers deep inside of you and begin to scissor them, stretching you out as he licks and sucks at your clit.
Right when he curls his fingers deep inside you your body lets go and you arch up from the bed, his name falling like a prayer from your lips as your pussy clamps around his digits and you cum all over them and all over him as his tongue is still buried between your legs and his hair is tickling your thighs.
You come down and slump on the bed breathing heavily as you desperately try to catch your breath. You watch as Yoongi gently closes your legs and crawls up the bed towards you, his eyes sparkling as he shoves his pants and boxers down to free his hard, leaking cock. He throws them somewhere in the room as you giggle.
“So much better holy shit almost came in my pants tasting you.” He admits as his hand circles his cock and he strokes it slowly, trying to ease some of the built-up tension as you watch.
Yoongi’s skilled hand strokes and tugs at his cock, he takes his time with it letting out soft whines and moans with every pass of his fingers against the aching shaft.
“Fuck Yoongi, so hot.” You whimper as you close your thighs tightly trying to ease some of the ache between them.
Yoongi’s eyes travel down your body as he smirks when he sees your thighs clenching.
“One orgasm isn’t enough?” He asks releasing his cock and letting it smack against his stomach.
He crawls on top of you and uses his hands to spread your legs.
Your breath hitches when he leans down to press a soft slow kiss to your mouth and you reach up to tangle your hands into his sweaty hair.
“Hold them open for me. Let me grab a condom.” He whispers as he shimmies down the bed to grab his pants and digs through the pile of clothes to find his discarded phone.
His mouth draws up into a smirk when he checks the screen.
“Five missed calls from Namjoon. World record I think.” He teases as he grabs a condom from his wallet and throws his phone back down on the pile.
He takes his time rolling the condom on his hard length and you roll over to flick on the bedroom lamp casting the room in a warm glow.
"Is everything okay with Namjoon?” You ask as Yoongi crawls on the bed and positions his cock at your entrance.
“Yeah, he’s just… You know he’s our leader and he is the responsible one out of us. He feels like what we are doing isn’t the most responsible thing and is just worried.” Yoongi admits as he pushes his hair back from his face and stares you down.
“Does he know I signed a NDA contract? I legally can’t say anything…at all… ever?” You ask as Yoongi slides his cock head against your entrance coating it in your juices.
“Yeah, Taehyung told us that part it’s just… Namjoon you know. He worries a lot.” Yoongi admits with a fond look on his face.
“Sounds like he’s stressed out.” You tease as Yoongi lets out a laugh and slowly pushes his cock head inside.
The stretch is delicious and you open your legs wider to welcome him. He takes his time inching inside of you until he is fully sheathed and he pushes his forehead against yours and you both breathe heavily.
“Jin and Taehyung joked about that this morning. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. That’s why I’m here. And fuck was it a great decision. You’re so tight for me darling.” He mumbles as he presses soft kisses against your temple.
“Did you get hard in the studio? Thinking about me? Thinking about this?” You purr as Yoongi closes his eyes and shifts his hips rocking into you gently.
“You have no idea. Was fine when I was working on the song, the second Namjoon left. Fuck. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Felt like I was in heat. Needed this soaked pussy so bad.” Yoongi growls as you feel his cock twitch inside of you and you moan.
“Please tell me I can move. Please.” Yoongi begs and when you nod he grins wickedly down at you.
Yoongi pulls his cock most of the way out and grabs your legs. Before you can process it he has your legs thrown over his shoulder and starts to pound into you harshly.
You grip the blankets for support as Yoongi’s hard cock drags against your walls. He is fucking you with so much enthusiasm you feel like you might go right through the headboard.
Yoongi is moaning above you and is hitting that spot deep inside of you that has you crying out his name and gripping the sheets harder.
“Yoongi fuck, please. F-fuck feels so good.” You cry out as he reaches down to play with your clit, his skilled fingers rubbing it in a way that has your orgasm fast approaching.
“Baby girl you feel so good around me, pussy so good I want to scream.” He growls as he shifts his hips and slams into you harder causing your pussy to clench around him.
“Gonna cum princess, gonna cream my cock and make a mess for me,” Yoongi says as you nod frantically, your whole body tensing as you feel your high fast approaching.
“Yoongi right there fuck! Please!” You beg, not even sure what you are begging for.
Your orgasm rips through your body as you arch up from the bed and cry out his name. Your pussy clamps tightly against his cock as Yoongi bends forward to kiss you and you feel his cock twitch and empty into the condom, he can hardly thrust into you as you continue to ride out your high.
“so so good baby. You did so good.” he praises as his lips find yours and he gives you soft slow kisses, his hair falls over his face to tickle your cheeks and you grab at his shoulders desperate to feel more of him
Once you both come down Yoongi pulls out and throws the condom away. He positions himself down on the bed beside you. His hands come to scrape his hair away from his face as he stares at you with a dopey grin.
You lean in and press a small kiss to his cheek as you get up to get a towel and use the washroom.
Once you get yourself cleaned up you head back to the bedroom and let out a soft giggle. Yoongi is spread out on the bed and fast asleep. One hand is resting on his stomach and his hair is a mess and his lips are parted as he softly snores.
You inch over to the bed and use your warm washcloth to wipe around his soft cock, careful not to wake him.
Once finished you throw the covers over his body and grab a big tee shirt to sleep in as you curl up next to him.
His arms wrap around you and he buries his face in your hair. You hear a content sigh leave his lips.
Right as you are about to doze off you hear a phone vibrating again and you bite back a laugh as you snuggle into the covers and fall asleep.
TAGLIST
@take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d
@m00njinnie
@minghaosimp
@madebyjungkookie
@iammeandmeisiam
@allie-is-a-panda
285 notes
·
View notes
Text
A red thread tying you to me (Charles Leclerc)
There was something pulling you to him and Charles was ready to act on it
Note: english is not my first language. I loved the blurb and now we have a big piece too!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions the death of reader's father's and Charles' father's deaths
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"The congress is just outside of Milan, the exact city and details are in there", your colleague Lucia offered as she flickered though the pages, "I've been a couple of times before and it's really enriching, I just know you'll love the students and the department head - she was my supervisor for a couple of years".
"It sounds great", you looked at the panel information and then the travel details, "it's such a shame you can't come with me though, but I also wouldn't want to risk your little dude showing up and have me as your midwife", you chuckled as Lucia rubbed her baby bump.
"You're capable of many things, Y/N, but I would prefer if the fate of my baby and my underparts was in the hands of a professional!", she bumped your shoulder, "and the area is really nice too, I'm sure you'll find something to keep you busy during the weekend".
"I have plans, actually, I'll be fine I think", you smiled.
Like Lucia predicted, you had a great time in the conference and the guest lecture you gave was applauded and discussed for nearly an hour after you showed the last slide of the presentation, topics going back and forth until everyone had to absolutely leave the room before the next lecture began. For now, you'd get to enjoy the region, drinking some wine and taking in the views you recognised.
The park where your father used to take you didn't look too different. The slides didn't look rusty anymore, and the swing was a bright red colour as you sat on it once you didn't see any other kid around who might want to use them and let yourself feel the breeze on your face and hair as you kicked your legs in and out. Your father used to make you feel like you could touch the sky with how high he helped you go, "you're going to touch the clouds, mia piccola stella", he would say and you would laugh loudly.
You missed him every single day, but over the years, your grief allowed you remember all of the happy moments you lived with him, cherishing them close to your heart. Spending the whole weekend in Monza and attending the race was something you hadn't done without him since he passed away. The circuit was your father's favourite - "it's the fans, Y/N, there's a thrill in the air that no other circuit has - Tifosi cover the streets, they're all you can see around town and it's magical almost" he would say to you, so when you noticed the conference was in the area and coincided with the Grand Prix weekend, both you and your mother agreed you should take the opportunity.
On your way back to the hotel, you stopped by the track, wondering what the preparations for a race weekend looked like after so many years. You still followed the sport, but you never got the chance to catch this on television.
"Oh my, oh my", you heard someone say beside where you were standing, "I can't believe my eyes, it's Y/N Y/L/N".
Turning around you spotted Salvatore, one of the mechanics your father worked with. He also had kids around your age and you would often play together whenever you were both in the garage for the weekend.
"Salvatore!", you cheered, giving him a big smile after kissing each of his cheeks, "you better believe your eyes then".
"It's been so long since I've seen you last", he recalled, rubbing your back softly. You and your mother had gone to Maranello for a tribute ceremony the team had for your father - that had been the last time he saw you.
"It has been, yes - I'm sorry", you apoligised. You told the team you'd be around and so much had happened since and you only watched it through a screen instead of living it in the flesh.
"It's okay, it was the time you needed - What brought you to Monza this weekend?", he wondered as he walked inside the paddock with you, scanning his card and getting you both in.
"A work trip actually - I finished a conference yesterday and I also gave a lecture at the university", you nodded, "and my father always loved Monza", you smiled at the memory, "he knew how cliché that sounded, but he always said there wasn't a better weekend on the calendar. And I've missed the rush, too", you offered, letting the tears flow freely and accepting them even though you were in the middle of the paddock, loud noises coming from every angle as the teams prepared the finishing touches for the upcoming race.
"He's very proud of you, I'm sure", Salvatore comforted, "and everyone will be happy to see you here - the little girl with the high pigtails is a grown woman now who attends conferences and gives lectures, who would've known?", he joked as you stepped inside the garage.
"Is this little troublemaker Y/N Y/L/N?", one of the oldest mechanics said after he applied a sticker to the halo.
When your father took you to the races, everyone knew they had fun guaranteed with you, always pulling pranks and laughing loudly, "my troublemaker days are over, I'm a responsible woman now", you chuckled, giving a quick wave to everyone before greeting everyone individually.
"Do you have tickets for this weekend?", Fred asked. Even though he had just met you, it was clear to him how much you mattered to everyone who worked with your father, "we can get you a pass, I'm sure".
"I have grandstand tickets", you stated.
"Silvia!", the team principal called the woman, making her approach him and rub your arm kindly, "do we have any guest passes left?".
"Let me check", Silvia mumbled, "we have one left, actually! Charles didn't even notice he asked us to save a ticket for his mother twice - I'll get it for you, it's in the meeting room upstairs", she smiled.
"Charles will also be very happy to see you around, did you tell him you were coming?", Salvatore mentioned.
"I haven't actually - I've been really busy", you mumbled.
You met the monégasque driver when he was Scuderia Ferrari's development driver and Prema Racing driver in Formula Two, accidentally running into him in the dining area of the hospitality and ending up spending most of his free time there throughout the whole weekend.
Quickly, it became a tradition to do so whenever he was over and whenever he was done with his Formula Two duties and you happened to be at the same track.
When you stopped attending races because the memories were too painful, you lost contact, opting to react to eachother's Instagram stories every now and again and sending quick messages through the social media app.
"The boys arrive today, but they're only coming to the track tomorrow", Fred added, "you'll have plenty of time to catch up".
Charles had finally arrived to the hotel after all the flights and drives, thankful that there weren't many fans around already and he could get inside without a hitch, checking in and getting his room keys.
"Hold it, per favore!", he said to the person on the lift, dreaming of the changing from his travel outfit and the bed waiting for him. When his hand helped him inside the metal door, he couldn't believe his eyes, "Y/N?".
He could remember the last time he saw you. He had just started his first season as a Formula One driver for Alfa Romeo and you had come back to the paddock for the first race of the season like you promised you would. He sat with you whenever he had a little break, you caught up with him and his early days as a driver with a seat rather than just watching from the sidelines.
"Charles, hi!", you gasped, hugging him and feeling him squeeze your body against his.
"I- what are you doing here? Are you here for the race?", he wondered. This couldn't be a mere coincidence. He hoped it wasn't.
"I had a work trip here that coincided with this weekend, and I thought of it as a sign", you explained, "you're staying in this hotel too?".
"Yes, the team are at the one where we usually stay for the weekend, but until Thursday, I'm staying here, yes", he smiled, "Goodness, I feel like it's both been forever and like it was yesterday", he chuckled, "do you want to get a drink? I have a nice selection in my room whenever I stay", he offered.
"I'd love to, Charles", you said, hoping that the tingly feeling on your tummy mirrored Charles' own excitement at this unexpected but valued encounter, "are you sure though? You just arrived".
"No, don't worry about that! My room is... 705", he checked on the card he was handed, "so you can join me now or maybe you want to set those things down first and meet me there?", he pointed to the bag you were carrying.
"Yes, this is quite heavy actually", you blushed, "my room is on this floor, so I'll meet in your room in fifteen? I need to freshen up because I've been walking around town all day".
Leaving the elevator on your floor, Charles waved at your before the doors closed andyou headed to your door. Stepping inside, you left the totebag with the books you bought in the chair before heading to the bathroom, brushing out any tangles in your hair and splashing your face with water to freshen up.
After getting yourself ready to go, you went up to Charles' floor, knocking on the door and waiting for him.
"Come in, come in!", Charles offered after he opened the door, "I've unpacked but kept it very organised still", he chuckled as you walked inside the room. It looked the same as yours did, only a different colour pallette for the decoration.
"How have you been?", you wondered once you sat down and shared some sparkling water, neither of you really feeling like drinking anything alcoholic.
"You surely know more about me than I know about you", Charles smiled, "but it's been good, this season has been great so far, I feel like we're in a really good path and things are working well", he took a sip from his cup, "the team have done such an incredible job".
"And the driver on the car doesn't have anything to do with that?", you squinted at his ever so modest take on things.
"I suppose I do", he blushed.
"I may have not been here, but I've watched every race - minus some of the ones at daft o'clock, I only watched those when my sleep was all messed up", you joked, "you're an essential part of this team, Charles, everyone can see that so you should give yourself more credit", you touched his arm.
Even though it had been years since you last saw eachother, you hit it off immediately and it seemed like no time had passed.
"And you? What is this work trip that brought you here?", Charles nodded.
"You're not the only one who gets to travel for work, alright?", you tsked, "I had to do a presentation on a conference and then the department invited me for a lecture, nothing big".
"Who's being ever so modest now, hm? That is fantastic, mon ange!", he congratulated before he noticed the words coming out of his mouth.
"When I noticed it fell around this weekend, I told my mum and she said that I should try and dip my foot here - I've been wanting to come to race sooner but...", you trailed off.
"I get it - it's hard going to the places that remind you of them", Charles took his hand in yours and squeezed it, "he was so cherished by the team, I'm sure everyone will be very happy to see you".
"Actually, I walked to the track today so I could see it up close before the race - I hoped it wouldn't be such a big shock once I got there on Friday -, and I bumped into Salvatore", you smiled, "he let me go into the garage and I saw everyone, it was really nice", you looked up so the tears on your eyes wouldn't fall.
"I can get you a pass, let me just text Silvia!", Charles said as he got his phone from his pocket with his free hand.
"She already did", you chirped, "apparently you booked two for your mother, so they had a spare one".
"You see, a couple of years ago, my mum was too late to tell me she was coming to the race and I was out of the guest passes, so I always have one on hold for her and I sent the list with her name on it as well", he admitted, "but it seems to have turned out just fine - meant to be even".
You ended up requesting room service for the two of you for dinner, neither feeling like going out of the room after feeling so comfortable there. Conversation was steady, vulnerability was easy to show and the butterflies were happily dancing on your tummy.
"I better get to my room, then", you stated once Charles told you about what he needed to do tomorrow once he was at the track.
"I didn't mean it that way - I'm fine!", he said after doing his best attempt at containing a big yawn, "I'm fine!".
"You're tired, and frankly so am I", you admitted as you got up from the bed.
"Would you like to come with me to the track tomorrow? If you don't have other plans that is", he mumbled the last part.
"I don't - I was just going to work a little bit, but if you find me a spot in the hospitality, I'll happily take my stuff there", you smiled reassuringly as you put on your shoes and headed to the door.
"I can take you to your room", Charles got up from the bed and followed you.
"No need, my room is just downstairs", you reasoned, kissing his cheek in a silent thank you still.
"That's right - so we'll go tomorrow after breakfast?", he rested his body on the door once you opened it.
"Yes, that works for me! Good night, Charles", you smiled before walking up to the elevator.
.
Walking inside the hospitalitynwith Salvatore and the rest of the team, he was quick to show you where you could set up.
"Charles likes to spend as much time as possible with the fans and it's right about now that they start becoming more and more and they're everywhere, too", he explained as he helped you in the table on the lounge area, "there's food and coffee in there if you need anything", Salvatore smiled, "if you need anything, just ask someone".
"Thank you - this is perfect", you assured, sitting down and working on your laptop and reading some of the books you had bought.
Charles and Carlos finally arrived at the hospitality, greeting the team and talking to them for a while before they headed upstairs for a meeting.
"You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend and you were bringing her here", Carlos told Charles as he poured some coffee on a mug after the meeting.
"I don't - I haven't brought a girlfriend here", Charles quirked an eyebrow at his team-mate.
"So who is that young woman you just smiled at and are pouring coffee for after giving her the heart eyes?", it was the spanish driver's turn to raise his eyebrows.
"Oh, Y/N!", Charles smiled as he mentioned your name, "she's an old friend! Her father was a mechanic before he passed away a few years ago - the older team members have known her since she was little, everyone loves her", he mused.
"Everyone loves her - I can see that", Carlos chuckled as he followed Charles to the table.
"We don't want to interrupt or disturb you too much", Charles announced as he set the mug next to your laptop.
"It's fine, sit sit!", you encouraged as you closed the books you no longer needed to make room for them, "I'm Y/N", you told Carlos.
"I'm Carlos", he smiled back, "nice to meet you", he said before you dove into conversation, discussing anything that popped into your minds and getting to know eachother.
"Don't let her fool you into believing she has always been a responsible, put together girl because she used to steal and hide all of our tools!", Antonio, one of the engineers pointed at you after he got himself a bottle of water, "Charles knows her tricks already but you, Carlos, don't fall for that!".
"You loved it every time I was on the computers and drew on Paint! You even had one of my drawings as the background for almost an entire season!", you threw at him as he approached you, patting the top of your head protectively.
"I'd like to see that! I've only known her since she was way older", Charles pouted.
"Jealous much?", Carlos teased, his voice above a whisper as Charles seemed to get flustered.
"Is it really that obvious?", the monégasque driver mumbled once you got up to get something to eat, "I've had a crush on her since I was a development driver".
"Why have you never said anything? She seems like she really cares about you too", Carlos mused as he thought to a few moments before where you too gqve him heart eyes. He would have to be blind to not notice it, and even then the energy between you too would still be felt.
"The timing wasn't right, I guess - her father passed away almost right after as I became a driver for Alfa Romeo, and she hasn't been in the paddock since. We have texted every now and again over the years and now she happened to be here for the race too", Charles offered.
"I'd say you should take a shot - trust me, she likes you back", Carlos patted Charles' shoulder after getting up, watching you go back to the table with a big smile on your face.
.
After Charles took pole position in qualifying, the team stayed a bit longer for the debrief, going over a few points of the discussion and the changes they still needed to make before the race.
"Y/N! We're having dinner at one of our favourite restaurants in town and I'm counting you in, okay?", Charles said as he spotted you in the garage, followed by Andrea, who had been keeping you company along with his brothers, Charlotte and Pascale.
"Your family is here for you, Charles, I don't want to intrude", you said as you got up, unaware of the Leclerc matriarch behind you.
"Chérie, of course you won't be intruding - we'd love to have you there!", Pascale chirped in.
"Well, in that case...!", you smiled, "just tell me where I should go and at what time, or are we going straight there?", you wondered.
"I was thinking we could go straight there if that's okay with you - you can can come with me and Andrea can ride with my brothers", Charles suggested, "unless you need to go back to the hotel", he quickly scrambled.
"No, I'm fine! Unless this outfit is not restaurant appropriate", you muttered as you looked down. Against all odds, you managed to not get any food stains on your dress. It was a midi skirt cut, flowy to allow your body to feel cool considering the warm Italian day.
"It's fine - you're fine, you look beautiful!", Charles was quick to assure you.
"Good, that's good then", you smiled before excusing yourself to go and get your things.
"You have to tell her, Charles - your affection is no use to either of you if you keept it in here", Pascale tapped her son's chest.
.
"Y/N", Charles called you before he had to go and get ready for the race, "I have something for you - we do", he said as some of the mechanics, including Salvatore, followed him.
"Oh, what is it?", you smiled.
"We commented with some guys back at the factory that you were here with is this weekend and they found something we thought you'd like to have", Salvatore said as he handed you a bag.
Looking inside, you noticed an old Ferrari cap and some embroidered lettering on the side, recognising it immediately. When you were a teenager, you decided to try different hobbies and hand embroidery was the one that stuck the most, so much so that on one of the race weekends, you embroidered caps for everyone on the team that asked you.
"My wife remembered the one I have at home and then the guys at Maranello found your father's and apparently one you did for Charles' as well", Salvatore offered as you took them both out.
"Dad always said he had plenty of embroidered things at home and this one was the one he had to travel with him", you chuckled as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling Charles soothingly rub your back.
"I remember getting this and loving it - I thought I had lost it!", Charles said, unaware if how close he was pulling you together so he could get a peek at the old caps.
"There's some loose string here", you chuckled, wiping the tears and fiddling with the red thread, "I didn't know how to properly tie it at the start, I kept losing it - I think I even glued it down at some point. Thank you for bringing this out", you smiled.
"Would you mind if I wore this for the driver's parade?", Charles asked you.
"I was planning on wearing my dad's while I watched the race", you offered, testing the fabric and placing it on your head before doing the same with Charles, fixing it on his head and looking up at him.
You never got over how handsome he was. The little scar on his cheek, his mole, the smile that never failed to make you smile, his beautiful green eyes. His kindness, his gentleness, his talent - there wasn't a way to deny how much you liked it. How much you liked him.
"We will be matching then!", Charles squeezed you against him before going to his driver's room.
Only when Charles was headed to take P1 on the grid did he hand the cap back to Salvatore and put on his helmet, giving you a wink before he left.
"How are you feeling?", Pascale asked as she sat next to you to watch the race. Over the last couple of days, she had grown close to you, not only because you had captured her son's heart and she wanted to get to know you, but also because Charles had told her how emotionally charged it was for you to be at the track, in Monza nonetheless.
"It's a lot", you admitted, "everyone has been so kind and warm, so all of the heavy feelings have been slowly infiltrating the good ones and it's been easier to deal with them like that", you blinked away a few tears.
"I get it", Pascale nodded, "losing someone is not easy, and I can't imagine what it feels like for you - the boys and I talk about my late husband every now and again and it gets easier to talk about it, I think that's what it is anyway".
"Yes, definitely like that. My mum and I have reached the point where we don't cry at every mention - despite what you might have noticed this weekend", you chuckled.
"It's emotional, chérie - I, for one, always cry whenever the boys achieve their goals. Hervé isn't here to see them, but I know he knows, and the boys know how proud he is of them", Pascale smiled, keeping some tears at bay too.
"You raised amazing young men, don't doubt that", you let out. At this point, you were sure she had noticed or had at least an inkling. As any mechanic for the red team who knew you since you were a kid would say, you were never a good liar - anytime you said you didn't touch something, they knew to look in your backpack first.
"Thank you, dear", she added, "you know, Charles is quite careful in who he lets in, but he's never been good at hiding how much he cares about someone and I can tell he cares a great deal about you".
"I care a lot about him too", you smiled before you were handed a pair of headphones each with the race about to start.
When Charles successfully kept the cars behind him away with a good gap, you clapped and watched the remaining laps number get smaller and smaller until there was only the current lap left.
Charlotte held your hand together with hers as you watched Charles be the first driver to see the checkered flag and when Xavi yelled "And P1!" into the radio, you did your happy dance, not having a care in the world about what others thought as you watched the Tifosi erupt in cheer.
"He did it! He did it!", Pascale clapped for her son, Arthur hugging her while Lorenzo did the same with his girlfriend while you softly touched your father's embroidered name on your cap with your fingers.
Running up to Parc Fermé, you stood in the sea of red, waiting for him to come back and hug them.
"You did so well, congratulations!", you said as you pulled Charles for a hug.
"Had my good luck charm with me!", he smiled back, kissing your cheek as he took advantage of you being shielded by the mechanics and engineers.
The team celebratory dinner was going really well, everyone happy with how the weekend panned out with both drivers on the podium and enjoying the meal on the restaurant's outside patio.
"If you guys want dessert, they're going to set them out on that table and you can grab as much as you like", Fred spread the message as you could see all kinds of sweet foods being brought out, a pudding catching your eye along with some raspberries.
You and Charles got the dessert plates and served yourselves, noticing the staff was already clearing up the tables, meaning you'd have to move to the bar area, many people opting to skip dessert and get some drinks instead.
"You can see the stars so clearly tonight", you mused as you looked up at the sky, setting your plate on the high table.
"My father always said that the stars did shine brighter here, and tonight the sky is very clear", Charles hummed in agreement, looking at your face. The moonlight and the dim lighting for the lamps and fairy lights illuminated all your features perfectly - your smile as you looked up formed the dimples on your cheeks, your eyes that were a tiny bit squinty and the way your whole body seemed relaxed.
The goosebumps on your arms caught his eye though, "here, have this", Charles said as he offered you the cardigan he had carried around all night since according to him his mother made him do it because it would be cold.
"Thanks", you smiled as you pulled the sleeves and folded them around your wrist so they would fit better, "this is really comfy, I might steal this if you don't ask for it back", you joked.
"I don't mind if you keep it, you have had my heart all these years", Charles stated. There it was.
"What?", you faced him, heart beating fast inside your chest.
"It's true, I've had a crush on you since I first met you, and these past couple of days have been amazing, and I can't believe it took me all these years to realize how I truly feel about you Y/N", he told you, no stutter or sign of regret on his face.
"I haven't been around, really, it's my fault", you fiddled with your thumbs before looking at him again, "but I can't lose you again".
"You never lost me, amour", he smiled as his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, his hand cupping your cheek your mouth pressed on his, ignoring everything and everyone around you.
Interrupting the kiss for air, Charles giggled as you hid your face in his neck once you heard the cheers and whistles, your lashes tickling him as his arms circled your waist and pulled you closer to him.
"He wins inside the track and outside of it, Charles Leclerc, P1 to Y/N's heart!", Carlos shouted before whistling again.
"Just so you know, I want an invite to your wedding!", Salvatore pointed his finger at you, "I still remember when you invited me for your wedding with Vettel!".
"You and Seb?", Charles chuckled once you pulled away from his neck.
"Sebastian was my favourite when I was little", you giggled, hiding your face on Charles' chest this time, "when he was back in RedBull still, I asked my father to ask him if he could take a photo with me and I cherished that for so many years - it was my most prized possession!".
"I can't promise you Seb, but I can promise you the very best of me", Charles said as he kissed the top of your head.
#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#f1 fluff#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader
262 notes
·
View notes
Note
May I request a supervillian who breaks their villian out of prison, and they do it in a flashy way?
Thank you
"Bit over the top, don't you think?"
There were a number of things that the villain could have pointed out.
The fact that the majority of the prison had been smothered in a rainbow glitter sort of concoction so sharp that it could pierce through the average guard's shoe. The fact that the whole place had been rigged to loudly play the supervillain's very own rendition of 'I want to break free' through the intercom system. The fact that, as they stepped out into the fresh air, a small jet was in the process of inking the supervillain's and villain's initials in the sky in a smoky black love heart.
It was difficult to manage any of it through the weird lump in their throat.
The supervillain had come for them.
"Eh," the supervillain shrug. "I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. Just wait until someone is someone is stupid enough to bleed on the glitter."
The villain raised an eyebrow.
"Boom," the supervillain said.
"...Huh."
The supervillain took their hand, oh so gently, leading them forwards to where the getaway car stood waiting. The courtyard was conspicuously quiet. Appallingly empty for such a high-profile breakout.
The villain didn't ask what the supervillain had done to everyone. Maybe everyone was just hiding it out until the supervillain was gone, in the wise way one might hide when Godzilla cruised past the office windows. It definitely seemed better not to ask.
"And what," the villain's heart hammered, as they slid gingerly into the backseat, "exactly was the idea? Just out of curiosity."
"That they can't take you, of course," the supervillain replied, as if it were oh so simple, so obvious, and not at all devastating. "That you're mine."
They followed the villain in and shut the door. They waved at the driver to go.
Warmth flushed through the villain.
They glanced back at the no-longer grey building where they thought they might just rot forever.
The supervillain had come for them.
"Huh," they managed. Their voice cracked.
"Do you think they got the message?" the supervillain asked, softly.
The villain glanced back, to find the supervillain already watching them - gaze intent. They still held the villain's hand, feather-light, thumb caressing where the villain's knuckles were beginning to bruise. As the villain looked on, the supervillain pressed the villain's hands to their lips in a kiss.
I'll come for you. Don't worry, I'll always come for you.
"Yeah." The villain allowed themselves to bury their face in their supervillain's neck, to melt into their beautiful monster. "I think they got it."
"Good."
The supervillain held them close all the way home.
#villain x villain#supervillain#villains#writing#story#short story#ficlet#writeblr#creative writing#writing snippet#story snippet
215 notes
·
View notes
Text
Currently thinking about a mafia au where the straw hats end up taking Sanji from the Vinsmokes as a hostage or for collateral. But because they know Sanji is hardly involved in the actual Vinsmoke business and aren't complete assholes they keep him in a nice safe house and are honestly pretty kind to him.
This is genuinely the best he's been treated in like over a decade. So he does everything he can to be good, he follows every order Luffy gives and is always on his best behavior. It weirds the straw hats out of course. Because this guy is supposed to be their prisoner and he's like the sweetest person they've ever met.
Sanji looks and acts softer than his brothers, and for some reason he's like, always smiling? It puts Zoro on edge. Any time he has to watch the guy he's just sitting at a window with a smile on his face or he's cooking for everyone. He seems.. too happy for someone who's force to be away from their family and the outside world for over a month. After a while he decides to ask what it is that he's so happy about.
"This place has windows." Is all he says .
"Most buildings do, Cook." Zoro watches the man go still for a moment. "You not used to bein in a place with windows?"
Sanji turns away from him, busying himself with whatever he has on the stove. But after a second, he shakes his head. It makes something in Zoro's chest tighten, he wonders how exactly Sanji lived before this.
"You let me cook too." Sanji whispers, it's probably the quietest Zoro's ever heard him.
#zosan#sanji#zoro#one piece#mafia au#ayo someone should write this#i really should start focusing on the stuff i'm actually supposed to writing#but i want to write this down so i don't forget later#cause maybe i'll write it
217 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
teagohinthedark
A Great Classic Gay
eastsussexc
Need academic writing
kittenfire19
firekitten19
explainingsongs
Explaining Songs to my Toddler
honggygtnd123vn-blog
Kiến thức