#(sorry for planting a flower on your head) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

murdrdocs · 2 months

Text

venus fly

description. the pollen that sprayed in LUKE CASTELLAN's face earlier this morning has some really weird effects. not that he's complaining.

a continuation of this drabble

includes. sex pollen SUGGESTIVE CONTENT 18+, accidental drugging, loser!luke, best friend!reader, demeter!reader, implied oral (f and m receiving), slightly perv!luke, aftercare almost nonexistent

wc: 4.5k+

a/n: the long awaited sex pollen fic. title from venus fly by grimes. no explicit smut ahead. artwork credit unknown.

Your shirt is fitting you really well.

Your lips are moving, you’re saying something to Luke, he assumes it’s likely at least a little bit important, but he can only focus on how well your shirt is fitting.

Tight enough over your bust—Luke figures you’re wearing a sports bra for capture the flag today since he sees no bra lines, but the bra creates a nice shape for your tits, so he doesn’t need the lines to entertain him.

“Did you get a new shirt?”

You stop whatever you were saying to look down at your chest. You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you fix Luke with a look of disappointment.

“Wha–? It’s an older one. All of my others were dirty.” Your bosom is covered, but Luke is still staring. It’s like he cannot peel his eyes away. Though, he hasn’t tried. At least, not until you scold him.

“Will you stop ogling me while I’m trying to talk to you?”

His reply is earnest. “Wait, shit, yeah. ‘m sorry I don't know what's going on…”

You stare at him, your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted. Luke can’t help but fix his eyes there next. You’re wearing chapstick, or maybe lip gloss. Something spread over your lips that creates a nice sheen that makes him want to lick it off like icing on a treat.

“It’s okay …” Your words aren’t that convincing but you drop your arms and start speaking again. This time, Luke takes in at least a dozen words.

Really, he should have known what was wrong with him. The same way he should have known that eventually, his insistent nosiness would come back to bite him in the rear.

You’d always warned him of such, telling him that “it’s charming until it’s not”, when you would boot him out of the greenhouse. (Truthfully, Luke had codependency issues but if he never really admitted it to himself, then he wouldn’t have to admit it to you, either.)

You were spending more time in the greenhouse lately. Which has never been a problem for Luke. But your newest project, something completely unknown to Luke as it was apparently a Demeter kid only project, was taking away his time with you. You could barely spare a half hour to go by the lake. You traded chores with one of your siblings for more time in the greenhouse, leaving Luke to work with someone not nearly as entertaining as you.

The only time he got to really see you was early in the morning and late at night. And if he was losing his time to something else—or, gods forbid, someone else—he wanted to know what it was.

So right when you were leaving the greenhouse early that morning, Luke snuck in after you. He searched around, trying to find evidence of you anywhere, and when he did find it, he found his demise there, too.

Sitting next to your favorite pen was a potted plant. It resembled a venus fly trap, but immensely bigger. There were a cluster of them, some with large flowers growing out of the opened mouths. Luke stupidly had the urge to provoke the plant, driven by the desire to see them in action.

He took your favorite pen, and gently stuck it inside of the mouth.

When a puff of yellow smoke hit him square in the face, he hadn’t thought much of it.

When he stumbled out of the greenhouse with a fog in his head and dizziness, he thought it to be a single side effect.

When he started to feel warmer than usual, he thought it to be an effect of the insistent summer heat.

It’s not until he’s waking up on the ground that he really begins to worry.

His eyes open and he is immediately greeted with the sun attempting to blind him. He squints and raises a hand over his face, shielding both the sun and whoever stands over him.

When they speak, he doesn’t need his eyes to tell who he is joined by.

“Jesus, Castellan, if you didn’t scare the shit outta me just now I would be bragging about beating you.”

Luke groans and rolls onto his side. He’s still wearing his battle armor over his clothes and he suddenly feels uncomfortable, like everything has been made wrong or maybe like he has outgrown them. His camp shirt is too tight against his body, pressing the sweat back into his skin and not allowing for any breathing room. His shorts feel awkward in the crotch, as do his briefs. And his shoes are suffocating his feet.

There is nothing he wants more in this moment than to peel the armor and clothes off of his body and run down to the water. But he doesn’t know if the game has ended yet, nor does he know how long he has been out.

There are many unanswered questions he has, but the first one he starts with is, “Why are you here?”

He hears you scoff and knows you have rolled your eyes.

“We were sparring and you just passed out. I wasn’t just going to leave you here.”

He finally looks at you. His eyesight has readjusted to the light from the star above, so it stings just a bit less when he peers one eye open.

You add on, “I didn’t know if you had spontaneously died or something! And now that I know you’re fine…” You bend down and grab your helmet, situating it back on your head and standing at attention over Luke.

He needs to stand. The last thing he remembers is fighting you and he's never lost a fight to you. In his mind, he hasn’t surrendered, and you haven’t defeated him, so he needs to stand.

He tries to, he really does, but his knees get weak and as soon as he’s up, his head spins and he’s right back down.

You swear just before your knees are hitting the earth and you’re kneeling beside him.

Luke can feel you pressing the back of your hand against his forehead, he can hear you asking him a few questions, he can see your wide eyes staring into his heavy ones, but he can’t respond. He can’t do anything but worry about the bile rising in his throat, or focus on the shining water just behind you.

He doesn’t realize that he has begun moving until the bottom of his pants feel heavy with the weight of water.

When he’s in to his thighs, he collapses and lets the ripples wash over his body.

You don’t follow him until after him for a few moments, and when you do, you stand still at the shoreline. You let Luke soak the heat and sweat off of his skin as best as the circumstances allow, and you only speak to him once he’s standing right in front of you in soaked clothes and wet armor.

“What’d you take?”

At first, he’s not playing dumb. It just takes a moment for your words to plant in his mind. Then he plays dumb.

“Take? I don’t know what you mean.”

You don’t entertain his ditziness and instead begin making your case.

“You’re clearly on something, Luke. You’re sweating even though it’s as cool as it usually is. Your pupils are wide and your eyes go from restless to barely open. You keep fidgeting and every few minutes you twitch. And you’re standing here, talking to me, instead of helping the red team secure another win.”

Luke hadn’t noticed most of his symptoms. It’s not like he can notice anything other than the thoughts in his mind, especially when they give him images of your tits bouncing in his face and audible hallucinations of what you would sound like moaning his name.

He decides then and there that capture the flag doesn’t matter. Not when he has what he wants, the true glory, right in front of him.

He heard you, he processed your words, but the sight of your lips distracts him once more and prevents him from instantly responding. He stares instead, watching your mouth through lazy blinks.

He doesn’t even consider responding until you tut.

“If you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine. I’ll go get Maria L to take care of you then.”

Luke's eyes widen. Maria L is an excellent healer but she also has a pestering crush on Luke, one that encourages her to touch Luke with grazes that border on harassment and lack any professionalism.

“No! Not her.” Luke would feel bad about his reaction to the girls name if he didn’t have such a one track mind.

Your eyebrows raise to tell him to continue. He does so begrudgingly.

He picks at his fingernails and his cuticles until dead skin peels back to reveal blood. But the sting on his thumb doesn’t compare to the dull pain residing in his groin.

He knows that admitting the truth to you would open the possibility of criticism. His current … illness aside, you would never let him live down the day his nosiness actually reaped consequences. He briefly considers accepting defeat, walking away with his tail tucked between his legs, and taking control of the growing boner on his own.

He might be generally inexperienced in these situations, but even he knows that his own fist wouldn’t compare to even the slightest bit of attention from you.

He opens his mouth. “I went in the greenhouse.”

Your eyes widen as if Luke had confessed to committing a cardinal sin, and it’s then that Luke begins to really worry about himself.

“Did you …?” You don’t even have to finish your sentence before he nods. “Luke! You fucking-“

Not really in the mood for your chastising, Luke holds one hand up. He is able to silence you for only a second before you’re slapping his hand away. You’re yelling at him, both for trying to rudely shut you up, and for doing the one thing you told him not to do.

He sits and listens, waiting not-so-patiently for you to tire yourself out. He thought that point would come sooner than it does, but he’s sure that at least two minutes have passed and you’re showing no signs of stopping.

He rolls his eyes, he furrows his eyebrows, and he tries to discreetly adjust the boner in his cargos, but according to you, Luke has never been discreet a day in his life. He has never believed in your so-called ability to see right through him until your eyes pointedly drift to his crotch with his hand still attached to it.

Your insistent rambling ends unfinished. You blink, you don’t say anything. And then:

“Oh.”

At this point, he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. You fill the silence for him.

“Oh, Luke. I told you not to go in there because …”

His eyebrows lift. “Because what?”

You take a breath. “The plant, the Venus Fly, the pollen is an aphrodisiac.”

Luke knows what an aphrodisiac is, he isn’t dumb, but he still asks for clarification. And when you explain, he asks you to dumb it down. Even then, he blinks at you. Because you were right. His nosiness caused this.

He’s considering pitying himself whenever you suggest the one proposed solution, the only solution the Demeter and Apollo kids have been workshopping together ever since acquiring the plant from another kid's quest.

And when your solution comes, Luke determines that there is no way he could pity himself whenever he is in the position he’s been dreaming of for literal years.

He might not have envisioned this particular scenario, as his fantasies usually entailed the two of you alone in a bed not at Camp Half-Blood. But something about this makes him enjoy it more. Out in nature, in the open with many possibilities of being caught surrounding you both. His lips on yours, his lips surrounding yours, as he kisses you messily.

There is something perverse about the idea of getting to fuck you out in the open, gods willing. He didn’t think it was something he would be into, but it’s all he can think about when he’s rutting against you.

He breathes you in. “I’ve …” he takes a moment, rubbing his stiff cock against your crotch once more. He groans as he speaks. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long.”

You hum, your hands fisting the part of the back of Luke’s shirt that isn’t covered by his armor.

“Luke,” you start and your voice is already full of hesitance. Luke isn’t sure he wants to hear what you have to say, but he knows it would be wrong not to. He busies himself with kissing your neck and under your jaw.

“It’s the pollen talking,” you tell him. “You’re not yourself. You’re basica-“ He bites down onto where he can feel your pulse thrumming under your skin. You gasp, loud and broken, before continuing. “You’re basically drugged.”

Somewhere deep down Luke knows that there’s logic in your statement, there usually is logic in your statements, besides during those times where you would say whatever came to your mind in the late hours of the night. But he doesn’t care, logic be damned.

He knows that he’s felt this way—or at least in the range of this way—for a while now. The pollen has just given him the confidence to act on his desires.

While the pollen has given him confidence, it hasn’t given him experience.

He sloppily kisses along your neck and jaw, not necessarily knowing what he’s doing but he knows he’s expected to suck at one point, so he does. He just wants to please.

You don’t react much to his lips on your skin, so he lifts a hand and slides it under your shirt and armor. The chest piece doesn’t allow for much maneuvering and Luke frowns against your skin before he separates completely to pull the armor off himself.

He knows the clasps on the metal as well as he knows clasps on his favorite pair of pants. Yet his hands fumble. Excitement and the effects of the pollen, he reasons. But his face becomes warm from something other than the two, something he would rather not fully acknowledge. Especially not when he’s about to get his dick wet in the warmth of the one person he’s wanted since he was old enough to actually understand sex.

You ask Luke if he wants your help with your usual teasing tone, but Luke doesn’t take kindly to it. As soon as he has the chest piece off, he has your shirt following it, and then his lips are back on yours.

If even possible, this kiss is heavier. Firmer. Meaner.

He still doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he calls onto the one other time he’d made out with someone. He remembers how he had been instructed to use his tongue and lick into his partner's mouth (a boy from the Ares cabin who stopped coming to camp a year ago). He had been kind to Luke when he didn’t know what he was doing, but now Luke feels like he needs to prove himself. He wants to prove himself. He wants to impress you.

What results is a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s messy, sloppy, and slobbery.

Luke likes it that way.

You pull away first.

Not much has been done, but you look a mess. Your lips are coated in saliva, probably yours and Luke’s, and pride floods his chest. You look flushed, too, and Luke sincerely hopes he’ll be able to amplify the emotion on your face soon thereafter.

“Slow down. Luke.” Your words are soft, gentle, and kind. Just like you. Just like your hands that card through his still-wet hair.

He winces, and not from the way your fingers snag on a cluster of curls. Wrongly assuming the cause of his sound, you apologize and smooth the patch of hair down. Your hands instead slide down Luke’s shoulders and he tries not to frown at the change.

“Sorry,” he admits. He gnaws on his bottom lip, already missing the feeling of yours, and finds himself continuing. “I haven’t really made out with anyone since …”

You nod, lips pulling up in the corners. “Theo?” Luke nods. “I know. We tell each other everything, remember?”

Not everything.

No one else is privy to the dreams Luke has about you. He has never told you, or anyone else, about all of the times he would fist his cock and chant your name in the showers late at night. In fact, when you would ask what took him so long, he would make up a lie about taking advantage of the hot water and solitude. While it was only a white lie, it was a lie nonetheless.

The innocent and naive look on your face as you accepted his lie by omission only made Luke’s cock harder.

You’re staring up at him now with a look different enough, but his reaction is the same. Your eyes hold interest, intrigue, a little bit of mischief, perhaps. You look sure of yourself, like you’ve done this and in this capacity multiple times before. But Luke knows about your experience, nearly the exact same as his save for a few details he wishes to erase.

When you had dished on your sexual history, Luke felt jealousy stirring deep in his stomach. He had been with other people, a guy and a girl, but that was in hopes of getting his mind off of you. Meanwhile, you had been with other people out of personal interest and not self-deluded necessity.

Either way, your experience is almost the same as Luke’s, and knowing so makes it easier for him to take the lead.

He kisses you again but he tries to go slower. Everything in him screams for him to speed up, to take you how he pleased, but he breathes and pushes the thoughts aside.

Taking it slow pays off when you work the armor off of Luke’s torso (without much difficulty at all), and then slide your hands under his orange shirt to rest your palms against his abs. The feeling of your skin against his is striking, even though the touch isn’t much at all. Pathetically, Luke is affected by the meaning more than the physicality.

“What do you feel now?” You ask him after pulling away from his lips.

Luke’s immediate reflex is to say “horny”.

You roll your eyes and absentmindedly scratch your nails against his abs. When he keens, he figures he’s hornier than even he thought.

“I mean other than that. Your skin is warm so I’m assuming you’re still nearing a fever, at least. Are you lightheaded? Nauseous? Anything?”

Luke feels like he’s been slapped in the face. You were asking about his symptoms like a healer. Like an Apollo kid. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were only touching him to gauge his temperature. Were you only doing this—kissing him—to keep his fever warded off? Did you even want this?

Rationally, he knows that you would do anything to help him. You’re his best friend, after all. But he wants you to want this, otherwise it would mean nothing. Otherwise, he wouldn’t even begin to hold a torch to your previous partners. He would be the one you laid with out of moral obligation and not interest.

He hadn’t been feeling nauseous before, but his throat starts to construct as if preparing to trigger his gag reflex.

He hasn’t responded and you’re looking at him inquisitively.

“Nauseous,” he starts. “Hot. Horny. Are you only doing this to keep me from dying?” The question messily tumbles out without him noticing.

You run your tongue over your teeth. “Yes. But there’s also personal benefits involved.”

Usually, Luke could decipher your maze-like answers. But he’s so hot and worked up and lacking an immense amount of patience.

“So you want to fuck me?”

Luke doesn’t continue his work until you respond.

“Yes, Luke. I want to fuck you.”

He has your shirt over your head in less than a minute. The button on your shorts is undone 30 seconds after that. He has completely forgotten about your plea to go slower, but even if he did remember he wouldn’t be able to comply.

He needs to feel you. All of you. Or else he might collapse then and there.

His hands run over your shoulders and torso gratefully, only appearing as the opposite whenever he runs into your bra (a sports bra, as he had assumed). As soon as he has the straps pulled down, he latches his lips onto the newly revealed skin.

Distantly, Luke thinks he would have liked to have been able to lay you back. He wants to see you laid out before him while you’re completely at his mercy. Luckily, he has learned to adapt. He has been dealt unfavorable cards in his life, and turned them into something worthy. He plans to do the same here and now.

As he sinks to his knees, he pulls your shorts down with him. You don’t have to be told to step out of them, but as soon as you do, you’re looking down at Luke with your eyebrows raised.

“Are you sure? I haven’t showered since yesterday and I’m really sweaty.”

Luke doesn’t pay any mind to your words. As you’re speaking, he already has his fingers forced under the elastic fabric of your panties.

“I’m sure.”

He pulls the fabric down.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

He pulls your leg over his shoulder, bringing your cunt straight to his face.

He has never gotten this far with someone before, he has never even seen examples of what to do in this position. He could back out. He could set your leg back down and only get his dick wet. But you smell so good, and you’re practically glistening in the sun, and you’re staring down at him expectantly so Luke slowly leans forward, sticks his tongue out, and gets to work.

‎

By the time Luke feels even a bit satiated, the sun has started to descend to its destination below the horizon, creating a soft blue hue over the sky.

You’re panting under him, your back and arms painted with dirt, just a bit smudged on your cheek and a few flecks of it strewn throughout your hair. Your stomach rises and falls with your breaths, drawing Luke’s attention to the fresh cum laying there. There’s some dried cum on your back, and just the smallest smudge at the corner of your lips. Luke doesn’t think much before he licks his thumb and wipes away the white crust from your mouth.

He sits back on his haunches and sighs with his head tilted to the sky. His hands rest on his thighs with an exorbitant amount of self control, as he desperately wishes to wrap his fingers around his semi-erect cock and jerk himself to another orgasm.

He thinks that most of the pollen has left his system by now, and at this point the desire he feels is natural. It’s the same desire he has felt for you for a while now, only amplified by the memory of what the real thing was like with you. It’s addicting. Luke truly cannot get enough, even though he has been out here with you for hours. Somewhere along the way, one of the teams won capture the flag. Luke wasn’t sure which one, but the triumphant yells in the distance alerted him of a victory. Somewhere between his third orgasm and your fourth, the conch for lunch blew off into the distance, but Luke had absolutely no concern for satisfying his physical hunger. He was too focused on the sight in front of him.

When he brings his vision back down, you’re sitting with your legs pulled in your chest and your arms wrapped around your calves.

“We should clean up and go have dinner,” you tell him, your voice weak and hoarse.

Fear strikes Luke still. You’re avoiding his eyes, staring down at the dirt, and speaking in a soft voice.

He shuffles closer to you, reaches out to touch you, and then he reconsiders. You take a deep breath, and Luke rests his hand on your elbow.

“Okay. Are you okay? I know that was a lot.”

You look at him and Luke feels a bit better, because while your eyes are a bit distant, you don’t look upset.

“I’ll be okay. ‘m just tired. But what about you, are you fine?”

There is still that nagging in the back of his head, telling him to take you one more time, but his logical part knows that you wouldn’t be able to handle it. He knows that you’ve had enough. Which means he, too, has had enough.

“I’m good.” He leans forward and presses a kiss into your hairline. He stands, pulls his boxers onto his lower half, and offers you his hand. “C’mon.”

You let Luke help you redress and hold his hand as he leads you back to camp the back way. You two come out of the forest right by the showers, where Luke tells you to wait while he does his best to sneakily run back to the cabins. He grabs himself a change of clothes, then sneaks into the Demeter cabin where he does the same for you.

He knows that he has just seen all of your intimate parts for hours on end, but holding your panties in his hand makes his ears redden. Blood threatens to rush down to his crotch but he fills his head with the most undesirable images until he reaches you.

Two showers are started, you and Luke stand back to back, and Luke enters his shower.

When the bathroom is covered in steam and you’ve both used the remnants of the hot water, you and Luke redress and reach the dining pavilion just in time for dinner.

He falls into the routine of a caring counselor easily. He answers insistent questions about his previous whereabouts with a passing “I was sick” that earns just enough sympathy and stops the questions all together. A few times he looks across the way to see you already looking at him. Instead of dropping his eyes or teasing you with the slyest middle finger he could muster, he smiles at you just slyly enough to not raise suspicion.

When offerings have been given, and Luke feels full in multiple ways, he finds you at the bonfire and sits with his leg flushed to yours.

He had just begun to think that all of the pollen was out until you rested your hand on his knee and he felt a jump in his stomach.

Goddamn it.

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #celeste writes pjo #loser!luke

2K notes · View notes

scuderiahoney · 4 months

Text

In From The Rain

Oscar Piastri x plant nerd!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Oscar’s looking for an easy to care for houseplant. You have just the solution. Check out the moodboard here!

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: none

The greenhouse is quiet in the early morning. It’s one of your favorite things. Before the customers come in, looking for flowers for their porch or vegetable plants for their gardens, it’s just you and the plants and the sun streaming in through the glass. So when somebody interrupts your morning solitude, you’re not exactly happy about it.

Sure, you’re technically open, but nobody ever gets here this early. You’re watering plants in your rain boots, a mug of coffee in your hand, when the front door swings open. You turn to look, the noise startling you.

The man who walks in looks sheepish when his eyes meet yours. He ducks under a hanging basket, nearly trips over your garden hose. His cheeks flush red. You’d be more irritated with his presence if he wasn’t being so cute about it.

“Sorry, the- the sign said open,” he says, backing towards the door.

“You’re fine. We are open,” you affirm, flicking off the sprayer before you drown the petunias in front of you. “I was just surprised to see someone in here so early.”

He laughs. It’s a nice sound. Almost as nice a sound as his voice, with an Australian accent. He stops backing away. You should probably point out that he’s standing in a puddle, but you’re not sure if that’s really your place.

“Can I help you find something?” You ask.

He takes a step forward. A thick band of sunlight shines down on the top of his head, like a halo. He brushes his floppy hair from his face.

“No, that’s okay. You’re busy, I’ll just have a look around,” he says.

You nod. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

You turn back to the flower trays in front of you. They’ll need pruning, soon. And some of the hanging baskets are getting a bit unruly- it’ll likely be time to put them on sale in the next few days, to open up space for new plants. You can hear the man walking around behind you, peering at the plants. His footsteps are hesitant, and when you look, he has his hands held behind his back. He leans close to read the signs, brows tightly wound.

He obviously has no idea what he’s looking for.

You put the hose away and set your nearly empty coffee down at your workstation in the back of the greenhouse. Then you make your way back up to the front, where he’s standing near the succulents.

“Sure you don’t want help?” You ask.

He looks up with a sheepish grin. “Is it that obvious that I’ve got no idea what I’m doing?”

“A bit,” you say, and he laughs again. “That’s okay, though. It’s what I’m here for. What are you looking for?”

He stands up straight, eyes dancing over the greenhouse. “So. I’ve been told my apartment is boring. A friend suggested a plant to liven up the space.”

You nod. A tale as old as time. He’ll either kill the plant within a week or fill his whole place with them.

“But I’m gone a lot for work,” he says. “Like, a lot. So I need something that won’t wilt the second I’m gone, you know?”

You nod. “Does your apartment get good light?”

He laughs. “I don’t know what good light means.”

“Which direction do your windows face?”

“South,” he says, confidently. “Google said that was good. Right?”

You fight a laugh. He’s a bit adorable. Trying very hard to get it right. Like this is a test with right and wrong answers.

“Yeah, south facing is great.” You gesture towards the succulents. “You could get a succulent. They can go weeks without watering, but they need lots of light.”

He nods in understanding and purses his lips. “I thought these were cactuses. Or cacti?”

“Close,” you tell him, and he smiles again. “Cacti are the ones with the spikes.”

He nods in understanding. He crouches down, then, eye levels with the little plants. Your heart is melting. You scuff one of your rain boots against the ground. You could stand here and watch the way his long eyelashes flutter as he blinks all day, but that would be creepy and you have a job you’re supposed to be doing.

“How do I know which one to get?” He says, quietly. “Like… there are so many different kinds.”

Your face breaks out into a huge grin. He’s so endearing. “I think you’ll know when you see it.”

He appears at the front cash register ten minutes later, a succulent in hand. It’s a little one, the perfect starter plant. He’s eyeing the decorative pots next to you, brows furrowed again.

“Those are too big for that plant,” you tell him, and he breathes out a sigh. “There are smaller ones on the other side of the display.”

He moves to look. You hear him shuffling, hear him pick up pots and then set them down. Then he appears again, a little pot with black and white checkerboard print on it in his other hand.

“Perfect,” you say softly. “Have you got potting soil?”

He clears his throat. “Um. No, but I’ve got a courtyard at my apartment with a garden… but I’m sensing from the look on your face that that won’t do.”

You roll your eyes playfully. Then you reach under the counter and grab one of the small sample bags of potting soil you keep on hand.

“Here. On the house.” You say. “So you can put that plant in the pot.”

“Wow. Thanks,” he says. He sets the other items down on the counter. “Thanks for all your help, actually.”

“Just doing my job,” you say with a shrug.

You bag the items carefully, making sure the plant won’t be squished. You put a care instruction sheet in the bag, too. Then you slide it to him with a smile.

“There’s a care sheet in there that should help. Enjoy your new plant,” you say. “I hope it works out.”

“Me too,” he says.

He leaves, then, and you’re left with your quiet greenhouse once again. It’s odd. Usually you breathe a sigh of relief after a customer leaves. But this time, you almost want him to come back.

…..

Two weeks later, you’re back at your workstation re-potting a sad looking philodendron. You look up from it when you hear the bell over the front door ring. The watering is already done, the hose put away, so there’s nothing for the man to trip over this time. But it is the same guy, and he ducks under the hanging basket the same way. You should maybe move it, but he seems to be the only one who’s had an issue with it. You stand up, wiping the dirt from your hands on your apron.

“You didn’t kill that succulent already, did you?” You call out.

His eyes dart to meet yours, and he laughs. “No! Promise.”

“Good. That would be a new record,” you laugh.

You let him wander the store on his own for a few minutes as you get the philodendron correctly in the new pot. Then you give it some water and take it with you to set it back out on the shelf. He’s still the only other person in the store, and he’s currently eyeing the flats of flowering plants.

“It’s actually going really well,” he says as you walk by. “He has a new leaf.”

That’s when you know the guy is hooked. He has a new leaf. The plant is no longer just a plant to him. Absent-mindedly, you wonder if he’s the type to name his plants. You set the one in your hands down on the table in front of you, your back to him so he doesn’t see your wide grin. When you turn around, you tone it down.

“That’s great,” you say encouragingly. “So I’m guessing you want another one?”

He nods, rubbing his finger over the leaf of a fiddle leaf fig. “Yeah, but I’m thinking something different this time. Something bigger.”

“You don’t want that one,” you say, and he backs away from the fig tree slightly. “Fiddle leafs are notoriously dramatic. If you left her for a week she’d drop all her leaves.”

He sighs and stands up. “What would you suggest?”

You wave him over to another area of the store. He follows eagerly, footsteps splashing in the leftover puddles from the morning watering. You lead him to a section of spiky, tall plants.

“Snake plant,” you say, pointing at them.

He’s standing next to you, and your shoulders just barely brush. A shiver runs down your spine. You try to hide it.

“Snake plant,” he repeats. “The name makes sense.”

“People also call them mother in law’s tongue,” you add. You fight the urge to check his ring finger. “But if you’ve got a mother in law I’d suggest avoiding that name.”

He laughs, and his shoulder bumps into your again. “I don’t. But snake plant sounds cooler.”

You nod in agreement. “They do well with very little water. And, they can do okay in pretty low light, too. So if you’ve got a darker area that needs a plant, it would be a good fit.”

He’s up at the register ten minutes later, plant and a pot in hand. This one is plain terracotta. You like that he’s the type of person to buy the pots, too. Some people just leave them in the boring plastic, and it makes you sad to think about. All plants deserve a nice home. You say that to him as you ring him up, and he laughs. He’s also grabbed a small bag of potting soil this time.

Your repeat the process, same as last time, and hand him the bag. He takes it, and then he hesitates.

“Thanks again,” he says, juggling the bag until it’s held in one arm. He sticks his hand out to you. “I’m Oscar, by the way.”

You tell him your name, though you’re sure he could read it off your nametag, too. When you shake his hand, you swear the warmth of it runs all the way up your arm. He thanks you again, and then he disappears out the door once again. That ache is back in your chest. You find yourself hoping he’ll be back soon.

…..

He does come back. Multiple times. He buys more succulents on one trip, asking you to help him choose between them, and then he ends up buying all three instead. Another morning he comes in and you show him a ZZ plant you’ve just gotten in that you think will be perfect for him- you don’t tell him you’ve been saving it for him at your work station. It’s just… you know it’ll look great next to the snake plant he bought.

Each time he comes to the store, he hangs around a little longer. You chat about the weather, about the plants in the store, about his plants at home. You tell him funny stories about other customers and complain to him about the rude ones. In return, he tells you about his coworkers, specifically one named Lando who he seems to get into a lot of mischief with. He hasn’t said what he does for work. You field weird about asking, so you don’t.

The 4th time he stops by, you suggest a pothos. He eyed the leaves and vines skeptically.

“The other ones looked tough, you know? Like they’d survive even if I fucked up.” He tugs at one of the vines. “Are you sure about this one?”

You nod encouragingly. “You can handle it. I promise. Plus, the cool thing about these is you can cut parts of the vines, like this,” you say, holding up one you’d taken from the workstation. “And then you stick it in water for a bit, it grows roots, and you’ve got a whole new plant.”

He raises his eyebrows. “That’s cool.”

“I know,” you laugh.

He joins you up at the front to buy the plant. You go through the same routine. This time, he’s picked out a pretty blue ceramic pot for it. It compliments the leaves well. Then he leans on the counter and the two of you start chatting. You’d had a shipment that came in last week with a bunch of dead plants, so you regale him with the story of trying to deal with the company’s customer service. In turn, he tells you a story about his family back home- one of his sisters had a dance recital, his mother tried to videotape it for him, he received a video of his mother’s face as she watched the recital. You don’t realize how long the two of you have been talking until Jane, the next person on the schedule, walks in.

You stand up straight, face growing hot suddenly. “Hi, Jane!”

“Hi, hun,” she says, walking past the two of you. “Sorry I’m late. Bet you’re dying for your lunch break.”

She’s late? You and Oscar must’ve been talking for… forever. It had felt like only minutes. He smiles sheepishly and pushes away from the counter.

“Well, I should be going,” he says, taking the bag in his arms. “Thanks again!”

You watch him walk out the front door, unsure why it feels like you’ve been caught. It reminds you of the feeling you’d gotten years ago, when your teacher found you and the boy you had a crush on in the hallway alone. You hadn’t been doing anything wrong, but it still makes you feel strange.

“Friend of yours?” Jane asks when you walk past her to take your break.

You blink, shrugging. “I think he might be.”

…..

Oscar always comes in on Tuesdays. You avoid taking Tuesdays off and won’t admit to yourself that he’s the reason why. But when you wake up with a raging fever and a pounding head, you know you have to call in. Jane, always a sweetheart, takes your shift. When you see her two days later, it’s after you’ve already done the opening shift.

“Did you see your plant?” She asks as she breezes through the greenhouse.

You shut off the hose you’d been using to water a particularly thirsty chrysanthemum. “What plant?”

“The one your friend brought,” she says, and you only feel more confused. “He dropped it off Tuesday, said he was looking for you. It’s on the desk.”

You walk over to the workstation. Sure enough, in a tiny plastic pot- likely one from one of the succulents he’d bought-there’s a small pothos vine growing. You pick up the little plant, knocking over the piece of paper propped up on it in the process. You reach for it, finding a note written in rushed, messy scrawl.

I know you’ve probably got tons, but it felt right that you would have my very first propagation. Learned that word from the internet. Feel better soon! -Oscar

You turn to look at Jane. She’s at the register, not paying you any attention. You cradle the tiny plant close to your chest and do the same with the note. Then you tuck the paper away for safekeeping.

The plant, however, you carry with you all day. You place it in a sunbeam at the front register. When it catches your eye every so often, you feel a warmth in your chest.

…..

The next time Oscar comes in, he eyes the little plant at the register. You’ve stuck a little stake in it and tied a bow on top. He smiles softly and turns back to the display of pots. He chooses a tiny one with checkerboard print, the same as his very first purchase. You ring him up for all his items, but when you go to put that one in the bag, he grabs it and shakes his head. He slides it towards your tiny vine.

“For your plant,” he says, smiling softly.

You break into a face splitting grin. “You’re too sweet.”

His fingers brush against yours when you take it from him. You swear you feel sparks. You wonder if the red cheeks he sports as he leaves the store means he felt it, too.

…..

Another man comes into the shop early in the morning. It’s a Wednesday this time. You know it won’t be Oscar because of that, but you still look up eagerly. The guy nods, waving politely. You smile and go back to your watering. He walks the aisles, looking at the plants and never picking them up.

“Excuse me?” He says, after you’ve put the hose away. You turn, trying to hide your surprise at his American accent. “Um. Could you tell me where the succulents are?”

You grin and nod, walking over towards the area. You point them out.

“These right here,” you say. “Anything I can help you with?”

He stares at the tiny plants. “I have no idea what I’m doing. My friend, he’s gotten really into plants, and he talks about this shop all the time. Figured I’d see what the hype was all about.”

You tilt your head. He’s probably not, but it almost sounds like he’s talking about Oscar. You try and shake the idea from your head. Oscar is just a customer, he’s not going around and telling his friends about the greenhouse he goes to. He’s definitely not telling them about you.

“Succulents are a good place to start,” you say.

He sighs. “I don’t have much of a green thumb. I don’t think I’ll be very good at this.”

“Well, it’s worth a try.” You say with a shrug. “You might surprise yourself.”

He ends up picking out a little succulent. He doesn’t go for a decorative pot. He seems wholly unconfident in his ability to keep it alive for more than a few days. Still, he smiles as he’s leaving. He pauses in the doorway.

“You know, I thought Oscar was exaggerating when he told me about you,” he says. “But I get it now.”

He’s out the door before you can even form a syllable, let alone a word or a sentence. You think about chasing after him and asking what the hell that even means, but you stay rooted there. Oscar talks about you. To his friends. You swear your heartbeat doesn’t slow all morning, and the heat in your cheeks stays there all day.

…..

Oscar comes rushing into the shop the next Tuesday. He has a brown paper bag in his arms, and his eyes are wide. He’s breathing heavily, like he’s been running. You stand up, setting the garden hose down. He nearly slips on a puddle as he rushes over to you, and you reach out to steady him.

“I just got home last night,” he rushes, “and something’s wrong with- with Greg.”

“Greg?” You ask, leaning to peer into the bag.

“My succulent,” he says. His cheeks have gone red. “I name my plants. Is that weird?”

You laugh. “No, it’s not.”

You don’t tell him you’ve named your tiny pothos vine after him. You take the bag from his arms and walk to the back of the store, towards the work station. You reach in and pull out the succulent. It’s a little withered, a bit droopy. It’s also doubled in size since he bought it.

“I’ve been watering him when the soil gets dry,” he says, “and he’s still getting sunlight. I’ve tried everything- I left music playing for them when I left, so-“

Your eyes flicker up to him. He plays music for his plants. He’s the cutest man you’ve ever met. You want to take his face in your hands and kiss his forehead. Or his lips. He has these cute little freckles and moles- you’d like to draw constellations between them. Your face feels hot again. You direct your attention back to the plant as he rambles on. You frown, tugging slightly to see the roots.

“Osc, babe,” you interrupt, and he stops and stares at you. “He’s just a little root bound.”

You don’t dwell on the fact that you’ve just called him babe. It’s too late now.

“What’s that mean?” He asks, the panicky tone still in his voice.

“It means,” you start, nudging his side softly with your elbow, “that you’ve taken such good care of him that he’s outgrown this pot. He needs more soil. More room to spread out.”

His shoulders drop. The panic melts off his face. “Oh.”

You laugh. “God, I can’t believe when you came in here the first time you had no idea what a succulent even was. And now here you are, all panicked over a little wilting. You’ve become a true plant nerd, haven’t you?”

He shrugs sheepishly. “Maybe.”

“It’s cute,” you tell him, just to watch the blush creep up on his cheeks again. “Come on, let’s get him a new pot and some fresh soil.”

You lead him up to the front. He starts to pick through the display, holding the succulent up to the different options until he finds the right one. It’s a light orange.

You nod in approval. “Now you’ve got an empty pot,” you say, pointing at the original pot for the succulent. “Which means if you want, you have an excuse to buy another plant.”

“You’re so smart,” he says, eyes wide.

He rushes over to the display of succulents. While he’s picking one out, you carefully re-pot the plant into its new home. He takes his time, like always, indecisive to the very end. When he makes it up to the counter, he grins widely at the sight of the plant in its new pot.

“Thanks,” he says, softly. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

…..

When Oscar comes into the shop on a particularly rainy Tuesday, you’re trying hastily to hide your tears. He doesn’t come in every week, but it’s just your luck that he’s here today of all days. You wave and turn your back to him, sticking to the workstation. You hear the soft fall of his tennis shoes, though, even over the sound of the rain against the greenhouse roof, and you know he’s making his way towards you.

“Everything okay?” He asks, voice low.

You turn and find him with his hands in his jeans pockets. You wipe at your cheeks hastily, hoping he can’t tell how upset you are, but knowing you look a wreck. Your hair is soaked in rainwater, and your eyes likely red rimmed and puffy. It’s confirmed when his soft smile drops into a frown.

“I’ve had a shit morning,” you tell him with a sigh.

He pulls one hand from his pocket. “You, uh. You have dirt on your cheek.”

You groan and try to brush it away. Oscar chews on his lower lip. Then he reaches out, his fingertips sweeping against the skin of your face. His hand is warm, despite the chill in the air. Tiny sparks seem to spread across your skin, following the trail of his touch. Your face grows hot.

“There,” he says.

“Thanks,” you reply.

He nods. “What’s going on? If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to, but…”

You sigh and turn away slightly, back to the plant in the pot in front of you. His gaze is so warm that you can’t stand to look at him, afraid you might start crying all over again.

“Just. Woke up late, so I was in a rush. And then I locked my car key in the car because I forgot something in the flat, and my mum has the spare key and she’s not even awake yet, so I had to walk here in the rain. And I couldn’t find my umbrella.” You brush a wet piece of hair away from your forehead. “And I slept like shit, and haven’t had any caffeine because I was late. So, yeah.”

“Shit morning,” Oscar agrees.

You nod. You finally turn to look at him again. There’s a soft look on his face, one you can’t quite place. He reaches out, places his hand flat on the counter next to yours. If you shifted your thumb just slightly, you could touch his. You want to, but you don’t.

“Sorry, I- Can I help you find anything?” You ask, blinking at him.

“You don’t need to be sorry, I asked,” he says. He rocks back on his heels and pulls his hand back. “I actually just remembered, I’m- I have to- I’ll be right back.”

He turns around and walks quickly to the front of the store. The bell dings as he walks out through the front door. You stare at the spot where his hand had been for just a moment and feel your heart shatter in your chest. You’d gone and over shared with your favorite customer, the one you thought might actually be your friend, and now you’ve scared him off. Yet another tally to add to the shit morning. You collapse into the chair behind the counter and rest your head in your hands, trying to will the tears away.

You’re not sure how long goes by before you hear the bell over the door again. And really, nobody comes in this early, so why are they choosing today of all days? You hastily wipe your face on the sleeve of your sweatshirt and stand up, plastering a smile onto your lips to greet whoever is in the store.

Your heart stutters in your chest. It’s… Oscar. He’s walking towards you, though he’s not looking at you. He has three takeout coffee cups balanced precariously in his hands. His hair matches yours now, soaking wet and hanging over his forehead. You burst into laughter as he sets them down.

“Oh my god, I thought I scared you off,” you say, brushing a stray tear from the corner of your eye.

“No,” he says, eyes wide. “You said you needed caffeine. There’s a coffee shop just down the road.”

You laugh and press your hands to the counter, leaning towards the cups. “Three cups?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I got you coffee, but I didn’t know if you wanted cream or sugar. So,” he points at the smallest of the three cups, “this is cream,” he says while digging in his pockets. Then he places an assortment of sugar packets on the counter. “And here’s sugar. The other cup is mine.”

You grin at him, shaking your head. “I knew you were my favorite customer for a reason.”

The smile he gives you in return is bright enough to make up for the lack of sun, to wash away the rain clouds, to warm your cold hands. You open the lid to the coffee and pour a bit of cream in, and then add two sugars. Oscar watches, nodding.

“I’ll know for next time,” he says.

Your heart flutters in your chest. Next time. You like the sound of that. You wrap your hands around the paper cup and let the warmth seep into your fingers before you take a sip. You sigh happily, meeting his eyes over the lid. The cup in his hand has something written on it in messy pen. You wonder if the barista tried to give him their number, and you fight back the jealous feeling at the thought.

“Thank you,” you say, softly.

“It’s no biggie,” he insists. “I owed you anyway, for saving Greg.”

He hangs out for a while that morning, leaning on your counter and chatting. You re-pot some plants and then bring them out to the displays, and he follows along. There’s something about his presence alone that warms you up from the inside out. By the time he looks at his watch and curses, muttering about having a meeting, you’re feeling much better. His hand brushes your shoulder before he leaves. You call after him to thank him again for the coffee.

He stops in the doorway, rain falling on his arm that’s extended to hold the door open. “I’ll see you soon!”

Then he disappears into the storm.

…..

You don’t see him soon. It’s not abnormal for Oscar to go a couple weeks without stopping in, so at first you don’t think much of it. Each Tuesday, though, you look up eagerly when the bell over the door rings, and your heart sinks when it’s not him. Maybe you really did over share, maybe he did get scared off. You try not to think about it.

It’s just… he was cute, and kind, and fun to talk to. He brought you coffee. You wonder how his plants are doing, if he’s still playing music for them while he’s gone. You have fleeting images in your brain of him watering the plants, taking the time to look for new leaves and check the roots. You almost wish he’d have another plant emergency, just to give him a reason to stop back in.

Eventually, after a month goes by and he hasn’t been back, you give up almost entirely. You’ll move on eventually, find a new favorite customer. You couldn’t have expected him to keep coming around forever, after all. To him, you were just another retail worker.

You do end up seeing his American friend one more time. He comes in on a Wednesday morning, just like before. He doesn’t stop and look at any of the plants, instead beelining for you. You’re working on bagging some potting soil and watch him with wide eyes.

“Hi,” you say. “Can I help you find something?”

“No, I just-“ he cuts himself off, shaking his head. “I super killed that succulent.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re Oscar’s friend, right? He didn’t help you?”

The guy shakes his head. “He made fun of me, though. Said I overwatered it.”

“How is he, anyways?” You ask.

Logan frowns. “He’s good.”

You nod. “Well, d’you want to try again?”

“No, that’s not why I-“ he sighs, rubbing his temples. “He won’t shut up about you, you know.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Find that hard to believe, since he hasn’t been here for almost a month.”

Which is maybe a little mean spirited. And probably not something you should be saying to his friend. You wince.

Now it’s his turn to blink wildly. “So you miss him too?”

You squint at him. “Why are we having this conversation? I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Logan,” he says. “You haven’t like… reached out to him or anything?”

“How would I?” You ask. “I don’t even know his last name, let alone his phone number.”

“His last name’s Piastri.”

“That feels like information you shouldn’t be giving away to strangers.”

He’s not listening, though. Something seems to have clicked in his head. His eyes go wide and he starts to back away.

“I have to go,” he says. “Thanks!”

You’ve had a lot of strange interactions while working retail, but that one comes in pretty high on the list. And it leaves you wondering about Oscar, which is something you’re trying desperately not to do. All in all, not a great day.

…..

Two weeks later, you clock out of your Tuesday shift around lunchtime and head down the street. It’s raining again, but at least this time you’re armed with a raincoat and an umbrella. Your car is parked nearby, but you’re in the mood for coffee and warm food, so you head to the cafe nearby. You try not to think about the time Oscar had brought you coffee from there. You can’t help picturing his soft smile, eyes trained on the cups balanced precariously in his hands.

You make it halfway to the cafe before a gust of wind hits your umbrella at just the right angle and snaps the metal supports. Then, as if the universe is playing a cruel trick on you, a car speeds by on the road next to you, hits a puddle, and sprays you with muddy water. It soaks through your clothes and onto your skin nearly immediately. You fight the urge to ball your hands into fists and yell dramatically at the sky.

“Shit,” someone says, and the sound of his voice makes your breath catch in your chest. Then he says your name.

You turn, coming face to face with Oscar. Well. Okay. He’s studying you with a pained look on his face and standing under an umbrella.

“Yeah, shit,” you mutter, shaking water from your hands. “Oh my God. Hi, by the way. It’s been a bit.”

“It has,” he agrees, shuffling closer to hold the umbrella over you. “Here. Um. You okay?”

You shrug. “S’just water. I won’t melt.”

Oscar laughs- god, you’ve missed that sound- and nudges your shoulder. “You’ve got bad luck with rainstorms, huh?”

You nod. You’re trying not to freak out at the fact that he’s here. Oscar is standing next to you, holding his umbrella over your head. He’s here and he’s talking to you and he’s feeling sympathetic, which maybe means he doesn’t think you’re completely crazy.

“S’what I get for trying to go get coffee,” you say over the sound of raindrops on the umbrella. “And lunch. Now I’ve got to drive home like this.”

Oscar frowns, his whole face crumpling with it. “Hey, you know… I live just a block down. If you want, you could come and change into some dry clothes.”

Your mother would kill you for even considering it. You can practically hear her yelling in your head. But god, it’s Oscar. It’s Oscar and you haven’t seen him in a month and you might never see him again. There’s something about the soft look on his face that makes you trust him.

“Okay,” you say, quietly. “That would be… really nice. But only if you’re sure.”

“Of course,” he says.

Your shoulders brush as you walk, the umbrella over both of your heads. The two of you are nearly silent on the walk there. It’s like neither of you quite know what to say. You know you don’t. You worry he’s regretting inviting you to his place. But he lets you in the front door, leads you to the elevator, and all the way up to flat. When he opens the door, warm air pours over you like a river. You step in and toe off your boots, wincing at the squish of your wet socks.

Oscar winces, too. “Here, the bathroom’s right there,” he says, pointing at a partially open door. “I’ll go grab you some dry clothes. There’s towels in there too.”

You nod and step into the room. So far, the little bit of his apartment that you’ve seen matches up with what he’s told you. There are no shoes sitting out in the entryway. The bathroom is nearly spotless, which makes you feel a bit guilty about the dirty rainwater you’re dripping onto the floor. Oscar’s only gone long enough for you to take off your jacket.

He knocks on the door. “I’ve got clothes for you.”

You open the door, and he’s standing there, eyes squeezed shut. The clothes are held out in midair, like he’s trying to keep his distance. You laugh and take them, murmuring out a thanks. As you go to change, you hear him walk away.

You shuck your wet clothes off and drop them in the tub, shivering when the air hits your bare skin. You wipe the rainwater from your skin. Then you pull on the clothes he gave you- a t-shirt, a hoodie, and a pair of sweatpants. Plus a pair of thick, warm looking socks. All of them are baggy on you, but luckily the pants have a drawstring so you can pull them tight around your hips. You wring the water out of your hair with the towel and then wrap it around your shoulders before you step out into the hallway.

You can hear him moving around in the next room, so you head there. He’s standing at the kitchen island, which is open to the living room. He looks up when he hears you walk in, and a soft smile spreads across his face. His living room is neat and tidy, too. His plants are all lined up on the windowsill. You recognize them all from your store, and you smile.

“D’you have a plastic bag I can put my clothes in?” You ask, and he tilts his head at you. “I don’t wanna get more rainwater on your floor. Or in my car, really.”

“I mean, sure,” he says with a shrug. “Or… you could throw them in the washer. Hang out for a bit.”

He’s not looking at you anymore. You’re glad, because you’re sure you have a dumbfounded look on your face. It’s then that you notice the coffee machine running on the counter behind him, and the snacks out on the counter. Your mind is racing. He hasn’t stopped by the shop in nearly a month, but now…

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you say, unsure what else there is to possibly say.

He shakes his head, still not looking up. “You’re not.”

You cast your eyes to the window. It’s raining harder now. And god, you’ve missed him. You didn’t realize just how much until you were standing here.

“It’s been a while,” he says, turning his back to you when the coffee maker beeps. “We have some catching up to do.”

You think about letting it go. Maybe it’s enough to be here. Maybe you just shouldn’t bring it up. But really, you’re confused about the fact that he stopped coming to the store.

You tilt your head at him. “Yeah, you stopped coming in.”

“Well, you never texted me,” he says. “So I figured I’d freaked you out or something. But then Logan said he stopped by and you asked about me-“

You stare at the back of his head, bewildered, and you break in. “Oscar, I don’t have your number.”

He freezes, hand in midair, reaching for a coffee mug. He turns his head over his shoulder, and his eyes meet your again. He looks just as confused as you feel. Suddenly, your heart is racing in your chest.

“I wrote it on the coffee cup,” he says, voice quiet.

You stare at him, wide eyed. “There was nothing on my coffee cup.” He shakes his head, opens his mouth, but you keep talking. “I’m sure of it. But there was writing on yours. I know because I wondered if the barista was trying to give you her number.”

Oscar just stares at you for a moment, his lips barely parted. “Shit. I gave you the wrong cup.”

Shit, you repeat in your head. He tried to give you his number. He thought he gave you his number, and then you never texted him. He thought you rejected him. No wonder he stopped coming in.

“You could’ve just asked me for my number, you know,” you tell him.

“Yeah, but this was cuter,” he says. “It was- it was my number and this cheesy ass pickup line that Logan helped me think of and I- I really thought you just didn’t…”

“Pickup line?”

“Looking back it sounds stupid,” he admits. “But yeah. I was trying to ask you out on a date. And so when you didn’t text me…”

You cross the room, walking right up in front of him. His hands have fallen to his sides. His eyes trace your face as you smile up at him. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, brows slightly furrowed. You can smell the coffee now- it reminds you of when he brought you the coffee weeks ago.

“You should ask me now,” you tell him, smiling brightly.

He nods. “Without the pickup line, though.”

You pout up at him. He grins. One of his hands comes up to the side of your face, fingers cupping your jaw. His thumb prods at your cheek.

“Will you go on a date with me?” He asks, voice low.

You pretend to think about it. Pretend it doesn’t make your heart melt just to hear him say it. “Hm. When?”

He shrugs, looks around. “How about now?”

“It’s raining,” you remind him.

“We can have a stay at home date,” he suggests. “Coffee, lunch, a movie, maybe.”

You tilt your head. “Sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” He says, sounding a bit like he doesn’t quite believe you.

“Yeah,” you agree. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since the day we met.”

Oscar laughs and leans closer. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up for, then.”

He presses his lips to yours, and your eyes slip closed. You reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair to keep him close. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear- it’s still wet from the rain, and both of you giggle into the kiss. His hands drop to your hips, shoving the sweatshirt out of the way to hold onto you. You could kiss him for hours, you think. It’s all you’ve wanted for months now.

The coffee is growing cold on the counter. Suddenly, though, you don’t need caffeine.

He pulls away slightly, looks you up and down. “You look cute in my clothes, you know.”

You giggle and tug on the sweatshirt, pointing at the orange logo on the chest. “Thanks. Big McLaren guy, are you?”

Oscar laughs and brushes his lips against your temple. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Then he goes back to kissing you. You’re not complaining. You’ve got all the time in the world to learn all about him.

…..

Weeks later, you corner Logan at the British Grand Prix. Oscar’s distracted by interviews, but Logan’s not busy.

“What was the pickup line he wrote?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest.

Surprisingly, he needs very little convincing. He just laughs, eyes darting to where Oscar stands behind you in the media pen. His gaze is full of amusement.

“I be-leaf we’re meant to be,” he says in a teasing tone. “He was down bad.”

You laugh and turn over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend. He’s grinning watching the two of you talk. Later, you tease him for the cheesy line, for hiding behind coffee cups and scribbled pen when he could’ve just told you. He teases you for the same, for not telling him how you felt, for not making a move. And then you look at him, knowing your gaze is terribly soft.

“I believe it, too,” you tell him.

When he kisses you, you draw constellations between the freckles on his face with your thumb. Outside, it starts to rain.

a/n: can you tell I am a big plant nerd? anyways live laugh love oscar piastri I want to help him pick out plants :)

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me

#oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #formula one oneshot #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri #honeywrites #op81 #if you’ve made it this far in the tags somehow hi

2K notes · View notes

breadbrobin · 4 months

Text

lavender roses

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of persephone reader]

summary: everyone thinks red roses are synonymous with the perfect love. you believe that lavender roses deserve more love, and luke believes that you’re worthy of all the love in the world—you’re both just bad at communicating it.

warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive content, mentions of weapons, idiots, miscommunication trope but it’s cute dw, seriously they’re both so stupid and oblivious, besties to idiots to lovers

word count: 3.3k

(y’all i’m losing my mind i can’t stop writing but this might be one of my favourites ever)

(also i might put together a luke taglist and a clarisse taglist so lmk if you wanna be put on either of those and i’ll get to work on it 🤩)

———————————————

“i’m free february fourteenth,” you said nonchalantly.

you were sitting with luke at dinner and he’d just asked you if you ever had a day off working. as a daughter of persephone, you lived in the hermes cabin, but spent most of your time working in the strawberry fields. you spent every free moment there, soaking in the sun, helping the plants grow and picking flowers to put in vases around the cabin and infirmary.

he nodded as chris choked on his food beside him, coughing hard. “okay, we should hang out then.”

you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on. was he messing with you? playing a joke? really wanting to hang out with you on valentine’s day? or was he having a lapse of memory and he forgot that day had any significance at all?

either way, you nodded. when you spoke, your voice was slightly higher pitched than usual. “sure.”

“we can have a picnic. we haven’t done that in a while.” he was nodding still, looking into his food with a thoughtful expression.

the air nearly left your lungs. you nodded back, though he wasn’t looking at you, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with chris across the table. sure, you and luke used to go for picnics occasionally, but that was before he’d gotten unfairly attractive overnight and you’d developed the most annoying crush on him. “yeah, sure. it’s a date.”

if you could have jumped into tartarus you would have.

what the fuck. why would you say that?

chris was staring at you in shock.

your mouth was dry.

and luke was smiling like nothing was wrong. were his cheeks red? or was that your imagination? “yup! it’s a date.”

when he got up from the table to leave after dinner, he kissed your cheek. this wasn’t too far out of the ordinary, per se—it happened occasionally—but it sent a rush of adrenaline shooting down your spine and set your cheeks aflame.

chris’ eyebrows were raised. “what was that?”

“i have no idea,” you breathed.

“do you think he knows?”

your voice was even softer as you shook your head. “dude. i have no idea.”

valentine’s day couldn’t come soon enough.

you could hardly think of anything else. zoning out in the fields, losing focus while sparring, getting distracted by luke’s shoulder muscles while he was drawing back his bow, sending your arrow flying off to the side.

he laughed at you with everyone else, coming over to stand by your side. “you good there? need any help?”

you shook your head, your quaking fingers drawing the string back once more, pulling it taut. archery wasn’t your best skill, but you weren’t terrible at it.

you could feel his eyes on you, judging your form, analysing your aim. it put you off.

your arrow barely hit the target.

luke winced. “that was… better.”

you sighed and lowered the bow. “you’re distracting me!”

he laughed. “i’m distracting you?”

“yes!” you huffed, frowning at him. his eyes were lit up with amusement. “you are.”

“well, then i’m very sorry.” he raised his hands and took a step back, dipping his head too. “as you were, milady.”

you rolled your eyes with a smile and drew your arrow back, aiming and firing, but it still didn’t do well. in fact, every arrow that you shot pierced outside of the black rings. you were starting to think there was either something wrong with the bow or that you’d been cursed by one of the apollo kids, when someone’s hand lowered your elbow.

you looked over to see luke. he wasn’t watching your face. he was guiding your elbow down so it was more level with your arrow’s line and gently pulling your shoulders back so they were more even.

“pull back a bit more,” he coached quietly.

“i know what i’m doing,” you protested.

“i know, but today you look like you need a reminder. do you want my help? or do you wanna keep missing?” he finally looked you in the eye. he was sincere, you realised.

you sighed and draw the arrow back a little more.

he nodded happily and continued guiding your stance until you were perfect, his hands hot on your body and his breath on the back of your neck. he stayed behind you as you lowered the arrow and took a few deep breaths.

you were still watching him over your shoulder. his lips quirked as he reached out and gently turned your face away to look at the target. his hand was calloused and rough, but the tough was soft. you could barely breathe.

“focus,” he said softly. “eyes on the prize.”

you’re the only prize i want, was all you could think, but you didn’t say anything. you drew the arrow back, your fingers brushing against the corner of your lips. you felt better—more powerful, more confident—in this stance. and maybe luke’s presence behind you was helping with that too. you could feel the slight ghost of his hand on your waist. it kept you grounded. it stopped you from floating away.

your arrow pierced just beside the bullseye.

luke’s hand tightened on your waist, squeezing proudly. “that’s my girl.”

your heart fluttered as you smiled. “thanks, luke.”

he patted your lower back as he stepped away. “that’s what i’m here for. go kill it.”

then he was gone, and there was a fiery pit in your stomach that grew with each passing day that told you that—oh shit—you were in fully love with luke castellan.

february fourteenth arrived in a flurry of pinks, reds and whites. hearts adorned the camp, courtesy of the aphrodite cabin, and you and the demeter cabin had been tasked with growing what felt like hundreds of red roses. personally, you didn’t understand the hype surrounding red roses. after all, the lavender ones were the prettiest. they even meant love at first sight—far better than plain old love.

but with all the love in the air and the aphrodite campers swooning left and right, luke was sure to figure out his mistake and call off the picnic. it made you feel sick with anxiety, and your hands shook as you tended to the roses.

“y/n, hey!” luke’s voice came right next to you.

you flinched and the rose bush sprouted ten feet in the air with new flowers springing into existence left and right.

“whoa…” he said, looking up at it in shock. “i don’t think we need that many.”

“i don’t think anyone needs that many.” you muttered and took a deep breath, bringing the bush back down to size. “what are you doing here, luke?” your heart was in your throat. he didn’t look upset, but he’d always been good at hiding his emotions. was he about to tell you that he didn’t want to meet up later? or that he hated you for tricking him? thoughts started spinning like tops in your mind as you sunk into worse scenario after worse scenario.

“i just wanted to make sure we were still on for this afternoon? and to let you know to meet me by the lake.” were you imagining things, or did he look almost… nervous? his cheeks were red and he wasn’t meeting your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. was he? really?

you nodded. “oh, uh, yeah. we’re still on. i’ll meet you…?”

“at two?”

“at two.” you smiled. he smiled back and you ignored the flutter in your chest. a strand of hair blew in front of your face.

his hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to push it back, but he just nodded. “okay. see you later.”

“later,” you nodded as he walked away. “can’t wait!” you called after him. he shot a grin over his shoulder, and once he was gone, you buried your face in the rose bush with an exasperated groan.

at 1:45, you still didn’t know what to wear.

your friend becky had dragged you into the aphrodite cabin and was shoving various outfits into your arms to try on, since you didn’t have many nice outfits of your own, but nothing was right.

even though you were the same size as her, nothing seemed to fit you as well as it did her—some aphrodite’s daughter bullshit, you guessed.

she sat down on her bunk next to you and sighed. “i hate to say it, but… we’re out of options.”

you groaned and flopped backwards, covering your face.

she swatted your hands away. “you’ll smudge your makeup!” she then sat back and sighed. “honestly, hun, you might just have to go naked.”

“i’m sure he’d love that!” one of her brothers called from across the room.

you threw a pillow at him, but it dropped halfway there.

then becky froze with a gasp. “oh, my gods.”

you sat up. “what?”

“wait here.” she got up and dashed away, peering into the depths of her wardrobe.

you watched absently, kind of worried she’d pull out some sexy lingerie, as she felt around at the very back, in the corner. then her face lit up. she pulled out a dress. it was white and floaty, with tiny pale pink flowers on it and the most flattering neckline you’d ever seen. she held it out to you and then dragged you to the designated changing area beside her bunk.

you changed slowly, not wanting to rip the delicate material, then looked at yourself in the mirror.

holy shit.

becky stuck her head around the corner and gasped. “perfect! ugh, i feel like a proud mother.”

you laughed, smoothing the floaty fabric over your thighs. it was kind of staticky. “yeah, thanks, mom.”

she grabbed your arm and dragged you out, showing you off. “siblings! my magnum opus.”

as whistles and cheers came from the few people in the cabin, you smiled.

“he’ll love it,” becky whispered. “you look hot.”

“it’s not even a date,” you protested. “it’s just a hang out.”

“sweet cheeks, its a picnic on valentine’s day.” she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “it’s a date. now go. you’re gonna be late.”

you slipped on your white sandals and the light green jacket you always wore, let silena slip a white headband into your hair, then stepped out the door.

it wasn’t a cold day, exactly, but you were grateful for the jacket.

you rushed down the lake and got there two minutes late.

luke was no where to be found.

great, you thought. he was messing with me the whole time.

just as you were considering leaving, you heard footsteps running up to you.

“y/n! i’m so sorry, i could figure out—oh, wow...” luke stopped in his tracks as you turned around. his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he looked you up and down. he cleared his throat. “i didn’t know what to wear.”

he’d settled on a navy blue crew neck sweater and black jeans. his hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he looked good. really good.

shit. that would make things more difficult.

“it’s okay,” you smiled. “neither could i.”

“well, you look… you look amazing.” his voice was soft, almost reverent.

gods, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop blushing. this was torture. “thanks,” you said though, pretending your heart wasn’t climbing up your throat and threatening to jump right into his hands—like suicide. “should we—“

“oh! yeah.” he nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on your back (just low enough that it made your heart stutter, but high enough that it was innocent) and leading you towards the strawberry fields. “this way, milady.”

your heart was sinking a little as the fields came into view. everyone went to the strawberry fields. there were at least seven couples there already. it was the standard date spot. you had to remind yourself this wasn’t a date.

but he led you past the fields and into the forest.

great, so he’ll just murder me instead, you thought bitterly. it was like you were searching for a reason that it wasn’t a date now. at least i won’t have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing.

you snapped out of your thoughts as his hand gently slipped into yours and you nearly fell over. he looked back at you, amused. you shot him a thumbs up as he set down a familiar path.

you knew where you were going.

there was a clearing in the woods where you went. it was you own personal secret garden, hidden deep in the forest behind a thick hedge that you’d grown yourself. it had taken weeks to get it thick enough to keep your space safe, and weeks again to regain enough strength to add any other plants to it. in the last year though, you’d been going there often, coaxing a few new plants to grow. you’d learned that forcing growth was hard and near impossible, but encouraging growth was easy.

you’d shown luke the garden one day a few months ago, just before you developed that pesky crush.

he pulled you gently in front of him to enter the garden first, through a magically shifting gap in the hedge, so that he could enter too, and stepped aside to pick up a hefty bag hidden just off the path.

you stepped through the hedge, your hand still linked with luke’s, and into your garden. it was the same as last time you were there, around a week ago; filled with flowers and bees, with a patch of clear grass in the middle, linked to the hedge by four paths, running north to south and east to west. some of the flowers growing were out of season, but as a daughter of persephone, you had a certain level of influence over things like that. bees buzzed lazily around your head as you entered, happy to see you again. everything seemed to get happier, healthier and brighter the second you stepped into the garden. it was your favourite thing and your favourite place.

you looked back at luke to see him smiling at you. “you know me too well.”

“i knew you wouldn’t like to have everyone around,” he shrugged. “and i wanted to see this place again. it’s better than last time i was here.” he looked around in wonder.

“well, last time you were here, i’d just gotten over the flu, so i was still pretty weak. all of my hydrangeas wilted.” you pouted and crossed the garden to your hydrangea bush, blooming in all ranges of colours. soil acidity and pH didn’t matter if you were the daughter of persephone.

luke laid down a plaid picnic blanket as you murmured a few words to some of your weaker looking plants, breathing life back into them. you could feel his eyes on you as he sat and waited, but you didn’t feel rushed or observed. more than anything, you felt admired.

finally, you sat next to him. he’d set out some food and water bottles for the two of you. he was prepared. that was one thing about luke castellan: he was prepared, always two steps ahead. which is why this didn’t make sense.

as you started eating, you found yourself staring at a lavender rose bush. love at first sight, you mused. if only.

you’d fallen for luke after a whole year of friendship. that made it worse. you’d loved him already, platonically, then, without warning, those feeling shifted. the way you looked at him changed in a matter of moments. when he’d gotten cherries on his plate for dessert after you were told you couldn’t have more, then he’d given them all to you, claiming he didn’t like them (even though you knew he did), you fell stupidly, irrevocably, in love. but the way he looked at you never changed: always soft, always kind and always the same.

you were drawn to look at him. you always were. the sharp lines and soft curves of his face. those dark eyes that made your heart flutter never wavered as they met yours. never shifted, never darkened, never clouded with anger. never. they were as constant as time, as reliable as the tide, as predictable as the full moon coming around again.

and he was looking at you now. “what?” he asked.

you blinked and looked away, watching as two bees clumsily bumped into each other and went on their way. “nothing.” would that be you and luke? two bees bumping into each other briefly, then going on with their lives? unlikely to cross paths again? you couldn’t let that happen.

“you know it’s valentine’s, right?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

luke lowered his apple, resting his hand on his knee. his forehead was creased in a confused frown. “yeah, why?”

“well… then why… why are we hanging out today? i mean, this isn’t a date.” you paused. “is it?”

his eyes widened. “wait, you don’t think—“

“it’s fine, luke.” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t crumbling. “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have brought up valentines. it was a silly joke, and—“

“a joke?” he frowned again. “this isn’t a joke.”

you looked at him. he looked earnest. “what?”

“it’s not a joke. why would i joke about going on a date with you?” he swallowed tightly and put his apple down. “did you… did you just think it was a joke?”

“no! well, yes. but i didn’t want it to be.” you exclaimed. “did… you want it to be?”

“no!” he exclaimed, turning to face you. “why would i want that? i thought we’ve been dating for three weeks now!”

“you, what?”

he took a deep breath. “you’re telling me that i’ve been assuming we’re dating for three weeks, and you’ve been assuming i’ve been joking for three weeks, because we’re both a little bit fucking stupid and can’t communicate our feelings properly?”

you stared at him, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress. the static crackled like the tension in the air. “i guess so.”

“huh.” he said, turning back to face the flowers. he was silent for a moment and you almost thought he’d leave, but then he started laughing.

“stop laughing,” you protested, pushing him lightly, your cheeks flaming hot. “stop it.”

he didn’t.

soon, you weren’t able to stop yourself from giggling, then you were both laughing uncontrollably. your stomach hurt and you had to lean on each other to avoid falling over. your faces were close—too close. your laughter died as you felt his breath on your face. his fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. his breath hitched as he did, like he’d been waiting to do that for months.

“i’ve liked you for months,” you whispered.

“i’ve liked you since the moment we met,” he cupped your face in his hand, his other one resting on your knee.

you could see the lavender roses behind him. love at first sight.

the two bees that had bumped into each other settled on the same flower.

fucking hell.

you kissed him before you could talk yourself out of it.

the kiss wasn’t like fireworks. it was more like the first flowers of spring: fresh, exciting and pure. his lips were soft. yours were probably rougher than his from your long hours in the fields. you figured he didn’t care, because he kissed you like you were the only air he needed to breath for the rest of his life. you could feel flowers blooming around the picnic blanket—daisies and dandelions in the grass. the plants in the gardens were going wild. he was like a drug; some kind of amplifier for your powers and your heart rate and gods, you never wanted to let him go. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. your hand rose to his cheek and static electricity jumped from your skin to his.

he pulled away with a gasp, his hand on his cheek. then he laughed, and kissed you again.

and again.

and you were infinitely glad for the privacy of your own secret garden.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #charlie bushnell

2K notes · View notes

fourmoony · 2 months

Note

I HAVE THE BEST REQUEST AND IT'S PERFECT FOR JAMES! like imagine reader sitting at home and suddenly she gets a text from james to come outside and he's standing there🥲🥲🥲🥲 so she asks what he's doing there and he's like "i just wanted to kiss you" SORRY IF IT'S TOO SPECIFIC

thanks for requesting, sweetie!

f!reader 1.1k words cw: drunk jamie

You're half asleep when your phone pings, illuminating the darkness of your bedroom in a distracting glow and you're half asleep, content to ignore the single ping, a problem for tomorrow. But another one follows a moment later, the third only seconds after the second. With a huff, your hand reaches out to grab blindly for the device.

James' contact photo smiles at you from the corner of the notification box, his glasses askew and hair a mess. Your favourite photo of him, despite how vehemently he detests it. The messages are a jumble of words you struggle to make out, vowels in the wrong places and an amusing amount of emojis, even for James. A laugh huffs it way out of you as the three text bubbles appear once again, and a fourth message comes through. A photo of your house.

You'd be concerned, should anyone else have sent you the eerie looking photo of your house in utter darkness, but James is a love sick fool. You'd have to be blind not to know that about your boyfriend, even if things between you are still pretty new. He's not got a bad bone in his body. But it doesn't stop the way you sit up in a panic, scanning the floor of your bedroom for less embarrassing clothing. You come up empty, and your phone is incessantly buzzing in your hands now that James knows you've read his messages.

You use the glow of your phone to find your way downstairs, your house keys, make your way to the door and unlock it. James is sprawled out on the grass of your front garden, phone comically close to his face as he squints at the words he's typing. Drunk. Absolutely obliterated, clearly. You'll give Sirius shit for it, tomorrow, you think, as you let an exasperated laugh tumble from your lips.

James whips his head around at the noise, scrambles like a puppy to stand and bound his way over to you. He tramples some of the flowers planted around the borders of the grass and you fight a wince. He's on you in seconds, warmth radiating from him despite having been out in the cold for god knows how long. His arms are strong and steady, even though he reeks of beer, as he pulls you into them, lips firmly planted on the top of your head.

You try to peek over his shoulder for any sign of who dropped him off, but the street is empty, desolate, and you decide he must've walked from the pub.

Sleep still clings to the edges of your eyes as James pushes you back - uncoordinated and a little roughly, but you don't mind - and holds your face in his warm hands. "Hi, lovely girl." His voice is sweet and brimming with excitement at the sight of you and your heart swells.

"What on earth are you doing here, James?" You ask, though your words are kind and laced with amusement.

Your boyfriend only grins like the cat who got the cream, like he can't wait to tell you all about his adventure, until his eyes snag on your pyjamas. Technically, his pyjamas. His old juniors rugby top from secondary school and his boxer shorts, left abandoned by him last week when he'd slept in for breakfast with his mum and left in a hurry, a kiss placed to your cheek and the promise of being home for dinner. It had felt so domestic you'd had to talk yourself down from overflowing excitement for hours.

"Woah." James breathes, eyes wide.

You'd known he wouldn't mind you wearing his clothes, even if a little embarrassment at the idea had clung to your skin as you slipped them on before bed. But you hadn't expected him to feel like that about it.

"Easy tiger, you're three sheets to the wind." You chide softly, using the distraction to usher him into the hallway.

You close and lock the door behind him, place the keys in the bowl beside the door. James finds you in the darkness, hands soft against the fabric of his clothes on your body. You don't have to see him to know he's smiling that coy smile he gets whenever he seems to remember he has you.

"Am not." He mumbles, as if your statement has just now caught up with him.

You laugh, take his hand to lead him towards your bedroom. He follows quietly and without protest, but frowns when you flip on the overhead light and place him on the edge of your bed.

"What happened to Sirius' epic boys night on the town?" You ask, hands on his face as you crowd the in between of his legs.

His hands come to rest against the backs of your thighs, grip firm but soothing. He smiles, head lolling to the side, "Well," He sighs, as if buckling in for some wild tale of beasts slaughtered and mountains climbed, all just to get to you, "Sirius and Remus got drunk, like really, really drunk, and touchy and they were kissing and it made me realise how much I wanted to kiss you. So I left, and I came here for a quick kiss."

"A quick kiss?" You ask, eyebrow raised.

James just smiles, nodding dutifully, like it makes the most sense in the world. "Yeah, I gotta go back. They don't know I left."

You let out a long, suffering sigh, reaching for your phone beside James. "You can't just leave and not tell anyone where you're going."

"If they even realise I'm gone, they'll know where I am. With you." James shrugs.

"How do you reckon?"

"Where else would I be?" He asks, so serious and determined, so sure of himself that it makes your breath catch in your throat.

You can't help but smile, sweet and saccharine, glowing all over as you lean down to press your lips to James'.

"You're sweet."

James wrinkles his noise, grip tightening on your thighs as he pulls you down to him, falling backwards with a gentle thud. You catch yourself before your head collides with his nose and James grins, childish and playful, "You're sweet, too."

"Thanks, Jamie."

He presses his lips to yours, again, simple and warm. He knows he's in no condition for anything else, simply tucks you into his side and tries to get you to fall asleep with him, right there in the middle of the bed, on top of the blankets.

He's dead to the world in seconds, so you don't have much room for argument.

691 notes · View notes

hazelfoureyes · 6 days

Text

The Big Part (2)

Part 1

Alastor x Recently deflowered fem reader

Alastor had said he saved something for the next night after taking your virginity, and after what felt like a month and more of waiting, the next night finally came. As did Alastor. Multiple times.

「warnings/promises: smut, p in v, creampie, demon Alastor, Alastor isn’t so nice tonight cuz he’s ready to bust a nut babe sorry, cervix hulk smashed, drooling, lotsa cum, sex with the lights on, pretzel reader, curiosity killed the pussy cat, dom Alastor, organs shifted, it’s 2am so my proofreading may be shit」

Part 2

The Big Part: Bigger and Wetter

minors dni pls thank you bbs

Were you a whore? Or one of those sex addicted nymphos?

Ever since Alastor slid out of you and left you alone you could still feel him. A phantom limb of sorts, nestled between your legs and sunk to the hilt.

Was that normal? You couldn’t be sure. Not that you could ask anyone. Once again, same dilemma, Husk would groan and shoo you away. Angel would just start describing all of the dicks he wished he still felt.

More pressing, somehow, was the fact Alastor had scheduled to return tonight. Same time. You had no idea what time you’d been shadow portalled into your room the previous night.

To be safe, you returned to your room as soon as nightfall came. What if he came and you hadn’t been there? What if he never came back at all?

Despite your best efforts, you hadn’t seen him since he, you buried your head in your hands to hide from no one, deflowered you. What a silly word. You’d be a mess of damp pedals and scattered pollen had you been a flower.

Biology of plants aside, the word pollen brought to mind the ‘first’ you’d be treated to soon. You crossed your legs, the idea of making Alastor cum was exciting enough. But to feel it? You couldn’t imagine.

But you wanted to.

Scooting back onto the bed, you settled under the covers. Maybe that craving would be cured with a little imagination. With embarrassing speed, you slipped your hand into your pants and down to your core. You were already so wet just from thinking about Alastor. Nearly pathetic levels of aroused, panties soaked. Kicking off your pants and underwear, you let your fingers feel at your entrance for the first time since Alastor pulled out. You didn’t feel different to the touch. But there was a throbbing ache inside you.

Your nondominant hand snaked around your thigh. One finger, then two, you remembered his hips against your body. The way he told you to make yourself orgasm.

It wasn’t enough. You managed a third finger. Your free hand came to your clit. He’d just been there. Less than 24 hours before, you and he occupied the same space.

The hunger didn’t ebb. It wasn’t the size, or the speed, your newly greedy cunt wanted someone. Maybe fingers would never again be enough to satisfy you. Had Alastor knowingly cursed you to a lifelong addiction? You could almost hear him, smirk in his voice, “Missing me that much already?”

Your hand flew from your body, pitched knees caving in. You thought your heart might squeeze through the confines of your ribs from fright. As you looked over the blanket, there stood Alastor leaning on his microphone. His eyes were sharp, moving from your face to your lap and back.

“It’s a little rude to start the festivities before all the guests have arrived.” His hand gripped the blanket and yanked it off of you and the bed entirely. Exposed, your hands came back down to hide yourself which only made the deer demon laugh. “Darling, what’s there to hide?”

His shadow slithered up the wall behind him, voice crackling as an old radio filter cut through, “I’ve done more than look at you already.”

That somehow didn’t make it any less embarrassing. More so, as you thought about it. He’d done so much more than look. Alastor had been inside you.

When you didn’t say anything, he put one knee onto your bed and leaned forward. He used his microphone to slot between your legs and spread them open, “Remove your hands.”

You didn’t immediately respond.

“Oh, sorry,” a glow from his eyes as his head tilted unnaturally, “I suppose I wasn’t clear. That wasn’t a request, dear. If we’re going to do this you’re going to have to do as you’re told.” The tone of his voice paired with his changing eyes made you tremble. Your hands slipped up your stomach as you let him take in the sight of your glistening lips, already wet from your lazy fingering. “Good girl.”

He watched you clench and you swore you saw him swallow hard in response. A hum, “I’ll save that for tomorrow. Now!” He clapped, microphone flashing out of existence, “I believe we have a date. A new first for the taking.”

He was particularly excited about this one. Taking your virginity was definitely an amusing trophy but the idea of seeding your still virginal womb brought a twisted smile to his face. First in life and death to mark you from the inside.

Alastor had spent all day avoiding you. He was quite worried just the sight of your hips swaying as you moved down the hall would incite him to take hold and bend you over the nearest surface. He hadn’t had sex in quite a while before your offer, but this little advent calendar of firsts you had so easily agreed to was triggering unusual reactions from him. His mind was plagued with all the ways he could change you. All of the sounds you’d offer him exclusive first rights to enjoying. All of the little flashes of fear and embarrassment you’d display as he claimed new parts of your body with his own.

Already hard and throbbing in his pants, he knew he wouldn’t last too long. But luckily he had every intention of drowning your pussy so that wouldn’t be an issue.

You watched his half lidded eyes scan over your body, tongue swiping over his lips. A fox in the hen house.

“You’ve already prepared I see! How considerate.” He inched closer. One hand removing his belt and pulling his leaking cock out in a scene you were happy to repeat, his other hand came to your entrance. Three fingers pushed into you, longer and thicker than your own. Immediately your expression shifted from embarrassed to debauched. That burn of his stretch was reminding you of how much he opened you up the night before.

You hadn’t realized you’d closed your eyes until they popped open in response to an unexpected sound. A lusty sigh coming from Alastor, his hand gripping the base of his member tightly as he finger fucked you. Being unsure what he was doing didn’t stop you from gripping his fingers tighter. Did it feel good for him to hold so tightly at himself? You clamped down again, his fingers stilling. Finally his eyes left your lap to meet your stare, following your line of sight to his hand around his cock.

“Perhaps,” his fingers pulled out, “You aren’t the only one eager to continue yesterday’s games.”

Games. You wouldn’t call any of this a game. But you were happy to play along if it meant that ache would soon be calmed.

A pick up in your heart rate as he began undressing.

“Why today? Why get naked today?” A sharp look made you shrink, “I’m not complaining just…curious.”

A roll of his eyes, “I don’t want to stain my pants.”

Your eyes closed, needing a moment to calm down. What did that mean. Stain? With what??

You’d seen porn before, you weren’t completely naive. How much exactly would he…you opened your eyes, his face close to yours.

Mind blank. Skull entirely hollow as a clawed finger traced down your cheek. Gentle. Uncharacteristically gentle. Frighteningly gentle.

His nose grazed yours, hand tilting your face slightly so his mouth could ghost over yours without hitting against your nose. His smile open and letting his hot breath roll over your lips and chin.

Your eyes screwed shut, gasping sharply as you were taken by surprise by his sudden and complete entrance into you. Alastor had gotten close to drink in your expression when he entered you. He bottomed out in one move, a soft slap of his body hitting into yours. His sharp and predatory expression softening with the feeling of you surrounding him entirely. He hadn’t expected to react that way so he had no time to try and steel against the pleasured response.

An honest and open moment between you both, before his usual unbothered demeanor returned.

“Much easier than before, right, dear?”

You could almost feel his grin on your skin. The ache dulled but didn’t leave you. Without thinking your hips rolled against him, itching for the friction your body craved.

Alastor was entirely taken aback. Whimpering virgin turned hungry doe. His hands came to your hips and held you still, genuinely making you whimper.

“Now now, you’re getting ahead of yourself.” his nails dug into your flesh.

Hitched breath, clenching now around the firm but yielding length spreading you open at the center. His head fell down slightly as shadows grew up the walls. Little prongs stretching out before his hips pushed against you. No drawback, just a deeper press. Your delicate but hungry organ moved with his intrusion and pulled a gasp from you.

Black dripped from his lips as sharp teeth cut against his grin before his eyes came up to meet yours, “Do you want me to take more of your first experiences?”

Voice heavy as it hit the air between you, the murmur of a waiting audience crisp and distant behind his tone.

You nodded. Of course you did. After the previous night you were desperate to feel everything you’d been missing out on.

His hips rolled into yours, pushing your stomach up with his length.

A moan, delayed as your senses were struggling to understand the still novel sensations.

“Say it.”

Not a request.

“I want you-.”

“Alastor.”

“I want you, Alastor, to take more firsts.”

His hips rolled again, that infamous grin reaching his ears. “Use your manners, my little doe.”

Another involuntary spasm around him, “Please.”

As if he was prepared for your answer, because he was, because he knew there was no other answer, his body was ready with a snap of his hips. “Perhaps I was too accommodating last night?” Another languid and punishing roll of his hips that started at his chest, allowing his entire length to slip out of you before just as easily pushing back in. Your eyes slid shut, mind fractured as it focused on the claws pressing into your flesh, on the still slight burn of your opening stretching at his widest part, at his voice making your body shiver.

A tiny part of you thought you may actually die if he didn’t pick up the pace.

He considered trying to keep his release at bay, but knew he’d have time to enjoy you as many times as he wanted. Your unspoken wish granted, his speed jumping from lazy and considered to determined and frantic. The warmth you provided, the slick wetness he coaxed out of you, all of it was thickening the fog of his mind. Finding an even rhythm to pull back the tension of his orgasm, you found yourself scrambling under him. The goal was definitely different now than the prior night, and as your eyes opened you could see he had clenched his shut. You knew what was coming, and though you weren’t actively trying to cum you still found a building pressure in your gut.

When your legs began to kick up to make some distance between his cock and your cervix, the pace so deep and rushed your body was feeling overstimulated already, his hands grabbed both ankles and pressed them as far up as your muscles could stretch. Your knees nearly pressed into your shoulders, raptured groans escaping you when you could feel all you’d done was allow him deeper access to you.

“Al-ah!” His name was too long, much like the other part of him choking you up now. Helpless to stop it, panicked by the feeling, you felt tears forming as your orgasm was truly forced out of you. You saw white as you trembled, crying out little pleas for him to let up the stimulation but he wasn’t listening anymore. His ears were pressed to his skull and ringing, heartbeat pounding in his head and down his cock.

What a help you were, squeezing him like your body needed his release as badly as he wanted to give it. You felt the heat of his seed filling you before his hips slowed, not stopping but pulling out more and more with every thrust until he was finishing on your lower lips.

His clawed thumb wiped the dripping liquid up and down your folds. Dirty. But dirtied by him, before anyone else. Alastor watched the way your hole twitched and wanted to devour you.

A moment finally of relief for your nerves, you tried to stop the way your pussy was twitching and working his cum deeper inside. You were surprised how hot you found it, a strange swelling of your pride at your body making him cum and a deep satisfaction at feeling that warm liquid coating your walls. Oh no, another addiction? Something else your fingers could never do…

You felt sleepy, emotionally rocked and physically spent, you sighed dramatically, “Alastor-,”

His other hand released your ankle but instead of pulling away, he gripped your hips and rolled you to your stomach.

A second of panicked confusion. “What are you doing?” You lifted yourself up on your elbows and looked back. Wide and creaking antlers loomed over you, eyes black and pupils red looking straight through you. Hungry.

Something possessed you, not quite fear. Something even more base than that took in the demonic Alastor and felt compelled to raise your hips. “Alastor?” A little purposeful clenching, semen slipping past your still untouched clit and dribbling down your thighs and stomach as your head lowered back to the bed.

Following an order you hadn’t been given yet was easy when his eyes were locked on your core. You whined, a new position meant a new angle so you held tightly to one of your pillows in anticipation.

Your face pressed into the pillow as his body rubbed against yours. The hands on your thighs scratching upwards, “Words, sweetheart.” Deeper than before, scratchy and strained.

Biting your lip you considered just spontaneously combusting and turning to ash, but you wanted to feel more, you needed to see what else he could offer. Curiosity, pussy cats, a joke you couldn’t find the functioning neurons to piece together as you struggled to squeak out, “Are you done, Alastor? Or, I can k-keep going.” The heat of your blush threatened to follow through with the combustion, face burning with embarrassment for saying something so needy.

He knew you could. Lubed and softened, Alastor’s dick pressed into you and sank in with ease. That was the only response you received. Your body, for the first time ever, felt like it was made to take him. Everything felt swollen and sensitive as his still hard member pulled and pushed at your walls. The kind of sounds people paid to hear were filling the room, your moans long and deep now. The wet slap of his balls against your pussy sounded so sharp against the rounded breaths you seemed to sigh out.

Despite his sudden increase in size, your body gave way easily. Rutting into you, Alastor felt like a lesser creature. How rarely he dropped the more complicated facets of being an overlord and just let the demon in him dictate his moves. You were a different feast entirely to the lowly shark sinners he so easily took apart some time ago. A different kind hunger being satiated and stoked again in a lustful cycle.

It felt like you were molded to him, forgetting his shape and learning it anew every time he buried himself into you. Looking down through the sharp contrast his demon form offered he could see himself being taken in deeper than before. He regretted suddenly not looking for the bulge he surely made earlier in your stomach as he had the night before.

Your body had bones, you were sure of it, but you collapsed like jelly into the mattress. Alastor’s hips followed yours down, never missing a beat as he continued a bruising force. Your mind was swimming as your brain was 80% pleasure reception and 20% breathing deep enough to stay conscious. Heart beat dictated by the pitch of his breath.

Drool soaked into your pillow, cum dripping down onto your blankets. Sweat slick body rocking into the bed as you felt a pulse at your clit. The electricity a response to your thoughts, your realization you were a cocksleeve for the cruelest overlord in recent memory. Was this an achievement? It felt like one. Another, louder moan from you as his breaths turned to growls.

The blankets were ripped as his clawed hands balled into fists around you.

What an education you were receiving. What a thorough teacher Alastor was for you. Your body already responding so well to your new lessons.

A daring move that got you scolded earlier but you pushed your ass back up into his body to greet him. This time Alastor was happy for it, the softness of your ass shaking as he humped down into your wet heat. Soft flesh he wanted to grip and bruise and scratch but he kept enough of himself to remember you were breakable.

Too new still for a lesson on pain. No, right, he was supposed to be offering you the new sensations of being seeded.

Your hips were fucked off the bed as his speed quickened, your back bending uncomfortably. You bit into the corner of the pillow, needing to do something with the static ricocheting inside your body. A flicker of the lights you had forgotten were still on was the only warning before both of his hands came to press between your shoulders and pin you down. A set of three thrusts, each deeper than the last as he came a second time.

Your legs kicked up again, hitting lightly at the back of his legs as he reached a new depth, twinge of pain deep in your center as he pressed.

With a sigh, all of the air left your lungs. His hands slid down your back with a tickle, holding your cheeks open so he could watch himself pull out of you entirely.

Voice and body back to normal, Alastor patted softly at your thighs, “Thoroughly fucked now, dear. I’d say your pesky virginity has been completely and utterly taken.”

You couldn’t reply, brain going quiet as a blissed out sleep creeped up your spine.

“Happy to be of service, do come find me when you’re ready for my help again.” Was all you heard before his laugh was fading away. Either into the darkness of your dreams or into his own shadow, you couldn’t be sure. You were out cold before that laughter went quiet.

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl

#alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin alastor #fanfiction

806 notes · View notes

churipu · 4 months

Note

Could you do a reaction of jjk men reacting to you not wanting to celebrate your birthday because it's too much work? Thank you ♥️♥️

JJK MEN + YOU NOT WANTING TO CELEBRATE YOUR BDAY

featuring. geto suguru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro x reader

warnings. none

note. hello nonnie :D i've never actually thought of this omg, but i'm a little ecstatic to write this bcs as a person who has a love-hate with celebrating birthdays, i know how it feels sometimes. anyways, i hope you like this nonnie :(

GETO SUGURU. geto never really liked party anyways, and during your first year together, the male asks you if you preferred private birthdays where it's just the two of you or a big birthday with everyone in it — so he could take note in the future, because the male took it into consideration that if you didn't like big and loud parties, and then he makes one for you; it would be uncomfortable for your side (when it's supposed to be the day you celebrate your birth).

"i don't like big parties, 's too much work to do." you answered him with a small smile.

and ever since then, he's kept in mind to never make big parties for you — both of your birthdays are celebrated only between you both. you would do it for him, and he'd do it for you.

just a small cake, a present, and the two of you. he needed nothing else but to be with you, it's the picture perfect birthday for him. and you thought so too.

"can we eat cake now?" you asked him, eyes gleaming.

geto chuckles and he took it as a job to cut you one — watching you eat the slice happily before cutting another slice for you, to which you always accept.

NANAMI KENTO. nanami has always knew that you loathed parties — from the way you act, and how you always try to stay away from parties or get-goings with a lot of people. and so when your first birthday with him as your boyfriend came around the corner, he planned a dinner for the both of you.

nanami bought a bouquet of flowers with your favorite flowers, an extra present (that he will have to find by observing and remembering about the things you have ever said to him), a cake, and princess treatment (not that he ever stops doing it anyways).

"happy birthday," he mumbles into your hair, pulling you closer and planting a kiss to your lips sloppily.

"thank you, kento." you giggled lightly, leaning your face into his shoulder, resting your head there for a bit.

you never question him about how he knows you don't like parties, and just kind of roll with it. because you loved it, people in the past, whether it being your friends or your parents — sometimes would throw big parties for you, and you never ended up enjoying your birthday at all. even if it was celebrated.

but with nanami? you've always managed to enjoy every birthday.

"here," he hands you a small velvet colored box, "i bought you something," he grabs your hand before opening the small box with one hand.

it was a silver colored ring, "kento," you call out to him, "that costs...a lot."

"i love you." he replies, sliding the ring into your finger — a small smile on his face. he brings your hand onto his lips, kissing it softly.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. toji never thought of throwing parties in the first place anyways — he hates parties with random people all around. when your first birthday comes up, he got you a small cake and a present, that was about it really.

"'m sorry, it's all i got." he mumbles out, as much as he hates apologizing; at that moment he actually felt like a bad boyfriend to you — because it was your birthday, it didn't matter what he doesn't like, what if you liked big birthday parties?

"'ts okay, baby. i don't like parties, so this is perfect." you tell him with a small smile, "parties are too much work anyways."

god, watch him fall even harder for you after.

believe me when i said he actually tries to sing out the happy birthday song to you, but never make it to the end because he felt shy to do it so he always stops in the middle.

but just the thought of him doing that was enough for you, it's always a perfect birthday with him, really. just the two of you, having a little bit of cake before going out to eat dinner and then just hanging out with each other.

what more could you ask for?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #jjk fluff #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto fluff #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fluff

846 notes · View notes

lnlightning81 · 1 month

Text

Dinner - Part Two

Series Title : Younger Sister

Summary: Lando takes you out to dinner with some of the other drivers and he picks up on your nervous habit.

Pairing/s: Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader, Lando Norris x Sister!reader , Grid x Norris!Reader

Warning/s : Mentions of anxiety and food

Word Count : 1.5k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Oliver Bearman Masterlist

Lando Norris Masterlist

Lando had convinced you to go out to dinner with him and some of the other drivers that he was close with. Which just happened to be most of them. Lando was now walking around the hotel room, waiting for you to finish getting ready.

“Y/N can we please leave?” He whined, throwing his phone on his bed again

“Wait a second. I can’t get this earring in” Lando rolled his eyes, throwing himself back on the bed, obviously bored of waiting.

“Okay we can go now” You smiled

“About fucking time. Let’s go” He got up walking out of the hotel room. You followed behind him trying to keep up with him and his stupidly large steps.

“Lando please slow down” you whined, and he stopped walking in front of the elevator, pressing the button.

“Or just walk faster” He shrugged, and you shoved him.

“Lando please. I don’t want us to do this thing again” you whispered, stepping into the elevator as it arrived. Lando looked over at you

“Y/N I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that” Lando wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“You owe me dessert” you muttered, and he chuckled as the doors to the elevator opened again, and you walked out with Lando’s arms still around your shoulder. Lando unlocked his car, and you got into the passenger seat. You and Lando sang along to whatever song came on the radio, your little disagreement long forgotten.

Getting out of the car, Lando walked in front of you into the restaurant, playing with your fingers. You bumped into his back when he stopped at the welcome table. Lando rested his hand on your shoulder as he led you over to the table where there were at least twelve drivers and some girlfriends.

Lando sat down, and you sat down next to him. Lando instantly joined in on a conversation and picked up the menu. Pierre’s girlfriend Francisca introduced herself to you as she sat next to you. She gently rubbed your arm with a smile

“I promise the more you’re around these people, the less intimidating they get. Have you seen anything you want to eat?” She smiled politely, and only now had you realised that you hadn’t even looked at the menu since you got here. Obviously, you looked before you left the hotel room

“I haven’t looked at the menu yet” you replied, and she nodded

“The spaghetti is really nice if you’re looking for suggestions” She smiled, and you picked up the menu, looking at it. Lando caught your eye as the waitress took everyones drink orders

“Are you planning on going to university?” Charles asked from the other side of the table

“Not just now. I want to follow Lando around the world for a little bit. School is fun but travelling sounds like more fun” You smiled, and he nodded

“I think you’ll love travelling” He smiled. The waitress came back with your drinks and took the food orders. Only ordering a main and dessert, both of which where you go to meals wherever you go to eat.

“No starter?” Lando asked, and you shook your head

“There’s nothing safe” you muttered, and he nodded, rubbing your arm. Lando knew exactly what you meant. There was nothing on the menu that tasted the exact same wherever you ate, and most of it you had never tried before. Lando joined back in with conversations with other drivers as you took the time to look around the restaurant, taking in the decorations.

The lights were dim, which made it quite relaxing. There were plants dotted around the restaurant that looked fake, but they ranged from succulents to pretty flowers. On the table there was little lanterns with some fake tea lights inside and in the middle of all the tables that were pushed together ,a bouquet of flowers, they were fake but beautiful with flowers like roses, carnations, eucalyptus and gypsophila all in a colour scheme that matched the restaurant.

“So Y/N any fun childhood stories of Lando?” Pierre asked, and you nodded

“He once sent me to the hospital” you shrugged, catching Lando rolling his eyes. Max laughed, already knowing the story because it actually happened during lockdown while Lando was gaming with both Max’s and some of Quadrant.

“That’s not a childhood story” Lando exclaimed

“I was still a child when it happened!” You replied, turning to look at him

“Not a childhood story”

“You were twenty. I was like fifteen. Childhood” You argued back

“Okay. What happened, though?” Carlos asked, now interested in whatever had happened.

“Go on then. You brought it up” Lando pushed, and you rolled your eyes

“So during lockdown well, it was kinda just after lockdown while you lot were waiting for racing to start again. Lando was gaming and I went in with some snacks for him and to annoy him but he wasn’t happy that I disturbed his game so he pushed me and I fell because I have no balance and I fell into his glass cabinet” You explained and Lando pushed your arm

“You make it sound so dramatic” He rolled his eyes

“You cut my arm open! It was dramatic. Glass and your stupid helmets aren’t soft to land on” The dutchman on the other side of the table was still laughing as was George Russell who had actually been one person to ask if you were okay after Lando sent you flying. Now, you all laughed about the story.

“Any other stories?” Alex asked, and you nodded

“There’s many. Not enough time to tell them all” You were thankful that the food showed up and being high performance athletes they all instantly started eating their starters.

Ollie, who was at the end of the table next to Liam Lawson, both looked like they had been dragged here by their team members. They were both driving in Free Practice one which is why you assumed they were there. Ollie and Liam were in their own conversation, much like most of the drivers around the table. You didn’t feel like you knew anyone enough to join in on the conversations.

Lando soon brought you in on the conversation between him, Oscar, and Lily, but you now had to sit and try and figure out what they were talking about. Ah, being at school while connected to F1. Lily explained her experience of random people asking her for her autograph.

“Any experience like that Y/N?” Lily asked, and you shook your head

“I actually hid everything about Lando up until graduation when he showed up at it. When he got into F1, I changed my phone wallpaper to a subtle picture of the two of us. Blocked Lando’s main from my instagram following until like the last week of school. I did everything to hide it. Not because I’m embarrassed or anything, just I’m a lot more introverted than Lando” Lily nodded in understanding

“It’s not easy. I bet everyone freaked out at graduation” She chuckled, and you nodded

“Our sixth form group chat really blew up when everyone spotted him just sitting there. At first no one knew who he was there for until he got a bit too excited when my name was called then the group chat blew up even more especially with the girls who just wanted to date him. The fans were too shocked to do anything” You laughed

“Then Ollie followed me, so the sixth form group chat blew up even more to the point I had to mute it” Ollie looked up as you said his name, and you smiled over

“I follow you as well” Oscar added, and you nodded

“Yeah but one you’ve got a girlfriend and two you’re still kinda new to the sport” You shrugged, and he nodded

“Fair enough” He shrugged as the main meals arrived. You started to eat yours but soon realised that it wasn’t as good as you thought it would be or maybe that was just the nerves of eating in front of so many new people. Lando’s arm rested on the back of your chair as he rubbed your shoulder. You turned to look at him, and he gave you a soft smile

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, nudging his head towards your plate

“Just not too hungry” you replied, and he nodded.

Soon, you were back in the hotel laying on your bed as Lando sat on your bed

“Are you sure everything's okay? You don’t have to travel with me” Lando turned to look at you

“I think it was just anxiety. I don’t know anyone too well yet” you replied, and he nodded

“Okay well I promise I’ll help you get to know everyone. I think Ollie seemed happy to help you meet everyone” He smiled, and you looked down

“Yeah, I’m sure he would probably” You smiled, and he nodded, moving back to his own bed. You went back to texting Ollie secretly

Previous Next Part

Tag List

@bearryyy

@molten-m122

@thewannabewriter

@lozzamen3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@mxdi0

@f1kenzzz

@seasonswinter

@ellen3101

@via-ferns

@taygrls

@urfavsgf

@hwalllllllelujah

@vicurious28

@ririyulife

@taronyuhunter

@llando4norris

@sbrn0905

607 notes · View notes

subbmissivesuccubus · 11 days

Text

I don't know if this kink has a name but I am just obsessed with super casual boob play lmao

Also!!?? Thank you guys for helping me reach 2K followers! It's so exciting and i've been having so much fun writing and reading the smut on this website. Here's to many more stories which hopefully give you the tingles <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright, so that's the groceries we need for this week."

"Mmm."

"Oh, don't forget to buy flowers! It's my moms birthday tomorrow."

"Mmm."

"Are you even listening?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at your boyfriend, the man simply staring at you.

"Mmm."

"Ok, so that's a no." you said, rolling your eyes before snapping your fingers in front of your boyfriends face, the man jumping and blinking a few times as he was brought back to reality.

"Can you pay attention now?" you asked sternly.

"Sorry. I was too busy staring at your tits." he said honestly, making you sigh. There he goes again with his very obvious boob obsession, your man having a clear fetish for your breasts.

"Well, if you continue to ignore me, you won't see my boobs for a week."

"Or, you flash them to me now, I promise I'll remember every single word you say."

"Oh my God."

"Come here, baby. Come here." he begged, hands reaching out to quickly grab you by the hips and drag you forward, his nails digging into the fabric of your skirt as he all but manhandled you onto his lap, smiling at you as he got your legs to straddle his waist.

"You're a degenerate." you snarled as you placed your hands on his shoulder, more than familiar with this particular song and dance.

"I'm your degenerate. And besides, this is your fault you know." he said, casually fisting the hem of your t-shirt before pulling it up, "If you didn't have such perfect titties, I wouldn't be like this!"

"So you weren't obsessed with boobs before you met me?" you questioned, allowing him to tug the t-shirt upto your chin, the man greedily looking at your bra covered breasts. Not having the patience to take the shirt off of you completely, he simply pulled it over your head so it looped around the back of your neck, your arms still in the sleeves but he didn't care as all he wanted was access to his favorite part of you.

"Of course not." he said confidently as he all but face planted into your cleavage, groaning in delight as he pushed his face in as deep as he could go, "I only got obsessed when you came into the picture."

You huffed, trying to fight the blood rushing to your face and between your legs as you fisted a hand through his hair, tugging at it a bit as you got his attention:

"Are you going to listen to me now?"

"Mmhmm." your boyfriend groaned, nodding a yes against your boobs, truly happy being surrounded by your plump flesh. Sighing, you once again told him what he needed to buy for groceries, allowing him to grope and kiss you wherever he wanted. His tongue ran over your skin, huffing and humming in response every time you asked him if he was listening.

He soon pushed your bra up as well, too eager to bother unhooking it as he placed it against your collarbone, the elastic of the band digging into your skin and making your tits look even more delicious than before. He opened his mouth and took a nipple in, closing his eyes as he started suckling gently, his arms wrapped around you and pulling you in closer.

"H-Hey..." you moaned, gripping his hair tighter as he suckled on you, "It's getting late. You need to leave before the stores close."

"Mmhmm. I know." he muttered against you, tongue coming out to flick at your nipples a few times before he moved to the other breast, giving her the same treatment, "Just- fuck- give me a minute."

You sighed, jumping as you felt his hands move down to your ass, taking greedy gropes of your butt as he lost himself in the sensation of your breast in his mouth.

Yeah, you were not getting your groceries today.

~~~~~

You slipped away from the group of friends in the living room to your bedroom, wanting to get your phone which had hopefully finished charging by now. As you were checking your phone and responding quickly to a few messages, you suddenly felt a hand on your waist that swiftly moved upwards and groped your right breast.

"Eh-hey!" you hissed softly, head snapping back towards your boyfriend, his touch so familiar that you instantly knew it was him, "Cut it out! We have guests!"

"I know but I just need one suck, ok?" he asked even as his other hand came up to start unbuttoning your shirt dress, "I'll be super quick, I promise."

"You- ah!" you squealed as he got the buttons undone enough to expose your bra, his fingers digging into the cup of the right side to pull it down, revealing your bare breast to the crisp air. He turned you around and quickly bent down and took the nipple into his mouth. Your head kept snapping between him sucking your nipple and the door, on edge as if anyone walks in, it would be very obvious.

Your man groaned as he suckled on your nipple, eyelashes tickling your skin as he closed his eyes. The sound of the TV and chattering was loud enough to thankfully drown out his groans, your boyfriend suckling you so hard it made your toes curl.

"Wh-you-" you hissed as his hand quickly pulled down the other cup of your bra and exposed your other breast, "You said only one!"

"I know but I can't not suck her too!" he protested, giving your left nipple a greedy lick, "she'll get jealous!"

"What the fuck are you talking abooouuttt!" you gasped as he suddenly took the nipple in and sucked on it as well, just as vigorously. You stood there for a few seconds, allowing your maniac of a boyfriend to suck and feel you up before he finally pulled away.

"Just what I needed. Thank you baby." he said, kindly helping you stuff your tits back into your bra and right your dress, giving your tits a final squeeze before he walked out of the room, leaving you a frustrated mess with your nipples tingling.

What a menace.

~~~~~

It was movie night, one of your favorite ways to spend time together. It was always a treat to just relax with your boyfriend, put on a random movie, eat popcorn and talk.

And of course, he also loved that he gets to play with your tits the whole time.

You huffed as your boyfriend pulled you onto his lap, his legs spread wide to accommodate you between them. Bowl of popcorn in hand, you munched away at the treat even as your man slid his hands up your shirt, aiming for your breasts.

"Ew, why are you wearing a bra?" he asked, clicking his tongue as his hands got in contact with the soft fabric.

"Sometimes I like having my boobs supported by something, ok? Fucking sue me."

"You don't need a bra to support your tits when you have my hands. I'm taking it off."

Before you could even protest, your man slid his hands to your back and unhooked the bra masterfully, practically an expert at it at this point. He was about to push the straps down your arms and pull the bra out from under your shirt but then he realized- why are you wearing a shirt? You might as well be topless as he was going to play with your boobs the whole time anyway.

So with your shirt and bra tossed onto the floor, you tried your best to focus on the movie playing on screen even as your boyfriend happily groped away at your tits. Ample flesh spilling out between his fingers, he squeezed you like a toy- like your tits were something he could use to alleviate stress. Occasionally, he'd flick his fingers over your nipples, working them up to stiff peaks before gently pinching them between his thumb and index finger. He'd place his hands underneath your breasts, cupping them before he bounced them up and down, loving the feeling of your heavy flesh landing on his palms, the ripple of your breasts on impact instantly making his cock hard.

And of course, as usual, once he was done playing with his hands (which was practically an hour long activity), he'll move onto his mouth. Your body automatically moved along with him as he lifted you up a bit higher onto his lap, looping an arm over his shoulder so he had the space to lean down and take a nipple into his mouth.

"Y-You're not even watching the movie, are you?"

"Mm-mmm" he responded, shaking his head no against your breast, his response making you shiver. You rolled your eyes and continued to watch the movie, failing at it even before he started sliding his hand into your pants.

~~~~~

Of course, your boob obsessed boyfriend can't sleep unless it's on said boobs.

"Take it offfff!" he whined, wrestling with you as he harshly tugged at your shirt.

"It's cold!" you protested as you tried to pull the fabric back down over you, "I'm going to freeze!"

"I'll keep you warm! You know the rules- no clothes in bed."

"You're wearing clothes!"

"Yes but I don't have a pair of delicious tits that are just begging to be suckled!"

"Oh my God- fine, how about this?" you asked, slapping his hand away from your shirt before you pulled up upto your chin, flashing him your bare boobs, "Just get in here and I get to keep the shirt on."

"...Why didn't you just say so?"

You grunted as you were tackled, pushed to lie down on the bed as your boyfriend landed on top of you, face first into your tits. You pulled your shirt over his head, covering the dopey smile on his face as he used his hands to push your tits against him, shaking his head from side to side as he motorboated you.

He thankfully still had some sense to pull the blanket over the two of you and you were able to dim the lights, whipping your phone out so you can get some screen time before you went to sleep. You felt wetness on your left nipple, your boyfriend finally done with shaking your fat tits in his face.

His tongue ran in circles over the hard bud, dragging it slowly as he knew he could take his time. He started flicking your bud harshly, his hot tongue making you shiver with each flick. Eventually, he sealed his lips around it, groaning happily as he started to suck. He was noisy- moaning like he was eating a delicious meal and the slobbering noises of him feasting on you making your ears ring, the pressure he used to suckle on you keeping you on your toes.

As he sucked on the left one, his hand came up to play with the right, toying with her as he got her ready to be sucked next. He rubbed the nipple around with his thumb before pinching it gently, giving her a few twists once in awhile. He was latched onto the same nipple for almost 30 minutes before he moved onto the next one, but not before dragging himself from underneath your shirt and pushing the fabric upto your chin.

Fuck it. You were falling asleep and now your body was running hot so you didn't really care.

"Baby... I want-" he gave your nipple a kiss before he snuggled his face into the fat of your breast before looking up at you, "I want to drink your milk. Make it for me."

"How many biology lessons did you fail for you to think that's possible?" you asked, your eyelids drooping and voice heavy.

"Why are you not pregnant yet? I cum in you like, everyday."

"...You know I'm still on birth control."

"I know but I'm confident I can defeat it."

"Mmkay, keep dreaming. Now shut up- i'm gonna sleep."

"...Stop taking your birth control."

"I'm not having a baby just so you can drink some breast milk."

"Of course not. We'll have a baby because we're in love and we'll be together forever!"

You opened one eye and looked down at him, letting him know you were not impressed.

"...And so I can drink your milk."

"Just keep sucking or sleep."

He pouted before he took your left nipple into his mouth.

~~~~~

Gojo Satoru, Haibara, Shanks, Sanji, Luffy, Ace, Kaeya, Kaveh, Childe, Cyno, Itto, Uzui, Sanemi, Eren, Jean etc. etc.

#subby writes #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut #genshin impact smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #uzui smut #one piece smut #shanks smut #luffy smut #sanji smut #haibara smut #ace smut #kaeya smut #childe smut #itto smut #sanemi smut #eren jaeger smut #jean smut

616 notes · View notes

gyeomsweetgyeom · 16 days

Text

[8:08 am]

reference pic!

(cw: a child)

CEO!Jaemin's phone was ringing like crazy in his pocket, and yet as hard as he tried not to let it bother him, it was bothering him. He had let his assistant know he would be in late and to let everyone that needed to know know, so why was he getting calls?

His daughter's small hand was held in his own while she skipped and ran her fingers through the bushes and plants against along the sidewalk while she sang to herself. She was so cute.

Jaemin even had to admit he was proud of how put-together she looked this morning. Her hair looked neat, which was a struggle and a half since she was very picky since you always "did it better." Since the last time he did her hair, he'd made you be his model so he could learn some simple hairstyles for when you weren't able to do her hair. It was the best ponytail he'd ever done and he made sure to take tons of pictures to show you later.

This morning you'd left earlier than usual to handle some business which meant it was up to Jaemin to get his daughter ready and to school. They'd left on time and parked a ways away so they could walk and look at the flowers. Jaemin could never say no to his daughter- it was a real problem.

He sighed as he begrudgingly pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly tightening his hold on his daughter’a hand and adjusting the pink hello kitty backpack on his shoulder. “Hello?” He asked bluntly into the phone.

“Mr. Na, I’m sorry. I know you’re coming in late, but one of the board members came in early and is requesting a meeting. I’ve already told him you won’t be in right away but I can hear him leaving you messages. Maybe, don’t listen to them with your daughter around…” his assistant explained nervously.

Jaemin sighed, sending his daughter a bright smile when her concerned face turned to look up at him, “just let him know I’ll be there in 20. While you’re at it, please contact the rest of the board members and remind them about basic etiquette. Never mind, I’ll do that myself. I’ll be there in 20. Thanks for the heads up.”

He hangs up the phone and steps through the gates of his daughter’s school. He walks her to the door where other students and parents are looking at him with wonder. He can hear the mothers whispering about how handsome he looks and the dads mumbling about his he wasn’t all that. He laughed it off and crouched down to his daughter’s height.

He pulled the fluffy backpack off his shoulder and helped his daughter put it on. A backpack that was just over half her size, but she begged and begged, so of course Jaemin got it for her. He swore he saw some of the teachers in the hall fan themselves at that. He was going to have a blast telling you all about the fawning women later.

“Ok, are you going to be good today?” He asked his daughter in a soft voice.

She nodded dutifully, her pony tail bouncing up and down. He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “good girl. I’ll see you later. Love you, baby girl.”

“I love you mostest!” His daughter smiles, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek before she darts off into the hallway.

Jaemin watches her with a bittersweet feeling. She was growing up too fast, just a few months ago she would cling to your legs and beg you not to leave her. Now, she was running off without even looking back.

Or so he thought, she got to her class and turned to Jaemin with a smile that resembled his own, and waved. Good, now he could get through the day.

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #jaemin x reader #jaemin imagines #jaemin timestamps #jaemin blurbs #jaemin fluff #jaemin scenarios

672 notes · View notes

ajortga · 3 months

Text

sweet

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: after filming, jenna decides to relax for some coffee, not expecting to meet you and fall in love with girl that makes her knees weak.

word count: 1.9k+

part 2

Jenna can remember meeting you like it was yesterday.

At a coffee shop, not too far from the scream set in New York City.

She roamed around, it was evening, the sun was going to set soon, Jenna could tell the way the sky slightly became yellow, getting the slightest pink.

Jenna liked sunsets.

She had just finished filming for a scene, her headphones were on and she needed some fresh air.

Her noise cancellation was on, walking the streets as she felt her stomach rumble quietly, she was hungry.

She looked around for a place to snack as she looked around, a famous pizzeria was definitely not what she needed.

She turned a corner and she saw a place that was made out of caramel bricks, plants neatly outside with vines hanging from head to toe, she could see the warm welcoming presence on the inside, lanterns hung from the ceiling.

She didn’t really like coffee.

It was so bitter the first time she tried it, of course she didn't know (till recently) that she ordered black coffee with no sugar or creme and almost choked it out.

So she stopped, if anything it added less sleep along with her insomnia.

But she went anyway, the vibe felt comforting. Plus there had to be more than just bitter coffee.

She pushed the door open, a small ding being heard.

Then she could smell the soft scent of coffee and fresh pastries lingering, she felt her hands cold, but her gaze shifts up, and she can feel her whole body warm, like a cozy fire, suddenly, she felt nothing but a daze of love shock.

Her eyes meet your figure, your hair was in a messy bun, a ruffled beige apron tucked around your body over a blouse, pouring creamer in a latte cup, a flower design being made as you traced the coffee with soft hands.

Your focused eyes shift from the cup to her, she can see a small glow in your warmth, they soften as you smile, waving. Softly, but loud enough to hear over her headphones, you saying, “Welcome!”

She can feel her lips twitch into a smile, tucking her scarf beneath the nape of her neck, it was already warm enough here.

She looked up at the menu, so much to choose from.. And so many flavors.

She bit her lip, in thought as she was stuck, there was a lot.

But so much coffee, she may have not liked coffee the best, but coffee with this many flavors could change her mind.

She was there for a long moment, until you spoke up, you were in front of her, thinking she was going to order, she was standing in front of the cashier after all.

“Trouble choosing what you want?” You ask, tilting your head.

That took her out of her trance, taking her headphones off and wrapping them around her neck. She finally realized where she was standing, in front of the damn register.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I can be kind of clueless when I have headphones on, uh, um. Oh yes, I’m not so sure what to get, I’ve never been here.”

You give her a smile, and she can swear she feels her legs wobble, she could drown in those eyes. So pretty..

“Don’t apologize, please. Don’t worry, it’s okay not knowing what you want, to be honest I think you would like a drink. I think you would like our french vanilla or pumpkin spice latte.. With a sprinkle of cinnamon. How does that sound? This is just my recommendation, I could be wrong, but I think I can read what people should get pretty well! They end up liking it. Don’t count on me though,” You breathe with a little laugh. You sound adorable when you laugh. Your lips are perfect. Kissable.

She feels something she hasn’t felt in so long, butterflies.

You were so sweet, something about you made her not want to tell you she didn't like caffeine or the taste.

You just called her love, if anything the color of love was on her cheeks.

“I.. Um.. Yes, I’ll take that. Can you mix those?…”She was going to say your name but didn’t know it, looking down at your name tag, Y/N/L/N. “Uh.. Oh Y/N."

“Of course I can! One french vanilla spice coming up! Anything else you would like? Our pastries just came out of the oven if you’re in the mood for that.”

You were pretty. Unlike any other stranger she'd see on the street before.

Jenna looked at the display, her hand pointing to where her eyes landed, “I’ll take one of your strawberry croissants, I never tried that.”

“You never had these? These are perfectly sweet and soft! They’re my favorite. That’ll be $8.13 please.”

She grabbed her card and swiped it, and you smiled, “Thank you Jenna, give me 5 minutes or so.” You looked at the name of her card.

You look at the names of her customers from their card, how cute. You definitely wanted her. (Or so her delusional brain thought.)

After a few minutes of sitting down and lost in her thoughts from the music, (possibly staring at you preparing her drink the whole time,) she hears you call her name in the distance.

Something about your voice had the slightest softness, she never loved someone calling her her name more than now. Y/N/L/N. Your name is pretty. It'll be even prettier when your last name is hers when you're married-

She walked up to you and you handed her a light brown tray, with her latte in a cup, the design with a pumpkin with a small heart on it, and her powdered strawberry croissant.

“Thank you.” She whispers, taking it gently and going back.

She sits down in the corner of the room, a booth with a pumpkin decoration and vinyls hung, she could see the steam fogging in front of her and just realizes how cold it really is.

She smells cinnamon, a small whiff of it.

She likes the smell of cinnamon. It reminds her of her childhood home on Christmas when snickerdoodles were being made.

She smells vanilla too.

She likes vanilla. She likes vanilla more than chocolate.

Her hands lifts the mug to her lips and drinks.

Immediately she feels the warmth seep through her like a gentle river, she hums at the taste.

The vanilla battles the strong bitterness of the coffee, leaving the smallest trail behind.

The pumpkin spice, she can taste it in the cream, it reminds her of fall.

It tastes comforting. It tastes like the feel of a steamy creamy soup that you have when it’s pouring rain outside.

It makes her feel soothed. Cozy. Like she’s in her own Gilmore Girls show herself.

Her lips press to the mug for the second time, sipping it again and it tastes so good. It’s not too sweet nor bitter. It tastes perfect. It warmed her whole body up, even with the freezing temperature.

She places the mug down on the wooden coaster, she’s never had a strawberry croissant before.

And when she has a taste, she wants to buy the whole shop. Why has she never heard of this before?

There's a sweet fluffy cream in the middle, she can feel powdered sugar coating her lips as she licks them.

It tasted sweet. It was light and delicious, the custard complimenting the sweetened strawberry. Who knew bread could pair with such.

“Is it okay for you?””

She turns around and sees you, it seems like the rest of the customers had to go out before the pouring rain began to crash harder.

“It was more than okay, it was so good. I need that recipe,” Jenna jokes, making you laugh.

“The croissant is my grandma’s recipe. I remember she made it when I first started baking in the kitchen. She thought it was so good that she had to put it on this cafe’s menu. For the latte on the other hand, you just have to know balance and what tastes right.”

Jenna’s slim hands waved a 5 dollar bill in the air, in which you immediately shook your head.

“Take it,” she giggles.

“No, it’s yours.”

"No."

"Yes."

"If you keep it I'll give you my number."

... That was tempting for you.

“I wasn’t a big fan of caffeine in general. It was always too bitter or too sweet. I think it ruined the experience for me to try anymore. Take this as a word that I’ll be coming often,” she gave you a sweet smile, giving you a piece of paper on top of the money.

You looked at her with, a small grin forming on your face as you looked up, “You win. Thank you. look forward to you being a regular. I'll make your coffee extra lovely and sweet next time," you said with a wink that made Jenna blush.

Jenna’s smile never faltered as she left the coffee shop, seeing your number on her phone as she placed it in her back pocket. But as she tried to slide it in, it seemed a bit cramped as she took out the piece of paper that was blocking it.

A five dollar bill. The five dollar bill she gave you.

She sighed, shaking her head with a small laugh, you were a smartass sliding the money she gave you back into her pocket without her knowing.

She folded it in her hands, looking back at the coffee shop, wanting to give it back and run so you couldn’t do anything. But as she looked back she could see the fairy lights on the sign dimming, your face behind the glass. You gave her a small playful wink as you flipped the sign to closed, your breath blew on the glass, putting a small heart on the fogginess and walked away.

Something in Jenna made her heart flutter, wanting to go to the coffee shop every day. Every. Single. Day.

But why? When she goes to restaurants she doesn’t seem excited to come again.

She could feel her cheeks heating up as she realized it was because of you. She wanted to come because of you and see your face, to see you giving her that smile or calling her name, to hear your voice as you talked to her, to see your pretty eyes glance down to her lips every once a while once again.

4:25pm

maybe y/n: sweet seeing you today, hope you didn't mind some money back, this is all i need :)

4:28pm

jenna: ooh. getting sweet already? hmmm, you're sneaky! maybe i'll pay you another visit tomorrow. (you reacted with 💗)

maybe y/n: aww, for me?

jenna: i wouldn't count on ittt but maybe it's a 50/50

4:30pm

maybe y/n: i don't think a customer would ask for someones phone number as an agreement?

4:35pm

jenna: you got me there

maybe y/n: i know i did jen :p

maybe y/n: don't get ahold of yourself, i still have to know you better ml

jenna: then tomorrow is set.

maybe y/n: tomorrow it issss (jenna reacted with a 😗)

She covered her face and let out a small groan as she came home, her back hitting the mattress as she looked up at the ceiling. She could feel a small grin forming on her face as her eyes sparkled, her nose scrunching.

She liked the girl who lay behind the mug of coffee.

She liked you.

a/n: wanted to take a small break on requests, i think i should focus on thinking of my ideas instead of doing request one by one from my inboxes, if that makes sense. requests are soon!

i'm not sure if i'll take some because sometimes these requests don't have any of my ideas in mind so it's hard to write something that feels good<3. enjoy this cute long ish drabble that i made a few months back but never finished<3

#wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter x you #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x female reader

597 notes · View notes

simpforboys · 1 year

Note

Hii!! I saw u were doing smut so i had to askk,

Could u do a Neteyam x Metkayina!Reader(aged up, obvi) where during a festival they’re getting drunk and stuff, shes talking to her girl friends about neteyam and she doesnt realise neteyam is heard her, she says out loud, “I taught him how to ride Ilu, He better let me ride his dick.” And they burst out laughing.

Soon after, its just them alone (AND SOBER) and he does end up teaching her how to ride. Well not really teach, he just lets her ride.

oh my god. yes.

how to ride

neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: neteyam overhears you sharing some private thoughts to your friends. he lets those thoughts become reality.

warnings: smut!! riding, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, dom!neteyam, fluff, swearing, mentions of dirty thoughts, praise kink, creampie

aged up!neteyam (around 20), aged up!loak (around 18)

“you’re coming to the welcoming party, right?” you walked up to neteyam, hip popped out as you carried a basket on your other hip.

“ooh! a party!” tuk said excitedly.

“sorry, tuk. grown ups only.” neteyam ruffled the child’s hair causing her to groan in frustration.

neteyam beamed up at you, your curly hair falling behind your back with a shell placed on top of your head. you had a tribal tattoo that went from your elbow to your neck, the tattoo swirling around your left breast, and a bright smile. you were gorgeous, one of the prettiest girls in the village.

the prettiest to neteyam.

being the older sister of tsireya and ao’nung, your father had instructed you to help the sully kids adapt.

but when the teenagers and kids slept, the adults wanted to have their own adapting.

so you organized a party that would have the metkayina famous root, a root that would get the drinker drunk within a few sips.

“i’ll be there, y/n.” neteyam nodded at you. you grinned, waving bye to tuk as you walked away, neteyam watching your hips sway.

that night, there were around 20-30 villagers who heard about the party and wanted to come.

you had dove down to where the root was planted, a sacred place by the cove of ancestors.

a flower was in your hair as you spoke to your friends, zeswa, syon, sìla, and niyi. your smile was bright as you peeked over at neteyam, the boy standing awkwardly with his brother.

you left your friends, neteyam silently thanking you as he felt outcasted with lo’ak.

“you need to try this.” you gave him a cup of the root, the scent strong as neteyam’s eyes narrowed.

“is it poison?” he asked, a joking tone in his voice.

“no,” you laughed. neteyam smiled.

“it does get you drunk, however.” you warned him, not wanting the strength to surprise him.

neteyam eyed you curiously.

“watch,” you grabbed your own drink. raising the glass to your lips, neteyam suddenly became very hot at you swallowing the drink down your throat.

within seconds, your pupils dilated and you became more giggly.

“c’mon… ‘teyam…” you slurred your words. lo’ak looked at his brother, shrugging in response as he took a couple sips. his ears went straight up as he coughed on the liquid. the site made neteyam’s curiosity get the best of him, and he took a single sip rather than a few.

he was tipsy, on the verge of drunk but still aware of what was going on. he’d never been buzzed before, and the way his body tingled felt strange to him.

“let’s go dance, yeah?” you dragged the boy over to where some villagers were making music with bongos and shells.

you almost tripped on the sand, neteyam grabbing you to keep you from falling.

“whoops,” you shrugged. you began to sway your hips, letting the island music take over your body as your friends came to join you.

the girls smiled at neteyam, the boy giving them a nod in return. lo’ak began to wander off, neteyam following him so he didn’t lose his wasted brother.

you, however, were giggling loudly with your friend group.

“he is so dreamy…” zeswa awed as neteyam walked away.

“i hate seeing him go, but i love to watch him leave.” sìla joked, seeing the way his braids swayed behind him as he walked.

your friends continued their awing and comments about neteyam, the root making it so none of you realized that he had soon returned with his sibling.

“i mean, i taught neteyam how to ride an ilu properly. i think i should be able to ride his dick, y’know?” you smirked, giggling drunkly to your friends.

neteyam’s face grew warm as he heard you speaking about him in such a manner. his ears fell flat and his tail wagged quickly.

the processing thought that you, the chief's eldest daughter, wanted to have intercourse with him, made neteyam's blush deepen. his body was very hot, a prideful grin creeping onto his face.

➽─────────────────❥

one of the better effects of the root was the lack of hangover. you were up bright and early once more, helping tuk feed the ilus.

neteyam suddenly became very aware of the way your beaded shell top showed the curve of your breasts. water dripped down your body, your hair being the main cause.

you had apparently redone your hair that morning. you put your hair in a half up-half down ponytail, twists leading to the band that held it together. shells and little flowers were scattered in your hair, and neteyam swore you couldn't get any prettier.

you had bent over a bit, the loincloth showing the curve of your ass. neteyam didn't realize he was staring so intently until lo'ak patted his shoulders.

"you should get in on that, big bro."

neteyam scoffed, pushing his brother off of him.

the man began to walk over to you and his youngest sister, his heart swelling at tuk's happiness.

"i love her so much!" tuk petted the animal's slimy head as you grinned.

"rewon (morning), neteyam." you bowed your head to him, your innocent eyes causing neteyam to feel nervous.

did you mean what you said last night?

he wanted to ask so badly, but he knew it wasn't the time or the place. he bowed his head back, mutual respect as he moved to stand next to you.

"want to go for a ride later?" he asked suddenly, the subtle comment making your ears snap up. neteyam noticed the way you flustered up and he wondered if he ruined it.

"i would love to, neteyam." you agreed, beginning to overthink the question. had he heard you last night?

you were beyond embarrassed, even though there was a chance he had no hidden intent behind his question. but the way he had a hint of perversity in his eyes, you couldn't help but let your mind wander.

when you finally had a chance to sneak off, neteyam followed you as you ventured off inside the reef. his ilu chased yours as you laughed underwater, sticking your tongue out at him as he couldn't quite keep up.

you lead your ilus to a secluded little island, a place you liked to go when things became too much.

neteyam sat next to you on the sand, watching the way the sun almost met the moon.

there was a comfortable silence, yet a tension neither of you could explain. neteyam let his eyes roam your long legs, the material of your loincloth bunched up at your hips so he could see the dip of your thighs.

you could feel neteyam's eyes on you. your pussy began to react, a slight throb in your clit as you pushed your hair back off your shoulders.

"did you mean what you said last night?" neteyam's bold question threw you off.

"about....?"

you wanted to play it off, scared that he thought disgustingly of you.

"about riding me."

you swallowed nervously as he watched you with starving eyes. you peered up at him, the normal bright color now dark with dilated pupils.

"yes." you mumbled lowly, he almost didn't hear it.

neteyam's hand went to your jaw, his breath fanning over your face.

"is this okay?" he breathed out, his chest rising and falling with every deep breath he took. you nodded, connecting your lips to his in a heated kiss.

neteyam purred as you pushed him back on the sand, your lips still connected. you hovered over him, your clit throbbing from the kissing.

neteyam was resting on his elbow, his other hand still holding your face against him as he slipped his tongue in your mouth.

within seconds, you were kissing your way down his toned body. he continued to purr like a forest cat, his hand sneaking its way into your hair.

"you're so beautiful, y/n." he hummed out. you blushed, sucking a hicky on his v-line.

you untied his loincloth, his throbbing dick springing up. you marveled at the sight, noticing the way you began to salivate.

"y/n-" neteyam whimpered as you sucked his tip. he threw his head back as you jerked him off, swirling your tongue around the head.

he was panting, the hair on his tail tickling against your cunt as he moved his tail.

the noises he was making was unlike anything you imagined. knowing he was whimpering for you only made you hornier.

"honey," you watched the way his stomach fell. he unknowingly bucked his hips into your throat, gripping your ponytail as you gagged around him.

"doing so good for me."

his praise caused you to moan around him, the vibration almost making him cum. your long nails raked along his striped thighs as he used your throat, chasing his orgasm.

"oh, fuck," he moaned as he came. eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back as he shot thick cum down your throat.

you smirked against him, pulling your mouth off him as he came back from eywa.

"you're so cute, 'teyam." you kissed him once more, untying your own loincloth as you moved to hover above him.

you grinded your soaked cunt against his hard cock, patting his head at your clit. you both moaned into each other's mouths as you put him inside of you.

neteyam placed one hand on your hip, the other on your breast. he rolled your hard nipple in between his fingers, you breaking the kiss to moan out.

"so big, 'teyam."

your comment made neteyam's ego burst. seeing you sitting on his cock on an island on the edge of the reef, knowing that at any moment someone could look for you both made him only harder.

you moved your hips, beginning to twerk on his cock. his tip brushed at your g-spot and you mewled as he rubbed your clit.

"good girl," neteyam slapped your ass.

"this is what you wanted, yeah? to ride my big cock?" neteyam began to lose himself as you used his cock to get off.

you nodded quickly, eyes rolling back from the pleasure.

"feels so good," you moaned.

the erotic sense that the chief's daughter was fucking herself dumb on his cock made his stomach tighten. his father would surely kill him if he were to find out about this, but neteyam didn't care.

for once, he was thinking about himself. he wanted you, needed you. he knew you were to be his mate, and he was going to allow himself to be selfish in this moment.

neteyam grabbed your waist, pulling you down as he held you against him. he rutted his hips roughly into yours, his balls hitting your ass as you screamed out in pleasure.

"take it, baby."

he sucked on your nipple as you dug your nails into his shoulder. your curls were bouncing as his braids swung against his neck and shoulders, the harshness of his hips causing his body to shake.

"fuck, neteyam!" you squealed.

"who's this pussy belong to?" neteyam asked.

"you! my pussy belongs to you, neteyam!"

you were seeing stars as his cock drove itself into your cervix. you were becoming lightheaded from the pleasure, your stomach tightening as you clenched around his cock.

"come on, ma y/n. cum on this dick."

you pushed your hips back onto his as your pussy clenched around him, your body shaking as you came.

"oh, fuck me." you cried out as he kept going.

neteyam loosened his hold on you as he helped you bounce on his cock, wanting to cum. he was close with the way you tightened on him.

"you gonna take my cum, baby?" he asked you.

you nodded feverishly, so lost in the overstimulation of pleasure. you never got to recover from your orgasm, and neteyam began rubbing on your clit again.

you were soon about to hit your second as neteyam grabbed your hips, holding you down on his cock as he came inside of you. hot spurts of cum painted itself on your walls, the feeling causing you to come again.

you fell on top of him, legs weak as he held you against his chest.

"so good to me, so good," neteyam kissed your forehead as you recovered.

"that was better than i imagined." you joked, cuddling yourself into him as his cock slipped out of you. cum began to leave your cunt, but he pushed it back inside of you.

neteyam grinned.

"oel ngati kameie (i see you). i see inside of you, into your mind, heart, body, and soul." neteyam brushed your messy hair out of your face.

tears welled in your eyes as you caressed his check, your finned hand going down to his jaw.

"i see you, ma neteyam. i always have, ever since you came to my island, and i always will."

neteyam's smile was so wide as he kissed you once more.

——-

tags: @mayhemories @useryourbut

#simpforboys #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam fluff #best boy neteyam #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam angst #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x reader #avatar 2 #avatar 2022 #avatar way of water #avatar neteyam

3K notes · View notes

asvterias · 4 months

Text

𝖡𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖣𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝖣𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 + 𝖣𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀!𝖢𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝖫𝖺 𝖱𝗎𝖾

clarisse masterlist

clarisse la rue ✘ black!fem!demigod!reader (daughter of demeter)

word count: 1.3k+

author’s note: black!reader is described of having blonde hair. also hair texture is (h/t).

requested from anonymous!

the couple is definitely opposites attract, sunshine lover x sunshine protector, & friends to lovers! you can’t change my mind about that, this defines their relationship from the start!

at first, your relationship was kept a secret from everyone! no one expected your relationship from a mile away, not even your own half-siblings. you were the sweetest girl at the camp whereas clarisse was the meanest girl there so you understood their assumptions.

(annabeth had a hunch, but she kept quiet wanting to respect your private relationship)

she was the hot-tempered, intense, and mean gf whilst you were the calm, sweet, and loving mediator gf.

you were soft-spoken, kind, sweet, often being an optimist, inheriting those traits from your mother, demeter.

favorite nickname that she loves; my dangerous wildflower!

a favorite nickname that you love: my gorgeous girl!

your love for nature was unconditional and clarisse encouraged it, as long as you were safe. from a young age, you had a deep connection with nature that your mortal father couldn’t comprehend, but he didn’t stop you. instead, he planned daily camps out in the woods so you can explore and love the outdoors.

makes sense if you’re an outdoorsy girl, considering your power is at its strongest in the woods.

throughout your daily nature walks in the mid-afternoon with clarisse, you’d kneeled down, staring at the bare soil, telekinetically growing a beautiful daisy.

“for you,” you smile, sweeping the tiny flower behind her ear, securing a loose curl.

she’d falter, surprised by the endearing action, blushing intensely as she accepted it.

“thanks, babe.”

you kiss her cheek, intertwining your hands together as you two venture deeper into the forest.

to bypass quality time spent together, you’d do the other’s favorite hobbies or go on dates.

clarisse would train you to spar, often worrying if you accidentally got hurt. to be honest, she’s constantly stopping every few seconds to make sure you’re alright.

“babe, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

“darling, we didn’t even start sparring yet.”

“just making sure, wouldn’t want my gorgeous girl to get hurt.”

forest dates were often frequent for the two of you. packing a picnic basket filled with gourmet of different treats and sweets, spreading out a blanket on the forest floor and clarisse would rest her head in your lap as you rambled on about your day. her eyes would twinkle in admiration at your tactics as you two gaze at the many clouds floating above, purely just basking in the presence of each other.

clarisse suggested that you carve your initials into a tree for your 1st year anniversary but you politely declined that. you adored the sweet and swooning suggestion but you just couldn’t, the tree would have a marking, a permanent one, and nature couldn’t erase it away. as a child of demeter, trees are emotionally bonded to you, refusing the risk of feeling the immense pain it had to endure purely for the benefit of your love with clarisse. you hoped that she understood and thankfully she did.

at first, clarisse was intimidated by your powers but didn’t let it get to her head. she was so shocked yet impressed, despite not displaying it in her facial expression.

now whenever you show her your powers, she’d witness it in complete adoration. her favorite power of yours is when you communicate with animals, specifically deer. clarisse was certain that you couldn’t get any more cuter.

your powers consisted of many:

botanokensis is the ability to mentally and/or physically summon plant life, regarding fruits and flowers.

limiting your knowledge of how dangerous some of your abilities can truly be, like toxikinesis: which allows you to control and create the amount of toxins in a plant or fungus. you hardly even use this power because of the fatality it may cause against you or others.

it’s very rare to be given atmokinesis which is the ability to control climate, everything relating to the weather. luckily you gained that ability, but with a certain amount and limited time.

based on your emotions, especially anger or sadness, taphokinesis is decay manipulation, mentally/physically decomposing only plants. truth be told, if a majority of demeter’s kids are angry, most of the flora surrounding the camp would wither in seconds, including the trees. trees are oxygen so without them, everyone is as good as dead.

initially, you’re a fantastic chef, and as your gardening skills. gardening is your favorite hobby to do and it enlightens your day. during the day, it’s common to walk upon a child of demeter, deeply invested in gardening in their spare time. they’re definitely the leaders of gardening, you can’t convince me otherwise.

cabin 4 is surrounded by wildlife, anything and everything relating to nature, due to its close proximity to the forest. inside of the cabin is very homey, green blooming vines detail the cabin as a soft-like greenery carpet covers the floor. the entire interior was similar to actual nature rather than other cabins.

you’re very close with your half-siblings as you’re one of the oldest. your siblings look up to you and you try to be a good role model for them, even teasing you whenever clarisse comes around.

i guess it's possible to be a healer too, alongside persephone’s kids, discovering the remedies for various illnesses. some of your older siblings train in health care at the camp as healers.

sometimes, you create gifts homemade, flower crowns, and flower bracelets. anything you spent your hard time and effort on, clarisse would absolutely treasure it without any second thoughts. and it goes the other way around too. like she’d be so nervous at first, rocking on her feet, barely speaking with sense as she hands you the neatly wrapped-up gift.

bubbling up with anticipation clarissse would hesitantly observe your precise movements when unwrapping the gift and to see if your reaction shifted (even just a little) when the gift was revealed.

“do you like it…?” she nervously bites her lower lip.

your eyes sparkle in astonishment at her homemade gift, “oh, i love it, babe.”

a big ass grin would overtake her features, and she’d smirk definitely thinking: ‘oh i definitely knew that she’d like this!’ as if the ares girl wasn’t completely panicking over it a few minutes ago.

as you bring her in for a kiss. your girlfriend often resisted the temptation to linger on the kiss, but this time, she didn’t.

flower crowns are her favorite gifts from you. she has saved all of them, collecting them in her cabin on her bureau for keepsakes. the flowers don’t die out, your love revives them every day. (might make this into a drabble soon 😉)

take turns braiding each other’s hair, you adore each other's hair texture, clarisse was curly and yours was (h/t).

absolutely convinced her to wear flowers in her hair and sometimes you match with the same hairstyle and the same flower. you love it so clarisse immediately adores it.

to the other campers, it’s unusual to see clarisse so happy with you, and when you weren’t beside her, that mean personality would jump out so quick.

she’d scold anyone who had anything to say about you. clarisse would also glare down whoever dares to snicker at the pretty flower used as an accessory in her hair or anywhere on her body, cherishing the gift from you and she’d go absolutely livid. how dare they make fun of your gifts?! best believe, they’ll be receiving an ass-kicking later that day.

it was more common for clarisse to fight with someone and you’d be the one tending to her injuries (mostly little to none) afterward. you swear

that she intentionally starts fights in vain, or defending your name. without explanation, she’ll show up with a cheeky grin plastered on her face as you become her little medic.

TAGS BELOW:

@lvrue @ratjoe @mag03 @st4rzl7 @kroumi @lcvved @hoku-k @p0rkbun @zhivaxo @lacytalks @bumbl-eb @idkducker @guardianspirits13 @kazerka @liv444me @skittlesgirl @korizzybee @tinkerbelle05 @mariposa555 @inejsknifes @kyuupidwrites @xanasaurusrex @cherriesnbutter @justintinderlake4 @natasha-took-fall-damage @rocknr0ll @lixtinystay @2k7-sparkles @tinytea-biscut @dearlydarlings @importantpotato @kosmichs1 @applepie972 @julietxoxo123 @k4zuhas-visi0n @urbisexualfriend @marlswhore @anominous-writer @lovelyy-moonlight @laughingcheese037 @thegiganticgirlkisser @johanna-masons-lapdog @vi0lentg0d @igotanainhistory @thewritingbarbie @gabriellabailarina @radmugpartytrash @thedisapointmentfairy @buggieau @mariswift2

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

#dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #clarisse la rue x black!reader #clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue headcannons #daughter of demeter

593 notes · View notes