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scuderiahoney · 1 day

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Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion part 6

summary: a museum visit, one far too observant teammate, and the beginning of the end of hockey season. Word Count: 7.6k

warnings: alcohol/intoxication, moderately suggestive content (non graphic), mention of previous sport injury

The first night back from the trip, after you’ve eaten dinner and unpacked and started laundry, you get a text.

Oscar: miss you

You’d been laying in bed, but you sit up, suddenly much more awake. You send a text back, quickly. miss you too. Then, wanna come over? He likes the text, and then he goes quiet. You assume you know what that means.

A little while later, there’s a knock at your front door, and you slip through the apartment to open the door for him. He’s grinning on the other side, wearing the hoodie you gave him as a welcome gift months ago, hands buried in the cuffs of the sleeves. You step aside to let him in and then shut the door. Suddenly, it all feels real. It’s 8:00 at night and Oscar’s in your apartment, not to study or do homework but because he said he missed you and you invited him over.

“It’s not spring break anymore,” he says, then shrugs. “Well. It is, but we’re here. Not at the beach.”

You nod and lean back against the wall, facing him. “Mhm. Here we are.”

When he kisses you this time, he takes his time. It’s soft and sweet and so thorough, like he’s memorizing every movement, paying attention to your every reaction. Knowing Oscar, he probably is. His hands fall to your hips, and you wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him as he crowds you against the wall. You can smell his shampoo and his cologne and just a little bit of sea breeze left over on his clothes. When his hand slips up underneath your hoodie, you sigh, and he takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth.

It sends a blaze racing down your spine. You arch into him, and he takes, hungrily, hands splayed across your lower back and pulling you closer and closer. He breaks away, leaving you panting as he draws a line of kisses down your jaw and neck. Your chest heaves.

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbles against your collarbone. You gasp. “Mm. Sound pretty, too.”

You melt, then, because really, you can’t help it. He drags you away from the doorway and into the living room, like he knows the way better than you. He sits down on the couch and waits, like he’s wondering what you’ll do. His face is soft and open, flush high on his cheeks, tips of his ears turning red. He lets out a sigh when you plant yourself right in his lap.

“This isn’t why I came over, you know,” he says, brushing his lips against your temple. “I really did miss you. That’s all.”

“Missed you too,” you say, running your hands up the firm plane of his chest. “But I’ve wanted to do this for ages, too.”

He nods, moving his lips down the swell of your cheek. “Yeah. Me too.”

He leaves your place just after midnight, and you press your fingers to your kiss swollen lips, giggling to yourself. You almost feel bad, but he’d been insistent on staying, insistent on just one more kiss, insistent on just one more episode of the show that neither of you were actually watching, too busy with your hands on each other. He’s got practice at 8:00 am. He’s going to be exhausted.

You wonder if anyone notices the blush on his cheeks when you show up at practice the next morning, or if they just attribute it to the exercise he’s gotten. You have fresh banana bread, already cut up into slices. Sebastian eyes you warily when you pop into the bench area.

“You’re going to distract them,” he says, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall to chat.

“They haven’t even noticed I’m here yet,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Here, have some banana bread, you’re grumpy when you’re hungry.”

He rolls his eyes but takes the bread anyways, and you see the smile on his face even though he tries to hide it. Shortly after that, he lets them take a break. You think back to the practices early in the season, where Oscar acted like you didn’t exist. Now he’s one of the first ones to skate over, reaching out eagerly for a piece of banana bread.

“M’starving,” he says, pulling his helmet and facemask off. He takes a bite and grins. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You feel your face grow warm, because he’d said that exact same sentence just a few hours before under very different circumstances. You fight a giggle, and when he realizes it, so does he. Max and Lando come skating up just after that, hands outstretched towards the plate you’re holding, so you don’t have a chance to tease him about it, but that’s okay. It’s enough to be there, to talk with him while he leans over the wall, to watch the way he nods in understanding while Max offers him advice. He’s so in his element here. It makes you happy to see. You miss that feeling- of belonging, like this. They’ll tell you you’re a part of a team, but you’d always felt more at home on the field than at the rink, and there’s a part of you that wants it back more than you have in a while. You keep a smile plastered on your face and hope they don’t notice the way it slips when they head back out for practice.

…..

By the time family dinner rolls around on Sunday, Oscar’s been over to your place two more times- once again on Saturday afternoon between practices, and then Sunday morning when he brought over breakfast. It’s been nice- while he’s there, it feels good. But now, sitting around the table, you’re feeling a little uneasy.

Lando and Max tell you everything. You’ve heard far too much about their dates and love lives, you know all of their family drama, and yet here you are, Oscar’s hand on your knee under the table, and you haven’t even told them you’re seeing anyone. You haven’t told them you have a- can you call him your boyfriend? He said he didn’t want it to be a spring break thing, and it hasn’t been. It’s just that you haven’t really had a conversation about what this thing is, exactly, so you’re feeling a little untethered. You wouldn’t even know what to tell Lando and Max, at this point. Oscar squeezes your knee, and you zone back in, blinking at him.

“You alright?” he asks, voice quiet. “You were zoned out for a second.”

You nod and bite your lip. He doesn’t look convinced, but Carlos starts teasing him about something from down the table, and that seems to distract him enough. You push food around on your plate.

You’ve realized that there’s a chance that when Oscar said he didn’t want it to just be a spring break thing, he meant… he just wanted to keep hooking up. Maybe hooking up isn’t the right way to put it- it’s not like he just comes over to have sex and then leaves. He brings food and asks how your day was and cuddles on the couch to watch movies. You want more, though. You want to go out and do things and hold hands and talk about your feelings for each other. What if that’s not what he wants? You got so swept up in the excitement of it all that you forgot to ask, and now you’re feeling adrift about the whole thing.

You volunteer to do the dishes after dinner. The weather is starting to warm up, spring creeping in, and so the rest of the guys head outside to enjoy it, tossing around a football and drinking on the back porch. Lily comes in from work, and Alex hands her the plate of food he saved for her. They head outside. You sigh and watch them, feeling a little jealous. They make it look easy.

Suddenly, Oscar appears at your side, a dishtowel in hand. “I’ll dry, yeah?”

You swallow and nod. You wonder if he’d save you a plate if you were going to be late, or if he’d save you a seat. He was the one who asked if you should tell the guys. He wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t serious, right? You feel like you’re being pulled in a million directions. You have class tomorrow, back into the swing of things, and-

“Hey,” Oscar says, nudging his shoulder against yours. “You okay? You’re quiet.”

You shrug and nod, trying to think of something reassuring to say. “Yeah. Just tired.”

He tilts his head and takes a plate from your hands. “Something keeping you up late?”

You laugh. It sounds hollow, even to you. Oscar sets the plate down in the drying rack, and then he drops the towel, too. You feel wobbly, all of the sudden.

“No,” you say, carefully. “Just stressed about classes starting back up.”

“Yeah, me too,” he says, sighing. “You’re done with class at 4:00 tomorrow, right?”

You nod. He nods back. He’s going to ask to come over. The knot in your chest pulls taught. You want more than this.

“Cool. Can I pick you up at 5:00?” He asks.

Pick you up. That sounds different. That sounds… you set the sponge down on the edge of the sink and turn to look at him. He’s smiling, that look in his eyes that makes your heart melt.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“It’s a surprise,” he responds.

You wrinkle your nose and stare up at him. “Okay.”

“Don’t sound so excited.”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m trying to ask you on a date,” he says, and your heart stutters in your chest. “Like a real, actual date. Where we don’t have to sneak around.”

For a second , it feels just like that moment on the beach. This is nice. You feel silly for ever worrying about what he wanted from this. It’s Oscar. Of course he’d make it clear. You should’ve just asked.

You blink, the knot in your chest suddenly untwisting and untangling. “Oh. Wow. Yeah, that sounds really nice.”

He nods. You nod back, and then burst into a fit of giggles. He laughs, too, and brushes a kiss against your temple, because nobody is looking, too busy with the nice weather outside. You finish up the dishes, a lighter feeling in your chest, Oscar’s elbow bumping against yours as the two of you chat over the soap suds.

He knocks on your apartment door at 5:00 sharp, dressed in a nice button up and a pair of black jeans. You’d asked him what to wear, and it had involved a lot of pestering until he finally gave you some sort of idea. You’re in jeans, too, and a cute top- nothing too fancy, but better than what you’d normally throw on to hang out. You give him a giddy smile as you gather the last of your things.

“You look so pretty,” he says, quietly, in the entryway of your apartment.

“You look so handsome,” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. He reciprocates eagerly, his hands brushing hair behind your ears and then falling to your hips. You can feel the warmth of him seeping through your clothing. You have half the mind to drag him further into your apartment and let this lead wherever it might lead, but he pulls back.

“C’mon,” he says softly. “We’ve got plans.”

He takes your hand in his and knits your fingers together, squeezing gently, and then you’re off. There’s an Uber waiting for the two of you when you step outside- no wonder he was in a bit of a rush to get you downstairs. As you drive to wherever you’re off to, you realize this is the first time you’ll get to be in public with him without worrying about being seen by someone you know. For a while, you get to be together, full stop, no other obligations.

You nearly laugh when the car pulls up outside of the city’s science museum. It’s so unexpected, so out of left field, but it makes complete sense, really. It’s how you became friends in the first place, after all- bonding over science stress. It’s a fun activity, too. And there’s little to no chance any of his teammates will be there. It’s perfect.

You tell him as much as the two of you walk inside, and he smiles proudly, leaning to kiss your temple. He buys the tickets, even when you try and insist on paying for yourself, and he holds the door open for you like a true gentleman. And then the two of you are off to the races.

It’s easy, being with him like this. All your fears about ruining your friendship have vanished. They say that about relationships- that the good ones feel just like you’re with your best friend. It’s still early days, but it feels like a good sign.

He drags you to the dinosaur displays and tells you about how he wanted to be a paleontologist when he was a kid. You wander the halls hand in hand with him, reading about marine science and talking about the trip to the beach, and how much you both miss the ocean. You stop for a snack at the cafe and eat sandwiches and cookies under the giant whale skeleton that hangs from the ceiling in the main atrium. He presses his side against yours, and you let the warmth seep into your skin. He makes you feel so comfortable. The realization makes your chest hurt, makes you want to tug his face down to yours and kiss him, hard. He presses a quick, soft kiss to your lips, like he can read your mind. It’s enough to hold you over.

After you’re both done eating, he takes you up to the second floor, where there’s a little aquarium that has you both in awe. Next door, there’s a giant Newton’s Cradle that sends you both into a fit of laughter. It’s all physics jokes from there on out, talking about objects in motion and apples falling from trees and old scientists who thought they knew so much when they knew so little. You can relate. You feel like you’re learning new things every day- about him, and yourself, too.

He insists on paying extra to go to the planetarium, and refuses to let you pay for that, too. It’s late in the day now, and the two of you catch the last show. It’s half empty, so you pick two seats near the middle and get cozy. He holds your hand while the stars and planets swirl above your head. Tiny, insignificant specks in the grand scheme of it all, but his hand is warm in yours, and that feels bigger than anything else.

The two of you take the bus back to campus afterwards, happy to spend more time with each other rather than opting for a faster Uber. The bus stops right in the main heart of campus, and without even talking about it, you both head for the park. It’s just after sunset, the sky turning dark above your heads. It’s cloudy, but you pretend you can still see the constellations from the museum. You wander past the playground and the baseball fields, and you slow down when you reach the soccer field. Oscar squeezes your hand gently and lets you lead him out onto the grass.

“I think…” you start, voice faltering. “Fuck, I don’t wanna bring down the mood, I swear. But last week, when we were on the field…”

He leans close, his lips against your temple. “It felt good, right? To get back on the grass, to try it again?”

You nod. Your throat feels tight. “I can’t play. It’d wreck my knee. But I want to try something.”

He reaches up and cups your face in his hand. You feel that warmth again, the comfort, the safety. The feeling of knowing you can tell him this at the end of a date and he won’t judge you for it. He’ll understand. He wants to know.

“We’ll find you something, then,” he says quietly. “When I got back on the ice the first time…” he trails off, a smile crossing his face. “It’s a good feeling. We’ll find it for you.”

You lean in to kiss him this time, because you can’t help it, because you’ve wanted to all night. He kisses you back eagerly, hungry and frantic and full of so much care that it’s almost overwhelming. His hands fall to your hips to hold you steady. You go to deepens the kiss, and then-

Then, every sprinkler on the field goes off at exactly the same time, showering you with cold, cold water. You yelp and scramble to run away. Oscar follows, and he catches you when you slip slightly. The two of you are laughing your heads off even before you make it out of the spray. Once you’re safely on the sidewalk, he hunches over, breathing heavily. You do the same.

“That was so fucking cliche,” you say through the laugheter, shaking your head.

He nods, a grin stretched wide over his face. “The most cliche.”

You look down at yourself and your soaking wet clothes. A shiver wracks your body, and Oscar frowns. He pulls you under his arm and holds you close, already starting to walk.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get you into some dry clothes.”

An hour later, you’re cuddled up on your couch with him. He’s wearing some of the clothes he’s left over on other nights, and you’re in your own sweatpants and one of his hoodies. He has you pulled into his chest, right where you feel like you belong. He’s warm under your cheek.

“It’s getting late,” he mumbles through a yawn. There’s a nature documentary playing on the TV. “I should probably head home if I’m gonna get any sleep.”

You hum and trace a pattern on his chest. “Okay.” You swallow and take a deep breath. “Or you could stay here.”

He hums. When you look up at him, he’s smiling. “I could, yeah. That sounds nice.”

It feels so oddly domestic, getting ready for bed with him. You find him a toothbrush in a package shoved to the back of your medicine cabinet & smile at each other through toothpaste foam. You slip out of the hoodie and into one of his shirts to go to sleep. It’s not the first time you’ve been in bed with him, but it’s the first time with this intention- of spending the whole night together, of cuddling up and sharing space like this. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close into his chest. Safe. Cared for. Warm.

You fall asleep before he even turns the bedside lamp off.

…..

You take the opportunity a couple days later, when nobody else is in the house, to tell Lando and Max. You’re sat in the living room, on the couch near the window, while they’re on the bigger couch, video game controllers in hand. When the race they’ve been bickering about ends with Max winning, you take a breath and clear your throat. They both turn to look at you.

You pull your legs up onto the seat of the couch. “I have to tell you guys something.”

“Oh my god, are you pregnant?” Lando asks, eyes wide.

Max jabs him in the shoulder. “Be serious for two seconds, please.”

“A baby is a very serious thing,” Lando says.

“I’m not pregnant,” you interrupt, and you swear Lando looks disappointed. “I…”

You trail off. This shouldn’t be this hard. Lando looks confused, while Max’s gaze is soft and open. You sigh.

“You can tell us anything, Bunny,” Max says, squeezing your elbow lightly. “Promise.”

“I’m seeing someone,” you blurt. “And I- I’m not ready to really talk about it? But I don’t like keeping secrets from you guys, so. Yeah. I’m seeing someone.”

Max smiles. “You don’t owe us an explanation, you know,” he says.

“I know,” you mumble. “But I felt weird not telling you.”

Lando leans over and presses his hand over yours, squeezing softly. “I’m happy for you,” he says.

Max scoffs. “So am I. We both are. Not fair that he said it first.”

You roll your eyes. Lando does too. But there’s a weight on your shoulders that seems to be melting away, and you sink into the couch cushions. You should’ve known it’d be like this- they just want you to be happy, that’s all. You wonder if it’ll change when they find out who your boyfriend is. Across the room, Max stretches his arms above his head and sighs.

“He is a good guy, yes?” He asks. You nod, and he nods back. “That’s good enough for me. But make sure he knows if he fucks up he’s got a whole hockey team on the way to beat his ass.”

You choke on a laugh at that, because he already does know, and he’s a part of that team. Lando laughs, too, though he forces a serious face when Max huffs. The front door swings open before any of you can say anything else, and Charles comes in, followed closely by Oscar, who lights up at the sight of you, soft smile stretching across his lips.

“Hi,” Charles says, pausing to blink around the room. “Something is weird.”

Lando laughs. “Bunny has a boyfriend!”

If they notice the way Oscar’s face goes pink, nobody says anything.

That is, until later, when it’s just you and Oscar in the dining room, along with Charles. He’s stuck around longer than anyone else. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was deliberately trying to-

When you feel Oscar’s hand land on your thigh and hear Charles laugh under his breath at the same time, you look up. He’s grinning, mischief in his eyes, and you know that he knows. You blink at him, wide eyed, heart pounding.

“Don’t tell them,” you plead. Oscar makes a noise of confusion, but Charles starts to giggle. “Seriously, Charlie, please, you know how they’ll be-“

“I won’t tell them until you’re ready,” he reassures you, before directing his most menacing glare at Oscar. “But if you hurt her…”

“How did you even know?” Oscar asks, wide eyed. “We were being so careful.”

Charles laughs again, standing up from the table. He ruffles the hair atop both of your heads when he walks by. “You both wear your hearts on your sleeves. Also, your hand is on her thigh, Pastry.”

Oscar yanks his hand back like he’s been burned. You muffle a laugh into his shoulder as Charles walks away, finally leaving the two of you alone. Oscar groans softly when you squeeze his hand in reassurance.

“We might have to hang out at your place more,” he mumbles against the top of your head. “Because I’d really like to kiss you, but he’s definitely waiting around the corner.”

You laugh, and then you laugh even harder when Charles pops his head back in at the sound, eyebrows raised. Oscar groans again, cheeks red. You head home soon after that, calling out your goodbyes, and Oscar meets you at your apartment a very unsuspicious 30 minutes later. It’ll work for now.

…..

The last home game is also the one that determines whether they make the second round of the playoffs. There’s a lot riding on those 60 minutes. As it creeps closer and closer, you can feel the nervous energy in the house, in the ice rink during practices, across the whole campus. Add on the fact that it’s senior night, and family night? It’s a recipe for stress.

“Do you want a ticket for the family suite?” Max asks one night, stirring pasta on the stovetop.

“Is Jos going to be there?” You ask.

Max rolls his eyes. “He is my family, so yes.”

“Then no,” you state.

Oscar is watching the conversation with wide eyes. Lando leans close to him and loudly whispers, “she doesn’t like his dad-“

“I gathered that, thanks, Lando,” Oscar hisses, brow quirked.

“He will be on his best behavior,” Max says, voice bordering on a whine. “Vic said she wants to see you.”

“I will make plans with Vic then, and your mother, too. We can get breakfast before the game,” you say with a shrug. “Or they can come sit with me. I’m sure Lily will be with Alex’s family, so it would be nice to have some company.”

Max groans. “You are so stubborn.”

“Your father is an asshole,” you reply.

“He called her a puck bunny last year,” Lando butts in.

Max whirls around to face you. “He did what?”

“Oh, so if he’s mean to me it matters?” You snark back at him. Max closes his eyes, but you know he’s rolling them. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard it, it won’t be the last. It’s literally my nickname.”

“It’s different when we say it,” Charles chimes in. “Max’s dad… he said it to be mean.”

“Did everyone else know about this?” Max asks.

You let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Max. It’s fine. Just another reason for me to not like him. I’ll text Vic and see if they want to sit with me, otherwise we’ll make plans to meet up.”

Max seems generally unhappy with the whole situation, but he lets it go. You take the lull in conversation to head into the living room. You’re not surprised when Oscar follows a few minutes later. You’re in your normal spot in the loveseat near the window, and he takes his seat at the opposite end. Sitting here makes you think back to that morning, the snow day, when he’d pulled you in close and held you until you fell back asleep. Really, you should’ve known how he felt then, just from the way he wrapped himself around you. His knee bumps against yours, and you smile at him. He grins back. They could call you a puck bunny all they want, really- you think Oscar would be worth it.

You walk from your apartment over to the guys’ house the morning of the game, where Max is making breakfast for everyone. You bring more banana bread, because it went over well the last time, and Oscar helps you cut it up and distribute it with a soft smile and a stolen kiss to your temple. You haven’t been able to spend nearly as much time with him as you’d like in the past week. You’ve had classwork, and he’s had extra practices.

He still manages to find a second to steal you away. You come out of Lando’s room on the second floor, having been searching for the hoodie you’d lost, and suddenly there’s a hand on your wrist, pulling you along. You slap your other hand over your mouth to muffle your giggles. He drags you into his bedroom and shuts the door, quickly but quietly. You let out a squeak against his lips when he crowds you up against the back of the door.

“We do not have time for this,” you mumble when he brushes a kiss against your jaw. “You have- fuck!- you have like 20 minutes to get ready. They’re gonna come upstairs soon-“

His hand cups your jaw gently, thumb pressing into your face, and you start to melt. “Needed a good luck kiss.”

You can’t really find it in yourself to argue with that. The thing is, a good luck kiss should be a quick peck, or a kiss on the cheek or forehead even. What he gets, what you get, is a full on makeout session against the bedroom door. His hands are everywhere, his tongue is hot against yours, and you’re falling apart at the seams. Every part of you he touches lights up like a wildfire. You wonder if he feels that, too.

He pulls your lip between his teeth and tugs, and you knit your fingers in his hair. Out in the hallway, there’s a thud, and you both break apart, looks of terror on your faces.

“Oscar?” Charles calls out, and you sigh and roll your eyes. “Have you seen Bunny?”

Oscar rolls his eyes, too, and pulls you away from the door just slightly to open it and stick his head out. He nods at you, and you slip out from between him and the door, trying to discreetly fix your hair.

Charles rolls his eyes and hisses, “Max is looking for you. You are lucky he asked me first.”

You reach back with one hand and find Oscar’s, squeezing lightly before you step out of the room. Looks like your time is up. He squeezes back, and you have to fight a strong urge to ignore Charles and Lily and the threat of her asking more people where you are and just head right back into Oscar’s bedroom. A good luck kiss is one thing, but you could do so much better, really.

Charles seems to catch on, and he fixes you with an unamused stare. “He is going to ask Lando next, and they will come looking, you and I both know it.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” you whine, letting go of Oscar’s hand. “It was just a little good luck kiss. Come on, Charlie, don’t you wanna win?”

“Are you going to give us all good luck kisses?” He asks.

You turn back and find Charles staring at you with disapproval on his face. Behind him, Oscar is standing in the doorway, cheeks red, lips puffy and pink. God, you want him so bad. You’ll want him even more after the game, you just know it.

“No,” you say, and watch the grin that takes over Oscar’s whole face. “Just my favorite player.”

When you come down the stairs, you nearly scream in excitement, because you spot Max’s mom and sister in the kitchen, unloading groceries onto the countertops. You rush over, and his mom is already holding her arms out wide to wrap you up in a hug. You do the same with Victoria next.

“Oh, I’ve missed you both,” you mumble, pulling away to smile widely at both of them. “You are my favorite Dutch people.”

Max makes an offended noise. “I am right here. I feed you dinner every Sunday. I took care of you-“

“Yes, but you also annoy me to death,” you say. He rolls his eyes.

“You are my favorite Timberwolf,” Sophie says to you, and you grin and stick your tongue out at Max.

“I am very offended,” Max says dryly. “No pancakes for any of you.”

You pout. Victoria joins in. Max sighs and starts plating them up for both of you, despite what he said just seconds ago. You take them into the dining room, where you all sit down. The rest of the team members are floating in and out, grabbing food and going to get ready, half dressed in their game day suits. Lando appears, clad in a white button up and a pair of gray sweatpants, and greets both Max’s sister and mom. Charles does the same. Oscar appears and hovers in the doorway.

“Oh, Oscar,” you call out, waving him in. He smiles sheepishly. “This is Max’s mom, Sophie, and his sister Victoria.”

Oscar smiles and shakes both of their hands before sitting down at the table next to you. He’s mostly dressed, just missing his jacket. You try not to focus on how good he looks.

“Nice to meet you both,” he says. “You raised a wonderful son.”

“Except for when he’s being annoying,” you grumble.

Victoria snorts. “A wonderful son, but an annoying brother, huh?”

“I can hear you,” Max calls out from his spot where he’s cleaning up the kitchen. “Oscar is my new favorite!”

Sophie watches all of it with an amused smile. “We’ve heard a lot about you, Oscar. And seen you play. You’re quite wonderful yourself.”

Oscar’s cheeks flush. You grin and hide it behind your glass of orange juice. “Oh. Thanks.”

He doesn’t take compliments easliy, you’ve noticed- he gets bashful and shy afterwards. You nudge your knee against his under the table, and a little bit of the tension drains from his shoulders. You love that you can be that for him- a little bit of a steadying presence- because he’s the same for you.

“We are leaving in five minutes!” Charles calls from the living room. “Be on time or you will be doing push ups!”

Max breezes through the dining room, dropping a plate full of various breakfast foods on the table. “Here, this is what’s left. Piastri, where’s your jacket?”

Oscar groans and stands up, already headed for the stairs. “See you later, Bunny! Nice meeting you guys!”

“Good luck!” You call after him.

When they leave, the house falls silent. You catch up with Sophie and Victoria, sitting in the dining area in the pale morning light. Outside, you can hear the parties already starting, the crowds forming. The whole town is buzzing about the game, and you’re not immune to it. The three of you make your way to the rink not long after they leave, because it’ll take a while to make your way through the crowds anyways.

“So,” Victoria says, nudging your shoulder as you pass a house decked out in Timberwolves decor. “Max tells us you’ve got a boyfriend.”

“He’s such a gossip,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “Yeah. I do. It’s kind of… new.”

“It’s someone on the team, isn’t it?” She asks, keeping her voice low. Her mother is distracted by a booth some kids have set up, selling lemonade. “That’s why you haven’t told him who it is?”

You blink back at her, hoping your face stays calm. “No, that’s not why. Just. Taking things slow.”

“Mm. I see,” she says, a teasing lilt to her voice. “Well. Whoever he is, he’s a good guy, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling just at the thought of Oscar. “He’s the best.”

“That’s all that matters, then, no?” She says. You nod. “And I’m sure when you do tell him, Max will be happy for you.”

“Yeah,” you agree. Then, in your head, you add, I hope so.

Max’s mom leaves the two of you near the entrance to go walk out onto the ice with Max and the rest of the seniors for the honor ceremony- named read and flowers handed out. It’s sure to make you cry. Lando’s family is here somewhere, too- you’ll have to find them before they head out, make sure you give them all hugs. But for now, you and Victoria head up to the seats you usually sit in. You’d managed to get the seat next to them for Sophie, too, which is a relief.

They introduce all the seniors, and Victoria hands you a tissue from her purse when you start to sniffle. Max and Lando are out on the ice, their parents next to them, and it makes your chest ache. Then there’s Carlos, with his mom and his dad- who looks at home on the ice as always, and Charles, who stands proudly next to his mother. You muffle your cries into your sleeve. It’s hitting you now- the end of the season is creeping closer, and with it, the end of the year, and graduation, and-

Before you can get too sad, they leave the ice, and the pre game music starts up, and so does the warmup. You spot Oscar out on the ice, carving graceful circles as Lando does the same in a mirror image. You wipe the last of your tears away just before Max’s mom finds you and Victoria in the stands. She must be able to tell you’ve been crying, anyways, because she squeezes your hand and doesn’t let go until the puck drops.

…..

After the game- a close one, but a win, and they’re through to the second round of playoffs- you hug Sophie and Victoria goodbye and head back to the house to prep for the party. The place fills up before the guys even get back from the rink. You weave your way through throngs of people to get a drink, then shove your way back into the living room just in time to see the team come in through the front doors. Max spots you and wraps you up in an enthusiastic hug while Lando ruffles your hair.

“We get one more game,” Max says, loud, close to your ear.

“One game at a time,” you yell back.

Carlos hands you each a shot. You try and pretend you’re not searching the crowd for Oscar. He’s likely making drinks with Alex, or chatting with Logan on the back steps, or something in between. You’ll find him eventually.

An hour in, still missing your boyfriend, you turn around and come face to face with Lando, who has a paper towel pressed to the bridge of his nose. Next to him, Charles looks panicked. Max is trailing along behind them, a hand pressed over his own mouth, amusement clear from the crinkle of his eyes. Lando looks dazed and a little confused. When he gets closer, you notice a spot of what looks like blood on his light blue hoodie.

“What did you do?” You ask as he grins at you.

“He walked into the sliding door,” Charles sighs.

“And then tried to fight the door,” Max adds.

“I was attacked,” Lando whines, pouting. “By an invisible force field.

“Oh my god,” you mumble. You reach out and pull the paper towel away, and wince at the blood streaking his skin. “Okay. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You nearly walk straight into Oscar’s chest when you make it to the upstairs bathroom. He takes in the sight in front of him with a confused smile- you, leading the way, Lando, giggling while his eyes water, Charles’ worry and Max’s entertainment. Oscar blinks and turns to you.

“Lando got into a fight with the sliding door,” you say, waving a hand. “And lost. D’you have bandaids?”

It’s only once all of you are crammed into the bathroom that you realize the mistake you’ve made. Lando’s on the counter, legs swinging. Max stands nearby, phone out and ready to take pictures for posterity’s sake. Oscar’s rummaging around under the sink, trying to find the first aid kit, while you clean the blood off Lando’s face. And it’s fine- the bathroom is pretty big, all things considered, and they’re mostly being well behaved. Until.

“Hey, Bunny,” Lando says, through a stream of giggles. “We should call your boyfriend.”

You blink back at him. Under the sink, you hear Oscar bump his head and let out a soft noise. Nobody else seems to notice.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you murmur.

“Is this going to be a problem for him?” Max asks, suddenly defensive. “Is he so possessive that you cannot help your friend when he is in need? He has such a small di-“

You scoff. “Definitely not.” Behind you, Charles laughs. “It's almost 2am. And that’s not a good time to call anyone.”

Max sighs, leaning his head against the wall, suddenly leaning into the dramatics of it all. “When will we get to meet him?”

“When I’m ready,” you shrug.

Oscar finally pulls himself out from under the sink. His face is flushed, but the guys will probably attribute it to the alcohol. He has a package of bandaids in his hand- thankfully, the normal kind, or otherwise you’re a bit nervous Lando would’ve refused. You swipe away the last bits of blood from his face, and hold your hand out for one of the bandaids. Max watches, arms crossed over his chest.

“If he was not scared of us, he would be here now,” Max says.

Oscar hands Lando a glass of water, and you nearly laugh at the absurdity of it. He is here. They’re so blind. You exchange a look with Oscar in the mirror. He’s smiling, just barely containing it, cheeks pink. God, you want to kiss him.

“Well, Mr. Norris, I think you’ll live,” you declare, patting his shoulder.

He hums as he pushes himself off the counter. “Perfect. Thanks, Bunny. Need a shot. Coming?”

“I’m gonna clean up in here and then I’ll be down,” you say, suddenly realizing what he said as he slips through the door. “You do not need more shots!”

Max groans. “I’ll go after him.”

Charles isn’t far behind, and he shuts the door after him. You throw the last of the towels and wrappers in the trash and turn, finding Oscar, leaning against the counter. He’s not blocking the way out. He’s left you an escape, if you want it, like you’d ever want to get away from him. You grin and take a step towards him.

“Hi,” you murmur, hands hanging at your sides. “I was looking for you.”

He laughs, eyes crinkling at the edges. “I was looking for you. Bet we were just walking in circles following each other.”

“How silly of us,” you say.

“Yeah,” he agrees. He reaches out and hooks his fingers in the belt loops of your jeans. You let out a squeak when he tugs you close. “We don’t have much time.”

You grin back at him, leaning close to whisper in his ear. “Congrats on making the playoffs, babe,” you say, darting a kiss just below his earlobe. “M’so proud of you.”

You pull away just a second later and find his cheeks pink, eyes half lidded. He groans, shaking his head, and you muffle a giggle behind one of your hands. He grabs your hips and squeezes, his hands warm even through all the fabric. You want him, but you’re bound to get caught if you stay here any longer.

“See you downstairs?” You suggest, kissing his cheek before you pull away fully and head for the door. “I’ll grab you a drink while you calm down.”

He nods, chewing on his lower lip. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

You nod, biting your own lip as you reach for the doorknob. “But you like it.”

You look back one last time before you shut the door. He’s grinning right back at you, as if to say yeah, I do. Your chest squeezes fiercely.

He joins you downstairs ten minutes later, cheeks still flushed, eyes still tracing every inch of your face. The rest of your friends are drunk enough not to notice the way he stares, or the way you share your drinks with each other, or the way he’s the first to volunteer to walk you home when most of the people are gone and everyone’s lazing around in the living room between all the empty cans and bottles. You wait until you’re out of sight of the house before you take his hand in yours. He grins and presses a messy, tipsy kiss to your temple. You like moments like these, where you don’t have to worry about anyone seeing. Where you can just be the two of you. You and your boyfriend, who’s a hockey player through to the second round of playoffs-

You stop in your tracks. “We can’t tell them.”

Oscar stops, too, brows furrowed. “Well, we said we should wait, but if you want to tell them now then- baby, they’re your best friends, you deserve to tell them, and whatever they say-“

“No,” you say, though you’re endeared by his reaction, chest warm. “No, we can’t tell them until after the playoffs. Nothing changes during playoffs. No shaving, no haircuts, and definitely no relationship reveals.”

Oscar’s shoulders sag. “You really think I’m gonna stop shaving? It’s all…” he waves his hand. “Superstition.”

“Oscar!” You squeak out, eyes wide. “Of course you’re gonna stop shaving. You have to! It’s- if you shave, then-“

“Then what?” He asks, eyes full of mirth. You gape at him, unable to find the words, or more so, unwilling. “Oh my god, you can’t even say it, can you? You’re that superstitious, that you won’t even say the word los-“

You reach out and slap your hand over his mouth. “Oscar!”

He giggles against your palm. You glare daggers at him. He bites at one of your fingers, gently, and you yank your hand back.

“M’joking, baby. Promise. We’ll wait to tell them, and I won’t shave, or cut my hair, or do anything that might change the results,” he promises.

Your shoulders drop in relief. He looks at you with what you swear are stars in his eyes. He’s so fond it makes you melt. You’re not sure if you were just blind to it, all those months ago, or if it’s just gotten more plain to see since you both confessed your feelings. He wraps his hand in yours again and starts walking you down the street.

“You know,” he starts, squeezing his fingers around yours. “Some players do sex bans during the playoffs. They say it helps their game.”

You chew on your lower lip. You’ll support him, if that’s what he needs, but. But. You want him, now, already, and- You turn to look at him. He’s laughing, muffling it behind his free hand. You roll your eyes and elbow him, and he does the same back.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, his lips against your temple when he says it. “I couldn’t stay away from you if I tried.”

You spot a bit of your lipstick stuck to his skin, beneath his ear, right where you kissed him earlier. You wonder if anyone noticed- probably not, the lights were too low in the house to even see it. You find you’re not worried either way- you like to leave your mark on him. In all the secrecy, it’s a reminder that he really is yours, and you get to be his, too.

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snowyquokka · 22 hours

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Hey I saw that you wanted ideas for some angst, thought I would shoot my shot. What if one of or all of them idk you choose the boys calls reader clingy and reader gets insecure about it. It's okay if you don't feel like it tho. Take care of yourself and drink lot's of water❤️❤️ I'm new to your blog but I really love your work hope to see more of it in the future❤️❤️❤️

CLINGY

cw - non idol!minho x gn!reader, angst (😈), swearing, fluffy ending, hurt comfort kinda

wc- 1.1k

a.n - IT’S DONE !! i am exhausted but hey it’s out 😭😭 anyway i’m sorry for being a bit MIA lately, i’ve been having a bit of a rough time but it’s getting better. i’m not sure if i like this piece or not tho :((( I LOVE YOU MUAH <3

AND I JUST REALIZED THIS IS MY FIRST LINO FIC OMG THIS IS A MOMENT IN HISTORY

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All day, the silence in the house seemed to echo with Minho's absence, each tick of the clock stretching the worry tighter across your mind. The morning had started off on the wrong foot, with Minho oversleeping- a rare occurrence which in turn threw off his whole routine. The rushed breakfast, the hasty goodbye—everything felt off-kilter. It was unlike him to be late, especially for his job at the veterinary clinic, a place he often described as his second home, where he could merge his passion for animals with his skills in care and healing. The hurried departure left a cold space in the wake of his frantic energy.

The argument from the night before added layers to your concern. It was one of those disagreements that seemed trivial in the light of day, yet in the shadow of the night, it had grown into a monumental barrier between you two. It wasn't just the words exchanged or the silence that followed, but the unresolved tension that lingered, making the air heavy with unsaid apologies and unexpressed affections. The fact that Minho had been irritable even before the argument didn't help, it only amplified the discomfort, casting a shadow over his usual bright demeanor.

As the day dragged on, you found yourself glancing at the clock, counting the hours until Minho's return. The thought of him dealing with the stress of work on top of everything else weighed heavily on you as guilt settled in. It wasn't just the worry for his mental state, but also the longing for reconciliation. You knew the importance of mending the rift, of clearing the air with conversations that bridged the gap between hurt and healing. The thought of him walking through the door, the opportunity to start anew, to offer a smile as a peace offering, became a beacon of hope in the slow march of the day. But as you continue to relive the argument you can’t help the pang of sorrow that strikes your heart like lighting, complimenting the storm of emotions whirling about your being.

The dispute sparked when you casually asked him about his day. To you, it was a simple question, but Minho perceived it as intrusive, deeming you "too clingy" and expressing his exhaustion with what he viewed as your constant nagging.Since then you’ve been running yourself into the ground trying to get as much stuff around the house as you can. If Minho comes home to a clean house, you think, then there’ll be one less reason for him to be irritated with you.

The sound of keys jingling faintly outside the door interrupts your thoughts. You had just finished cooking dinner and were plating it just in time as Minho to strolls in.

“Mm,“ he hums in approval as he wraps his long arms around your waist, gently tugging your back to his front. He rests his chin on your shoulder as he speaks, “Smells good, baby. Thank you.” You hum and nod, not sure what to do. He was just complaining about you being clingy but here he is, swaying you side-to-side. Minho clearly sensed your apprehension and pulled back with a sigh. “Why am I getting the silent treatment?”

You aren’t sure how to respond to that. You weren’t purposefully trying to ignore him, you’re just confused and you don’t know how to voice that. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment,” you turn around towards him and lean back against the kitchen island, using your hands to brace yourself.

Minho hums and folds his arms over his chest. He raises a brow, wanting you to continue. You huff and tip your head back for a moment before looking directly at him. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to come off too clingy.” Your tone came off a little harsher than you’d planned and you watch as his expression shifts into something more serious, guilty even.

“Shit, baby I- I didn’t mean it, you know that. I shouldn’t have said it and-” You shake your head, effectively cutting him off.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s just-”

His eyes begin to soften as he inches back into your space. “Hey. Hey,” Minho murmurs as his hands find purchase on your shoulders in an attempt to provide at least some semblance of comfort. He’s always been the type to have some sort of contact when talking to you like this. It makes it feel more personal, more sincere, especially when he ends up apologizing. “Don’t do that, you know I hate it. I’m the one who should be sorry, okay? I’m sorry, I was just stressed and I know that isn’t an excuse.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you, I made you upset.”

Minho shakes his head. “I want you to ask about my day, I want you to show that you care. It makes me feel important. You make me feel important.” You pull your lip in between your teeth, a nervous habit you picked up as a child.

"Are you sure? Because I will-" Minho clicks his tongue and leans his forehead against yours, his brown eyes sparkling.

"I never want you to feel insecure about anything I say, regardless of what it is. I understand I can be hot-headed, and I'm working to fix that, but I want you- I need you- to tell me when I’m doing something that’s upsetting you. I love you and I promise you I didn’t mean any of it.” He presses a soft, chaste kiss on the tip of your nose with a smile. The action makes your stomach erupt with butterflies and you know everything will be okay. You’ll always bounce back and find your way back to each other.

Minho looks down and locks his pinkys around yours before looking back up at you. “You okay now?” You nod and lean against him further with a content sigh.

“I love you too, Min.” Minho begins to open his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“Even if you’re a dick sometimes.” You say with amusement laced in your tone and a grin.

“I guess I’m lucky you put up with me then.”

“Now you’re getting it,”

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tags: @godslino @seungseung-minmin @myseungsunglove @azuna-sz @kaiyaba @solisyeah

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quokkawritesarchive · 1 day

Text

WHAT HAPPENED IN MATH CLASS — JEONGIN.

pairing: jeongin x reader(afab) genre: smut, NSFW warnings: oral (m. receiving), in public (?), underage characters, dirty talk, cum swallowing a/n: tumblr just deleted my post?? anyway. WE GO AGAIN!! (based on this request)

it’s pretty basic to have a crush on a guy in your math class, right? but who could even blame you, when he looked so innocent and so fucking hot at the same time? long ginger hair, a wide smile that lights up the room, sharp cheekbones, and a full pack of abs that you accidentally saw when he was taking off his hoodie. that was yang jeongin – a guy in your math class, a guy who had been on your mind 24/7.

you hated math. it has always been the subject you’ve struggled the most with. but this semester you were just dying in class. not only because it was the last one in the schedule, but also because you couldn't stop thinking about getting between jeongin's legs. the image of his cock could stick with you throughout the day and keep popping up at inopportune moments. he was sitting a few rows in front of you and a little to the right, so you’ve always had a great vision of his crotch area. it was specifically hard to pay attention to the board when he was wearing those tight black jeans. you could swear he wore them on purpose on the days you had class together.

today was the end of your procrastination. instead of the usual yawning around and looking at jeongin's dick through his pants, you were writing a test. all your slacking finally came after you, because you were one of the few people left in the classroom. the teacher allowed everyone who had already finished to leave, and gradually only you and jeongin remained sitting.

“guys, could you excuse me for a moment? i can't sit any longer without coffee and stare at the wall." the teacher chuckled. “and no cheating! i can see everything, even if I'm not here!”

you and jeongin smiled and nodded enthusiastically, already realizing that this test would be passed at least for a b.

as soon as the door closed behind your teacher, jeongin ran headlong to the desk and grabbed his phone.

“ay, ay, ay!” you grinned. “i’ll rat on you.”

“yeah, try it.” jeongin retorted, continuing to search for answers on the web. his eyes widened in fright for a second, but then he smiled sweetly as soon as he realized you were joking. “no one forbids you to take the phone too.”

“unlike you, I want to get grades in an honest way.” you didn't take your sight off him, continuing to observe how cute his eyebrows were frowning in an attempt to find the right information.

jeongin ignored you - he was too involved in the task. normally you would have left him alone and then pretended that nothing had happened. but for some reason, it was today that you wanted to develop this first contact that you finally had. you have never spoken in all the time that you studied together. you often saw him in the hallways, and you knew he was on the basketball team. sometimes you came to the games just to admire his muscles. but you never dared to to start a genuine conversation with him.

getting up from your seat, you crept up to the distracted jeongin from behind and deftly snatched the phone out of his hands, immediately jumping aside.

“hey! what are you doing?!” jeongin was inadvertently taken aback. he tried to retrieve the phone, but you hid your hands behind your back, showing him a pink tongue.

“take it!”

“are you fucking serious?” his face was a mixture of incomprehension and anger. “what if the teacher comes in right now?”

“then he'll see what a bad boy you are." you kept backing away until your back hit the wall.

“and you're miss justice, then?" jeongin came awfully close, cutting off your escape route with one hand. “give it back.”

“no. find it yourself.” you grinned, meanwhile hiding the phone behind the belt of your skirt.

“you're fucking kidding me." the guy swore, making you laugh. even when he was angry, he didn't stop looking cute. “where is it?”

“no idea!” you put your hands up as if to show your innocence. “must have disappeared into thin air!”

in the next second, jeongin’s patience apparently snapped and you found yourself pressed face-first into the wall with your hands held together from behind by his one hand. all you could do was gasp in surprise.

jeongin just sighed and pulled his phone out of your secret place.

you thought he would let you go as soon as he got the phone, but he continued to hold your hands behind your back, pressing you into the wall. you twitched in his grip, still hoping that he would let you go. but jeongin only moved closer to you with his whole body, so that you could feel his muscular chest, and whispered right in your ear.

“should i tie you to my chair so that you don't do anything else?”

and you whined. whined from his proximity and the words he was saying. your dirty mind immediately began to create pictures of you sitting with your hands tied under his table, with your mouth full of his cock, saliva dripping on your chin, trying to please him with your tongue without making a sound.

jeongin froze. you could feel his hot breath on your neck, the grip of your wrists only got tighter. but no one was saying anything for a hot minute.

“i’m- i’m sorry- i should get back to the test-” jeongin spoke first, haltingly.

finally, he let go of your hands and you immediately faced him. his expression made you want to suck him off even more. the blush spread across his cheeks, the tips of his ears turned red, and he looked anywhere but at you, nervously shifting from heel to toe. he was about to move away, but you stopped him by taking his hand.

“wait!”

slowly and carefully, you stepped closer, praying that he wouldn't reject you. that would be so embarrassing. you couldn't believe that this was happening to you. where did you get so much courage from?

the tension was unbearable. his widened eyes kept watching you, but he didn’t move an inch. you could only guess what was going on inside his read right now.

the surroundings were long forgotten. the test, the teacher, the fact that you were standing in the middle of the classroom — it all didn’t matter anymore. you couldn't help but smile at how jeongin's breath hitched when your lips met his. you kissed him the way you dreamed about kissing him — deep, steamy, and full of solid and unambiguous intent. jeongin’s hands remained in the air, and you had to put them on your waist, which he immediately squeezed tightly.

“don't worry, i'm not running away.” you pulled back just to admire his red face again.

jeongin nodded shyly and reached your hand, directing it to his crotch, letting you realize how hard he already was. his confident actions made you gasp. how could he be such a perfect mix of cuteness and depravity?

jeongin kept guiding you up and down and you played along, adding more pressure with your hand. he hissed and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"why haven’t we talked before?" he whispered at the edge of the moan, hot breath making your skin fill with goosebumps.

he immediately went down for your neck — light bites accompanying his wet tongue. your body flinched, the gasp came out of you. the pool that your pussy made inside your panties was becoming unbearable.

to your surprise, jeongin didn’t stop. leaving the question hanging in the air, he started to grind against your hand, whimpering as your fingers tugged at his waistband.

“want you…” was all he could whisper. breathless and desperate, he pushed you down on your knees and you let him.

everything was happening just like in your wildest fantasies, except…

“can i…” you paused, embarrassed at what you were about to lay out loud. “can i do it under your desk? i’ve been wanting this for so long-“

jeongin chuckled and grinned at you from above. he studied your face for a bit, making sure you weren't messing with him again, but still went to his assigned place. plumping on the chair, he spread his legs in the most manly way. you gulped.

he didn’t leave you any space to climb under the desk comfortably, so you had to squeeze yourself to get there. and the burn in your knees was only making your hornier. it was a little tight and uncomfortable at first, but that’s exactly what you wanted this whole time — to get on your knees for jeongin.

“naughty girl.” jeongin smiled at you, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. the view of him from below was magical. "have you been thinking about me often?”

he pushed his finger into your mouth, making you suck on it. you obeyed.

“every time we are in this class…” you admitted, while trying to talk while covering his thumb with your saliva. a pink blush spreading across your cheeks.

he chucked again and cursed under his breath. “you know you look incredibly hot like this?”

“yeah?” you grinned, finally going for his zipper. your actions were quick — that’s how much you wanted him right now.

jeongin could only hold his breath in anticipation, letting you do whatever to him.

as soon as you managed to get his jeans lowered just enough for his hard, leaky length to be exposed, your mouth watered. jeongin was panting heavily, unable to take his sight off you. your pretty face was looking at his cock with round eyes, lips already open and ready to take him full. this view was about to make him cum on the spot.

you trailed kisses on his thigh, getting closer to his cock. “bet you taste sweet.”

jeongin let out a soft, breathy moan. "fucking hell-"

you touched him, hesitantly at first, spreading precum on his tip. but seeing how sensitive he was, you decided to put on an even bigger show and spit on his cock suddenly. saliva dropped on the tip and connected your lips and his flesh. jeongin whined and you smiled cheekily, enjoying his every reaction. he was gorgeous, eyes dark and skin flushed down to his chest.

your grip on his dick tightened a little in a silent warning. “umm… try not to be loud?”

“yeah, sure.” jeongin said with a chuckle. “no probl—ahm, ooh fuck- oh fuck!”

you swiped your thumb in a circular motion around the slit; jeongin, humiliatingly, whimpered. you grinned and did it again.

“faster, please-” he sucked a breath when you sped up, twisting a little at the end of every stroke. “yeah. gosh- you’re perfect…”

emboldened, you lowered your head and gave it a lick, pressing hard on his length with your tongue and focusing more on the head this time. jeongin made a strangled noise and thrusted his hips closer to your mouth, almost pushing himself in.

in response to that, you deepthroated him, trying to examine every expression on his face. and you got rewarded.

his eyebrows furrowed and he moaned loudly. “wow...”

you let go of his cock for a second just to scold him. “you are so loud! cover your mouth!”

“oh! yeah, sorr- HOLY mmff-” jeongin muffled, involuntarily fisting his hand in your hair and pushing you deeper on his cock.

the pressure was a little too sudden. that made you choke, but you continued regardless.

“oh god! sorry, sorry!” jeongin kept apologizing in the most sympathetic tone and purposely brought his hands behind his back.

and for some reason that made you realize you got so turned on by his bold actions and sweet personality that you were throbbing.

“i don’t mind.” you said, rubbing your palm up his belly, wishing there was more of him to touch. “i actually kind of like it. so you can keep-”

“you’re so fucking hot-“ jeongin interrupted, slipping his hand back into your hair, giving you more pressure from the top.

you could feel he was so close. your mouth kept working him up as your hand squeezed his length, sliding up and down. he kept his eyes shut and threw his head back in pleasure, ginger hair smeared over his forehead. you wanted to swallow up every sound and every bead of sweat that glistened on his skin, so you bobbed your head and sucked harder.

jeongin choked out, groaning. “i’m gonna-”

you gripped the bottom of his length tighter and that was enough to send him over the edge. he came fast and loud, spilling hot spurts in your mouth. a few of it dropped around, landing on your skirt and legs.

“oh my god- i got your clothes dirty. i’m sorry!”

and the usual sweet jeongin was back, like nothing ever happened. he moved the desk, so you can get out easily.

you smiled softly at him. “it’s whatever. i can clean it easily.”

there wasn’t much time for talking, because the classroom door opened as you got on your knees. jeongin just had enough time to tuck his dick in his pants.

“i’m gonna pretend i didn’t hear any of that.” teacher said immediately, making both of you red again. “but you’ll have to take the test another day. separately.”

-> reblog to support me, if you enjoyed reading this and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! ♡

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#stray kids #skz smut #skz x reader #skz jeongin #jeongin x reader #stray kids jeongin #jeongin smut

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frudoo · 2 days

Text

A Moth Into Flame — Simon “Ghost” Riley

Y’all… this one is sloppy and kinda lazy??? Idk I had a plan but then it kinda crumbled. If there are plot holes or it just doesn’t make sense… it is what it is LMAO. 🫶

Warnings: SMUT, fem!reader, unprotected PIV, creampie, Simon giving poor reader whiplash but she’s fine with it I guess

MDNI

You can smell his cologne even over the pungent aroma of your whiskey, and you suddenly wish that you had just stayed home. Your body tenses at the sound of those all-too-familiar combat boots hitting the floor. He doesn’t allow himself to be heard unless he wants to make his presence known—he always has been deliberate. You feel the unmistakable coarseness of his hands resting themselves on your shoulders before gently grazing their way down your bare arms. You try to hide the shudder that runs through your body, but he sees. He always sees.

“Save a seat f’you,” he whispers, his voice a soft breath against the shell of your ear.

He trails his hand down the curve of your spine to give your ass a firm squeeze, and as quickly as he had approached, he’s gone. You choke down the rest of your whiskey quickly, ignoring the searing burn it leaves in your esophagus. Your eyes scan the bar for the large, imposing figure you’ve grown to know far too well before finding him in the round booth near the back. He’s with his mates, of course, the ones he never lets you say hello to before he’s pulling you out of the bar and taking you back to his apartment.

Those deep molasses eyes beckon you over without having to say a word. Yeah, you should’ve stayed home, because you know exactly how this night is going to end.

Silently you approach, grimacing at the feeling of the cracked red leather of the booth scratching the backs of your thighs as you slid in beside Simon. He wasn’t having that. A strong tattooed arm wraps itself around your waist and pulls you onto his lap. His mitts unashamedly squeeze your supple tits before ultimately resting on your waist. You jab him in the gut with your elbow, but he only gives you an amused grunt in response.

“Finally lettin’ us meet yer lass, LT?” The mohawked man raises an eyebrow, sucking his teeth as he looks you over. “She’s bonnie.”

Simon shrugs, tilting his head to press a kiss to the side of your face through his mask. Despite the fact that the guy had been looking at you like a piece of meat, there was something charming about him, blue eyes holding a boyish innocence, but the smirk he wears gives away his true nature. There’s something captivating about all of the roguish men, but none quite as… alluring as the enigma whose lap you sit on.

The other two men say nothing about your presence and instead shift the conversation back to something you can’t understand. Not that you’d be able to focus, anyway, with the way Simon’s grasping your hips to move you over slightly when he wants to take a drink or add something to the discussion. His hands are so warm that you can feel it through the thin fabric of your dress, and it excites you more than you’d like to admit. You know what those hands can do.

He’s distracted, taken a break from tormenting you with those gentle touches, but it doesn’t help the white-hot desire that’s been building up in your belly, fogging up your head. To go from too much attention to too little won’t do at all. You can beat him at his own game.

You pretend to listen to whatever the bearded man with the weird hat is saying, not looking to draw any attention to yourself—at least, not from anyone other than Simon. You reach forward to grab a pretzel from the bowl on the table, pushing your ass back to deliberately rub against his crotch. He grunts and gives your hip a squeeze, a warning. Bingo. You feign ignorance and lean forward again, this time rolling your hips to add some more friction.

Simon tugs on the ends of your hair to tip your head back, a threatening undertone in his murmur.

“Playin’ a dangerous game there, bird.”

You snicker, giving another grind of your ass against his growing erection—pouring gasoline onto the fire. His fingertips dig into the flesh of your hips almost painfully, and his bark is a little sharper now, more akin to a bite.

“Fuckin’ quit it.”

A moth into flame.

“Make me.”

That’s all it takes before you’re forced out of the booth, his large hand splayed across your lower back as he ushers you through the crowd, toward the bathroom. You turn to look at his mates over your shoulder, and the one in the ball cap gives you a cheeky wink right before the door slams shut and the only thing in your view is Simon with his balaclava pulled up just above his nose. Without warning, he slams your back against the wall and kisses you with a fervor you’ve only felt in more private areas with him. You moan against his lips, moving to wrap your arms around his neck, but he’s quicker, pinning your wrists above your head to keep you in place.

“Gonna teach y’some bloody manners,” he grumbles against your skin, nipping his way down your jawline and neck. “I like my pets domesticated.��

You gasp as he delivers a particularly harsh bite right to the middle of your throat, spit-slick tongue scalding against the wound. It’ll leave a nasty bruise but you couldn’t care less, clenching your thighs together in an attempt to get some much-needed friction. Simon tuts, briefly nibbling on your lobe before muttering into your ear.

“Spread ‘em.”

A simple command, but you scramble to obey, a soft whine escaping your parted lips. He’s quick to move his free hand down your stomach and between your thighs, cupping your mound roughly. You buck your hips, clothed clit rubbing right up against the heel of his palm. He groans, releasing your wrists to cusp your jaw instead.

“Knickers are fuckin’ soaked, lovie. All f’me?” His dark eyes bore into your own, fingernails leaving creases in the flesh of your cheek.

“All for you,” you reply breathlessly, grabbing onto his biceps to brace yourself for what comes next.

Simon pushes your panties aside and swipes the tip of his middle finger through your slit to collect the sticky dew of your arousal. He circles your clit a few times before teasing your entrance. He swirls his fingertip before pushing inside, all the way to the knuckle. He huffs amusedly at the mewl you let out.

“Mm, she’s droolin’ f’me, baby,” he whispers, his other hand cupping the back of your head and pulling you in for another kiss.

Without warning, he slips another finger inside, curling them to hit that sweet spot perfectly. You let out a keen moan and tilt your head back, too absorbed in pleasure to acknowledge the dull pain that comes when you hit the wall. Simon smiles, licking the tip of your nose teasingly.

“Tha’s the spot,” Simon coos, mouth falling open in the same fashion as yours.

His eyes never leave your face, transfixed on every twitch of your eyebrows and quiver of your lips. He’d argue that he’s more drunk on you than the whiskey he’d been enjoying just a few minutes ago. He pumps his fingers quicker, harder, attacking your neck with more soft kisses and nips. He chuckles when he feels your gummy walls clamping onto his fingers, your nails digging into the flesh of his biceps and leaving half-moons as a result. Simon doesn’t mind.

“Y’close, baby?” He hums, pulling away from your neck to press his forehead against yours.

“Y-yeah,” you pant, opening your eyes to stare into his, deep, dark with desire and burning with passion.

“Cum f’me,” he whispers, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and massaging your g-spot in mind-numbing thrusts of those thick fingers. “There y’go, lovie, squeeze m’fingers jus’ like tha’.”

Simon moans alongside you as you reach your peak, lips curling into a pleased smirk. The second he feels your walls ease up he pulls his fingers out, causing a whine to slip out of your throat. He clicks his tongue, fingertips wrapping around your throat and squeezing gently.

“On your knees.”

You do as he says, glazed eyes just barely making out the sight of his veiny hands unbuckling his belt. Simon pulls his cock free of its confines, hissing at the sensation of cold air hitting the sensitive skin. His tip is an angry fuschia, dripping rich pearls of precum, and fuck—he must have been just as desperate as you. You’re still in a daze from the blinding ecstasy he put you through, staring at his pretty dick with your hands resting in your lap. He cocks an eyebrow beneath his mask, snapping his fingers at you.

“Well? Y’wanted this fuckin’ cock so bad, so suck it,” he spits, pulling your hair into a messy ponytail and guiding your head towards his throbbing erection.

Pulled out of your hazy state, you stick out your tongue the way you know he loves, grabbing the base of his dick and pulling down the thin layer of foreskin to reveal the thick crown beneath. You smack the tip against the middle of your tongue, moaning in unison with its owner as you stare up at him through fluttering lashes. Simon looks so fucking good like this—one hand tangled in your hair, the other bracing himself on the cool wall behind you. Unable to resist any longer, you wrap your lips around the tip and suckle softly, swiping your tongue through the slit to collect all of that delicious, salty precum.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Simon grunts, chin falling to rest right above his clavicle, drooping eyes focusing on your own. “Always take me so well.”

You smile the best you can with your mouth full, resting your hands on his muscular thighs before taking him deeper. You’re always surprised by his girth no matter how many times you hook up—such a fat cock that your lips have to stretch almost painfully to accommodate. He grunts as you flatten your tongue on the bottom of his dick, massaging the bulging vein and hollowing your cheeks for better suction. One of your hands moves up to cup his balls in your palm, gently squeezing. He shudders and you feel his cock twitch in your mouth; he’s already so close.

“Enough,” Simon pants, tightening his grip on your hair and carefully pulling your mouth off of his cock with a wet pop. “Fuck. What the ‘ell are you doin’ t’me, woman?”

You smile as he cups your cheeks in his hands, pulling you in for a feverish kiss. His tongue prods your mouth, running across your teeth and tongue and everywhere he can reach. Then, he stops, giving your ass a sharp smack.

“Turn around and bend over tha’ sink,” he instructs breathlessly, before deciding that would take too long, instead grabbing your hips and manhandling you into position.

You barely get any warning before he’s shoving your dress up to your waist and tearing off your panties. You gasp and turn to glare at him over your shoulder, but he’s already pocketing the ruined fabric.

“M’sorry, lovie. I’ll buy a new pair f’you… ‘ell, I’ll buy anythin’ y’want. Jus’ let me… ah fuck!” Simon throws his head back as he slides to the hilt inside of you in one blissful, searing stroke.

“Fuck!” You whimper, the painful stretch of your cunt struggling to suck him in causing you to hold onto the cold porcelain for dear life.

Simon wastes no time before starting to pump in and out slowly, giving you just a pinch of time to adjust. Then he takes hold of your hips and ruts into you with reckless abandon, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood trying to stifle his moans. You’re not so careful about your volume, squealing and babbling with every thrust he deals. He grunts, moving one hand to cover your mouth, pulling you back into his chest.

“Tha’ whore mouth o’yours is gonna get us in trouble,” he grumbles through gritted teeth though makes no effort to let up on his devastating thrusts.

“Drive me bloody fuckin’ insane, y’know tha’? Perfect, pretty baby, no fuckin’ good f’me.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as the fat tip of his cock kisses your sweet spot with perfect precision. Every stroke, every whisper, every smack of his hips against your ass has you seeing stars. You can feel the mascara and sweat dripping down your face, and you get the feeling that your hair looks just as fucked. You turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror, wiping away the fog to watch as Simon fucks you absolutely stupid. You meet his gaze in the reflection and he snickers, pulling the straps of your dress down so that your tits spill out from the fabric.

“Yeah, y’know you’re fuckin’ sexy,” he mutters, alternating between roughly palming at your breasts and tweaking your pert nipples. “Such a hot mess f’me.”

You’re dangerously close, teetering on the edge of that earth-shattering euphoria, and you know that Simon knows—that’s why you let out a defeated sob when he pulls out of you completely, leaving your pussy to clench around the newfound emptiness.

“W-why did you-?”

“Haven’t learned your lesson yet, bird,” he sniffs, grabbing a handful of your disheveled hair and tugging your head backwards so that his lips meet your ear. “Apologize for teasin’ me in front o’my mates like tha’.”

“Simon, please,” you beg, hot tears streaming down your rosy cheeks.

Simon tuts, giving your ass a couple of sharp smacks. You yelp, body jolting forward with each painful contact.

“Apologize.”

“I’m sorry!” You whine, fingertips prying at the sink as he glides the head of his cock through your glistening folds.

“For wha’?” He kisses his way down your neck, giving both nipples a rough pinch.

“For teasing you in- in front of your friends,” you mumble, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as his tip catches on the hood of your puffy clit.

“There’s m’good girl,” he purrs, running his hands down to your waist and giving it a soft squeeze. “Next time y’act up like tha’, you’re not gettin’ off this easy.”

“Please make me cum,” your bottom lip quivers as your eyes meet in the mirror once again, desperate for him to tame the fire he’s ignited in your belly and heart.

“Turn back around,” Simon whispers, stepping back to give you room to obey. “Wanna see tha’ pretty face when y’do.”

You turn to face him and wrap your arms around his neck, gasping softly as he cups your bottom in his hands, hoisting you up. He presses your back to the wall with your legs around his waist and kisses you again, but it’s much more tender than the previous ones. He gasps into your mouth as he pushes inside of you again, hands still firmly on your ass to keep you secure as he builds up a pace once more.

“Fuckin’ love you, y’know tha’?” He murmurs against your lips between kisses, his groans turning into softer moans as he gets closer to his climax. “Never jus’ a bloody hookup t’me.”

“S-Simon-” you furrow your eyebrows, pulling back to look at him, shocked by his confession.

“M’sick of actin’—shit—like this is jus’ a good fuck. We both know it’s no’,” he heaves, lewd wet sounds bouncing off the walls as he quickens his pace. “No more fuckin’ lyin’. You’re mine.”

The back of your head falls against the hard wall as you feel the coil in your tummy about to snap, walls contracting around his cock so tightly, like they’re trying to force him out.

“There y’go, pretty baby. Cum f’me, yeah? Fuck, please cum f’me. Cum on my cock, lovie, y’can do it.”

That’s all it takes before you’re crying out his name, your entire body feeling weightless and whole all at the same time. You think that Simon’s moans might be louder than your own, whimpering into your ear and you swear that you heard a sob right before he came. He holds himself deep inside of you as ropes of hot, thick semen fill your womb, refusing to move until the air finally settles between the two of you. He presses his forehead against yours once again, honeyed brown eyes staring into your glossy ones.

“I meant tha’. Every bloody word,” he admits, nuzzling his nose against your sweaty cheek. “You’re m’girl.”

Simon carefully pulls out of you with a gross squelch, helping you back onto your feet. He repositions your straps so that your breasts are in place and covered once again, as you tuck his softening cock back into his pants and buckle his belt. He cups your face in his hands and grins softly, wiping away the black-stained tears on your face with his thumbs.

“Come home with me tonight?” You ask gently, leaning into his touch.

“Always.”

#this wasn’t gonna be romantic but i can’t help myself apparently #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #ghost x female reader #ghost smut #ghost cod #ghost cod smut #simon riley smut #cod smut #call of duty smut

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hotpinkstars · 1 day

Note

Since we all love crumbs of angst every now and then:

Boothill being a dad is kinda bittersweet on it's own given his past.

But what if-

He lost his s/o due to labor complications. Another person on the list of people he lost out of nowhere.

LOSS - boothill x reader

- you pass away giving birth to your child.

- hi guys im sick 🤒 and i feel like i'm going to pass out but i decided to write 👍 this ask broke me but i just had to write it and i have no regrets... guys i was gonna write angst anyway but this one. this.

- major character death, hurt no comfort, written by someone who has never had a baby or been pregnant, pre-cyborg boothill wc 863

You have reached your due date, leaving both you and Boothill on your toes.

You’ve have a specifically rough pregnancy in itself, being horribly sick in the middle of it, really bad pain for the majority of it, and you were absolutely ready to get this baby out of you.

It pained Boothill to see you in so much agony, so he wishes the same, too. There's only so much he can do when it comes to how painful and hard your pregnancy was.

So, when he was awoken to moaning and the sight of you leaning up against the headboard at around 2 in the morning, he was excited, but also really nervous. If your pregnancy was harsh, how bad would your labor be?

When you saw him wake up, you immediately gripped his arm, holding onto it for dear life before he could even register the situation unfolding before him. Tears were streaming down your face, little gasps and moans coming from your chapped lips every once in a while.

“What’s going on?” He asked, groggy and barely capable of opening his eyes. You fall into his embrace, crying lightly into his shoulder.

“It hurts,” you manage to choke out, trying to get as much air in and out as you can.

“Is it baby time?” He sat up, a glimmer in his now wide eyes. You nod, clutching his shoulders and leaning back into the pillow. At the same time he was excited, he was also indescribably nervous. He wasted no time in readying himself to take you to the hospital.

He ran around your shared ranch, preparing everything possible after helping you walk to the couch so you were in a less stuffy space. He draped a light blanket over your form, occasionally sitting with you while you’re fighting a contraction.

He got you to the hospital alright, which was a success in his eyes. The only thing he couldn’t do was take your pain away, and it pulled at his heart in a horrible way. The amount of “‘M sorry, sugar,” he whispered on the way to the hospital would be more than countable on both hands.

So now, with you in the nurses hands, all he had to do was help you through contractions, and wait until his baby was born.

He was confident in your abilities to give birth to a healthy baby, and he was also confident in your capabilities of rebounding from the birth. That was, until your pulse dropped.

Thankfully, a nurse was checking how dilated you were, and noticed your breathing pattern was very… labored. He understood something was wrong when she stopped midway through checking you to come up to give you an oxygen mask, and telling you to breathe before frantically finding other nurses. While a bunch of professionals crowd around you, someone pulls him aside.

“You’re the husband, yes?” The nurse asked, sitting down to type away on a keyboard. He nodded, fidgeting with his fingers while he rested his forearms on top of the counter.

“Is she gonna be alright?” He asked, some uncertainty laced within his accent, making it thicker.

The nurse hesitated and stumbled over her words. “I’m not entirely sure,” she managed to get out, crushing the cowboys' already strained heart. “You saw her state, and we're certainly going to have to perform a c-section. She’s much too weak for a vaginal birth.”

He nodded slowly. “When do I get to see her again?”

“You can now if you want to. There's just going to be a lot of nurses in there, that's all.”

So in the room he goes. He doesn’t want to miss out on anything, even if you’re extremely unstable and barely breathing. He walks in and kneels right by the side of your head, watching as your eyes crack open in the slightest, smiling through your oxygen mask.

“You’ll be alright, sugar,” he whispered before kissing your forehead. “It’ll all be alright.”

Famous last words.

You, for a matter of fact, were not alright. You could barely even keep your eyes open as they hand Boothill your baby. They were bloodshot, and very exhausted. As nurses were trying to stitch you up, your vision turned to black.

They escorted Boothill and your child out of the room and into a separate room as they try to help you once more. But nothing was working. Your heart had stopped beating, and the oxygen mask was no longer necessary.

When the news was broken to Boothill, he instantly broke down. A nurse took the baby into a separate part of the unit so she could be properly treated, and he rushed back over to your room with tears flooding his eyes to see if he could catch one final glimpse of you.

You were deathly pale, laying stiff on the bed, no life left in your body. He once again started to break down before being told to head home for the night, to get as much rest as he could and to come back in the morning.

Well, he was a father, but his daughter no longer had the mother she deserved.

#honkai star rail #hsr #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill x reader #tw pregnancy #angst #death

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 days

Text

girls just wanna have fun 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, blackmail, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your struggle to push back against your controlling father result in a misguided crush. (Silverfox AU)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself

Shelby shows up with her switch case slung over her shoulder. You don’t really touch your system anymore, only when she’s around. The last time you tried to boot up, the update took too long and you lost interest.

“So, MarioKart?” She asks.

“I told you, we’re swimming. My dad just left for his stupid work thing.”

“Oh, I didn’t bring a suit,” she frowns.

“Why? I said--”

“It’s late. The water’s cold,” she whines.

“Really, Shel,” you roll your eyes, “why don’t you just play your switch by the pool then and I’ll go swimming.”

“Wow, you don’t have to be rude. You know I’m not comfortable in swim suits,” she sneers, “what’s gotten into you, anyway?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’ve grown up,” you sigh, “I’m over playing video games in the dark. I want to live.”

“Fine, we can sit by the pool. Can I have a blanket?” She huffs.

“Whatever, grab one,” you wave vaguely. She knows where everything is.

You head off down the hall to the French doors and step out in the dimming air. The solar lanterns glow dully as the sky dulls slowly and you strut over to the pool in your new suit. The red might be a bit much but you’ve been working hard.

You sit with your legs in the pool as you search through your phone for a playlist. You connect to the bluetooth speaker and play some buzzy pop. Shelby comes out with a throw around her shoulders and her switch clutched to her middle. You don’t get why she’s so shy. She’s pretty enough and she has a nice shape to her hips. If she smiled and maybe did something with her hair, or wore nicer clothes she might not feel so crappy.

You hum along with the music as her nintendo tinks and deeps under the drone. You push yourself off the edge and dip under the water. It’s refreshing. You don’t see why she doesn’t just hope in in her undies. It’s just the two of you.

As you break the surface, you hear Shelby’s voice but her words are garbled. A low timbre comes in return and you whip around to face the fence. Sam’s once more popping his head over, leering as you wipe the water from your eyes.

“There you are,” he smirks, “was just checking in. Me and Bucky got some extra dogs and we’re about to do some smores. Wanna join?”

You nostrils flair and your lashes twitch as you consider the offer. Sure, you’d love to go over and show off your new fit for Bucky but if it means spending time with Sam, it’s not really an opportunity. You shrug as Shelby stares at her lap. Oh yeah, she’s shy. And the perfect wing woman. You can distract the pest with her.

“Do the smores come with drinks?” You challenge.

“Are you two a package deal?” He sticks his tongue, “don’t need a sausage fest.”

Shelby mumbles your name and gives a desperate look. You wade through the pool to the ladder and climb out, the water slaking down your body. You grab the towel from the chair next to your friend and wrap it around yourself, knotting it low between your cleavage.

“Sure, you like smores, don’t you Shel?”

“Um, yes, but...”

“Come on,” you turn and lower your voice, keeping your face hidden from Sam, “loosen up, alright? It’ll be fun.”

“Please,” she begs.

You hush her and snatch the switch, “come on or I’ll throw this in the pool.”

“You wouldn’t!” She exclaims as she stands.

You send her a darting look then glance over at Sam with a sickly smile, “will you be a doll and go get our drinks ready?”

He chuckles and winks before he descends back behind the fence. You grab the edge of the throw and rip it away from Shelby. You look her up and down and shrug.

“Just do me a favour and distract him, alright?” You snip, “tell him one of your jokes.”

“He’s a stranger,” she ekes out.

“His name’s Sam, there, not a stranger,” you drag her by her wrist through the yard and along the side of the house.

“But... he’s old. Why would you want to hang out with him?”

“It’s not him I’m interested in,” you growl, “okay? Look, it’s just a bit of fun. You don’t have to do anything. I’m not planning on it either. I just want a few drink and to flirt a bit. You said it yourself Shel,” you stop her just outside Bucky’s gate, “they’re old but they’re rich, got it?”

She makes a face, “your dad’s rich.”

“So’s yours, but they’re both assholes. When’s the last time you saw yours, huh?”

She looks away. Her dad’s always on some important business trip and her mother never mentions the perfume on his clothes. You hate to bring it up but you may as well get something out of some old pricks at some point in your life.

“Just smores, alright,” you promise her and keep hold of her arm as you knock on the gate.

“Hey, girls, give me a hand,” Sam calls over, “hands are full.”

You open the back gate from the other side and find him waiting with two bright bottles in hand. The coolers aren’t what you expected. Hadn’t he teased Bucky for drinking Corona?

“Smirnoff Blue Raspberry, huh?” You take one and read the label, “didn’t take you for the type.”

“Oh, I got a hell of a sweet tooth,” he purrs, “speaking of, who’s this little slice?”

Shelby gurgles and you try to ignore her awkwardness.

“This is Shelby, we’re like best friends. Since grade school.”

“Mmm, best friends,” he nods as he looks her up and down, “well, come on in. The old coot is searching for marshmallows. I swear if I wasn’t around, he’d lose himself too.”

“Sure,” you utter dryly and take the other bottle, shoving it towards Shelby. She takes it reluctantly and eyes it with suspicion.

“It’s fine, it’s like five percent,” you squint at the corner, “I don’t think that’s very much.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you drank,” she whispers.

“Not a lot but...” you stop and sniff the neck, “smells alright.” You taste the bright blue elixir and hum, “like a popsicle.”

She takes a reluctant sip and her eyes roung, “mm, yummy.”

“See, it's fine,” you elbow her as you follow Sam into the yard. You've never been this far.

You take in the large oval pool and the grotto hot tub to the far edge of the lawn. Just like the front, it's well-kempt. The patio set all matches perfectly to the tile around the pool.

“So, you guys hungry? Got some spicy hotdogs?”

You look at Shelby, she gulps down another mouthful to save herself from replying. God, you gotta do everything.

“We'd rather the smores. I don't eat whatever hotdogs are,” you scoff.

“Huh, makes sense,” he gives you a lurid look, “how about you, Shelbz? Don't let her do all the talking? You want a nice thick sausage?”

“Don't be gross,” you nudge him out of the way and flick your fingers for Shelby to follow.

She tails you across the grass and you spread out across one of the loungers. You just want Bucky to come out and see you. You just need a bit of a thrill to tide you over, to get you through your next vibe-assisted session.

“Guess I'll go check on that dope,” Sam mutters, “always keeping me waiting.”

“Fine, fine,” you dismiss him.

He retreats and you pose yourself on the lounger, adjusting the towel so when you move the right way it'll come loose. It's not much of a plan but you'll play it up.

Shelby slurps loudly and you look up at her, “jeez, Shel, slow down.”

Her bottle is almost empty as she wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

“I'm nervous,” she quakes. “That guy… he's so… is he flirting with you?”

“He's flirting with you, dummy,” you shoot back, “what's up? You want his sausage?”

You cackle and she nearly chokes, “you know I've never–”

“Relax, I haven't either,” you trill, “it's a game, Shel. They wanna feel like they still got game and well, it doesn't hurt to get a bit of attention, does it?”

“I… guess not.”

“Don't even worry about it,” you snort, “they're probably getting close to bedtime. Just smile, will ya?”

She forces a smile and looks down at her bottle. Maybe she should have another drink. She's such a wet blanket.

#sam wilson #bucky barnes #dark sam wilson #dark!sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #series #drabble #au #girls just wanna have fun #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #falcon and the winter soldier

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fisheshavegill · 2 days

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Gossamer Glades | SJY jakexfem!reader. !! warnings: slight corny shit going on :) just fluff i guess... wc: 922 [ authors note: just wrapped up with the final part of the Sunghoon fanfic i made, now I'm back to crafting these short pieces. ]

It was a delightful summer morning, ah yes, after stressful weeks of studying, staying up all night, and relentless pursuit of grades you’ve invested your soul into.

The path always comes with “endless” opportunities, like what the lady librarian told you last week. But she also warned that amidst those “opportunities”, there will be dead ends lurking.

That indented your whole brain for days now, hasn’t it? talk about your college applications? Specifically with Harvard, Stanford, Yale—the epitome of Ivy League aspirations— and also other colleges occupying your thoughts. What if every prestigious. No. What if every institution you’ve set your sights on ever since you were a child ends up diminishing you?

“Relax, we haven’t even seen the results yet” Jake reassures, his fingers gently weaving through your hair. “You’re freaking out over nothing” he adds.

more under the cut

You roll your eyes unimpressed with how he tried to soothe your worries with his comforting touch. “Easy for you to say because you were born a natural” you quip, a hint of playful sarcasm lacing your words.

“Hey, I myself have been spanked several times for not acing several yet simple Kumon drills back then” Jake admits as you rose from his lap.

Today, it was just the both of you, having a picnic by the lake, located between the town and its outskirts. It was some random “getaway” you both planned in the middle of the night during a Facetime call.

"Besides spending countless nights overthinking continuous rejection from colleges, even the ones with gates that probably have gold trimmings," you quip with an exaggerated sigh, “what other misfortunes are waiting me in this life” you say shooting a glance at Jake, whose brain is likely hosting a whole symphony, planning the best response to your endless rants.

He casts you a glance before swiftly grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. “Relax, Babe” his voice soothes “Life's journey has a way of unfolding just as it should.” He gives a soft peck on your lips before rummaging through the picnic basket.

Although his sweet gesture preludes, this even made you overthink more with the growing silence in the atmosphere.

“Well..”

“Yesterday I received a letter from Duke University” you trailed off, but it made him prompt a glance at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity waiting for you to continue.

“I got denied” you sighed, the weight of disappointment hanging heavy in the air. Jake’s face looked a bit sad if not a touch more pronounced.

“Did you hear back from them too?” you raise your eyebrows at his silent demeanor.

“I did” he said as he grabs a lunchbox out of the basket.

“Well, what did yours say?” your press, noticing the hesitation in his gaze as it lingers on you.

“You got in, didn’t you?” your murmur as your face dropped.

“No… I also got denied” he says as he open the lid of a lunchbox. You nod knowing full well he’s not being truthful.

“He got accepted, but he’s sparing my feelings by keeping it to himself?” you thought

You sighed, the thought still not fading away as you rest your head on your knees.

“Hey it’s going to be alright okay?” he comforts you, patting your back.

He gently tucks strands of your hair behind your ear to better see your face. "And hey, who needs Duke University anyway?" he adds with a playful grin. "There are plenty of other colleges out there just waiting for us to conquer them together."

“I’m already paranoid” you trailed off, eye rolling while looking at him.

Jake’s eyebrows both raised as if you were quipping a mix of fear and humor.

“Hm?” he mutters as if he did something wrong.

Your voice tinged with vulnerability as you meet his gaze with a pout "that you might trade me in for another Asian girl that impeccably dresses good, who probably solves quantum physics problems for fun and has a family straight out of a”

He cuts you out as he slips a strawberry in your mouth, enough to shut you up.

“Well” he teases as he looks at you with a mischievous smile observing your stunned reaction "does that silence taste as good as it looks?"

“Its sweet, isn’t it?” he slightly tilts his head as you munch on the fruit. He leans in, eyes twinkling “It’s as sweet as my love for you” he whispers, his breath causing goosebumps

“You’re corny” you say eye rolling at him which earned you his laugh as you glared at him.

“Well, because you think that I am going to chase after another Asian girl who’s much “better than you?” he pinches your cheeks “Why would I? when you’re already the best” he says as a smile appeared at the corner of his lips. “I hope you know just how much I adore you," Jake adds earnestly.

He gently lifts your chin with a finger, you tilt your face to meet his gaze as he leans closer to you feeling the press of his soft lips against yours in a delicate kiss.

Just right after that he chuckles pinching your cheek once more. “Why don’t we eat the delicious food that I nearly burnt my hand just for you, hm?” he suggests with a playful grin.

“And just to sweeten the deal, it's made with all your favorite ingredients," he adds, winking as if he's just revealed a top-secret recipe

#enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha #enha fluff #jake enhypen #jake enha #jaeyun #sim jaeyun #sim jake

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unicornofthesun13 · 14 hours

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JWCT Countdown: Prompt One: Favourite Character

Brooklynn is definitely my favourite character and based on the recent speculation over her 'death', I thought I'd write my idea of a reunion scene, also serving as a mini character study.

-------

“What? You’ve never seen a ghost before?” Brooklynn asks, stepping out of the shadows. She tries to sound confident and draw attention away from her arm, or, half-arm.

Everyone gasps anyway.

After months, she’s finally seeing them again and she can’t believe her eyes. They're not the same. Darius' eyes are heavier, surely carrying the weight of the world, once again. She's changed too. Like on Nublar, her purple and blue hair has grown out, revealing the brown roots.

Ben is the first to move, grabbing her shoulders. “You can’t do that to us!” He whisper-yells.

She cringes. The bad guys are still around here somewhere. Her heart jolts just thinking about it.

“You hypocrite. I literally stole the line from you,” Brooklynn says.

“What-what happened?” Darius asks. His gaze flickers, not so subtly, to her arm and the smear of blood on her cheeks.

She takes a deep breath. She’s run through what she wanted to tell them when they finally found her hundreds of times, but it will have to wait.

“Right now, we need to focus on getting these dinosaurs out of the hands of these people," she says. Then she meets Darius' stare. "I'll tell you later."

She can't promise.

The mission is almost complete and then everything she’s sacrificed, everything they’ve all been through, will have been worth it. They can’t just stand around chatting, revealing their location. Not now.

“Can we at least make sure you’re not going to, I dunno, drop dead?” Kenji asks. He's reverted to his early Nublar airhead voice, twinged with anger and frustration. She knows he's just masking his terror.

Not all of this was her fault but guilt seizes her anyway.

“I’m fine,” she says, not quite lying, but not quite telling the truth, either. So many things hurt but she can’t focus on any of them. If she pauses, she doesn’t think she’ll be able to get up again.

So she doesn’t stop. There’s always more to uncover. Always more to unbox. Consequences be dammed.

#jwctcountdown #jurassic world chaos theory spoilers #jurassic world chaos theory #brooklynn jwcc #jwcc #jwct #camp cretaceous #day 1: favorite character

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when-pigsfly · 3 days

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// pictures at an exhibition

photographer!gaz x reader. there was this rlly funny moment during the met where this dude was like “don’t look at him, look at me” and i was like that’s so gaz?? it has to be. it must. super short and i wrote this on my phone plz don’t look at me

blah blah blah you and gaz are photographers on opposite sides of the red carpet. it’s been six hours. you’re dead on your feet, and sweating through your slacks, and you’ve got thirty minutes to catch the shot that might pay your rent this month since your ex decided to up and leave.

you’re technically not supposed to be here; an acquaintance of yours couldn’t make it, but they’ve seen the way you’ve been skimping on groceries—so they play up your skills a bit to get you in the door.

but this sack of shit has been fucking with you since you got here.

flashing perfect teeth the moment an adorned wrist peeks through the entryway. voice gliding over the cacophony of barks and hollers. winking so rarely that these people think they’ve struck gold each time they pose for him just enough, just right.

can you look at me? right over your shoulder, love. that’s it.

gorgeous.

it makes you squirm. and it turns their heads away from your side of the carpet far too easily. you’re stapled to the corner by elbows, sight obstructed unless you’re looking through that damn viewfinder. you’re shown how he counts your losses, glows over his wins: a single camera shutter once the stars have passed and you’re looking dejectedly in their wake.

adjusting the flash might be a reasonable excuse, but this often? that was just negligent. and it didn’t seem like this guy knew the meaning of the word.

so during the next five second interlude, you shrug at him. make the what’s your problem face that tends to land you in hot water. except the water is everything but hot—there’s no water at all, in fact. because this bitch is mouthing at you to speed up and pay attention.

you hear the shutter go off when you give him the bird, and he laughs. if you weren’t so pissed, you might’ve noticed how he just barely misses the next flock of celebrities pouring through. they’ve come and gone by the time you’ve found your bearings, but confusion still stitches your brows together while you fidget with the buttons on your camera.

click.

your head snaps up, and you unconsciously straighten out your shoulders. he’s doing it again. you call out from behind the crowding of cameras; they won’t care—haven’t been listening, anyways. “can i ask what the hell your angle is?”

and he seems almost childishly giddy when he looks down at his lcd. flips it toward you, which is ridiculous, because he knows you can’t fucking see that far.

“money shot, darling.”

#pulls you aside afterwards #tells you to ditch the whole photographer shtick and model instead #he’s got someone you might want to talk to about that actually #his BOSS #is it price?? we’ll never know (i haven’t thought that far)#kyle ‘gaz’ garrick #gaz x reader #gaz x you #gaz x gn!reader #call of duty #cod #kyle gaz garrick

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eetherealgoddess · 2 days

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Hellooo! I keep on rereading all your male reader × bonten fics. It's so good. Can you please make another where the male reader is a straight alpha hybrid that is owned by bonten, but against his will? Like, he doesn't like them or the way they touch him because he doesn't like guys. So one day, Mikey was going to the reader's room to cuddle him or baby him, but he was met by moaning and whimpering which made mikey feel giddy but when he went to the room and found out that the reader was masturbating over a pornstar girl he gets mad, like MAD. He'll grab the phone and angrily ask, "what's this?" To which the reader replies, "you know I'm not gay, master." and he calls all the bonten members to punish him. 🥰

i wrote this a little different than you requested but i hope you enjoy it anyway! <3

ꨄBitchedꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Hybrid Au

❦You're a wolf hybrid who's forced to be Bonten's pet❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread!

Japanese language is red

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture him as a black male but you can see him however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Bitched

“Say please, Master.”

How did you, a hybrid wolf, who used to be an alpha to a pack get in a situation like this?

“Please, Master.” Your face warmed as you kneeled in front of the man, the palm of your hands placed on the floor as you looked up at one of your ‘owners.’ It was demeaning. Downright humiliating to be in such a situation as this. Especially when you’ve only been a leader all of your life.

The man standing above you bent over with his hands placed on his knees as he became eye level with you. His eyelids were heavy - lidded as he gazed into your irises. His bangs hung over his eyes as the purple mane fell over his shoulders. The logo on his neck prominent in your peripheral as you made eye contact.

“Something wrong, puppy?” The criminal frowned as he gave you a bored look, indicating his annoyance at your behavior. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as a rush of anxiety caused you to immediately act.

With your ears perked up and tail wagging, you straighten your posture as a wide grin forcefully grows on your face.

“Please, Master!” Your tongue hangs out as you lightly pant, aiming to be as enthusiastic as possible. Despite your actions, you are deeply ashamed of yourself. You feel like such a coward, obeying and bowing down to a group of men who have power over you. You were forced to submit, your pack having been slaughtered caused you to become a lone wolf.

It was by chance you were caught up in the middle of a deal gone wrong, bullets flying everywhere while you hid in the alleyway. The whole area was surrounded with men in suits. When you tried to escape, you were caught by the scariest short man you have ever seen. You tried to fight, only to be knocked out immediately by a sudden kick you hadn’t expected.

You miss your pack. Nothing is the same. You miss your pack Luna as well, the woman you were married to. You helped each other through your rutts and heat. The first rutt you experienced in captivity was horrible. A few of the Bonten members were ‘experimenting’ with your body, touching and poking at spots you had never even noticed. The stimulation forced you into a rutt, resulting in the need to breed.

The platinum haired male who had kicked you originally covered your erection with lube before he lowered himself to engulf your throbbing cock. You had never been attracted to males in your life, hybrid or not. Although it was enough for you to release your seed over and over, you weren’t in your right mind. Post nut clarity hit like a bitch and it forced you into a depression that still affects you.

The following rutts grew worse, some of the men bending you over like a bitch in heat. Your masculinity and ego were torn to shreds. You had to escape, you needed to leave. So you did, until you were found.

“Good boy!” Rin pats your head before placing the treat on your tongue. “Your Japanese has improved.” He smirked before grabbing the leash that hangs from your collar, forcing you to crawl along as you enter the office where some of the other executives sit.

You swallow the residue crumbs of the treat as you look down, the bruise on your knees growing the longer they are connected to the floor. You ignore the pain as you sit criss crossed, next to the feet that are crossed once Rin sits in his seat.

“Come ere’, puppy.” The older Haitani who sits next to his brother commands while patting his lap. He smiles down at you while you hold back the urge to slice his throat with your claws. You hate that they call you demeaning pet names. You’re no damn puppy. Despite your feelings, you comply, not wanting to experience the baton again.

You keep your gaze down as you refrain from eye contact with any of the men who snicker as you crawl onto Ran’s lap, your bottom connecting as his arms circled around your waist from behind. His chin rests on your shoulder as he listens to the short man.

Mikey proceeds to talk about the mission everyone is needed for, ordering them on what they should do as well as giving some information about their assignments. You could only make out some of the words that you’ve been taught, zoning out as you lose focus on the situation at hand.

“Y/n.” Your ears perk up to your name as you eye the boss.

“I expect you to be on your best behavior while we’re gone.” You knew that was a threat more than anything, though the excitement for a break without all of them being around you was more distracting than the warning.

“Yes, Master.”

It’s been a couple hours since your owners left and you’ve been searching for anything to help aid your escape. Unfortunately, security surrounds the outside area so you couldn’t leave but if only you could find something, anything.

You sigh in frustration as you slam the papers down, having snuck in Kokonoi’s room where he keeps some of the paperwork in his desk area, having already checked the office. You didn’t really know what to look for but you weren’t finding anything anyway. Thoughts of your wife and pack appear as you become saddened, tears prick your eyes before you groan, your head lying in your hands as the elbows are plastered to the desk.

You eye the laptop in front of you, staring at your reflection as memories of your wife fill your mind. You were so desperate for intimacy, ideas began to flood as you looked down in thought. You missed holding her, cooking with her, making pack rules and implementing them with her, watching her take care of the pack’s youth. You miss her nurturing nature. You slam your fist on the desk as you growl.

You need her. You need her touch. You need her care. You need her to be there with you. For the first time in your life, you felt as though someone needed to save you. You miss hearing her voice, her moans and cries of pleasure. Feeling a twitch below you bite your lip. The last time you had sex with a woman was when you originally escaped.

You were so depressed that instead of finding shelter, food, or income you went to a nightclub and boozed up. You remember the lounge area like it was yesterday.

“Fuck!” You hiss as you thrust into the human woman. The couch trembles under your weight as you rock your hips into her missionary style. She moans as her arms wrap around your neck, pulling your head to her shoulder as her nails dig into your skin.

Considering the lack of a sober mind, it was easy to imagine her as your wife which made you more passionate with your endeavor. You pull back before grabbing her face and smashing your lips to hers, slightly gripping her ears as your cock rubs along her inner walls. Her pussy sucked you in tightly as she bucked her hips against you, meeting the hard thrusts as your pace accelerated.

She kissed back eagerly though the slip of tongue reminded you that she is not who you needed though the person will have to do it. You couldn’t bother to feel guilty as the alcohol takes over your train of thought, this being your only way to gain control of your masculinity once more. As toxic as it was, you were just so desperate. You pull back as you hold the back of her legs up, thrusting before both of you moaned loudly, orgasming as your cum shoots deep inside of her.

Just as you finished, a loud shot rang out right before blood splatters on your front, covering your face. You froze, hands wide open as her legs dropped, eyeing the chunks of human flesh and blood that covered the seat above her neck. Any sign of there being a normal head or face gone as your body trembles seeing the pieces of brain scattered. Blood begins to puddle on the floor as you move back, pulling up your pants and falling off of the seat.

“So you escaped to fuck a random bitch?” Sanzu tsked before walking towards you, gun still in hand. His pink hair sways as he crouches down until he is eye level with you. The scars near his mouth stretch as a toothy smile grows on his face. You tense, ears flat as he brings the end of the gun to your head, tapping gently with each word.

“All ya had to do was let us know you were horny.” He chuckled before pulling the gun back and grin dropping. “Instead, you behaved like a traitor.”

Another presence came behind him as the taller male leaned forward, golden orbs meeting your eyes with disappointment.

“You even lost your collar, Y/n. What a bad boy.” Kazutora shakes his head before snatching the collar of your shirt, forcing you to stand up.

You shiver at the memory of what happened the night you were caught with a woman. They were not happy. The punishment was tortuous and you didn’t think you would survive. Rethinking your idea, you tsked before searching the web, typing on the keyboard of the laptop.

“It’s just porn.” You whisper to yourself. They’d be gone for a while anyway.

Clicking the chosen video, the screen displayed the logo and theme music of the site before playing the actual video. You had chosen a short video so it didn’t take long for you to remove the erection out of your pants and spit in your hand. Slick leaked from your head as you wrapped your fingers around the girth. You begin to slide up and down slowly as the woman on the screen bent over on all fours, the camera showing the angle from the side as the man entered into her. They both moan as you accelerate the motion of your hand.

Desperate you shut your eyes as you listened to her moans, imagining your wife as your grip tightened around your cock, sliding up and down at a steadied speed as your hips slightly buck into your hand. You stop for a moment to rub your thumb along the tip as you place your other hand on the base before the hand holding your cock drops to the base.

You moan as your head falls back, eyes squint as you watch the screen, the couple becoming faster and slightly sloppier with their movements as they desperately move against one another. You buck a little harder against your hand as you slide faster, building the pit in your stomach. Before you release, the grip on the back of the chair causes you to jolt, cum shooting on your own torso as you pant, a grunt escaping.

“What’s this?” You eye the man next to you, his dark orbs boring into the screen before turning his attention to you. You were shaken up, not having expected anyone to be in the building besides the guards.

“P-porn, Master.” His eyes narrow down at you before he straightens his posture, moving to the exit. He paused before taking his leave.

“Strip, Y/n.” Your hands trembled as you hesitate, turning back to look at the dark glare coming your way. Not wanting to test his patience, you comply, tossing your clothes to the floor.

“Crawl.” You lower your body to the ground, tail between your legs with your ears flat against your head. You wanted to cower. You knew this wouldn’t end well.

“Come.” You follow him out of Kokonoi’s room to the bedroom in which you stay when nobody needs your service in their bedroom. Your limp cock hangs under you as you bite your lip in embarrassment. You will never get used to this treatment.

Mikey points to the bed once you reach the center of the room. Some of the executives enter just as you climb on the bed. You sit with your legs hanging off the bed, hands on your lap as you eye them.

“Sanzu.” He states. Said man already understood the assignment, walking towards you before reaching in his pocket and snatching a small bag with a pill in it.

“Open.” He demands, your eyebrows furrowing as you eye the pink pill. Your fingers fidget against your lap as you contemplate what they could be giving you. You jolted before whimpering in pain once he used his free hand to twist your nipple.

“Don’t make me say it again, Y/n.” Your lips fell apart before he placed the substance on your tongue. It dissolves as soon as your saliva touches it.

“This will be a part of your training since you haven’t learned your lesson.” Mikey states, watching as the medicine takes effect.

You begin to feel a heat rising just as a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen. Moisture forms out of your ass and cock as it grows, an ungodly amount of slick beginning to ooze out all at once. Your fingers meet the blanket as your claws pierce through in agony and an overwhelming sense of need.

You couldn’t believe what you were feeling. You’ve never felt anything like this before. All you know is that there’s this yearning to be stretched, full and bred. Similar to how your wife would get during her heat. It was as if you were turning into an omega in heat. Your back drops to the bed as your arms circle around your stomach, repositioning yourself into a fetal position.

“You will learn who you belong to.” Mikey crouched to where his face is in front of yours, watching as the tears stream down your face while a painful tightness forms in your cock.

“You will learn your place.” Rin moved your lower body to place the cock ring around your girth as well as your testicles, drawing a pained groan to escape your mouth.

“Look at you… you were never meant to be an alpha.” You whimper as you feel a pressure behind you against your backside. You attempt to sway your arm to fight back, only to be pinned with your stomach against the bed. The firm wet surface replaced itself back against your anus.

“You’re my bitch.” Mikey hissed just as the toy was shoved into your ass, leaving you no room to adjust as it was pushed all the way to the base. You cry out as it stretches your ass, cock leaking against the bed as you whimper from the pain.

“O-oh… shit!” The toy began to buzz as it stuck deep inside your ass. Tears streamed heavily down your face as the feeling in your stomach grew. Your anal walls tightened around the thick rubber as you looked slightly back to see what was buzzing inside of you.

Kazutora holds your tail up as his hand blocks the toy from slipping out, a smile on his face as you make eye contact through your tears.

“Doesn’t that feel good? Dirty boy.” He teased, pushing against the toy that’s already pressed hard against your prostate.

“Ah…” You breathe out, eyebrows furrowed as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“This is who you are.” Mikey says softly, gazing at your heated face and sweat that formed. He uses a hand to caress your head in between your ears.

Your hips move against the bed, aiding in a pressure against your cock as you seek a release. The cock rings are so tight around you. You could barely think properly.

“How filthy. You’re such a desperate little omega aren’t you?” Ran whispers in your ear on the other side of you. You shake your head.

“N-no… I-I’m an alp…!” A harsh smack on your ass caused you to yelp.

“Bad omega. Accept your alphas.” Rin rubbed along the bruise forming from his sharp slap.

The pill that induced a heat from you is making everything more confusing than it needs to be. Their words aren’t helping and it was frustrating. You desperately needed air but the twitching from your cock and stimulation from your ass says otherwise.

“Do you even deserve to cum, puppy?” Sanzu questioned you as he caressed your back.

You gasp in surprise as you’re forced on your back, the buzzing rubber still inside you.

“Awe, look at how swollen you are.” Ran says before gently wrapping his hand around your cock, thumb barely grazing over the tip as your hips buck.

“P-please…” Everything feels so overwhelming, you just wanted to release so you could run away.

“Please what?” You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to comply and give in, but did you really have a choice?

“Please, Master.”

“Still don’t know whatcha want.” Ran smirked just as Kazutora pulled the vibrator to the edge of your entrance, drawing a cry out of you. A hand forced you to look to the side.

“Tell me what you want.” Mikey demands, expression stoic though with an intense gaze.

“I-I want to cum, please Master.”

You officially hate yourself.

The tall man lowered his head before lightly gliding his tongue across the head of your throbbing cock. You grunt as Ran’s lips circle around the tip before lowering down your shaft. You thrust once you hit the back of his throat.

“A-ah!” Lips crash against yours as Mikey pulls you in for a deep kiss. Sanzu unhooks your collar before wrapping a hand around your throat, leaning in to nibble your ear.

Kazutora shoves the cock back inside of you, pressing it against your prostate once more as Rin leaves a hickey on your thigh. Just as you near your orgasm, they all pull back at once, leaving your ass empty and cock unattended as well as the rest of your skin.

“He doesn’t deserve to cum.”

“Bad omegas shouldn’t get to release during their heat.”

“Dirty boys should work for their orgasm.”

You cry out as a thick cock shoves itself all the way inside your ass, immediately slamming against your prostate.

Blonde and black hair drapes over you as Kazutora grinds his hips against you, holding your legs up as he pulls back before bucking into you again. You moan out like an omega who’s been stretched by an alpha for the first time.

“Look at how he’s taking it.”

“Such a slutty omega.”

“All those tears for what? You love this shit.”

“Dirty boy.”

Their words were just as overwhelming as the cock hitting your prostate, sliding in and out of your anal walls as it stretched you full. Your cock twitched as Kazutora grabbed your girth, squeezing slightly before rubbing with the thrusts.

“You better not cum.” Mikey said to you from the side.

“Only good omegas deserve to nut.” Sanzu hissed in your other ear.

“Ah, shit.” Kazutora whispers as his head falls back, releasing your cock before putting your legs over his shoulders and leaning over, gaining better access as he grinds against you.

“F-fuck yeah, baby.” His mouth hangs open as he thoroughly thrusts into you for his own pleasure, not bothering to hold back as he nears his release.

“He’s taking it like a whore.” Rin smirked as he watched your face morph in pleasure, the substance completely clouding your mind as you took Kazutora’s thrusts.

“Of course he is. He was made for this.” Ran states as Kazutora reaches his release with a loud groan, grinding out his orgasm as you desperately buck against him for your own, though nothing comes out which causes another intense pain in your abdomen.

Pulling out, slick fell once more. You release a pained cry as they all step back.

“Please…” You cry.

“Take this as a lesson, Y/n.” Mikey says as the executives begin to walk out of the room, chuckling about your suffering as Mikey turns to look at you once more before taking his leave.

“You’re always going to be my bitch.”

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bbradyskjei · 2 days

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HIDDEN FEELINGS

FRAT!RAFE CAMERON X READER

Summary: You’ve been single for way to long and ask Rafe to set you up with one of his friends. Will he listen to you or will other feeling be revealed?

A/N: My first post!! English isn't my first language so please let me know of any spelling mistakes or weird grammar!

Word count: 1,6K

Warnings: swearing, kissing, partying, underage drinking

“What?”

“I want you to set me up with one of your friends.”

Shocked was an understatement for Rafe. He's waited all these years just for you to tell him you want one of his friends? The underlying feeling of jealousy made him pull his mouth into a thin line.

“Didn't you just say you hated them?” He looked at you and narrowed his eyes. “No?” You furrowed your eyebrows. He just silently nodded his head. Had you said that? You couldn't recall even if you did. I mean, frats weren’t exactly the type you would go for, yeah the parties were great but other than that majority of them would just want to stick their tongue down some cheerleaders throat. Your thoughts were interrupted by his soft voice. “Yeah.” “Yeah?”

“Yeah I can fix that.” He continued nodding. “Really?!” You threw your arms around his neck and he lunged forward, catching you by the small of your back. You got this weird feeling in your stomach but shook it off. I mean, it was a couple of weeks ago your crush on the boy faded away. At Least you thought it did? That's what you told yourself. He pulled back and held you by the shoulders. “You owe me.”

You just rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” He let out a laugh under his breath and gazed down at you. You could see his eyes traveling to your lips. All of a sudden you got nervous. Did he hold some type of feelings for you? No don’t get your hopes up you told yourself To break the silence you let out a nervous laugh, “maybe I can set you up with one of my friends.” “Huh, yeah we’ll see about that.” He threw his arm around your shoulder and steered you towards the entrance of the school. You threw your arm around his waist.

You pushed through the sweaty bodies of college kids the best you could. The smell of alcohol filling your nose quickly. With a low grunt you managed to get out to the backyard. You looked for a familiar face but couldn't find anyone. You took a lap around the giant pool and peered around. Who owned this house? It was huge. Rafe and his other ‘frat bros’ had invited you and your friends to tag along. Of course you agreed, you never turn down some free alcohol, plus your night was gonna be boring anyway. Consisting of you probably doing another movie marathon alone.

A hand on your shoulder made you jump around. A smiling Sarah Cameron stood in front of you. “Jeez Sarah what the fuck.” She just laughed. Rafe was your bestfriend and therefore Sarah became one of your close friends. You peered around her and she grabbed your hand dragging you over to a group of people. You greeted your other friends with a hug. JJ whistled at you. You gave him a look of disapproval but soon couldn't hold it in and you both laughed. “You look hot. Who are you trying to impress?” “No one.” He tilted his head at you and narrowed his eyes. “JJ.” You laughed. He threw his hands up and dropped it.

It felt like hours had passed. The liquor in your cup swirled around the edges. You bit at the rim of the cup. Where's Rafe? You had already asked Sarah but her answer didn't do much. You sighed and looked around the backyard. Some people were passed out on the lawn, others were making out against the wall. The shine of the moonlight lit up your face and you rubbed a hand on your head. This music is really giving you a headache.

That's when you saw them. Rafe and some sorority girl. What? You couldn't stop yourself from letting out a scoff. Kie turned to you and got ready to question you. She didn't have to, only followed your gaze. “Is that Rafe?” She asked. “Sure looks like it.” You answered with furrowed eyebrows. Why did you even care? Your feelings had dropped. Right? Still you couldn't deny the bubbling feeling of jealousy in the pit of your stomach. You watched him pull away and snake his arm around to the small of her back. She was gorgeous, you couldn't deny that. Long brown hair, slim, manicured nails, cute face. She had it all.

His gaze met yours and you could see his smile fall. You sucked on your teeth and only gave him an eye roll. Before you turned around you watched him make his way towards the group.

“Y/n.” Rafe. You thought. You only gave him so much as you flipped your head around. And there he stood, behind him he had the girl. You ignored her for now and turned your focus to him. “What?” You asked. “Can we talk?” Your tongue glided over your teeth and you suggested the two of you go inside. “Without you.” You watched as he gazed at the other girl. Hannah was her name you think. “Oh, yeah of course.” She said and strutted towards another group of frats.

Inside Rafe turned you towards him by your shoulder. “Look…” He started. “Weren't you supposed to hook me up with your friends?” You interrupted him. You were angry. Angry because he ignored you. Angry because he didn't even try. Angry because he went to another girl- “Do I have to play some sort of babysitter or what? Why can't you just do it yourself?” Now it was his turn to be angry. You scoffed. “Oh so now it's my problem?” You raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms. He looked around the room quickly and shook his head. “You seemed pretty content in JJs company.” You opened your mouth to say something but he quickly continued speaking.

“Do I really need to hook you up with someone when you have him?” He gazed down at you with pursed lips. You stared back. JJ? “JJs my friend. Rafe.” The answer you got was a grunt. “Yeah right” he whispered under his breath. “Weren't you the one pushing your tongue down some girl's throat just now?” You shot back, your voice falling. “Hannah.” “What?” “Her name’s Hannah.” Fucking Hannah. You were right then. “Since when do you even care?” He let out. Since forever you thought. A sigh left your mouth. It felt like you were trapped. What were you supposed to say? You felt it get hotter around you if it could even get hotter. The burning sensation in your throat didn't help.

“Y/n?” Your eyes traveled up to his. “Since forever..” You whispered. “What?” He leant in with his ear. “Since forever Rafe.” He only looked at you with a questionable gaze.

“That was supposed to be me. Kissing you.” Your mouth is moving faster than your brain at this moment. His mouth opened and closed but no words came out. You closed your eyes. Great, you just embarrassed yourself.

After a moment he broke the silence. Your eyes shot open. “But what about my friends?” He asked. “Rafe. You don't get it.” You sighed. “So tell me.” He pleaded. You could feel his hand grip yours. Butterflies erupted inside your stomach. It went quiet again and he slightly leaned forward. “Show me.” He whispered. You wasted no time connecting your lips to his. It was a heated kiss filled with passion. You could taste the bitterness of the liquor he had downed before. He sighed into your lips and his hands made their way around your waist. His grip firm but soft on your skin. Your lips moved in sync and you only pulled away for air. He chased your lips once again but you stopped him. Both of your chests heaved up and down and you catched your breath. “Oh you don't understand how long I've wanted to do that.” He smiled. “Really?” You said and let out a breath. He only nodded as a response and pulled you in once again by the small of your back. You let out a laugh before sharing yet another passion filled kiss. Pulling away you bit your lip. “But what about Hannah?” Your smile fading. “I don't care about some random sorority girl. Hannah was a distraction.” “For what?” “You. Y/n I've liked you for an eternity.” You let your head fall forward and land on his chest. “Why didn't you tell me!?” You let out. He stuttered. “ I dont fucking know, I was scared.” He breathed out. Only laughing when he saw you trying to hold it back. He leant forward once again only now connecting your foreheads to each other. His eyelids closing, you doing to same. This was the first real intimate moment between the two of you.

“Come on.” He mumbled and led you outside by your hand. You struggled to keep up with him but soon made your way over to the rest of your friends. Topper was the first to notice. “Hey where were you guys? We were looking for you but gave up.” He said, swallowing his sip of whatever drink he had. Sarah was next to question you. “Yeah. Come on here, sit.” She motioned to a place on the sofa they were sitting on. Her gaze landed on your connected hands. “Oh I see…lovebirds” She half smirked. A small smile broke out on your face.

You dropped Rafes hand, about to take a seat before he swiftly sat down and pulled you with him by your thighs. You landed on his lap. His hands made their way around your waist and held on tightly. Raising your eyebrows at him he only pecked your lips. Kelce let out a laugh. “About time Rafe.” All he got was a punch to his arm as an answer before the rest of the group laughed along. “Yeah, yeah. I got the girl now.” Rafe said and looked at you lovingly. “And I got the boy now.” You whispered to him before connecting your lips once again.

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