#he was like: I knew you was white but not this fucking white
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Synopsis: Poor jeonghan is invited to a frat party by the jocks, but it was just a bad joke, because they didn't like seeing you with the nerd. They just didn't expect that on the same night, you would fuck your good boy.
This is a part 2 of Nerd!Jeonghan – Part 1
Warnings: Tricking, slight angst, smut, fingering, oral (m. receiving), cock riding, overstimulation, wap, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, penetrative sex, protected sex, Jeonghan teases reader without noticing and etc.
WC: 5.3k
The cafeteria was buzzing with the usual chatter and clatter of trays and cutlery. You were surrounded by your friends, laughing at a joke someone had made, when suddenly a tray was placed in front of you. The food on it was from the most expensive selection in the canteen, a treat you rarely indulged in. You glanced up and saw Jeonghan's retreating figure, leaving no room for argument.
"What's this?" one of your friends asked, eyeing the tray curiously.
"Looks like someone's got a secret admirer," another teased.
You chuckled, shaking your head as you picked up an apple from the tray. "It's nothing like that. Just… a thank you, I guess."
As you ate the delicious lunch, your mind wandered to Jeonghan. You decided to find him after you were done. Finishing the meal, you took the apple and headed out, searching for Jeonghan around the campus.
Eventually, you spotted him sitting alone on the grandstand, eyes focused on the field. You walked over and sat down beside him, taking a bite of the apple. He turned his head slightly to acknowledge your presence.
"Are you going to buy lunch for me without lunching with me?" you teased, nudging him playfully.
Jeonghan gave you a shy smile. "I just wanted to thank you for the glasses. I'm going to buy you lunch till the end of the year to pay you back and–"
You placed a finger on his lips to shush him, causing his eyes to widen slightly. "You don't need to do that, Jeonghan. The guys broke your glasses, so I needed to do the right thing. And… because I think you're a good boy."
Jeonghan's cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and he bit his lip nervously. The sight of you up close, with your unbuttoned white shirt revealing a hint of your chest and your skirt riding up your thighs under the hot sun, made his heart race. Your perfume lingered in the air, making him take a deep breath, trying to memorize the scent.
"Good boy?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.
You nodded, your eyes sparkling with sincerity. "Yes, a good boy. You're kind, and you don't deserve the way they treat you."
Jeonghan couldn't help but feel aroused by your words, if only you knew the effect you had on him, you'd probably think he was a pervert. He swallowed hard, trying to compose himself.
"Thank you," he managed to say, his voice shaky. "It means a lot coming from you."
He watched as you took another bite of the apple, the simple act somehow feeling incredibly intimate.
"So, lunch tomorrow?" you asked, breaking the silence.
Jeonghan chuckled, finally relaxing a bit. "Sure, lunch tomorrow."
Jeonghan already thought you looked gorgeous, and now that he found out you were this kind, you looked even prettier to his eyes. He now had a friend—someone outside of the geek club. The jocks noticed the change. They saw how he now lunched with you, how you chattered with him excitedly, how you hugged him when he arrived on campus, and how you two shared dessert after lunch. Their curiosity got the better of them.
"What the fuck is going on?" one of them asked, bewildered.
One afternoon, you hadn't arrived in class yet. Jeonghan was nervously fiddling with his pen, wondering what kind of torment the day might bring, when James, one of the jocks, approached him. Jeonghan tensed, preparing for the worst—another broken pair of glasses, a stolen lunch, or a demand for homework. Instead, James placed a card on his table.
"Be at the frat party tonight. Y/N will be there," James said curtly before walking away.
Jeonghan looked at the card in his hand, not too confident but filled with a glimmer of hope. You would be there.
[…]
It was Friday night, and Jeonghan had always heard about the infamous frat parties. He had often wondered what they were like but never had the guts to seek an invitation. Tonight was different. He dressed in a white shirt paired with a black leather jacket—an ensemble suggested by his mom through text messages. She assured him he would look handsome like that.
Jeonghan glanced at his phone, following the map to the party's location. But as he arrived, his surroundings felt wrong. The map indicated he had reached his destination, yet he found himself in a wasteland—dark, empty, and desolate. He looked around, searching for any sign of a party. There was nothing. No movement, no lights, no sounds of laughter or music. His heart sank as the realization hit him, he had been tricked.
Jeonghan's footsteps echoed loudly against the pavement as he briskly walked away from the supposed frat party location. His mind was a whirlwind of frustration, embarrassment, and anger. How could he have been so naive to think that someone like him would be invited to a party where someone like you would be present?
As he made his way down the bustling avenue, he heard his name being called. Initially, he ignored it, hoping to avoid any further interactions that would only add to his already sour mood. But when the voice persisted, he reluctantly glanced over his shoulder, only to see you standing there.
You were dressed in your office attire, looking professional and put-together as always, with a leather bag slung over your shoulder. Your brows furrowed in concern as you called out to him, and you reached out to touch his shoulder gently. Seeing Jeonghan ignore you was so out of character for him.
"Jeonghan, wait! What happened?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine worry.
Jeonghan stopped in his tracks, his jaw clenched as he turned to face you.
"What happened?" he repeated, his tone sharp with irritation. "What do you think happened, Y/N? I was tricked. Played for a fool. Just like always." he snaps, immediately regretting the harshness in his tone.
You blinked, taken aback by his sudden hostility. "Jeonghan, I… I don't understand. What do you mean you were tricked?"
Jeonghan let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I thought… I thought maybe things were finally looking up for me. That maybe, someone like you actually wanted to spend time with me." he breathes in. "I was invited to some stupid frat party, and when I got there, there was nothing. No party, no people, just darkness."
His words came out in a bitter rush, his emotions raw and unfiltered. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and he hated it.
You looked at him with concern, trying to piece together what he was saying. "Jeonghan, I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't invite you to any party. I… I would never do something like that."
Jeonghan scoffed, his disbelief evident. "Come on, Y/N. Don't play dumb. I saw the card. James gave it to me himself, said you would be there."
Your eyes widened in realization, and you shook your head vehemently. "James? That jerk! Jeonghan, I had nothing to do with that. I swear."
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, searching your face for any hint of deception. But all he saw was sincerity and genuine concern.
"Why would James lie about something like that?" he asked, his voice softer now, the anger slowly ebbing away.
You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Because he's an asshole, Jeonghan. He probably thought it would be funny to mess with you. But I had no idea. I'm so sorry."
Jeonghan's shoulders slumped as he processed your words. He felt relief and embarrassment wash over him, along with a twinge of guilt for snapping at you earlier.
"I… I'm sorry, Y/N," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't have lashed out like that. It's just… it's been a rough night."
You take Jeonghan's hand in yours, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. His thumb draws soothing circles on the back of your hand as you look into his eyes, filled with gratitude for your understanding.
"Let's go," you say softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "I was actually going to pass by a convenience store. We can pick up some snacks and drinks, and then we'll head to my place. We can have our own little party there."
Jeonghan's lips curve into a hesitant smile, the tension slowly melting away from his features. "That sounds… nice," he replies, his voice tinged with relief.
You start walking together, the weight of the earlier misunderstanding lifting from your shoulders.
The atmosphere in your room was cozy, the soft glow of the lamp casting warm shadows against the walls. You and Jeonghan sat side by side on your bed, beers in hand, watching a variety program on the television. Your thigh rested comfortably over his, his hand resting on your skin as if it belonged there.
You had ditched the frat parties long ago, opting instead for chill nights like these, where you could actually hear each other talk and enjoy each other's company without the chaos. And right now, with Jeonghan so close, it felt perfect.
The alcohol had loosened both of you up, making conversation flow easier and nerves dissipated. Jeonghan seemed more relaxed now, his touch becoming almost absent-minded as he reached for his beer can or adjusted his position on the bed.
You couldn't deny the way his touch was melting you into the mattress, stealing the air from your lungs and flooding your senses with horniness.
But no matter how obvious you tried to make it, Jeonghan remained focused on the television, seemingly unaware of your growing need. It was frustrating, maddening even, to be so close to him and yet feel so far apart.
Occasionally, your hips would shift involuntarily, seeking some kind of friction to alleviate the growing ache between your legs. You clenched around nothing, as your nipples hardened on your tank top.
As Jeonghan reached for his beer can once more, his hand unconsciously squeezing your thigh further up, a sudden surge of pleasure shot through you. Before you could even stop yourself, an involuntary moan escaped your lips, echoing in the quiet room.
Jeonghan froze, his hand still resting on your thigh, his eyes widening in shock. Did he just make you moan? Or worse, did he hurt you?
"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice filled with genuine concern as he quickly withdrew his hand.
You bite your lip, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood through you at your own reaction. But before you could respond, another moan escaped your lips, this time his name falling from them like a plea. "Hannie…"
The sound sent a jolt of arousal coursing through him, his own desire spiking at the realization that he had caused you to moan like that.
He looked at you, sprawled out on the bed, your eyes heavy with desire, your skin flushed and hot to the touch. Your lips were parted, your breath coming in shallow gasps, and your legs were parted ever so slightly, inviting him in.
Jeonghan stopped, his mind racing with uncertainty. What should he do? There wasn't enough time to think. His hand moved a little further up your thigh experimentally, not quite touching your crotch, but close enough to feel the heat radiating from you. He caught a glimpse of your hips rolling slightly in his hand's direction, a silent plea for more.
"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice breathy and filled with need.
Oh.
Jeonghan froze for a moment, taken aback by your request. He took a moment to compose himself, slowly removing his glasses and placing them on the table beside the bed. Then, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss.
But if you left it up to him, the two of you would be content with simple pecks. You needed more. Parting your lips, you gently made passage inside his mouth with your tongue, feeling his wet muscle gently caress yours as he gasped in surprise.
You leaned into him, your hand finding the way to his hair, gripping it softly as you deepened the kiss. Jeonghan's initial hesitation melted away as he responded, his hands roaming up and down your thigh, drawing you closer to him.
The kiss grew more passionate, your tongues dancing together, exploring and tasting. You could feel Jeonghan's breath quicken, matching your own, and the electric connection between you intensified with every passing second. Your hips moved closer, seeking the friction you so desperately craved, and his hand inched higher, teasing innocently.
Your body was practically vibrating with need, and you couldn't take the teasing any longer. Grabbing Jeonghan's hand, you guided it to your clothed pussy, under your loose shorts, pressing his fingers against the wet fabric of your panties. He let you lead him, his uncertainty evident, but the touch was enough to make you whine.
Jeonghan's breath hitched as he felt the heat and dampness beneath his hand. His jeans suddenly felt unbearably tight, and he realized he was suffering just as much as you were.
He wanted to make you feel good, but he wasn't entirely sure how to proceed.
Taking a deep breath, he started to move his fingers tentatively, exploring the shape of you through your panties. His touch was hesitant at first, but as he felt you react, he grew a little bolder, pressing more firmly and rubbing small circles over your sensitive spot–that he have found based on your moaning frequency.
You moaned softly, the sound making Jeonghan shiver. He could feel your hips moving against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure. His own arousal was becoming almost unbearable, but he was focused on you, on the way your body responded to his touch.
"Jeonghan," you breathed, your voice thick with desire. "Don't stop."
Encouraged by your words, Jeonghan's movements became more confident. He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles, while his fingers teased along the edges of your panties. Each touch makes you gasp and arch your back.
Jeonghan's eyes were locked on your face, watching the expressions of pleasure that played across it. He wanted to make you feel good, to see you lose yourself in the sensations he was creating.
"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I need you."
That was all the encouragement Jeonghan needed. With a newfound determination, he slipped his hand inside your panties, his fingers finally making contact with your wet, aching core. You let out a shuddering moan, your hips bucking against his hand as he explored your wet cunt, flipping the folds, and the clit with his fingers.
You had always noticed Jeonghan's hands, often daydreaming about how they might feel pleasuring you. And now, here you were, living out that fantasy. You murmured against his lips, "Put your fingers inside me."
Jeonghan moaned softly at your words, the sensitivity in his voice making you even more aroused. He gently slid a slender finger inside you, your pussy immediately clenching tight around him. The sensation made you clap a hand over your mouth as your hips shuddered involuntarily.
"Can I put another one in?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity.
You moaned in response, clenching around his finger to let him know you wanted more.
So he took this as a yes.
He carefully inserted a second finger. You sobbed with pleasure, grabbing his arm and burying your open mouth against his shoulder. The fact that Jeonghan looked so innocent and focused while doing this made you even hornier.
"You're doing so fucking good, Jeonghan," you panted, motivating him to continue. "Your fingers feel so amazing inside me. Keep going, just like that."
His cheeks grew red at the lack of filter in your words, but he continued, determined to make you feel as good as possible. When his fingers brushed upwards, hitting a particularly sensitive spot inside you, you let out a loud, pornographic moan.
Jeonghan froze for a moment, realizing he had hit a good spot, making it clear he needed to do that again.
He repeated the motion, and your reaction was immediate, your body arching with pleasure. You grew impatient, quickly taking off your shorts and panties, spreading your legs wider for him.
Jeonghan's eyes widened as he saw your pussy, wet and throbbing, his hand already soaked from your arousal, and the creamy sound of your juices nearly overwhelmed him.
"Jeonghan, I need more," you gasped, your voice dripping with need. "Please, keep doing that. It feels so good. You’re making me so wet."
He continued to move his fingers, now more confidently, brushing that sensitive spot again and again. "Like this?" he asked, his voice husky with arousal.
"Yes, just like that," you moaned, your hips rocking against his hand. "You’re so good at this, Jeonghan. I’ve wanted this for so long. Your fingers feel so perfect inside me."
His blush deepened, but he didn’t stop. If anything, your words spurred him on, making him want to please you even more. The intensity of your arousal drove him wild, and he couldn't help but marvel at how your body responded to his touch.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice shaky. "I can't believe this is happening."
"It is," you panted, your eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "And it's even better than I imagined. Don't stop, Jeonghan. Please, don't stop."
He nodded, focusing on the rhythm that made you moan so deliciously. The room filled with the sounds of your pleasure, the creamy wetness of your pussy.
"God, Jeonghan, look at how wet you make me," you moaned, your voice dripping with need. "I want you to fuck me with your fingers until I can't take it anymore."
He swallowed hard, his eyes wide with arousal–and awe.
He felt you were near. Your breath hesitated, your fingers clenched around his arm, your pussy tightened around his fingers, and your mouth fell open in a perfect 'O'.
You came back from your orgasm with a shuddering moan, squirming and closing your legs together as the waves of pleasure rolled through you.
Jeonghan waited for you to compose yourself, slowly withdrawing his fingers. A line of cum connected his finger and your pussy, and the sight made your breath hitch again. You raised your hand and palmed his cock through his jeans, causing Jeonghan to tremble and a whimper to leave his mouth.
"Are you going to let me touch you?" you asked, your voice low and seductive.
Jeonghan nodded, lowering his jeans and boxers to his knees. His cock sprang free, landing against his thigh. Your eyes widened in awe at the sight. His long cock was flushed a deep pink, almost red, with pre-cum dripping from the tip as if he had already cum. His balls looked full, heavy with need.
Seeing you almost 'appreciating the view' Jeonghan blushed and said shyly, "Y/N-nie, don't look at me like that."
You teased him with a smirk, "Like what, Jeonghan? Like you're the most delicious thing I've ever seen? Because you are. Your cock is so beautiful, I can't wait to feel it in my mouth, to taste you."
Jeonghan's blush deepened, but his cock twitched in response to your words. "R-really?" he stammered, his shyness evident.
You leaned in closer, your hand wrapping around his shaft, feeling the weight and heat of him. "Really," you purred. "I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel. Do you want that, Jeonghan? Do you want me to suck your cock, to take you in my mouth and make you cum?"
His eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan escaping his lips. "Yes, please," he whispered, his voice trembling with anticipation.
You leaned forward, your breath ghosting over the head of his cock, making him shiver. "Good boy," you whispered, before taking him into your mouth. The taste of his pre-cum was salty and sweet, and you moaned around his length, the vibrations making him gasp.
You worked your mouth up and down his shaft, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper. Jeonghan's hands clenched the sheets, his hips bucking slightly as he tried to control himself. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and the sight of you with his cock in your mouth made him groan.
"Y/N, that feels so good," he panted, his voice rough with need. "Please, don't stop."
You hummed around him, taking him even deeper, your throat relaxing as you swallowed around his length.
His reaction was immediate, a choked moan spilling from his lips as his hips jerked.
"You liked that, didn't you?" you teased, pulling back to lick a long stripe up the underside of his cock. "You like it when I take you deep, when I make you feel so good."
"Yes," he gasped, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "I love it. Please, more."
You took him back into your mouth, your hand pumping the base of his cock as you bobbed your head. Jeonghan's moans grew louder, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. You could feel him getting closer, his cock twitching in your mouth, his thighs trembling.
"I'm gonna– Hm!" his voice was strained. "Y/N, I'm so close."
You didn't stop, your mouth working him faster, harder, determined to make him cum. Jeonghan's body tensed, his moans turning into desperate whimpers as he reached his peak. With a final, shuddering gasp, he came, his hot cum filling your mouth.
You swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, before pulling back and looking up at him with a satisfied smile. Jeonghan's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.
He was fucked. That was the only thought running through Jeonghan's mind as he lay there, his body still trembling from his orgasm. The way you were looking at him right now, with a burning gaze that promised so much more, was driving him wild. The kind features you normally wore had given way to a predatory look, and he found it incredibly arousing.
You pushed him gently, making him lie back on the bed. You helped him take off his shirt, your hands gliding over his smooth skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your eyes never left his as you moved lower, and lower, until you were level with his chest.
Jeonghan's breath hitched as you licked around his nipple, your warm tongue sending jolts of pleasure through him. Your other hand slid down his ribcage until you reached his other nipple, pinching it weakly. He was hazy, his mind clouded with desire, and he couldn't stop the moans that escaped his lips.
"Do you enjoy that?" you teased, your voice sultry and low. "I love hearing you moan like this."
Jeonghan sucked in a breath, trying to stop himself from moaning–like it was something bad.. The effort made him tremble, especially when your teeth grazed his sensitive bud.
"Jeonghan," you murmured, your voice a tantalizing whisper. "I want to hear you. Don't hold back."
He looked at you, his eyes wide and filled with submission. "Please," he whispered, his voice shaky. "Don't stop."
Your smile was wicked as you continued your ministrations, licking and nibbling on his nipples, alternating between the two. Jeonghan's moans grew louder, more desperate, as you pushed him further into a haze of pleasure.
"Good boy," you purred, your breath hot against his skin. "Just let go. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel."
Jeonghan's head fell back against the pillow, his body arching into your touch. "Oh, God," he moaned, his voice breathless. "It feels so good."
You felt a surge of satisfaction at his words, your own arousal intensifying. You moved your mouth lower, kissing and nipping at his skin, leaving a trail of love bites down his torso. His body was like a live wire beneath you, every touch sending shivers through him.
"You're so sensitive," you murmured against his skin, your tongue dipping into his navel. "I love it. I love making you feel this way."
Jeonghan's hands gripped the sheets, his knuckles white from the effort. "Y/N, please," he begged, his voice a raw whisper. "I need you."
You paused, looking up at him with a teasing smile. "Need me? How do you need me, Jeonghan? Tell me what you want."
His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but his desire overpowered his shyness. "I want you," he breathed. "I want to feel you. Please, Y/N."
You moved back up his body, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss him deeply. His hands found your waist, holding you tightly as he returned the kiss with fervor.
"You're going to get everything you want," you promised against his lips. "But first, I want to hear you moan again. Can you do that for me, Jeonghan?"
He nodded, his eyes dark with lust. "Yes," he whispered. "I'll moan for you. I'll do anything for you."
With that, you resumed your teasing, your hands and mouth working together to drive him to the edge once more. And true to his word, Jeonghan didn't hold back. His moans filled the room.
You reached into the drawer beside your bed, picking up a condom and ripping it open with your teeth. The sound made Jeonghan's breath hitch, and his eyes followed your every move. You slid the condom onto his cock, smiling as you felt his stomach tremble at the contact.
Straddling him, you positioned yourself over his length, teasing him by sliding the head of his cock in and out of your dripping entrance. Jeonghan's whines grew louder, his hips bucking slightly as he tried to push deeper into you.
"Please," he begged, his voice strained with need.
You tilted your head, pretending not to understand. "Please what, Jeonghan? What do you want me to do?"
He blushed, his shyness momentarily overpowering his desperation. "Please, put it in," he whispered.
You continued to tease him, moving just the tip of his cock in and out of you, creating a delicious friction. "Put what in, Jeonghan?" you asked, your voice dripping with seduction. "I want to hear you say it."
Jeonghan's cheeks flushed even deeper, but his desire was too strong to hold back. "Let me slide inside your pussy." he finally whispered, his voice shaky and embarrassed.
You smiled wickedly, loving the way the dirty words sounded coming from someone as innocent-looking as him. "Good boy," you murmured. "That's what I wanted to hear"
Slowly, you sank down onto him, taking your time to savor the sensation of him filling you up. Jeonghan's eyes fluttered closed, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. His hands gripped your hips, holding you tight as he tried to keep from thrusting up into you.
"Fuck," he gasped, his voice raw with pleasure. "You feel so good."
You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear. "You feel amazing too, Jeonghan," you whispered. "I love how you fill me up. Do you like being inside me?"
"Yes," he groaned, his hands tightening on your hips. "I love it. I love feeling you around me."
You started to move, rocking your hips slowly, savoring the way his cock stretched you. Jeonghan's face was a picture of pure ecstasy, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure, his lips parted as he panted for breath. Every thrust made his stomach tighten, his muscles quivering with the effort to hold back.
"You look so beautiful like this," you murmured, your hands sliding up his chest. "So vulnerable. I love making you feel good."
Jeonghan's eyes fluttered open, his gaze meeting yours. "Y/N, please," he whimpered. "I need more. Please, fuck me harder."
You smiled, picking up the pace, your movements becoming more urgent. "You like it when I fuck you hard, hm?" you teased, your voice low and seductive.
"Yes," he gasped, his head falling back against the pillow. "I love it. Please, don't stop."
You rode him harder, your hips slamming down onto his with a rhythm that drove both of you wild. Jeonghan's moans grew louder, more desperate, as he felt himself getting closer to the edge.
"You're such a good boy," you purred, your hands sliding up to his shoulders for better leverage. "You take my pussy so well. Do you want to cum for me, Jeonghan?"
"Yes," he cried out, his voice breaking with need. "Please, let me cum. I need to cum so bad."
As you rode him harder and harder, he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. His body tensed, his breath hitched, and he could barely form coherent thoughts as pleasure consumed him entirely.
"You're going to cum again?" you asked.
Jeonghan tried to answer, he really did. But when he felt the waves of pleasure crashing over him, all he could do was surrender to the overwhelming sensation. His eyes rolled back, his back arched, and he came inside the condom with a primal moan, his entire body trembling with release.
Your name fell from his lips over and over again, like a mantra, as he rode out his orgasm. He felt like he was floating, as you continued to move above him, drawing out every last drop of pleasure.
When the intensity finally subsided, Jeonghan's body relaxed, completely spent. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath, his body still tingling with the aftershocks of his second orgasm.
You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. "You were amazing, baby." you murmured, your voice soft and tender.
Feeling Jeonghan's sensitivity beneath you, you decided to shift your focus. You didn't want to push him too far, especially after the intense release he just experienced. So, you brought his thumb to your lips, spitting on it to moisten it before guiding it down to your swollen clit.
His touch was tentative at first, but as you encouraged him, he grew more confident, his finger tracing circles on your sensitive bud. You could feel the pressure building within you, your body responding eagerly to his touch despite the softness of his cock inside you.
As he continued to stimulate you, you could feel yourself squeezing around his cock, your walls clenching involuntarily as pleasure washed over you. Your orgasm approached rapidly, fueled by the dual sensations of his finger on your clit and his cock filling your cunt.
You guided the rhythm of his finger, matching it to the pace that drove you wild. With each circle, each stroke, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
"Right there," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't stop, Jeonghan. Keep going."
His movements became more urgent, more insistent, as he worked you towards your peak. Your breaths came in short, ragged gasps, your body trembling with anticipation.
And then, with a shuddering moan, your orgasm crashed over you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being. Your muscles tensed, your back arched, as you cried out his name.
Jeonghan continued to finger you through your climax, his touch gentle yet firm, prolonging the intensity of your pleasure until you were completely spent.
Feeling Jeonghan's finger continue to work you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, you couldn't help but laugh softly at the oversensitivity coursing through your body. Sensations danced along your skin, making every touch, every caress feel electrifying.
You gently guided his hand away from your clit, needing a moment to catch your breath and revel in the lingering waves of pleasure. With a satisfied sigh, you reached down, taking his cock in your hand and sliding it out of your pussy. It was still slick with your arousal, and you couldn't help but admire the sight of it, flushed and spent.
Turning towards him, you captured his lips in a sweet, lingering kiss, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. As you pulled back, you met his gaze, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.
Leaning in close, you whispered into his ear, your breath hot against his skin, "You know, Jeonghan, I still need to fuck you with your glasses on."
#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen smut#svt imagines#svt smut#jeonghan smut#jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan x y/n#jeonghan x you#jeonghan fluff#yoon jeonghan x reader#yoon jeonghan smut#yoon jeonghan fluff#yoon jeonghan fanfic#yoon jeonghan x you#svt reactions#svt#svt x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fanfic#seventeen angst#seventeen au
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Ellie fucking you in your brothers room after she had an argument with him
Toxic bbf!Ellie x in love reader
Warnings: fighting, angst, oral, blood, spit kink (once) and weed💗
“Broo cmon!” Ellie’s yell passes through your brothers room to your ears as you sit crossed legged atop your bed, barely reading up on your studies, your mind was other places. You missed Ellie.
It has been days since Ellie had her fingers buried inside your snug cunt, since you moaned her name and fucked yourself on her, since she called you her good girl as she sucked her fingers clean and walked out of your room as if nothing had happened. She then walked downstairs and greeted your parents so sweetly with the taste of you still on her tongue.
You tried to focus on the sounds from kehlani that filled your ears but her yells that started playfully at your brother were starting to sound a bit more serious, they argued often over stupid shit like video games and sports “you didn’t fucking win!” “I fucking did. What do you call this then?” You hear him chuckle as he probably shows her the scoreboard, then the house goes silent as Ellie knocks the wind from his lungs with a swift punch to the ribs “cunt!” she screams as he hits her back with a box to the face and you hear the sound of fists hitting flesh and hisses of pain for a solid ten minutes before you hear your brother yell at you “im gonna go get some air!” and slam the front door.
You grab a cloth and cautiously walk out in just your pink shorts, a white crop and your hair in a ponytail “Ellie?” You call softly as you follow the sounds of her groans into your brothers room, you creak the door open and your heart drops at the sight “fuuck baby” you coo, stepping forward with the rag in your hand and reaching up to wipe the bloody corner of her mouth “don’t call me that”
She hated when you showed her affection but when she saw your bottom lip tremble, your eyes tear up and your gaze fall she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around you “shh it’s okay mama” she cooed, rubbing circles onto your waist. You knew what she was going to ask for next. She always knew how to talk to you when she wanted something. She knew what you needed to hear.
The auburn headed woman huffs through her lips “I need you mama” and your eyes light up as you look at her from the spot on her chest where she rested your head “yeah?” She pauses “yeah” and separates herself from you.
Her eyes land on your lips then to where she taps on her belt buckle and you understand instantly what she wants from you as you drop to your knees softy. Even though you knew she saw you as nothing but a release you were on your knees in front of her and insatiable for the taste of her, clumsily unbuckling the leather of her belt, undoing her zipper and pulling the denim past her pale thighs, her boxers following suit soon after.
Your mouth falls open and your pupils turn heart shaped at the sight of her as you take her in, the auburn trail that led down her toned tummy to her bush, the glisten of her slick against her lips. Your gaze softening and your breaths picking up as she lifted one of her legs over your shoulder and gripped your ponytail “cmon mama, are you gonna make daddy feel good?” “yeah..” you trail off, never removing your eyes from her wet cunt as you feel yourself throb against your panties “gonna make you feel so good daddy”
You breathe in as your fingertips dance on the outside of her thighs, feeling her smooth flesh as your lips meet her cunt and you feel her hair tickle the tip of your nose as you kiss over her lips and whine at the feel of her on your pout as you slide your tongue through her dripping folds, a guttural moan leaving your throat as you palmed her ass and pressed her closer to your mouth while you tasted her beating clit, sucking on it as your eyes met hers.
Ellie nearly came at the sight of you, her clit between your lips and her slick painted across you face as your pretty doe eyes begged so desperately for approval from the girl that gripped your hair and rewarded you with a strained groan.
Your cunt was aching as she pulled on your hair, disconnecting you from her puffy clit and gripping your chin to open your mouth “tongue out” and your pink muscle is revealed to her instantly before she disrespectfully spits onto it and carelessly shoves your face back against her cunt as you instantly sucked and flicked at her clit.
Both of her hands gripped onto the back of your head as her hips bucked “oh fuck” her voice cracks “that’s it baby, just like that” and you nod, closing your eyes and whining “please” begging her to cum on your tongue, begging to be used like the slut you are, your cheeks hollowing and your finger teasing her entrance and slowly sliding inside her, making Ellie fold over as she clenched onto your finger, her belly spasming and hips bucking as she grinded onto your face, pulling your hair so hard that it hurt as she coated your finger and tongue in her pearlescent cum while she panted above you, trying to regain her breath.
A sigh left her and her puffy clit throbbed contently on your tastebuds as you rested your face against her and pulled your finger from inside her pulsating cunt “you taste so good daddy” you praise onto her pink flesh but doesn’t answer.
She lifts her shaky leg from your shoulder “you’re so good for me mama” and you try to hide the stupid smile that appears on your face as you look at her and dress her again as she runs her fingers through your hair while you close over her belt and kiss the buckle before raising to your feet and wrapping your arms over her shoulders, looking at her blushed face and leaning forward for a kiss, you’ve never kissed her before despite how intimate you both have been it still felt distant but this time felt different, it felt like she actually cared about you and you cared about her, you always have.
Your eyes flutter close as you cup her face, ready to finally feel her mouth against yours before you felt her leave your grip “go get cleaned up mama” she says before turning around and sitting in your brothers gaming chair, picking the controller up and turning on fifa again without giving you a second glance.
You felt your mouth turn into that horrible feeling of a frown and heard a sob leave your throat but Ellie acted like she couldn’t hear you, she wished she couldn’t hear you “close the door on your way out.” “okay” you whisper as you looked at the carpet and walked away.
You felt so used, a small tear rolling down your cheek as you left the room and closed the door behind you.
You walk into your bathroom and stop to look in your mirror, the sight of Ellie glistening on your lips and the tears rolling down from your bloodshot eyes turned your stomach as you tried to wipe them away while you stifled a sob as you heard the front door slam and your brother come up the stairs, walk pass the bathroom and into his bedroom.
He stood against the doorframe as he eyed Ellie “You gonna admit I won now?” He says to her, he seems more calm now and so does she, maybe fucking his little sister made her feel like she truely had a one up on him anyway. Sure he beat her score but she fucked his sisters face just moments ago so she didn’t give a fuck if he thought he won.
“Sure” she laughs as she tosses him the controller and sparks up a blunt, leaning back in his chair and manspreading as she took a draw and smirked to herself before she spoke “your sister is nice”
He stilled as he paused the game and stared her down “don’t you dare” he has always been protective of you and Ellie knew this “what?” She giggled “just don’t” “bro she’s your sister” she rolls her eyes “what do you take me for? I’d never”
@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @moonalumi @heygrimace @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries @aouiaa
#bbf!ellie#ellie williams#lesbian#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x latina!reader#ellie x dom reader#ellie x black!reader#ellie x you#ellie williams x sub reader#ellie willams x reader#Ellie williams angst#ellie angst
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(Here you are my gorgeous babes! 😘💕) Because Dealer!Rafe has enough money and then some more.💰😻💖
You knew Rafe sold drugs, the first interaction of you two was because you needed weed and your friend knew of him. You just didn’t know the depth of it and nor did Rafe want you too. He would always tell you that you were too damn pretty to worry about it, never needing to really reveal how dangerous of a man he was.
Banks runs were a fun day, riding in the passenger seat of his blacked out Range Rover like the princess you were. Fresh mani-pedi, lash extensions thick, pretty Louis bag sitting next to your hip. He would have one ringed hand on the steering wheel, other hand holding his phone as he talked to Barry about something you didn’t understand or would even question. You already had tried that before, and was reassured Rafe could defend himself.
“Stay here, pretty girl.” He would tell you, phone still pressed to his ear as he began to open the drivers side door. You turned your head as you applied the Dior lipgloss in the mirror, looking at him with a glossy pout.
“Can I go in this time?” You asked, long lashes fluttering at him.
Rafe shook his head, gripping your jaw firmly to make you look up at him. “Quit fuckin pouting, you’re too goddamn gorgeous for that shit.” He said, voice low. “Let daddy handle his business and maybe you’ll get something.”
You nodded, eyes looking up at him like the perfect little doll you were. He loved every second of spoiling you with the massive amounts of trap money he made. He pulled you in for a sloppy kiss before pulling back with a smirk on his lips. He never had committed to any girl or ever wanted to, but something about you was different and he would give you whatever the fuck your precious heart desired.
You waited as patiently as you could, eyes glancing up at the door ever so often until you saw your tall boyfriend walking out of the bank, a couple blue bags in hand. He was so effortlessly sexy wearing his white tee, a gold chain resting against his collarbone, and fresh buzzcut bringing how his handsome face. He got into the drivers seat, setting two out of the three blue bags in the center console next to a shiny gun. He closed it, before handing you the one bag he left out.
Unzipping it, you looked into the bag to see bundle of cash wrapped in rubber bands and colorful tabs. He chuckled as you looked up at him, eyes a little wide at the amount.
“Go fucking crazy mama, daddy’s got plenty more to go around.” Rafe laughed, looking over his shoulder as he backed out of the parking space. He was a fucking boss and his money and girl were the only two priorities he was worried about. “You are a pretty princess aren’t ya? Pretty princesses deserve expensive shit.” He said, hand coming over to possessively grab your thigh.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#dealer!rafe#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron blurb#rafe concepts#rafe obx#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey smut#obx#obx smut#outer banks
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the other woman
synopsis: y/n is the other woman who just wants to be loved
word count: 5.5k
contains: angst, not a super happy ending maybe it is depending how u see it idk, harry is kind of a dick, mentions of medication, mentions of mental health (anxiety, allusions to depression), harry definitely listens to the 1975 in this, smoking, friends with benefits situation, toxic relationship
. . .
"That's the ugliest piece of shit I have ever seen."
"Yeah,"
"I love it."
"You do?"
"I adore it."
"Good."
Harry sat against the headboard of her bed which took up the majority of his tiny bedroom in his even tinier apartment an hour train ride from central London. He was shirtless, his trousers were unbuttoned and his hair was a dishevelled mess. He had a cigarette between his teeth, Y/N hated the way the smoke made the room smell but she would never tell him that.
She sat up against the wall, her legs on top of his. She wore cotton underwear and his shirt, the buttons weren't done up, his gaze switching between his sketchbook and her breasts. Her eyes were fixated on the picture in the center of the white A3 pages.
She didn't know what it was but it was black and white and looked like skin. She wondered whether it was his skin but she wouldn't have called it ugly. She had seen every inch of his skin and the last forty-five minutes was proof of that. Her lips had pressed against the most intimate of places, she would know if it was his skin.
"What is it?" She frowned, tilting it to one side to see if a change in perspective would enhance its features.
"It's an areola," He responded, releasing a sigh, almost as if he was frustrated she didn't know he had taken a picture of a woman's breast.
"A tit?" Her heart began to race as she thought about him taking pictures of her without asking.
He chuckles and puts out his cigarette on her bedside table, leaning forward to throw it out of the window. "It sounds less artistic when you say it." He leans back again and reaches for a strand of her hair to play with. "But yes it is a tit."
'Who's is it?' She wanted to ask 'When did you take it?' 'Is she pretty?' 'Why not me?'
She could feel herself slipping away, wanting to cover herself up the more she questioned him in her own head. She glanced down at her chest briefly.
"It's not you." His words stung more than they should.
"I know that." She pushed the sketchbook away, not wanting to look at the picture of another woman's areolas. "What for?"
"We're doing the human form." He answers,
"Right."
"You're upset."
"I'm fine." She argued but the truth was she was upset and she hated the fact he knew that immediately.
He was good at hiding his emotions, he always had that sense of mystery to him, her not so much. She was sensitive and wore her heart on her sleeve. She was desperate to fall in love and when she did, she felt it to her very core, her chest would ache at the thought of being isolated from human contact. Sometimes she felt he took advantage of that but if she were to admit that, she would have to leave him and she couldn't do that.
She would rather die than be alone, especially if it meant being away from the one person to who she had developed an unhealthy attachment since they had met.
Harry's phone went off and he quickly reached across her to grab it from his side table. She felt like someone was pinching her all over as he bit back a grin at whoever had sent him a text. Suddenly being naked around him felt wrong so she quickly reached for her clothing that had been discarded on the bedroom floor.
"You're leaving?" He asks.
"Who is it?"
"It's nobody." She knew him long enough to know when he was lying.
"How long have you been seeing her?" Y/N wasn't going to cry, she wasn't, she really really wasn't.
Harry rolled his eyes, "You're being dramatic," He always tried to make it seem as if her feelings were too big for the space around them.
"You're a fucking jerk you know that?" She pulled her trousers up her legs and didn't even bother to button them up as she went in search for her shoes. "You show me someone else's tits as soon as we finish having sex? And then you get a text message and don't even tell me who it is?"
"I don't know why you're getting so upset we agreed long ago this was just a temporary thing."
"Oh I know you remind me that every time, I like to remind myself every day I'm just someone to pass the time." Y/N was used to being someone made to be used by someone else. She could be bleeding on the floor in the middle of the street and she wouldn't be surprised if someone took a plastic bottle and started filling it up with her blood in hopes it could save someone else before they even thought about rescuing her.
The problem was, she didn't even try to stop them. People entered her life and took pieces of her and carried them away with them, just to discard them later. Before she even thought about healing herself, someone else would come along and snatch another piece of her away.
That was the problem with people who were afraid of living with no love in their life, they were prepared to do anything for it. Y/N put too much faith in people despite the number of times she had been let down by the people close to her.
Harry was no different to that it seemed.
"What are you talking about? Hey," He grabs her wrist and pulls her into him, his eyes were sharp and for a brief moment, she thought she saw a flicker of emotion in his eye. Her heart pounded at the touch of his fingertips grazing her pulse. "What do you mean? You don't really believe that do you?"
"What does it matter? I know nothing about you Harry."
"You know more about me than anyone else does."
Sometimes it didn't feel like it.
Harry liked to make her feel special. He was good at it. He sent her texts during the day and brushed his hand against hers when they passed in the hallways. They'd come back to his place after a few drinks with friends in the evening, fuck, and be done with it. He'd send her away and act as if what they did didn't matter to him.
It mattered to her though. No one thinks that about a rebound or a person you had casual sex with but it always matters. She had never slept around until she had met him and now she was intoxicated by him because it mattered, right from the very beginning.
She closes her eyes and nods, "Please tell me who it was." She almost pleads with him.
"It's the girl in the picture, she's in my photography class." He admits.
"Do you like her?" Y/N almost whispers, she braces herself for the answer. She had been dreading the day he was planning to end this, she thought she would have more time.
Harry's head falls back like it kills him inside to give an honest answer to her question, "I really like her."
Y/N pushes him back and finally cries in front of him, "Go to Hell."
"Y/N-" He tries.
"No," She moves away from him quickly and reaches for the door, "And for what it's worth I lied, that is the ugliest piece of shit I've ever seen and I hate it. It's ugly and you are an awful photographer."
She was glad she got that out as she slammed the door behind her on the way out.
An hour later she called him.
"Harry, I'm sorry," She whimpers and sobs into the phone. It was an ugly, heart wrenching sob as she cried to him on the phone, "I didn't mean to upset you. I don't think it's ugly at all. I'm sorry,"
"Hey love, it's okay, it's okay," He comforted her.
"I didn't mean it Harry please forgive me I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. Please, please, please, please." She said the words over and over again. Pleading for something that seemed like more than forgiveness.
"Y/N I forgive you, I promise. Please go to sleep." He asks her, he was worried for her but she had done this often enough he knew it wasn't anything serious.
"Promise?" She cries, sniffling.
"I promise,"
"Okay, I'm sorry Harry."
"I forgive you."
The call ended and Y/N lay back staring at the ceiling, her eyes burning from all the crying she had done since she got home from being with Harry. She turned over and took half a miligram of xanax and a sleeping pill, despite her doctor telling her not to, and fell asleep.
"Who was that?" Harry turned to look at the girl in the photo who was now lying on his bed. Her hair was flipped to one side, exposing her entire neck and collarbones.
"Nobody." He forced a smile on his face and walked over to her with his camera, the sounds of Y/N's pleading echoing in his head for the remainder of the night.
--
The next day, Y/N walked into the art room for her first class of the day. She took out her portfolio and sat at her table where she had been working on her next project. It was a painting she had been working on for the past few days and she wasn't near to being finished just yet.
Her eyes were swollen and red from having spent the majority of yesterday crying her eyes out. She skipped her therapy appointment and turned her phone off as she thought about how lonely she really was and how she had no one but herself to blame for putting herself in that situation.
Harry was also in this class but he hadn't turned up yet. The thought of him made her stomach twist. Picturing his smile as he told her about the girl he had been seeing, 'I really like her.' echoed in her head and she wondered what it would be like for him to say that about her.
"How's it going?" Ollie, a good friend of Y/N's, sat down at the easel and stool next to her and placed his backpack on the ground at his feet. He pulled out his pens and watercolor paints as he set up his station to paint.
"Fine." She muttered, reaching for her headphones in her pocket and putting one in her left ear.
"That doesn't sound good." He chuckled, shaking his head.
"I'm fine Ollie." She repeated, a little more hostile this time.
"Did you go to Harry's place yesterday? I tried to call you but it went straight to answerphone."
"What makes you think that?" She looked at him, tilting her head in curiosity.
"You have this look in your eye." He seems as if he doesn't want to go on but she waits for him to carry on speaking, "I don't know how to describe it... It's like someone's put light in your chest just to then suck the life out of you." He motions towards her painting, "Kind of like that."
She looked at her painting and stared at it. A woman sat in an empty room, a stream of light hitting her face from the window. Outside were people celebrating amongst vines and trees and flowers. The painting was a mixture of beiges and browns and green but the woman's eyes were black and lifeless... they were the saddest pair of eyes she had ever seen.
--
"Fuck," Harry groaned and fell on top of her, sweat beading his forehead as he left her and fell to her side. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her mind was blank and her chest was heavy.
Harry reached across her for his phone, "Shit." He muttered, shifting to the end of the bed and jumping to his feet.
"What?" Y/N asked, sitting up, the blanket falling to her waist.
"I didn't know what time it was, I'm late for my class." He pulled up his trousers and ran his fingers through his hair as he went in search for a shirt to wear on his bedroom floor.
"Hmm." She sighed and fell back, reaching for one of his cigarettes and fiddling with it between her fingers.
"Are you going to smoke that?" He nodded towards the cigarette.
"Would you like me more if I did?" She replied.
He frowned, "I'd like you just the same."
She stared at him, he was so pretty. He had just gotten out of bed and his hair was a mess, his shirt had a stain on and his trousers were undone but he was so beautiful. She wondered if he ever thought that about her, whether she was beautiful despite the ugliness and mess.
Y/N reached for a lighter, lit the end of the cigarette, and inhaled the smoke.
She didn't seem to mind the way it made the room smell this time because it was a reminder that he had actually been there in her presence even just for a brief few minutes. She stared at the empty room where he once stood.
--
Y/N remembered when she first saw them together. It was a Friday night and all the art students spent Friday night at a bar in Camden Town. Y/N and Harry weren't in the same friendship circle but they had friends that knew friends and that was really how they met.
She sat with Ollie on a couch as everyone else played pool. She had taken three shots of vodka and was on her first drink of the night. The door opened and they both walked in hand in hand. The girl was stunning, her legs were long and thin, her hair was thick and wavy, her eyes were innocent and shone underneath the lights of the bar and her hand was intertwined with Harry's.
They caught eyes for a brief second before Harry turned away from her and went over to the bar to order them a drink. Ollie was talking about something she wasn't paying much attention to as her eyes stayed fixated on them.
She noticed the way his hand pressed against her back at the bottom of her spine and how he brushed her hair behind her ear as they leaned against the bar waiting for their drinks. How she smiled as he whispered something to her and bit her lip as he traced the back of her hand with the tip of his finger.
Y/N realised the Harry standing in front of her was someone she had never met before. It was strange how we never really know the people we meet as they choose to present themselves as someone else depending on who they are with. It's only when you're with your person that you can truly be your authentic self. She wondered which version of himself was real. She even wondered which version of herself was real, who she was with him or who she was without.
"I'm going to go over there." Y/N slurred, moving off the couch but falling back again as the room began to spin.
"Oh no you don't." Ollie pulled her back. "I'm not going to let you embarrass yourself like that."
"Why would I be embarrassed?" He looked at her like she was supposed to understand what he was hinting to.
"You'll forgive me in the morning." He said like he had done her some kind of favour.
She did.
--
"When are you going to take pictures of me for your class?" She wondered, playing with the ends of her hair on his bed as Harry fiddled with the strings of his guitar.
"You want me to do that?" He asked.
"Why not? I think it would be fun." She thought for a moment, "What would you choose to take pictures of?"
Harry pondered on the idea, thinking really hard to come up with an answer to her question. She bit her lip to hold back a smile. She liked the idea of him scanning his memories for parts of her body he had seen. It made her happy knowing that pieces of her were ingrained into his mind like lyrics to a song or the colours of the rainbow.
"Your eyes." He answered after a while.
She frowned, not expecting the answer, "What?"
"Your eyes." He repeated.
"That's it?" Her eyes were the only part of her he thought worth photographing?
"Yeah."
"That's boring." She muttered, falling back against the mattress.
"What makes you say that?"
"You took a picture of that girls boob and you've probably taken a lot more pictures since you like her so much." He cringed and set his guitar down to look at her properly. Harry knew he had to be careful with what he was saying, he could tell by the tone of her voice she was getting upset.
"Those were the only pictures I took." He argued, "And besides, I like your eyes."
"You never look into them." She retorts.
"Of course I do."
"You don't."
A beat of silence rested between them until Harry spoke again, "Maybe when you're not looking."
"Why would you look at my eyes when I'm not looking?" She wasn't understanding anything he was saying.
"Because I love watching you watch the world." He replied. "If I don't know how I feel about something I look at your eyes and everything makes sense. Sometimes it feels as though I'm understanding the world through you."
Her face softened, her heart settled in her chest. She felt warmth spread through her like she had just received a warm hug. The corners of her lips tugged upwards and she crawled over to kiss his cheek. "That was possibly the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." She confessed, her heart expanding.
"Then you need to be surrounded by better people." He reached for his guitar. "Come sit here." He patted his thigh and she rolled off the bed to sit exactly where he asked.
He began to play a song on his guitar, gently singing the lyrics in a low voice. She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck.
It was one of those moments she wanted to freeze and stay in forever. Nothing else existed outside of this bubble. Her heart was happy.
--
Ollie's birthday was January 23rd and he was having a house party at his flat.
"How many people are coming?" Y/N asked as she applied mascara in front of his bathroom mirror. She was crouched down inside the sink so she could get as close as possible to the mirror.
"I don't know, I invited about twenty and said they could spread the word to whoever was available." OIlie applied aftershave as he spoke.
"So everyone?"
"Possibly."
Y/N was excited to see Harry. Although they didn't speak much outside of the confinements of his bedroom, she was still looking forward to being in his presence. Ever since their intimate moment, they shared a few days ago, she had been longing for him. Her heart sighed in bliss at the thought of being near him again.
She wanted to wear something extra special that she thought he would like. Her hair was curled, which she never normally did, she wore black, leather trousers and a black corset to go with it and black heels to make her slightly taller than she really was. She accessorised with gold jewellery and had done her makeup in a much more simple manner.
"You look like that girl." Ollie spoke as soon as she walked into his kitchen.
"What girl?" She blushed.
"The one Harry was with at the bar the other night. I mean, the outfit is hot but you never wear your makeup and hair like that."
"Geez would it kill you to just say I look 'good'?" She mumbled, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. She never normally wore her hair down as it irritated her.
Ollie's face softened, she hated the sympathy on his face, "You look fucking hot." He said, pulling her in for a hug, "Don't let anyone change that." He whispered.
People began to arrive around 10pm. Ollie's apartment filled up rather quickly and Y/N was already on her third drink of the night. She was stood talking to a few of her friends from one of her textile classes until her eyes caught sight of the curly-headed boy she had been waiting for.
She smiled, excusing herself from the conversation and shifting through the crowd to get to him. "Harry hey," She beamed but then immediately felt her happiness slip from her.
"Hey Y/N," His eyes were wide at the sight of her, he was so used to seeing her in her natural form.
Y/N didn't reply as her focus was fixated on the girl talking to some other people. The girl he had bought with her. The girl in the photo. "Are you okay?" Harry asked when she didn't say anything.
"I'm fine." She forced a smile on her face.
"We're not staying long. I just thought I'd stop by to see Ollie." Her heart deflated at the use of 'we', they were a 'we' now.
"Right, I'm sure he'll appreciate it." She nodded, reaching for another drink.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He checked with her.
"I'm fine. I just need to use the bathroom." Y/N pushed past him and made her way to Ollie's bathroom which was surprisingly empty.
"Are you okay?" Someone asked her from behind as she was about to step into the bathroom.
She turned around and came face to face with the girl from the photo. She looked even more beautiful up close if that were even possible.
"I'm fine." Y/N muttered, it seemed as though that was the only response she was giving anyone nowadays.
"Harry sent me to come and see if you were okay." She said, even her voice was soft and gentle, "He was worried about you."
Y/N scoffed, "What he couldn't come find me himself?"
"He was trying to find Ollie I think-" The girl sighed, "If you're okay, I'll go back and tell him."
"Before you go...Can I ask you something?" Y/N could hear the voice in her head screaming at her not to say anything but she had to know, she needed to know.
"Go ahead." The girl seemed irritated by Y/N, like she was wasting her time.
"Do you know who I am?" Y/N could feel her eyes burn as she asked the question.
The girl from the photo frowned, confused by her question, "What?"
"Do you know who I am?" Y/N repeated but this time more sternly.
The girl from the photo looked at her, really looked at her, narrowing her eyes as if to get a better look. "I have no idea."
Y/N's insides felt as though they were bleeding. It was almost like Harry was the only one who was keeping her stitched together but now everything inside of her had come loose from that one reply.
The girl from the photo hesitated before saying, "I'll go and tell my boyfriend you're okay."
Y/N looked at her as she walked away, completely crushed. She walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her, falling onto her knees and sobbing into her hands.
She hadn't realised how much power he had over her until this moment. How much she relied on him and how she couldn't picture her life without him. She trusted him too easily and that was nobody's fault but her own.
Her breathing began to pick up and she felt a strange sensation like pins and needles trickle along her skin. She pulled off her trousers and her corset until she was in nothing but her bra and underwear. She crawled into the bathtub and turned on the shower so cold water could reach her skin, all whilst hyperventilating and crying her eyes out.
This was unlike any pain she had ever felt. She wasn't sure why it had hurt so much but maybe it was because another person had used her, maybe this time it was because she gave every inch of herself to him and she had nothing but skin and bones left.
"Y/N are you in there?" His voice was muffled from behind the door.
"G-Go away." She whispered, rocking backward and forwards with her head tucked into her knees and cold water wetting her skin.
"I'm worried about you, love." His voice sounded so sad.
"Go away." She carried on chanting like this was a nightmare she wanted to wake up from.
She felt soft hands touching her shoulders and immediately looked up into green, sad eyes. For once Harry was easy to read as his eyes showed nothing but remorse.
He reached past her and turned the shower off, she was shivering and he reached for a towel to wrap around her shoulders in hopes it would provide some warmth.
They said nothing, Y/N didn't get out of the bath as it helped in providing a separation between them. "Why don't you love me like I love you?" She whispered. Her eyes looking into his, they were red and her face was stained with tears.
There was no point in denying things anymore, he was one of the only people who knew she was too clever for that, "I don't know," His head fell forward, he felt defeated.
"Why did you put me here?" She cried, "Why did you put me here if you were just going to leave me?"
"I-I thought you understood what this was. I thought-" He lied.
Harry knew Y/N better than anyone in her life. He knew better than to hurt her like this.
"Why does everyone leave me?" She whimpered, "Why can't I be loved?"
"Y/N-"
"Please tell me you love me. Please, please, please," She was begging him, crying into his shoulder.
"I-I can't Y/N." Never had her name sounded so disgusting coming from his lips.
"I don't know what to do anymore Harry. I-I would rather die than be alone," She sobbed.
"Y/N you're never alone."
"You're ending this." She cried, "I'm alone."
He couldn't stand having this conversation and not being able to hold her. He stepped into the bathtub fully clothed and sat in front of her, reaching for her hand and holding it gently in his. The feeling of his skin seemed to ease some of the pain she had been feeling, but the loneliness still echoed throughout her.
"I don't know why I can't love you, Y/N, but it doesn't mean I don't feel anything about you. You have become my best friend—"
"I don't want to be your best friend. No, no," she shook her head. "You've killed me once by admitting you don't love me. Please don't send me to Hell by calling me your friend. Do you know how painful that is? I just want to be loved by you. Is that too much to ask? I have given everything, I have given everything to you. I rooted for you in every way possible. I have killed myself trying to get you to love me, and I don't think I even know who I am anymore because of it."
Harry didn't know what to say. He was selfish and a coward and undeserving of her love, and he wished she could see that.
"Y/N—"
"Please just leave."
His eyes watered at the thought of going about his life without her. He could feel the air around them grow thick, his chest rising and falling as he tried to breathe in. He felt like he was drowning at the thought of her leaving his life. Despite not loving her in the way she desired, he realized he would also be alone without her.
Maybe that was it.
All along, they had just been two people dealing with loneliness and coping with it differently. One used the other to fill the gaps in the spaces where they felt most alone, and the other fell hopelessly in love in hopes it would change them. That was the true nature of it, and even if they were meant to be together at some point, now was not the time.
"Listen to me," Harry whispered, collecting her hands and holding them to his chest. "I'm going to leave."
She choked on a sob.
"I don't want to do that." She shook her head. "I just want to be with you." The thought of the loneliness seeped into her pores, and she didn't think it would be possible for her to stay afloat as she drowned in it.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said softly, tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you. I-I don't know what I'm doing."
She was taken aback by his tears and was unsure of what to do. It was the first time she had seen him cry, the first time she realized he was equally as afraid as she was. She leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug, allowing him to cry into her shoulder.
This was the end.
"I love you, Harry. I really do," she whispered into his ear.
He couldn't reply, so he just sobbed even harder.
--
The days hadn't changed so much when Harry stepped out of Y/N's life.
They didn't talk much during the day when they were friends so Y/N went about carrying on her classes and speaking to Ollie who she appreciated more than ever as he comforted her when she was feeling at her worst. It was Ollie who made the days feel... a little less lonely.
She missed his touches and texting him on her phone but she tried to come up with ways to cope with that by watching youtube videos or drawing so she wasn't tempted to unblock him and forgive him again.
The nights were the hardest. Y/N hadn't realised that the only reason she'd been sleeping was because of Harry. She had tried to not take sleeping pills to help her get to sleep but sometimes she'd spend the entire night just painting in hopes it would made her tired.
Since they had some of the same friends now, Y/N knew of Harry's ventures through word of mouth. He had broke things off with the girl from the photo the day after Ollie's birthday party. Turns out they weren't really in an established relationship and the girl did know who Y/N was because Harry never stopped talking about Y/N when they were together.
That made her smile.
He was an assistant to a wedding photographer on the weekends so that he could save up some money for his own studio. She was happy to hear he was actually making the most of his talent instead of wasting it like she had considered doing multiple times.
Other than that, the days went by rather slowly and nothing out of the ordinary happened. She had been on dates here and there and was in her first real relationship in her third year of University but that only lasted a few months. Turns out he was cheating on her the entire time they were together which felt like one step forwards and two steps back.
Y/N moved into an apartment in central London after she graduated and did some freelancing as an illustrator whilst working weekends at a hotel and the evenings at a bar in Soho.
Her life was mundane but she was okay with that. She had spent so much time focusing on others that she forgot to focus on herself. She had started going to therapy, the gym, and even became vegetarian for a little while. She was no longer taking Xanax as often as she used to and spent less time thinking about Harry.
She wondered what he was up to from time to time but in the end, she just hoped he wasn't alone.
#harry styles fic rec#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagines#harry styles imagine#fic rec#harry edward styles#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#one direction#writing#fanfiction#fanfic rec#angst#harry styles angst#harry styles one shot
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Skims ~ JB5
Parrings ~ Jude Bellingham x reader
Summary ~ watching Jude doing the skims shoot…made you crazy you needed him and couldn’t wait!
Warnings ~ p in v(unprotected), creampie(2), a tad bit rough whoopsies, boob play, manhandled😵💫, jealousy, praise, teasing, slight pussy slapping, ab licking🤭.
A/N ~gave me a little ick but not enough to not write a fic😵💫
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Jude told you he got invited to do a skims shoot, you immediately said you were going with him. He knew you were jealous, just a little, that other women would see him in his underwear.
The morning before you both left for the shoot. Wellll let’s just say you begged Jude to put a load in you…if you know you know.
Sitting in a chair watching the shoot. Jude walking out in only a pair of the grey pair of skim boxers. You could already feel yourself wetting your panties.
Once he got some pictures with the grey boxers, you snuck into his changing room. Waiting for him knowing he’s still got to do the white pair.
Jude walks in to change and is a little scared when he saw you. “Baby what you doing in here.” He asked but is caught off when you walk up to him and kiss his neck and palm him through the underwear. “Need you Jude, please, you look so big in these.” You said desperate. “Baby i already gave you some this morning.” He whispered trying to make sure nobody hears. “Need more, hate when other people see you like this, it’s mine!” You spoke getting a little possessive.
You kneel in front of him and lick his “sweaty” abs, a part of him you were absolutely obsessed with. You run you hands over his chest and abs, kissing all over them.
Before you knew it your pants were pulled to you knees and panties to the side. Jude’s skims off and he’s alined with your entrance. “Such a needy girl.” He hummed in your ear as you leaned against the wall with him behind you. “Need it.” You whimper. “I’ll give you it…just be quite can’t let everyone know how good I make you feel.” He said teasing your entrance, rubbing his cock back and forth slapping it in your clit before pushing in.
You cover your mouth and let out a moan into it. “Need me to fuck the jealousy and possessiveness out of you?” He said slowly pickup up his speed. You nod you head as your eyes roll back a little. He feels so deep inside you.
“Gonna cum inside you, want my cum to leak down your thigh, want everyone to know I’m yours?” He teased you with a smirk. “Please Jude.” You moan softly as your hands are on the wall desperate to grip on something. He pulls out of your and turns you around picking you up, legs immediately going around his waist as he slips back in and uses the wall to help support you.
He fuck up into you now, your hands scratching his shoulder and upper back. “Such a good girl.” He smirks as he starts kissing your neck. Hands slipping under your shirt to squeeze your boobs. “J-Jude!” You moan into his shoulder to muffle it. “Gonna cum for me baby?” He whispered in your ear. “Y-yes!” You cry clutching onto him.
He stops his thrust and goes to the couch sitting down and immediately thrusting up into you at a merciless pace. “C-cumming Jude.” You moan into his neck. “Cum for me I’m right behind you.” He said trying his best to keep his speed up.
You cums round his cock and soon after feel his final thrust up into you. Shoot his load into you filling you up as you pleased. “All my baby need was to be refilled huh?” He teased as he sat there. “Want people to see my cum drop out of you…so they know I’m yours?” He asked kissing your neck softly. “Mhm.” You mumble into his neck, fucked out.
“Last part of the shoot baby…then I’m all yours.” He said as he pulls on the white pair of skims. He had helped you get dressed again also. You walk out a little after him, his cum soaking your panties.
At least this time it’s real sweat and not fake for the shoot….
#jude bellingham#judes-hoe😚#jude bellingham drabble#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham imagine
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i think…i think about art fucking me…but then patrick fucking art…sandwhich style…yk?
get out of my head anon.
it would be art’s idea, 100%. he’d be fucking you so stupid while patrick had you suck on his cock, getting it nice and messy and wet for him. the thought came to art as he watched patrick tap his cock against your pouted lips, mesmerized by the glossy coat of saliva dripping from the entire length.
“pat—pat,” art slowed down the movements of his cock into you, completely ignoring the whine and squirming of your hips and the begs to ‘keep going!. “what’s up, man?” patrick says, a little breathless but flushed in the cheeks, lips, and chest, turning him godlike in any mortal’s eyes.
“i want you to fuck me.” the blonde was blunt, unwavering as he stared stone into his best friends eyes. patrick doesn’t trust his own words after feeling his cock twitch against your face at the ask, so instead he just nods. slowly. “like—like at the same time?” he clarifies, hand moving down to massage at the fat of your tits, less in hopes to please you and more trying to keep himself grounded. “mhm.” art nods once, eyes fiery as though they were offering a challenge.
patrick cursed at his friend with a smile. his attention is drawn down on you as he placed a little peck to your lips, a promise to return, all before his weight is lost at the head of the bed. very soon, however, you feel it redistributed behind art, gentle kisses pressed onto his shoulder blade as patrick pumped two saliva-lubed fingers into his friends taut asshole.
gently, he eased the blond’s hips back into yours and encouraged the pistoning of his mean cock into your pussy through the push of his digits in and out of art’s ass. “so pretty,” patrick cooed at both of you into his best friend’s ear, forcing him to whine and nod as his eyes, glued onto the mesmerizing giggle of your tits through every pump, fluttered shut in pleasure. he found himself very close very quickly, warning patrick through breathy huffs and curses. “fuck, pat, i’m gonna—“ his sentence trailed off as all he could do was whine when patrick’s fingers found themselves missing from his hole, which now pulsed and breathed with want.
“i’ll take care of you, baby, don’t you worry. hey, dont stop fucking her, understand?” patrick placed a biting kiss onto the lobe of art’s ear which burnt bright red as he kept fucking into you with a certain and desperate rigor and adoration. it seemed art’s entire world flipped upside down as he let out the sluttiest moan probably ever conceived at the delicious stretch of patrick’s envy-inducing cock into his asshole. “god! please, fuck, i need it, need it so bad,” art begged as he pulled nearly all the way out of you and backwards onto patrick’s dick.
“i said, don’t.” thrust. “stop.” thrust. “fucking her.” thrust. patrick’s needy, incessant, sloppy, pounding into his best friend had the blond falling on top of you, sucking on your tits as the unforgiving ramming of his brunette’s hips into his did all the work for him. “that’s so good,” art whimpers at both you and patrick, practically drooling all over your chest.
cumming came fast for all three of you. you were first, and also priority for both the men. as art nipped at the fat of your areola, patrick reached around art’s body to make a mess of the arousal drowning your cunt. your orgasm came over you in twitches and tears, biting down on art’s shoulder—unintentionally triggering his own climax.
“gonna cum!” art hardly warned through the spurting of white ribbons painting your insides, washing over his body in shakes and tremors. “fuck, you’re so tight,” patrick’s voice is up nearly 2 octaves, his clearest sign of being close to his peak, and art swears he can feel his cock twitch inside of him.
“please cum, pat. for me.” your eyes were round and pleading, his fucking kryptonite, and you knew it—so it was no surprise that with a whine and a curse, patrick is pulling out and splurging his load onto art’s back.
falling down next to you and easing you in between the both of them, art and patrick don’t bother cleaning up as they let their exhaustion win and pull them under, responsibility a mere, distant, irrelevant, obligation.
#i hate how much i need them#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 !#angelnon 🤍#kai's got mail <3📑#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson x patrick zweig#art donaldson x you#patrick zweig#patrick zweig smut#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig imagine#artsy nd tricky🎾#kaia writes patrick#kaia writes art
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xiv. the aftermath - t.w.
pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff
word count: 3.3k
warnings: ANGST, lots of angst, mentions of sexual relationships, slight mentions of misogyny, cursing, slut-shaming, mentions of divorce, toto is lowkey yearning through this messiness, yadayadayada
prev. | next.
“do you have any idea how serious this is?”
you huff, rolling your eyes slightly, “i am quite aware.”
“you are actively engaging in a sexual relationship with the team principal of another–”
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“james,” a voice interjects, “do not make assumptions. we are not quite aware of the details or nature of their relationship.”
james scoffs, folding his arms across his chest, “i think i have a pretty good idea of the nature of their relationship. she fucking kissed him. in front of the entire world, nonetheless. it was not just a small peck either it–”
“james,” the voice’s tone shifts, hardened with a sternness, “she’s a twenty-two year old woman. she can speak for herself. i am aware that you are very passionate about the current reputation of the team, but i think we need to let her speak for herself, hmm? would you like to make a comment regarding the incident in monaco?”
your gaze falls on sir patrick head, co-founder of williams racing. surrounding you were members of the board, along with members of the management committee. all around, the paper white walls of the board room were blank, reminiscent of an interrogation room. the lack of notebooks, tablets, and laptops on the table were no help either, as you felt the entire focus of the room was lasered in on you. to your left was james, alex on your right.
marcus prosser, one of the heads of commercial and marketing sat across from you, his phone lying on the table, recording every single second of the ongoing conversation. you swallow the lump in your throat, shifting uneasily in your chair.
“do you want me to start from the beginning again or?”
“if you would like,” patrick shrugs, “you are not inclined to share every detail regarding your relationship with the mercedes team principal. we would like to know the gist of it, that’s all. is it strictly personal? borderline business? has he spoken of any future contract deals? that sort of thing.”
“well,” there was no reason to lie anymore, “after the first grand prix, in bahrain, he approached me. that was the beginning of our personal relationship.”
“did he mention any sort of thing about a future contract with mercedes?” marcus inquires, jotting down a few notes, “look, to put it plainly, the fia wants to ensure that your contract was not breached. that is the main thing that everyone is buzzing about. if he approached you with a contract deal and then began a personal relationship with you, then that’s textbook manipulation. mostly due to the fact that he was using the deal as leverage to kindle that relationship. and he deserves to be punished for that.”
“but what about me?” you raise a brow, “i consensually agreed to the personal relationship. i wanted–”
“you have to remember that you are thirty years younger than this man,” marcus’ voice is quiet, “he took advantage of you. he knew your age, and he began a relationship with you.”
“what happened to me being an adult?” you counter, “i am so sick of this bullshit that everyone is spreading around. i wanted a relationship with him. it wasn’t like he cornered me and demanded that we start seeing one another. it developed over time–”
“developed over time?” patrick’s brow furrow, “elaborate on that.”
“oh my god. i feel like we’ve been over this about a million times,” you exhale, “the relationship started in bahrain after the grand prix. we have been seeing one another in private since that night. i made things public in monaco. are we forgetting that here? that i was the person who initiated that kiss?”
“so in summary,” marcus clears his throat, his eyes honed in over the plethora of notes before him, “you placed eighth in bahrain. toto wolff approached you later that evening, stating that he wanted a personal relationship with you. in these last few weeks, the two of you have been engaged in a romantic relationship. is that correct?”
“let’s not forget that in that time, he did approach me inquiring about her contract,” james interrupts, “that was around jeddah or miami, i don’t really recall the details.”
“while i appreciate the statement,” marcus’ eyes narrow, glaring over at the team principal, “i was speaking to your driver.”
sucking in a breath, you nod, “everything we have discussed thus far has been answered to the best of my ability.”
“i see no further need for questioning,” marcus leans forward, pressing the stop icon on his screen, “if no parts of her contract have been breached, then i see no issue with their relationship. additionally, i trust that she has a good head on her shoulders and would not betray the team in any fashion. however, if there are future contract talks or negotiations, then you must facilitate a meeting with not only us and mercedes, but with the fia. they will want to ensure that you are not treated differently than any of the drivers or given perks that most drivers are not.”
“that’s it?” james coughs, “what about—“
“you can speak with her on your own accord,” patrick leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head, “you have to remember james, she has won us a significant number of grand prixes. she is currently in first place for the title. and with her current trajectory, i do envision her standing on that podium, showered in champagne.”
“you see,” marcus taps his pen against the table, “if anyone’s reputation is suffering, it’s toto’s. he is the one who has a family. he is the one with an established career at mercedes. our american girl here, sponsors, investors, and the general public can forgive and forget. especially when there are world titles at stake.”
“but what about our team?” james retaliates, his voice growing louder with each and every word, “what about our reputation?”
“to be quite honest,” james, the other marketing head chips in, “we haven’t seen much talk regarding our reputation. most of the focus is on toto, like marcus said. additionally, imagine the publicity that are going to come out of this. drive to survive has already sent usa number of inquiries regarding an episode about our american girl. the fans are raving. in their words, they’re excited for the drama that will unfold in the coming season.”
“so to clarify,” you pipe up, “i’m not in trouble?”
“no, you’re not in any sort of trouble,” patrick’s voice was gentle as he spoke, “this is something that has never happened before in the history of formula one. there is sort of a grey area. at least, right now. per your contract, we cannot dictate who you can or cannot date. however, if you end up deciding that you would like to join toto at mercedes, please be as transparent with us as possible. additionally, be forewarned that the fia may not allow it due to conflict of interest.”
“right,” you nod, fiddling with your thumbs, “i thought i was going to lose my seat, if we’re being honest.”
“as long as you do not leak confidential team information with mr. wolff, then i do not see an issue with it,” patrick affirms, “we can’t afford to lose you. you’re our little shining star.”
at his tenderness in his words, tears brim your eyelids, threatening to spill over. your lower lip trembles, alex wrapping an arm around your shoulders as your voice shakes, “i-i can’t th-thank you guys enough. for everything. thank you for sticking by my side as we figure this mess out.”
“it’s not the worst we’ve seen,” a chuckle bubbles up in patrick’s throat, “sure, we may appear to have a no-nonsense policy, but we consider ourselves to be pretty flexible. also, this isn’t a mess. honey, it’s your personal life. of course we’re going to make sure that your well-being is prioritized. if you want to pursue a relationship with this man, we just want you to be happy.”
“besides,” marcus shoots you a wink, “it’s our job to keep the press at bay. if you would like, we can release a statement that we have thoroughly investigated the matter and will not make any further comments. that will keep the media satisfied until mercedes releases their own statement.”
“that would be nice,” you sniffle, wiping away a tear, “again, thank you so much. you guys have no idea how much this means to me.”
“we’re not going to force you to end things with someone just because you’re on different teams,” patrick rises to his feet, crossing over to you. patting your shoulder, he continues, the corners of lips curled into a sympathetic smile.
“besides, susie wolff worked with us for quite some time. although the circumstances are a little bit different this time around, this wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had a williams driver and a mercedes team principal involved in a romantic relationship.”
in the wake of monaco, it almost felt as if your little secret was completely exposed, for the entire world to pick apart and ridicule.
well, it was your fault, after all.
to make things worse, you could no longer seek out your escape, as he was thirty-nine miles away.
in the moments following the kiss, the wave of realization came crashing over the two of you, the cameras flashing, gasps arising from the crowd. you were whisked away by james, the image of toto almost disappearing as more and more journalists swarmed him, their phones and mics poised, eager for any sort of information regarding what just occurred.
it didn’t take long for the headlines to be blasted all across social media, tabloids, and any sort of press associated with the world of formula one.
toto wolff, team principal of mercedes-amg petronas, was deeply involved in an affair with the twenty-two year old williams driver.
to put it lightly, you spent the following hours sobbing in your motorhome, the guilt filling you to the brim, pouring out as the tears splattered all over your pillow.
alex was the first one to offer solace, reaching out hours after the monaco grand prix.
when you didn’t answer the phone after about sixty-seven calls, he showed up, flowers and snacks in hand, a mix of emotions painted across his features.
yet, the second he noticed the tears, he set the items down at the door, scooping you up in his arms, rubbing your back as the sobs rang out, filling the space with your wails.
“are you okay?”
“d-does it look i’m okay?”
“can i come in?”
“if you even want to talk to me right now. the entire world hates me.”
“even if the world hates you, i love you. let me in.”
so, you allowed him in, your walls crumbling completely as you started from the very beginning, recalling every possible detail. you began with bahrain, filling in the spaces through monaco, including the spat with daniel, as well as your time in brackley. at first, alex was stone-faced, taking it all in. however, once you were finished, wiping away your tears once again, he leaned over the couch, offering you a tissue.
“you’ve been wiping away your own tears the last few hours. let someone else do it for you this time.”
the only aspect you did not include was the offer to sign with mercedes. as much as you wanted to tell someone, to get that crushing weight off your chest, you knew you couldn’t. that was far too risky. well, not like there were many risks left. your biggest secret had been spilled to the entire world, no thanks to you.
so much for keeping things between the two of you.
as much as you wanted to believe that the other drivers despised you after monaco, that was far from the truth.
lando, charles, lewis, george, and oscar had reached out, mostly voicing their support. lando was shocked, but he was more concerned about your well-being. same with oscar and charles.
lewis and george on the other hand, had somehow gotten ahold of your number, leaving a series of voicemails.
hey, hey, hey. it’s lewis. george and i want to come over and talk for a little bit, if that’s okay? i promise we just want to comfort you. toto is not doing too well either. if you want, we can sneak him over here somehow. it may be kind of hard, but we’ll try our best to make it happen.
hello, it’s george. we know that you’re really in the chatting mood right now, but we want to come over and bring toto. we know you need him. we would just make sure that no one comes by or bothers the two of you. just let us know what’s the best option. i hope you’re okay.
however, you never called the british drivers back.
it wasn’t like you didn’t want them to bring toto or comfort you, it was just the matter at hand.
they didn’t deserve to be whisked into this.
and fuck, they sure as hell did not deserve any negative press if they were spotted around your motorhome or speaking with you.
sure, you were really fucking scared of was what to follow in terms of your future career following the kiss of monaco, but you were more apprehensive of the press. the fia was vicious at times, but nowhere near as ruthless as the headlines, articles, and videos the press created. if the fia was a storm, the press was a hurricane.
and sure enough, it seemed as if the media was never going to let this go. even though the entire grid was prepping for canada, here the press was, pestering you for comments or tidbits on your little “affair” with the team principal. they nearly salivated over it, the slightest morsel or crumb of information dramatized into a lengthy article or used for clickbait, generating thousands upon thousands of views.
you were called a slut. you were called a whore. you were referred to as a homewrecker. it was stated over and over again that you should never set foot in a garage or sit behind the wheel of a car ever again.
this is why women should not be in formula one. they fuck everyone and everything in sight. even married men.
god, what a fucking slimy slut. fucking a married man? breaking up a family? the fia should ban her from competing for the foreseeable future.
yet, the general public was unaware of one crucial piece of information.
toto wolff was a single man.
a very single man.
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“i cannot believe you. i cannot fucking believe you.”
toto wolff sat in his office chair as a figure paced back and forth, shaking her head, her tone laced with a venomous barb.
before him stood susie wolff, her neatly cut hair bobbing as she moved, “toto, you have fucked up before, and i have happily stood behind you, supporting you with everything i have. but this? oh my god. oh my fucking god. this is absolutely atrocious.”
yet, the team principal’s mind was focused on other matters.
his mind wandered, relishing the way your plush lips felt in that moment in monaco. the way your arms were around his neck, pulling him closer and closer to you as your mouths molded together, his tongue slipping in as your head rolled back, granting him more access. the way your beautiful lashes fluttered. the way you marched up to him, determination deeply embedded across your gorgeous face. the way the entire world around slowed, the team principal completely lost in you as the cameras recorded, taking in every second of the kiss.
fuck, he missed you.
too much.
so much that he took every blow from susie’s frustration with ease, still as a statue as she continued on, the words drowning in his ears.
“are you even fucking listening to me right now?” the question snaps him out of his trance, the team principal blinking.
“sure.”
“what the fuck is wrong with you?” she growls, pointing a finger at him, “do you have any idea how much this has diminished our reputation? our marriage?”
“what marriage? we’ve been divorced for some time, susie.”
“the marriage we’ve been putting on for the cameras!” the blonde exhales, bringing a hand to her temple, “we’re supposed to be happily married, toto. or was that something that slipped your mind as you were fucking that little american driver? in our home, nonetheless.”
at the sheer spite in her tone, the team principal’s jaw clenches, “you have no idea what you’re talking–”
“i know you toto,” fingers massage her temple, “it’s pretty obvious that you’re screwing her. if you weren’t, you would have dropped her like a fucking hat the moment she pulled that little stunt in monaco.”
since monaco, the days blurred together.
how was he supposed to rebuild his broken reputation, his shattered world when you were thirty-nine miles away?
well, not like there was much to repair.
after the incident, the team principal was thoroughly investigated by mercedes, as well as the fia. he answered every single one of their questions with his full capabilities, ensuring to include every detail that would grant him some grace. well, there were a few things he left out.
one, your visit to brackley.
two, the numerous conversations involving his offer to sign you with mercedes.
three, the fact that you were joining him at mercedes for the 2025 season, driving alongside george russell.
there were no recorded conversations, messages, or evidence proving that he was planning to sign you. so, there were no repercussions. the only incident found was the time he spoke with james, inquiring about the details of your current contract.
sure, toto was a little careless when it came to keeping things private.
but he was not an idiot.
he was not going to lose his job over this, that was for sure. if the fia was to discover about his offer to make you a world champion at mercedes, he would be terminated immediately. so, that part was to remain in the dark.
at least, for the time being.
after speaking with the board members of williams racing, mercedes made it very clear that if there were to be talks of signing the american driver, or even hints of wanting her to join the team, then it needed to be officiated among both teams, in a space where the conversation could be recorded. there were to be no special perks, exceptions, or favoritism towards the driver. each and every aspect of a future contract would be detailed in a manner to ensure fairness and equality.
additionally, since this was one of the first few times that a team principal was involved in a romantic relationship with a driver, there were not a lot of rules or regulations regarding the subject. the fia made it clear that they truly had no direction or idea of how to go about the matter. and since it was not a prominent issue in the world of racing, they were going to leave it up to the teams to deal with the matter.
thank god for the gray areas.
yet, there were repercussions. consequences of his actions.
and one of those repercussions was standing before him, her eyes narrowed, her brows knit together, foot tapping against the floor.
“toto, just tell me this one thing.”
“and that is?” toto presses, leaning back in his chair.
susie inhales a sharp breath, her fiery gaze breaking away from the team principal as she stares at the floor, eyes glossy from the promise of tears.
“are you in love with her?”
taglist: @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @martwll @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010 @sinners-98-world @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic @statuewoman @strangegirl974 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @m-1234 @whoisss @msbyjackal @annaaepf1 @paigelouise @bborra @bblouifford @upsteadsstuff @omgsuperstarg @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower
as always, if i forgot to include you, or if you would like to be added, please let me know! i'll try to get you added asap! thank you all for the continuous support! i love y'all so much! <3
#toto wolff#f1#formula 1#formula one#toto wolff x reader#toto wolff x you#toto wolff x y/n#alkaline: female driver! x toto wolff#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#formula one x y/n#f1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction#alex albon#george russell#lewis hamilton#williams racing#mercedes amg petronas
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Tommy can remember the day he knew he was going to kill Vincent Gerrard. Or, not kill exactly, but do some serious, irreparable damage to him.
He'd kind of figured this day would come, if the way he felt like ripping the old man's mustache right off his face whenever Buck came home upset was anything to go by. He just didn't think it would happen quite so soon. He's held Buck plenty of times after rough shifts, where Gerrard would make him man behind for no other reason than "I want this place clean and perfectly organized. That's what you people do, isn't it?". He's heard enough stories from Eddie, and Hen, and Chim, about the abuse they were all getting but how most of Gerrard's hellfire seemed directed towards Buck.
But nothing could prepare him for the fury he felt when that day arrived.
He'd gotten a text from Eddie, a short and simple "he needs you", and he'd been in his car in a flash. The whole drive he'd been worrying, not sure what he'd be arriving to.
When he gets there, he knows it’s bad. Hen and Chimney are locked in a furious screaming match with Gerrard, their faces all varying shades of puce, and it looks like Hen's about to punch Gerrard in the nose, based off the hand Chimney has wrapped tightly around her wrist.
He spots Eddie and Buck immediately; they're in the locker room and Eddie has his arm around Buck's shoulders. When he looks up and locks eyes with Tommy, he can see the flames of rage licking behind Eddie's eyes. Buck's got his face in his hands, and his shoulders are shaking in a way that tells Tommy that he's crying. Tommy's across the station in 3 quick strides, dropping to his knees in front of Buck and taking his face in his hands, stroking his thumbs over his cheekbones.
"What the hell happened?" he asks Eddie, because Buck's not in any shape to breathe right now, let alone talk.
Eddie doesn't reply immediately, but his jaw ticks and he looks like he's carefully picking his words. Just as he's about to speak, Buck's voice, quiet and broken, cuts through the silence.
"He made me watch."
Tommy's brow furrows in confusion, and a ball of dread settles in the pit of his stomach. Buck swallows convulsively and even Eddie looks like he might throw up. It's bad.
"Watch what?" Tommy asks carefully. He doesn't want to push it, not if Buck isn't up to speaking, but he needs to know.
Eddie speaks up first, and his voice is shaky too.
"We were called to a massive haemorrhage at the Pride Event in West Hollywood. A man and his husband had been attacked by one of those bible bashers that stand there and tell everyone they're going to hell. A bystander said they'd been arguing with him and he pulled a knife. Got the first guy in the stomach, second just above his heart. There was nothing we could do."
Buck takes a deep breath, a whine issuing from the back of his throat. Tommy puts a hand around the back of his neck and rubs soothing circles just below his hairline.
"He made me watch," Buck repeats again, a little louder this time, and Tommy's heart clenches cause he knows, he fucking knows what Buck is going to say next. "He said "ride with Wilson, Buckley. This is a good opportunity for you to increase your medic skills." He knew they weren't going to survive but he made me...." Buck trails off, unable to finish his sentence, and Tommy's vision goes red. He's never hated anyone more than he hates Gerrard right now.
That is, until Buck finishes his sentence.
"He said "you might learn something valuable," but he wasn't talking about the job."
Buck's fists are clenched so tight his knuckles are white, and there's blood under his fingernails. Eddie's got a fistful of Buck's shirt clenched tightly in his fist and he looks like he's doing all he can to not run upstairs and tear Gerrard limb from limb.
There's a ringing in Tommy's ears and everything sounds kind of muffled, like his head is underwater. He's clutching the back of Buck's neck so hard that it's got to be painful, but he can't make himself let go.
When he left the military, Tommy made a vow that he would never take another man's life. But for this - for Gerrard - for what he did to Buck, the light of Tommy's life, he might just make an exception.
#james writes#bucktommy#bucktommy ficlet#bucktommy headcanon#evan buckley#tommy kinard#911 abc#911#911verse#911 fanfic#911 ficlet#vincent gerrard#tevan#kinley#firepilot#evan buckley x tommy kinard#tw: death#tw: murder#tw: homophobia
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Hey bestie just wondering if u could do a little comfort one shot of our joey, context:
Starting our period in the middle of work(specifically retail but like a 6hr shift) and coming home grumpy and wanting comfort from Joe?
Pls and thank you🤍
fuck off i can TASTE this request in my bones, what the FUCK - thanks for sending it in babes, love you, mwah 🤍
Wordcount: 1.8K
---
What Else?
"Babe!" Joe called when he heard the front door go, and he sounded all chipper.
All happy that you were home. Upbeat, and in a good mood. Dripping with joy. Excited to see you, and enthusiastic, and all eager and... no. That was wrong. That was all wrong.
You were none of those things and didn't have any patience for any of those things.
You silently debated ignoring him and slipping into the shower to melt yourself down the drain. Joe hadn't done anything wrong, but it just so happened that the universe had. It wasn't Joe's fault that he was part of that, but he was, and so, one plus one equalled no patience for Joe.
"Babe?" Joe sounded a bit more unsure when you didn't answer him.
"No." you just replied, your voice as flat as you could manage it still.
Joe was going to have to leave you alone for a bit. Not get too close or look you in the eye. You know, for his own safety.
But then you heard rushed footsteps.
"No? What do you mean, no?"
Joe stepped into the hallway and the boy looked like he'd just had the most leisurely day ever, which was wrong.
Wrong thing to look like.
You very much hadn't had a leisurely day, so no one else was allowed to have had one, either.
You were tired, and in a mood, and all your face wanted to do was frown, and if Joe knew what was good for him he'd wipe that stupid smile right off of his face as he closed in on you and curled his arms around your head to hug your face.
He pressed his cheek to yours, and you allowed it.
Just for a second, though.
The kiss he then pressed to your cheek was too much.
Wrong.
"I've got balled up toilet paper in my underwear." you made it sound like a warning. Like Joe was on thin ice, somehow.
"Oh..." Joe said in casual surprise before trying to get another wet kiss in that you leant away from as you frowned deeper and pushed him back.
He hadn't picked up on the cautionary advice you actually never shared.
Wrong.
"Don't touch me."
"Okay, sorry!" Joe comically stepped back and held both his hands up. "Can I touch you when your underwear no longer contains balled up toilet paper?"
You pushed him aside as you made your way to the bathroom.
"No."
Yes, he could. He better. If Joe wasn't going to be nice to you, you'd be even less fun to be around.
"No?" Joe double-checked.
Yes.
"No." You double-downed.
You disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, and you heard Joe chuckle.
Chuckle.
"Fuck you."
Joe was a bad boyfriend and you could fucking cry.
"Okay." Joe lightly scolded, having obviously heard the soft swearing from inside the bathroom, humour still evident in his voice from behind the door. "Take a second and come find me after."
You had to take a moment to breathe, eyes closed, nostrils flared. If you didn't, you'd lash out and say something you didn't mean. You meant the fuck you. Joe was an adult and could read the room and be gentle instead of laugh at you.
You heard him leave the hallway before you sighed deeply, turned on the shower, and let your brain go silent to the white noise of the water stream.
You washed your hair in the first minute, then sat down and decided you could just stay there for the evening. With your back against the tiles, you hugged your knees tightly, chin atop. Blanketed by the warm water and hidden away from everything else.
Perfect.
After about twenty minutes of sitting in the shower, you heard the door unlock and open.
Joe placed the butterknife he used to break in next to the sink and reached into the shower to turn it off.
"Come on, baby,"
Joe had to squat to help you up.
"Time to dry off."
You wordlessly let yourself be helped onto your feet, and then groaned slightly when Joe held up a big fluffy towel that you stepped into. He hugged you over it as you let yourself sink into him. Joe made sure to hug and squeeze you all over, shifting his arms up and down your body, and it was arguably the best way to get dry after a shower.
"My feet are sore," you complained, eyes wet. "I never want to work again."
"My poor baby," Joe cooed sincerely. "What else?"
"I've got a headache."
"You do?" Joe moved the towel to softly dab your face, careful gentle touches near your eyes, dabbing away shower water as well as the beginnnigs of tears.
"And I want to pull my uterus out of my stomach."
"That sounds messy." Joe kneeled as he dried your legs.
It was so devastating to be upset over a discomfort that you just had to accept, because you were born like this. It was unfair.
"I think I might've bruised my vagina with the toilet paper."
"Hmm," Joe looked, and it seemed fine, but what did he know? He had never had to fold up single ply toiletpaper enough times for it to resemble a pad.
"What else?" Joe's voice was smooth like velvet, no making fun. Just comfort.
"I want to commit a murder."
Joe dried the tops of your feet as you wiped at your face, hot tears of frustration now passing your lashline.
"People are the w-worst and they all need to die."
Joe leant back on his heels and looked up at you, brow creased in what appeared to be genuine sympathy. You thought he may say something reasonable, like, not all people, or whatever. But he didn't. Instead he just cocked his head to the side a little and asked,
"What else?"
That made you sob.
"I want..." you started, breath stuttering. "I want– I'm leaking." You felt the trickle of period blood and Joe was quick to swoop in, getting it before you could even look down to see the damage.
"What else, baby? What do you want?" he distracted.
"I want... chocolate. Sugar."
Joe dried you off completely, cleaned and wiped what needed cleaning and wiping and then found a tampon where you kept them.
"I want it to rain, and I want it to be autumn."
You were crying and being unreasonable and it felt great whilst simultaneously feeling the worst.
"Who designed the female bod-dy? Who th-thought of the concept of it? They got it wrong. It's all wrong."
Joe moved like he was going to help insert the tampon, a move that would've made you laugh had you been in a better mood. Now, it just made you take the cotton from his hands as you listed off more things that were wrong with the world.
"My stomach hurts, a-and I'm mad at the government."
Joe just listened. Helped you dress into soft comfortable clothes. Encouraged you to get all of your complaints out. It'd leave the world feeling lighter, he knew. He'd dealt with you on days like these before.
Was nothing new.
He couldn't right any of the wrongs, but he could be sweet and love you with a bit more care than usual.
When you eventually ended up on the sofa together, you were ready to lay down right on top, but Joe stopped you just before you did.
"Can't rub your feet like that. You said you had sore feet, right?"
The way that made your lip wobble made Joe easily accept you in his arms, the way you wanted to lay with him in the first place. He'd get your feet later.
Joe made space between his legs to accommodate you.
With his back comfortably pushed into the sofa cushions and you rubbing your face into the fabric of his T-shirt that covered his chest, Joe decided to ask just one more time.
"Hey," he whispered, wrapping a leg around one of yours. "What else?"
You took a moment to think, but came up blank.
There was nothing else left. You were still annoyed, and tired, and dealing with a dull pain in your lower stomach, but you'd mentioned all of those things already.
There was something you hadn't yet said though.
"M'sorry," you murmured, meaning it with your full chest, but voice only coming out small.
Joe smiled, and he could've made a small joke. Poked fun, just a little.
He didn't.
"I'm sorry I was mean."
Joe just kissed the top of your head
"Can you..." you began, moving a hand up to swipe your wet hair aside.
"Yea of course," Joe's hand found the hem of your T-shirt to pull up, revealing your bare back. You didn't need to finish the question for Joe to know what you were asking for as his finger tips started slowly trailing up and down your back.
Joe felt how you sunk into him more. Felt how your breath was just a strange inhale away from letting emotions seep through the cracks once more. How you burrowed into him even more than he thought was really even possible.
This was all you'd really needed since the moment you'd walked in.
And he'd tried.
He'd called for you.
Knew you'd had a long shift that day.
But you hadn't been ready then.
You'd needed to get a bunch of things out of your system first.
Joe knew.
Knew you.
Joe's tickling fingers felt like heaven, tracing up and down your back inside of your shirt. It was strange how you felt both heavy and light, limbs like lead, but your mind sort of floaty.
You sighed into him as you felt Joe's other leg close in on you, caging you in.
"I really am sorry. When I said no, before, when you asked if you could touch me, I didn't mean that. I didn't mean no."
"Hmm," Joe hummed, and swallowed everything he could say about how he knew you hadn't meant no. How he knew you. There was a reason why he knew how to easily break into the bathroom.
"That's okay. I get to touch you now, don't I?"
You smiled, embarrassed because of your own earlier childish lies.
Joe was a good boyfriend.
"I get to touch you, and hug you, and feel you, and," Joe strained his neck to press a kiss against your hairline. "And kiss you..."
You melted under his affection, and decided you had an important question to ask him as well.
"Yea?" you planted you chin on his chest and looked at your boyfriend, double chins and all, as he looked down at you, gaze warm and dripping with sweet honeyed love for you.
You tried returning it as best you could.
"What else?"
---
The Taglisted
@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson
@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn
@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee
@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @gri959, @hanahkatexo
@harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven
@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr
@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories
@phyllosilicate-s, @readergf, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @solzi1420
@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73
@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
#joseph quinn#joe quinn#joseph quinn x you#joe quinn x you#joseph quinn x reader#joe quinn x reader#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn fanfic#joseph quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn x Y/N#joe quinn x Y/N#icallhimjoey#what else
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Closing Time (Leo x FemReader)
Summary: Who doesn’t love closing time? Especially when it’s with your very handsome, very sexy coworker.
Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Closing time fun and… Leo’s big, fat dick.
Notes: I would love to hear what all you, lovelies, think! If you would like to see more of Leo! If so...I already have another idea in mind! ❤️
- Closing time, your absolute favorite part of your shift. Well, that and getting to work with him.
- You’d be lying if you said you aren’t attracted to him. Those sparking blue eyes, that brilliant smile, tight butt… It was easy to see why you drop a slice of pizza or spill a drink at least once a day…
- “Angel… Angel… Earth to, angel…”
- “Oh, Leo!” You squeak in surprise, broom clattering to the floor.
- Kicking yourself internally, you scramble to pick it up. Trying to act like you weren’t just totally spacing out, watching him prep the dough for tomorrow. Rolling, kneading it…fantasizing it was you instead. “Um, d-did you need something?”
- The sound of his gravelly voice comes floating from the back, a shiver running down your spine. “Yeah, if you’re done cleanin’ up front; I could use some help back here.”
- Popping up, you’re met by the sight of him standing there. Arms crossed over his chest, a mischievous look on his flour smeared face. “Made a real mess back here.”
- The heat instantly rushes to your cheeks and other places. “O-Okay, I’m com-”
- “Comin’?��� He chuckles, eyebrows raised slightly. “Knew I’d get ya to.”
- Flashing you a grin, he returns to his work. Leaving your heart pounding, walls fluttering. Just like always, damn him.
- With a soft huff, you quickly scamper around the counter. Keeping yourself turned away him, you get to sweeping. Minding your own business, doing your best to not focus on the fact that you keep getting closer to him with each brush of the broom.
- Due to the cramped space, you two inevitably end up bumping into one another. Turning, you begin to frantically apologize… “Opps, sorry! I didn’t mean to-”
- …when suddenly he crowds you against the small island and captures your lips in a searing kiss. Nipping, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Hard cock pressing into your stomach. Dirty hands making their way down your sides, streaks of white left in their wake. As they come to settle on your hips; giving them a good, firm squeeze.
- Breaking apart, he mutters in your ear, “Been waitin’ to do that.” Before hoisting you up, sending anything and everything crashing to the floor.
- “And what else, huh?” You giggle, watching Leo fumble with his belt and zipper. While you eagerly shimmy out of your leggings and panties. Eyes growing a bit wide when you see what he’s been sporting this whole time.
- Slotting himself between your legs, he cages you in with his strong arms. Lips trailing over your neck, fat tip running through your wet folds. “I think ya know.”
- Your hands come to rest on the back of his head, knocking his baseball cap off. A needy mewl escaping you when you feel him line up with your entrance. “Don’t tease me.”
- Smirking, he snaps his hips forward. Stretching you out so deliciously, pounding into you wonderfully. Teeth biting at your sensitive skin. “Never tease…not with ya.”
- Speeding up, his thrusts grow stronger. Your body bouncing with every movement and all you can do is hold on. Fingers gripping his shoulders, pussy clinging to him. Panting and moaning like crazy.
- The noise of skin slapping together fills the air, his dick driving deeper. Hitting that lovely little spot inside you over and over. Pushing you swiftly and dangerously close to the edge, along with… “Fuck… Sweetheart… Fuck…”
- One last hard slam and he has you seeing stars. Whole body clamping down, a string of cries flying from your lips. As you gush all over his cock, while he paints your walls white. Some leaking out, mingling with the flour beneath you.
- Slowly coming back down, he presses his forehead to yours. Both wearing the same stupid smile, you can’t help but tease. “Wow, you really did make a mess back here.”
- “And I’m about to make it into a bigger one,” Leo growls. Mouths colliding, hips starting to slowly rock again.
Tag Lists: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @kenobiskywalkerkestis, @loverforoldermen, @lunarnightt, @adorbzliz, @ahano, @kenmaiica, @freezerbride95, @lunarnightt
#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen fanfiction#hayden christensen smut#anakin skywalker#anakin#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader#star wars anakin#sw anakin#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin fanfiction#anakin smut#star wars#star wars prequels#star wars fanfiction#star wars smut#darth vader#darth vader x reader#dart vader fanfiction#darth vader smut#leo campoli#leo campo#leo campoli x reader#leo campo x reader#leo campoli smut#leo campo smut#little italy
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pairing: Lewis Hamilton x femalereader
summary: Lewis proposes in a special ceremony—and it’s dirty
warnings: mentions of sexual activities, slight jealousy
(a/n): this is written from Lewis’ pov cuz I love my man obsessed
I MIGHT BE the filthiest person in her life right now. The dirtiest one, with the most disgusting thoughts about her. Do I care, though?
Absolutely not.
Will I let another man touch her?
Hah. Funny enough.
Because when this night is over, a ring will be circled around the fair flesh of her finger. And my initial will be curved into it. I’m sure of it.
My fiancé soon-to-be has chosen a red, long dress that hugs her curved body for tonight’s ceremony. I can see my parents eye her across the ballroom.
Our names are written on tonight’s sky. Mine and hers. The night is ours. And it’ll not be over until we say so.
Y/N appears at the very top of the stairs and her father rushes by her side, helping her to walk towards me. Reaching for her hand as soon as she reached the last step, the crowd ceases clapping.
I take her hand in mine. It fits perfectly, as always. She fits perfectly. Her body against mine. Her smart brain along with mine. Her eyes on mine.
Everything is perfect because she is a part of it.
“Lewis…” She approaches me and I can detect a particular glimpse of something in her beautiful eyes.
I curl my lips in a smile. “You’re the most beautiful woman in this room.” I say. I’m positive that everyone’s eyes and ears are focused on this moment. On us. “Probably in the entire world.”
She manages a smile, even though I can tell she’s nervous. About a hundred or so people have been gathered by me and her father to celebrate this day.
Three years ago, when the date was the same as it is this day, I met her.
Three years later, I’m marking her as mine. Officially, at least. Because I made sure she knew—and everyone else around us—she’s mind since the very first moment.
“Don’t be nervous, baby,” I push her towards me gently and cup her reddened cheeks with my hands.
Across my thumb, her initial is written on the surface with bold ink.
My hands are hers to use. Hers to lick. Hers to fuck. I wanted her to know that.
I turn around and smile at the guests. Toto gives me a reassuring father as he drinks a sip from his wine next to my father.
“Let’s dance,” I brush my lips across her ear, starting to make our way to the centre of the room.
“Lewis, you know I can’t dance in these shoes.” She lifts her right leg just a few inches and waves her dress so I can take a glimpse of her white heels.
I make sure to keep my tone quiet. “Y/N, I’ve seen you pole-dancing in stripper-heels.”
Her face turns into a darker shade of red. Her hands feels cold. Sweaty.
I don’t want her to fucking feel like that on a day as special as this one.
She has to calm down. And I’m the one obligated to make her do it.
I brush her long hair and press pecks on her temple, cheeks, lips… I stop on the neck because it’s a soft spot for me. Can’t let myself lose control in front of all my relatives, friends and coworkers. It’d be such a pity to grab her and take her to the closest room and ruin such an event.
I being a glass of red whine for her knowing how much she adores it. My hand never leaves her and I can tell that as the minutes pass, her breathing feels steadier.
One hour goes by.
Two.
It’s ten past something and about time I…
“Ladies and gentlemen.” I let y/n’s hand and climb on the stage, rolling the sleeves of my white shirt as I do so. “Thank you for attending tonight’s ceremony, to begin with. It is a special day for us and we are very pleased to share such a great moment with the people we love.”
The crowd above the stage claps, I can even take a glimpse of my dog, Roscoe, swirling around in Ricciardo’s embrace… everyone is overwhelmed and that brings a smile to my lips. But nothing compares to the burning sensation in my chest.
I don’t know what it is. But I know it’s a good feeling. I also got it the first time I met y/n. Or when I asked her out. Or when we first kissed or made love.
“I would like to invite my beautiful woman, y/n…” I control myself not to exclaim “fiancé” or “wife” instead of “woman”. I’m not hesitant to go on. “…on this stage with me.”
The people go thunderous and I help y/n to walk the few steps on the stage.
We arrive at the centre of the stage and the music stops.
All the lights on us. Everyone’s eyes.
It feels magical.
I look up and find the most beautiful pair of eyes I’ve ever seen already fixed on me. She’s smiling. It’s contagious so I grin as well. “Y/n…” I start but a voice interrupts my words.
“Go on one knee!” I identify Toyo’s voice in the first row as I reach for the velvet box in my pocket.
“On one knee!” Yells my father and then the guests go crazy.
I turn to my woman and smile. “Don’t ask me to go on one knee.” I say.
“As long as you don’t ask me to get on two knees.” She replies in a dirty voice, leaning towards me.”
“Baby, I want you in all for.”
She smiles again but no one hears our conversation. They still yell for me to propose on one knee.
Fuck. I’ll have to do this.
I grab the box tightly in my hand and do as asked. I get on my knees.
In front of my woman. The woman of my dreams.
I’ve been on my knees in front of y/n countless times before, but for educational purposes only. Nothing like this.
I raise my eyes. She’s crying.
I hold onto her hand. “Y/n…” I start. “Please make me the happiest man in the entire universe and accept this proposal.” I think my heart is going to explode. “Will you please marry me?”
The crowd erupts in a chaos of applause and I find myself trapped in her eyes. I expect her to say the word first, but she doesn’t.
She melts into my hands and buries her small face in my neck.
This has to be the most beautiful moment of my entire existence.
She’s crying and I think I am too honestly. “Yes, yes, yes! A million times yes, Lewis!” She almost creams and between tears, I grab her face and unite our temples. I apply a kiss on her mouth. It’s gently at first but then I can see her craving for more.
When I let her lips to catch my breath (I actually remembered that we are not alone, but in a room with our closest people and if she went on I would without hesitation forget their existence) I look into her eyes. I grab her delicate hand and take the ring out of the box.
It fits perfectly on her finger.
I look at her again and murmur, “Perfectly fitted. Just for you, baby. Just for my wife.”
••••••••••
#f1 drivers#f1#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula one#f1 memes#mercedes amg f1#f1 fandom#sebastian vettel#max verstappen#toto wolff#formula 1 smut#formula one smut#formula one oneshot#formula one imagine#formula one fic#formula 1 memes#formula 1 one shot#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton smut#lewishamiltonedit#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton fanart#lewis hamilton 44#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton
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right here
it was just one of those nights when you had to take care of Satoru since Suguru left…
content. au, no sorcerers in this one. mentions of drugs and drug use, angst, curse words, maybe some kind of domestic fluff? implied smut at the end. happy ending?
a/n. this is kind of like an au from this fic. not so sad and a little bold. hope you like it either way!! (right here by chase atlantic heavily inspired this)
Satoru was high, again. His dilated pupils were fixed on your body from the moment you entered his field of vision, walking among the sweaty bodies that did nothing but squeeze against each other in that discotheque. His lips had curved into a lewd smile, because you knew he knew you were coming, sooner or later, and his bright eyes roamed your body, even though you were barely wearing a pair of baggy jeans and one of his giant jackets. To beat his stupid ass and take him back home, like always.
“Satoru.” you spoke in reprimand, and his fucking friends around you barely gave you a sideways glance, some blurting out obscene words they thought you couldn't hear and others booing because you were going to take away their source of amusement. “Time to go.”
“Ah, y/n, can't you wait a little longer?” Shoko was at Satoru's right side, holding his arm as if she wasn't ready to let him go.
You only liked Shoko when she was sober, so you pay her minimal attention as you approached your white-haired friend. His smile hadn't disappeared, and it seemed like those moments were the only ones where you could glimpse a bit of real emotion in his eyes.
“Come on.” You grabbed his arm, ignoring the way Shoko wanted to cling to him and how his other friends were booing louder. Satoru's limp body slipped through your fingers, because he was damn heavy, falling against the couch again. “Please.”
His body gave way, moving with a new strength of resolve the moment that word left your mouth. His eyes, as bright as they were dangerous, were fixed on yours as he intertwined his fingers with yours.
“Will you shut the fuck up, Choso?” Satoru spat, averting his gaze for a moment to devote a deadly expression to the friend who used to boo you the most whenever you went looking for him. You and Choso used to get along well, but from a while back things had changed too much.
Even six months ago you didn't think you'd ever have to go into a nightclub at two in the fucking morning to look for your friend because he wasn't answering his fucking phone.
You dragged Satoru to your car, and even though he looked so stoned from the way you could barely make out the blue in his irises, he walked like he was sober beside you and buckled up judiciously.
“You were late today.” was the first thing he said as you pulled onto the freeway heading towards your apartment; the apartment you shared with the airhead you had for a friend.
"I was asleep. You were supposed to write me if you were here any longer.” you gave yourself a moment to turn to look at him, his gaze clouded with drugs. “What did you get into?”
“Nothing I haven't tried before, don't worry.”
“Why do you have to do this every time?” you whispered, but his perceptive self caught every word that came out of your mouth and let out a chuckle in response.
“You shouldn't worry so much, y/n.”
“I'll worry as much as I damn well please, you hear?”
Your aggressive tone of voice only caused him to laugh again. He didn't answer back, but with his head resting against the window you knew he'd fall asleep soon.
-
Satoru had become uncontrollable since Suguru left. Six months ago, the love of his life, the person he swore he would spend the rest of his life with, had given him nothing but a poor excuse to end what they had built for four years and kick it all over his face as he turned his back on him and disappeared; totally. The day Suguru walked out that door, neither you nor Satoru ever saw him again.
It was clear why you were coping better than Satoru. Suguru hadn't promised you a lifetime together or given you a promise ring. Satoru had been broken since the day he left and it had been a constant battle trying to keep him afloat. Only that nigh Suguru left, Satoru dared to be vulnerable with you and spent the whole night crying himself to sleep from exhaustion. Afterwards, he reconnected with friends he had abandoned since meeting Suguru. And with old habits, too.
You did what you could, but there was enough you could carry. Still, you didn't have the heart to leave him alone. He was the most important thing in your life and you couldn't let him fade away, even if his friends hated you; even if he hated you himself. Whatever you had to do, you would do it.
“You smell so good.” Satoru spoke in his sleep, the moment you dropped him on your bed, because he had never dared to go back into the room he shared with Suguru. He usually slept in the living room or brought the couch into your room when he felt too lonely. “Have you always smelled like this?”
His head lifted from the pillow, trying to follow the thread of the scent of your perfume wafting from your neck.
“Yes. Now hold still.”
“Is it time to undress already?”
"Yes, Satoru. And you should take a bath. You smell awful."
"What the…? Of course not."
The white-haired man stood up long enough to try to sniff his own shirt, which emitted a smell of alcohol mixed with cigarette and who knows how many other things. His nose wrinkled and for that reason alone he let you unbutton his shirt without a complaint. Usually Satoru would get too commentary when you undressed him to take a shower, but that time he kept quiet, his narrowed eyes following your movements and flinching when your fingers touched his skin.
“Are you going to fix dinner?”
You looked up at him through your lashes as you undid his black pants.
“Are you hungry?”
“I think it would help me regain consciousness.”
"In the fridge are the leftovers from dinner. I can heat them up while you bathe."
Satoru clicked his tongue, moving to sit up when you took him by the shoulders.
“We were supposed to have dinner tonight.”
Ah, in all and in the midst of his lethargic state he remembered.
“Doesn't matter.”
“I'm sorry, y/n.”
"Get up. The tub's ready."
Satoru stood up with a pout, his eyes crystallizing as he moved behind you in the direction of the bathroom. He didn't stray for a moment like he did before.
“Ah,” Satoru almost groaned as he sank fully into the water, letting his eyes close as you wet his hair a little, “this feels like glory.”
“You could feel like this more often if you didn't go out so much.”
Your friend frowned, half-opening his eyes to look at you as his hair got soaked. “Are you implying something specific?”
You didn't respond, letting silence dance between the two of you, until your friend groaned loudly.
“You know I'm slower when I'm drunk.”
“Then you should stop being drunk so often.”
“Not fair…”
“Take a bath,” you left the soap between his hands, “I'll go heat up your food.”
Walking in the direction of the exit, you still wondered why you had let things go this far. Satoru called out to you, his left hand outstretched outside the tub, as if reaching for you, trying to get to you. His bright eyes still lacked that glowing blue, but you could see a little more lucidity in them now.
“Thank you.”
-
You sat across from your friend as he dove into the dinner you had prepared. Satoru loved your food. Back when Suguru still lived here, you would prepare banquets to spend a day or the whole weekend with endless platters of food while having series or movie marathons.
Maybe you wanted to convince yourself that Suguru's departure hadn't affected you as much as it had Satoru. Maybe it had, but if you weren't the rational one in the relationship you were left in with Satoru then probably neither of you would survive.
“This tastes amazing.” Satoru complimented you, scraping the crockery to eat every last chip.
“It was more delicious freshly prepared.”
You let your chin rest on the back of your hand as Satoru looked up heavily, the blue glowing a little brighter after the shower and with some food in his stomach.
He gulped. “I'm sorry-”
“Whatever,” you didn't want to hear it; you'd lost count of the number of times he'd apologized and the number of times he'd promised you that next time it wouldn't be like this, “finish quickly to go to sleep. I can't feel my eyes anymore."
You got up before his whiny voice could reach your ears and finished organizing the kitchen by the time his plate was left in the dishwasher.
“The rest will be organized by tomorrow's sober you.”
Satoru lifted a shoulder. “It's only fair.”
In the room, silence engulfed you once again. You didn't close the door because you knew he planned to sleep there that night, but his body remained standing in front of the couch when you thought he'd already gone to bed. You changed, as usual, as you usually do while he sleeps, in front of the closet.
“Hey, do you think I can sleep with-? Wow.”
You froze. Your breath caught in your throat because you swore he'd gone to bed; it was what he did every time, you didn't even have to ask him to do it. But when you cautiously turned to look over your shoulder, he was standing in front of your bed, with a direct view of your bare back and full coverage of your legs because you were only in your underwear.
“Satoru! Turn around!”
“Ah, yes, sorry, sorry…”
His body turned reluctantly, returning the poorly disguised stare about three times until his back was completely turned to you.
You changed in record time, barely putting on one of the white shirts you had stolen from him months ago and closing the closet. When you turned around to see him, his back was still turned, playfully kicking some lint on the floor, trying to distract himself while you finished changing.
“What were you saying?”
Satoru turned suddenly, his eyes finding you with trained ease, walking in the direction of the nightstand to prepare you, once again, for sleep. His silence intrigued you, and when you turned back to see him after plugging in your phone and setting your alarms, you found him staring at your legs.
“Satoru.”
“Yes?” his large, not very innocent eyes returned to your face with embarrassing speed, and from the hardness in your gaze he cleared his throat before speaking again. "Ah. Mmm. Actually, I wanted to ask you if I could sleep with you tonight, but I don't know if it's the most appropriate thing to do right now…"
You arched an eyebrow at him, massaging your hands with a moisturizer as you settled in between your sheets.
“But you sleep here every night.”
“I mean,” Satoru shifted, pointing to the empty side of your bed and then to himself, “to literally sleep with you.”
“Ah.”
You looked at the empty side and at your friend, taking more time to respond than Satoru had considered. He thought you'd straight up tell him no and even send him to sleep in the living room, but it seemed like you genuinely considered it.
“I wouldn't mind.” you finally replied, and you missed seeing the way his shoulders relaxed as you turned to turn off the room light. “Just try not to snore too much.”
“What?” Satoru stopped halfway into the bed, and you smiled imagining his offended face; if you focused properly you could see it through the darkness. “I don't snore.”
“Uh-huh~”
Satoru finally threw himself on the bed with a grunt and you could only laugh in response.
“Go to sleep already.”
Satoru cowered on his side of the bed, unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone for several months now. His tense body stayed in the position he fell into, face up, barely feeling your movements on the mattress as you found your favorite sleeping position. Your bed was small, barely fit two people, and if Satoru got any closer he could feel your breathing against his neck.
“y/n?” Satoru spoke a couple of minutes later, when he thought you had fallen asleep.
“Mmm?” you hummed in response, trying to hold back sleep until you were sure your friend had fallen asleep first. Usually that wasn't a problem, because Satoru pretty much came in asleep from the car ride, but that night he seemed to be full of surprises.
“Do you miss him?”
Your chest ached for the tiniest second, the fond memories of their nights the three of you together in that apartment raiding your mind. Maybe you had mourned Suguru's departure as much as Satoru had when he wasn't seeing you, but that was something you were going to keep to yourself alone. There was no room for forgiveness and that attempted of a man didn't deserve a single tear from both of you.
So you swallowed that pressure like a wet rag and frowned, even if your friend couldn't see you.
“Not as much as I'd like to strangle him.”
“How do you do that? How do you stay strong?”
His voice, so low, soft and vulnerable, you couldn't help but let it pierce through to your heart. You opened your eyes, and for some reason you felt his blue eyes on yours.
“I do it for you.”
You listened to his breathing, loud, choppy, the slight startled intake of breath. You moved your hands over the mattress and didn't have to go too far to find his hands and cradle them.
“You don't have to think about that,” you murmured now that you were closer, feeling his heartbeat through your grip, “you don't have to think about him.”
“I don't know what to think about anymore.” Satoru replied, his voice matching yours, almost as if he was running out of air; like his last prayer for salvation.
And you didn't know, even some time later, what had moved you that night. His closeness, his vulnerability, that you no longer knew what else to do to help him… but you moved closer to him and pressed your lips against his.
Satoru was probably moved by the same thing that moved you, because he didn't hesitate for a second to kiss you back with the same fierceness and passion, letting go of your hands and wrapping his long arms around your waist.
That night something changed between the two of you. You didn't know if you were seeking comfort in each other's arms; trying to fill a void that someone else had implanted in both of you with his departure, when he had taken a part of each of you with him when he left; maybe because you were both the only thing the other had; maybe because you knew Satoru would never do that to you; maybe because he knew you would never do that to him.
Whatever the reason, Satoru never let go of you all night, his lips swallowing every moan of yours and his hands always intertwined with yours.
Whatever the reason, Satoru had found something else, something different, something that didn't even compare to drugs… something he didn't even know he could have.
And he wasn't about to let it go this time.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo smut#satoru angst
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Suguru is a great cook.
You knew your boyfriend was capable of cooking just fine;after all,he survived all his days alongside Gojo,and didn't die from eating only sweets and junk. You'd even heard Shoko mention it offhandedly once.
"Suguru's alright i guess," she had said as she took a long drag of her cigarette, "i think he's improving too. But again, compared to that other idiot, anyone's a great cook."
And that was it. And although you guys have been going out for some time now, it had never crossed your mind to ask your boyfriend to cook for you. And even though you knew Suguru's good at everything he does,you never even guessed he'll be this good.
So he when one night,after a particularly rough mission which has your body sore,and a pained hiss escaping your lips everytime you make a sudden move,you find yourself being carried inside Suguru's small apartment. And if you were in your right mind;and not high on the painkillers Shoko had given you,you would've gotten slightly flustered,just like you always do when you go to his house.
But you're not in your right mind,and your body screams in pain when he settles you gently on the couch;pulling the comforter up your shoulders. Suguru rests his hands on his hips,and upon a full glance at you,he lets out a heavy sigh.
He looks worried; guilty that he wasn't there to help you.
"honey," you call weakly, fidgeting with the loose strand of the comforter and trying for a faint smile, "I'm alright. Please don't make that face."
Sugura sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.
"you know i hate it when you get hurt."
"but you saved me, didn't you?"
And by the way he clenches his jaw,you know what he's thinking.
I was late.
"hey," you call out with a smile;eyes softening upon seeing his troubled face, "how about you cook me dinner then?"
Because that's how Suguru Geto is;caring and protective. His love is like a gentle river; soothing and calm. And you know if you dont let him do something for you tonight,he might as well forget all about sleeping for a few nights.
So you shift, trying to hide your wince and give him a sweet smile.
"i want dessert too!"
At that,Suguru finally chuckles and nods his head;his face has relaxed slightly and his eyes look calmer.
"alright, darling," he leans foward to fix the blanket around your shoulders; dropping a loving kiss to your forehead, "whatever my baby wants."
So you get comfortable while Suguru busies himself in the kitchen. The TV is showing some kind of competition show,and after half an hour, you find yourself dozing off; probably the painkillers Shoko had given you were starting to kick in. And between the gentle humming of your boyfriend,and the way his scent engulfs you,your eyelids become heavier and your breath starts to even out
You don't know how much time has passed,but you flutter your eyes open,and watch Suguru brushing your hair out of your eyes with a gentle smile. His hair is out of his usual bun,and he looks so soft in his simple white t-shirts and sweatpants. Still dazed from sleep,you reach out and brush your fingers against his high cheekbones.
"hey pretty," his voice is soothing, gentle;as if he's afraid to startle you awake, "dinner's ready."
And when he sits down next to you, holding the spoon out in front of your mouth,you dont bother to keep your eyes open anymore.
That is,until you taste his cooking on your tongue.
Immediately,your eyes snap open,and you whip your head in his direction with blown out eyes.
"you," you swallow your bite and hold your hand in front of your mouth, "you made this?"
It must be the surprised look on face that has Suguru laughing;his eyes crinkling happily.
"that good?"
"its fucking amazing!what do you mean, 'good'?"
You open your mouth eagerly when he feeds you another spoonful,and close your eyes with a loud moan.
"oh my gosh!why have i been missing out on this?!" You give him a teasing glare, "bet you cooked alot for your boyfriend."
"first of all,dont call satoru that;it creeps the hell out me," he lightly nudges your shoulder with his;his smile the softest thing ," second of all,you never asked."
"i never knew you could cook!"
"so," he raises a brow, "you automatically thought I'm a horrible cook?"
"well,i mean,Satoru can't."
Suguru lets out a loud laugh at that.
"that's because he cant cook for the life of his. Besides,he thinks he can live longer with just sugar." He raises the spoon again,and when you giggle,he leans and kisses your full cheek, "but if you like it that much,then I'll be happy to always cook for you."
You stare at Suguru's dark eyes;his young face and sweet smile. The TV is showing some kind of commercial in the background, your body isnt hurting as much as before,and your belly is full of homemade meal. The heat coming off your boyfriend is enough to make your eyes flutter,and a happy smile settles on your lips.
You let out a content sigh,and rest your head on Suguru's shoulder.
"I'll take you up on that offer then."
And as you begin to doze off,you feel his lips pressing gently to the top of your head.
"with pleasure, princess."
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
A/n : canon world?i dunno what you're talking about <(￣︶￣)> Suguru's living healthy and happy with the people he loves and he teaches at jujutsu high with Satoru ( ꈍᴗꈍ)
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MSBY Bokuto Koutarou won another match <3 ; sub male reader , mentions of breeding , overstimulation , crying reader , praise kink
ㅤ
“Y-Yeah, we won another game… Aren't you just so proud of me, sweetheart?” Bokuto grunted into your ear, pushing your legs further against your chest as he pumped his cock into your hole.
He wore that stupid smug grin on his face, a clear indication that he knew you were proud of him— he just reveled in hearing it come out your mouth personally. ”S-So proud of you, Kou…~” You'd cry out, arching your back off the bed as Bokuto repeatedly hit your prostate.
Bokuto laughed breathily and pulled back to gently kiss your calves, “Keep praising me, baby… Fuck I'm almost there…” He moaned, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with sticky white liquid running down the skin.
And so you did, you babbled praises like they were prayers until they began to get more incoherent with each thrust to your hole.
At this point you were crying from the overstimulation and Bokuto noticed, with your head turned to the side while tears ran down your pretty face. He leaned down and wiped the tears away: whispering small apologies as he let go of your legs and slowed down, letting them fall back down on the bed.
“Sorry, baby… I just couldn't help it… I wanted to reward you for cheering me on…” Bokuto said as he kissed your lips, welcoming his tongue inside as he grinded his pelvis against yours. You mewled into the kiss as you felt your cock get rubbed in between your sweaty bodies.
Bokuto smiled and gently nibbled on your bottom lip, “‘m gonna keep fucking you, s'that okay?” He asked for confirmation. You could only give him a nod of approval which made him grin. “Thank you, I'll take you out later for being such a good boy.”
He pulled back and placed a hand on your abdomen, “Ohh…~ Feel how deep I am? I could practically put a baby in you.” He teased before wasting no time in fucking you again. You squealed, slamming your hand on his built chest to ground yourself as your eyes rolled back. You felt your vision going dark, and he cooed.
Bokuto shushed you and helped you wrap your arms around his neck, “Don't pass out on me, baby… I'm so close…” He moaned. The bed creaked beneath you two, and it was obvious you were gonna get a noise complaint from your neighbors tomorrow but neither of you cared enough.
He reached down and wrapped his hand around your cock before beginning to pump it in time with his harsh thrusts. You sobbed and cried at the overstimulation, your hand immediately grabbing a fistful of his hair.
Bokuto groaned, pressing down on your abdomen even harder to help angle his thrusts into your prostate. “F-Fuck, I'm coming…” He panted breathlessly, closing his eyes at the sheer bliss he felt whenever you squeezed around his fat cock.
It didn't take long for you to come with him following right after, both of your bodies convulsed as Bokuto desperately grinded against your hips to push his release deeper into your ass. Bokuto pressed his forehead against yours after he was fully sated, and chuckled tiredly.
“I love you so much… I'll give you the best dinner date ever, my sweet boy…” He gently kissed your lips.
© shirakow ; he's been my obsession for 6 years <3
#. . . 𝘀𝗵𝗶.𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 ?#bokuto x reader#bokuto koutarou#x reader#bokuto x male reader#bokuto haikyuu#haikyuu bokuto#haikyuu bokuto kotaro#bokuto koutaro x reader#bokuto x amab reader#bokuto koutarou x reader#haikyuu x male reader#haikyuu x reader
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Before You Fade (Memory Reboot x3)
PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader
SUMMARY: After moving to Chicago, you thought you had left your former life behind. But when you receive a mysterious invitation one day, you realize you still have unfinished business in New York.
CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, penetrative & oral sex, biting, spanking, creampie, masturbating, mild praise kink & degradation, body worship, pet names, dirty talk, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation, cheating.
WORDS: 6.8k
SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Before You Fade
A/N: Hello everyone! A new chapter is finally here! This story has me in a chokehold! I highly recommend you to read the first chapter and the second one for a better understanding and as always I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!
LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].
A new city, a new life, new people and new opportunities—all this was supposed to bring some relief, to ignite a new flame in your chest, to set a new goal, to make you forget everything that happened in New York. It was supposed to, but it never did.
After a few months of living in Chicago and working in a prestigious financial corporation, you began to notice that your life now looked like a vicious circle and the days blurred into one long day that never ended. That was probably the price you paid for running away, for being too cowardly to face the truth that what you shared with Bateman was not just a history—it was a goddamn passion and obsession that most people could only dream of. But you, you were not like them. For you, this obsession was like a plague, a disease, and you were sure that Patrick felt the same way. Still, the words he said that day were like scars on your mind. The poor guy really thought that you would stay with him, that you would miss a chance to reboot your life. Since you couldn't reboot the memory, this was the only way out.
Was that it?
The sleek interior of your office greeted you with the invigorating aroma of fresh coffee waiting for you on your desk made by your lovely assistant—a handsome guy named Vincent—he was quite modest but smart and sometimes you even thought you should have asked him out for something more serious than coffee. But then again, the shitty memories kept ruining all those weak impulses to try something new.
Sighing, you closed the door behind you and took off your coat, placing it on the nearby hanger and glancing at the beautiful bouquet of flowers on the small coffee table next to the big black couch. These flowers…you bought them for yourself just because you wanted them, not because you felt lonely or…
'Fuck, not again,' you shook your head, not giving yourself a chance to spiral again, knowing how quickly that could happen. Today was the worst day for self-digging, because you were going to present a final plan for a future quarter, and you couldn't fail. Not today, not ever. The moment you finally settled into your favorite armchair, you heard a soft knock at the door. You knew who it was even before you let the guest in.
Vincent, smiling as if he saw the brightest star in the midnight sky, opened the door and entered with cat-like grace. "Are you busy?"
Embarrassed by the man's persistent gaze, you folded your hands and leaned down on the table. "No, not really, I just came," you brought the coffee cup closer and wrapped your elegant fingers around its handle. "…and realized I have the best secretary in the world."
A sonorous chuckle rumbled from Vincent's chest. "Oh, you're too kind," the man walked into the office holding a pile of documents. "I brought you some fresh correspondence you might like to see."
"Uh, yes, thank you. Put it here, please."
The brown-haired secretary complied, and soon there was a large white envelope in front of you, next to the documents. There was something odd about having such a large envelope of mail since it was almost the end of the work week, but you just tapped your fingers on the smooth surface of the table in a slightly skeptical manner before turning your attention back to Vincent, who was standing in front of the desk, ready to assist you with anything you might ask.
"Anything else I can do?"
"I think that's about it for now," you answered, staring at the envelope from time to time out of the corners of your ears, sipping the hot drink and letting the warmth flow down your tensed body. "Oh, did you hear that our CEO won't be at the presentation today?"
"Really?"
"Yeah, he…has some unfinished business in LA…with a hot blonde chick."
You both laughed in unison, everything was clear as a bell. "Well, that sounds important." Vincent crossed his arms over his chest, the Oliver Peoples O'Malley glasses sitting perfectly on the bridge of his nose, though you tried not to focus on that little detail that constantly reminded you of Bateman. As if he was the only yuppie to wear such glasses. "Have you…"
As soon as Vincent started to speak, your phone rang—the loud sound even startled you a bit, but you quickly shook yourself and picked up the call, being extremely curious who could be calling you like this. "I'm listening."
"(Y/n)!" Paul Allen's cheerful timbre came from the other end of the line, making you almost jump in your seat.
"P-Paul?" You gave Vincent a worried look, and your nervousness seemed to affect your assistant as well, because he didn't look relaxed anymore. "Did something happen?"
"What? No! Of course not," Allen chuckled, and a female giggle could be heard in the background. "I'm calling to ask when we can see each other in New York…"
A noise grew louder, making it difficult to hear Paul's words, so you had to close one of your ears and furrow your brows in irritation. "Where are you calling from? A brothel? I can't fucking hear a word!"
Such a remark made Vincent laugh a little shyly, but then the man bowed his head and retreated in his professional, polite manner.
"Can you repeat…" You began to speak at the same time as Paul.
"…so when can we meet?"
Grumbling, you rolled your eyes. "Why did you even decide that I would visit New York?"
"Didn't you get the invitation to the wedding?" Paul's question made you feel something heavy in your stomach.
"Wedding? Who's wedding?"
There was a moment of silence that left you so nervous that you didn't even notice a pencil in your hands that was about to break because of how desperately you were squeezing it.
"Halberstram…" another pause, then another female snicker. All of it made you sick. "He's marrying a hardbody named… Cecilia, if I'm not mistaken."
Somehow you felt strangely relieved.
"But it's been several months since I quit, why was I invited?"
"Gee, (y/n)," now it was time for Paul to grumble a bit. "You think a few months are enough to forget you?" He laughed shamelessly into the phone. "Okay, okay, maybe I chose the wrong time to call you. But seriously, I'm looking forward to hanging out with you when you get here."
"Argh, fine," you muttered, finally letting go of the pencil only to grab the annoying envelope. "I'll call you later, today is really a fucked up day for me."
When you heard nothing but women laughing, you just hung up. 'God, it's only ten in the morning and Allen's already having fun. What am I doing wrong with my life?' You vented to yourself, twisting the envelope in your hands as if you were about to open Pandora's box.
With a deft move, you pulled out a postal knife and carefully cut open the envelope to gain access to its contents. Time stood still for you as your hands involuntarily reached for a beautifully decorated card that could definitely be a wedding invitation. After a short exhalation, you opened it and it took you several minutes to process what you had just seen, as you thought you were hallucinating.
The card had the following text:
“The honor of your presence is requested at the marriage of
Evelyn Arwyn Williams And Patrick Pierce Bateman
Saturday, the twentieth of October nineteen hundred and eighty-seven at twelve o'clock in the afternoon
Ziegfeld Ballroom 141 W 54th St New York, NY 10019.”
The card fell from your hands without any resistance. You felt dizzy, even nauseous, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the office and you were literally suffocating.
'How dare…' you cursed to yourself, grabbing the collar of your blouse in a feint attempt to unbutton it from the burning itch on your skin, '…you…fucking bastard!'
Dazed, you stood up faster than you should have, making your head spin and nearly knocking you over if you hadn't leaned on the back of your chair. You need some fresh air or a sip of heavy alcohol or a fucking gram. Something that will take you out of this situation, even if only for a moment.
"Boss?" Vincent's worried voice came out of nowhere. "Are you okay?"
Panting, you shot an angry glance at your table, then at your lovely assistant, whose bright eyes were like two glowing beacons. "Vincent, listen," you stammered, unable to find the right words. "Can you please order me a ticket," you closed your eyes for a second, counted to ten and gripped the back of your chair. "…to New York."
"New York? Something wrong?"
"N-no," you managed to laugh off your tension and stop grazing the leather under your fingernails. "It's just… seems like I have some deals to settle in New York, some old ones I thought were closed."
"Only one ticket or…"
"I need a ticket in both directions, of course," you mumbled nervously before taking a coffee and finishing it in one go, thankfully it became less hot. "I won't be there for long," you said as if you were trying to convince yourself, desperately trying. It was only when you met Vincent's eyes that you noticed his sad look and realized that you might have upset him. "Uh, I really wish I could take you with me… but I want someone to look after things here and…"
The dark-haired man smiled sympathetically, and that helped to calm you a little. "Oh, please, don't apologize; it's my job," he said, visibly relaxed, considering his casual pose with his hands in the pockets of his Armani trousers. "I'm just worried about you, I don't want anything bad to happen."
Slightly embarrassed, you couldn't help but grin sincerely. "Ah, Vincent, you're such a sweetheart," you rumbled with undisguised amusement. "Everything will be fine. I promise, you have nothing to worry about."
"All right, then," Vincent pulled himself up and opened the door. "I'll let you know when I have information about your flights."
After that you were left alone again. The muffled din of the city outside the office could be heard faintly whenever you walked past the windows, restlessly making circles around the room.
'Maybe I should just ignore it? Maybe it's just a bad joke and I should call Tim and ask him about it?' You covered your face with your palms before sighing tiredly. Once again, Bateman was forcing you to make strange decisions and you hated it. You hated him, you hated the wedding that hasn't even happened yet, and you hated yourself for being so easily overwhelmed.
No way in hell did you expect to visit New York too soon after you left the city and everything that happened there behind your back the moment you took your seat in an airplane to Chicago. And who would dare to judge you for that? Right, no one but you.
The wedding was supposed to be tomorrow, so you had some time to prepare for… for what? Yawning, you stretched your legs in the uncomfortable backseat of the taxi, the driver asking you where you were from and if you had ever been to New York. And at some point you felt sad because you really wanted to say no, you haven't. But you did, and only God knew how hard it had been for you to survive the past months of constant self-digging and dead-end conversations with your vicious subconscious.
Thanks to Vincent, you didn't have to worry about where to stay in New York, as he booked you a luxury suit at the Plaza Hotel. Ah, Vincent…that boy was so sweet that sometimes you could even believe in supernatural beings, as if life was trying to make amends for the unpleasant situation with Bateman.
Sitting on the big bed, you tried your best not to have a panic attack or, even worse, go crazy and empty the minibar, drinking as much as you could as if tomorrow would never come. 'Gosh, I'd sell my soul to see Bateman's face if I came to the wedding being completely drunk.’ With a silly smile on your face, you kept dreaming about some nonsense to distract yourself until the night came and you had to get some sleep before the wedding.
The next day started terribly when some random maid came early and mixed up your suit with someone else's. In the end, you couldn't say that you were rested enough, but you didn't have much time and you still had to come up with an idea for your outfit. 'Should I wear something extravagant or perhaps something more modest?' You spun around in front of the large mirror, the clock was ticking and that sound was really getting on your nerves.
"Uh, to hell with it…" you cursed to yourself and finally picked out a blue Gucci suit that fit your figure perfectly. "I don't want to overshadow the groom."
Winking at your own reflection, you added a few accessories before leaving the Plaza, where a beautiful Cadillac was waiting for you. A driver opened the back door for you, smiled politely, and at some point you even began to think that this day wouldn't be as shitty as it promised to be.
By the time you arrived at the Ziegfeld Ballroom, it was already quite crowded, with many luxury cars lining the street, delivering more and more stylishly dressed guests. With a heavy heart, you held an invitation in your hand and fought the urge to tear it apart and tell the driver to drive away. The sudden appearance of Courtney and Luis in your vision pulled you out of your doubts. 'So that bastard even invited Courtney,' you hummed and slowly opened the door to get out of the car.
All the way to the Ziegfeld Ballroom, you tried to be careful not to bump into anyone you didn't really want to interact with, like Timothy, Craig, David, Paul… Even though you were sure it was going to happen one way or another, you still didn't want to face reality too soon.
Inside the huge hall, you stopped near the long banquet table decorated with white and red roses—the whole style of the wedding screamed Evelyn. Nothing special, though, Bateman probably didn't care about such things as wedding decorations.
Taking a glass of champagne, you moved deeper into the hall and watched the guests split into groups. Still, you were lucky because you didn't see any familiar faces, even Luis and Courtney got lost somewhere among the faceless yuppies and their dates. Everything seemed fine, you had a plan to see the couple get married and then… slip away? It was such a stupid plan, but at least you had one.
Puzzled, you told yourself to leave all thoughts to the latter, when you wouldn't be so vulnerable, staying in the middle of the ballroom and watching the several waitresses bringing more and more appetizers. You were even about to try one of them when you accidentally noticed Tim and Craig coming your way. Trembling, you almost dropped the glass, but somehow you managed to put it on the nearby table, startling a waitress with your erratic behavior, but you didn't care.
As fast as you could, you rushed in a different direction from the group of your former friends, desperately searching for any room you could get into. Your pulse pounded in your eardrums, forcing you to open the first door and enter.
Breathing heavily, you pressed your back against the door and closed your eyes for a second, only to open them in a blood-chilling shock as you met a pair of hazel, dark eyes as bewildering as your own.
"You?" Bateman's startled voice bounced off the walls of the small bathroom, his face frozen in a confused grimace as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "What the fuck are you doing in here?"
"Me? You invited me, you fool!" You barked back, pulling away from the door and moving toward the brown-haired man. "Have you forgotten already?"
Patrick looked absolutely stunning in his wedding tuxedo, the black bow tie being the cherry on top of his impeccably styled appearance. For a brief moment, Bateman studied your angry expression, his thick eyelashes batting like bird wings.
"It was Evelyn," he replied curly, standing still. "How delusional you must be to think I would invite you?"
Crossing his arms, Patrick smiled, and at first glance he seemed calm, but his slightly trembling lips betrayed him. With a soft chuckle, you moved closer until you noticed a beautiful bride's bouquet—a combination of roses again.
"So did Evelyn get what she wanted? I can see her in every little detail of this wedding. The Ziegfeld Ballroom was her idea too?"
The man sighed wearily and rubbed the bridge of his nose briefly. "No, my mother insisted."
"Oh," you beamed, carefully taking the bouquet in your noticeably shaking hands. "How sweet."
With a quick movement, Patrick snatched the flowers out of your hands and placed them back on the bathroom counter. "I had to walk around with this bouquet like an idiot, because I didn't even see Evelyn all this time!"
Such an outburst made you pause for a moment. "Relax, Bateman," you pretended to cheer him up. "Soon you'll be a family man."
The words forced him to clench his teeth as if they caused him physical pain. "Why did you come here, (y/n)?"
"Do you have any ideas?"
The distance between the two of you became smaller and smaller, melting like ice under the burning sun. You didn't even notice that every time he spoke, you couldn't take your eyes off his plump lips, his perfectly shaped chin that you wanted to touch, the way his eyebrows curled… God, you shouldn't have come here in the first place…
"I'm not gonna play your games anymore," Patrick suddenly blurted out, pulling you out of your lewd dreams. "If you came here just to get on my nerves, I'll tell security to kick you out."
"Woah, woah," you jerked back as Bateman stepped closer, your foreheads almost bumping into each other. "You seem very tense, marriage is a stressful thing, right?"
You continued to back away until you hit the wall behind you, and in the next second, the man caught you between his arms, placing them on either side of your trembling little form.
"Bateman?" You asked him breathlessly.
Frowning, he leaned down. You thought he was going to kiss you, but he just gasped and turned away. "I hate you," those words hurt you more than you could ever imagine. "Do you see these hands?" He asked, raising his hand and bringing it closer to your face. "I could break your neck so easily and watch your dead body fall to the ground."
A creeping fear rippled through your chest as he spoke. "You're kidding, right?" You tried to make a joke out of it, but as he tightened his grip around your throat like an iron ring, a muffled whimper escaped your tense lungs. "Ahh, w-what…"
Instead of actually hurting you, the dark-haired man brought you closer, so that your lips finally collided and the way you kissed was beyond any normalcy of kissing. Growling like a beast, Patrick literally bit into your trembling lips, almost tearing the soft flesh away, his grasp on your neck never loosening, only tightening when you dared to hug his shoulders, snuggling against him.
"Fuck," you cursed as he pulled away to nip at your neck. "You… scared the shit out of me! You psy…"
His hand abruptly covered your mouth, not letting you finish what you were about to say. "You came here because you couldn't forget me, huh? Because you are so fucking miserable in Chicago and no one gives a fuck about you?"
With your eyes shut tight, you whimpered against his palm at the faint physical contact with his hard groin. It was already too much, but then you heard a soft click of the door lock. 'Am I really going to die?' The thought alone made your knees weak. Meanwhile, Bateman was nuzzling against your cheek, inhaling your scent like an animal in rut, and you couldn't do anything, trapped in the strong arms you'd been dreaming about all these months.
The question he asked hung in the air for some time, even after Patrick removed his hand, waiting for your answer, you couldn't speak because… he was right. But to admit it would mean that you had lost. Lost in your own game.
"Why did you run away from me?" The man asked unexpectedly, his whole mood changing from wild to sad, bordering on despair. "Tell me!"
"I thought it would be better for both of us, okay?" You hated yourself for not finding better words, but it was so damn hard to think in a situation like this. "And I still think so."
With a wry grin, the man distanced himself a bit. "And that's why you're here with me… in some random bathroom… in the middle of my wedding?"
It did look familiar. That fleeting moment you gave in to temptation in the Tunnel that changed your life forever and for which you're still paying the price.
"You don't love her, do you?" You didn't even recognize your own voice.
"It's none of your business," Bateman replied before lowering his palm to your hip and squeezing it. "Now get on your knees, I don't have much time."
The audacity of this man was unbearable. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, you stifled a moan from the way he stroked your ass, encouraging you to obey. Biting your lower lip, you remembered how delicious this man tasted—a memory that haunted you every day—you should have resisted, you should have just stopped everything here and now, because there would be no happy ending.
‘I should have, but I can't,’ these six words flashed through your cloudy mind as you slid down the wall to meet the visible bulge in Patrick's tight pants.
"Good, good," he praised, casually unfastening his jacket and then his belt, just as you saw his white suspenders hugging his shoulders so deliciously that you had to hold your breath. "God, if I knew Evelyn was going to give me a wedding present like that, I'd postpone the wedding."
"You're a sick man," you murmured, but he just chuckled. "I hope you know that?"
"So are you.”
There was a small lounge chair in the other corner of the bathroom, and the moment Bateman saw it, you knew what he would do. Smirking mischievously, the man lifted you up with practiced ease and moved you to the chair, sitting down and spreading his toned legs so you could take your place between them. Patrick used all the self-control he had left to undo his pants without actually tearing them apart, his erection jutting out the moment he lowered the confines of his garments.
This scene made you lick your lips with undisguised hunger. Slowly, you leaned down between his wide-open legs and teasingly took his swollen tip into your mouth, then pulled away. "You're going to marry a woman who can't suck you off better than me, aren't you?"
Instead of taunting you back, the man grabbed the back of your head and made you take him deeper until your nose rubbed against his thick pubic hair, but it was still not enough, his cock was too big.
"Ahhh, what's that? Your mouth is too small to take me in?" Bateman commented cheekily as he watched your eyes get wet as you gagged. "You can only use it to say shit, but when it comes to real business…" the man pushed into your mouth again, fixing your head in one place. "…it doesn't seem to be useful."
"Mhmm," you tried to slip out of his grip, but he held you deadly tight. At one point you even wanted to use your teeth, but fortunately a loud commotion from outside attracted Patrick's attention and he let you go. "You…you are so pathetic…" you coughed several times, understanding that your end was near. "Even in a moment like this…you can't keep quiet! Like a fucking chatterbox…"
You wanted to say something else, but the way Bateman's dick pressed against your cheek, the weight of it, the warmth, it was all too overwhelming for both you and him, considering how tense Patrick's face was when you let his erection slide along your jaw as you descended lower to tease his sensitive balls with your tongue.
"Oh-fuck…" The man gasped, tilting his head back to lean against the wall and mumbling something incoherently.
Ashamed of what you were doing, you paused for a second, wondering what consequences awaited the two of you in the future. But all your attempts to stop yourself from falling into the abyss of consuming depravity were mercilessly crushed by reality— Bateman, all spread out for you, his cheeks blushing slightly as he enjoyed the oral pleasure you were giving him. This reality hit too hard. After all, you were enjoying that dick as well.
"So let it happen," you murmured suddenly before you wrapped your wet lips, covered with your saliva and his pre-cum, around his blushing shaft once more, your hands still rubbing his heavy sac. His skin was so soft there that you literally wanted to scream.
"W-what?" The man asked suddenly, as if he had just woken up from the enticing spell. "What are you talking about… are you so cock drunk that your brain can't function?"
At first, dirty talk like that could be really arousing, but now, hearing it for the hundredth time in a row, it was more amusing than hot. Without saying anything, you raised your eyes to him, your sneaky fingers delving deeper between his legs to stroke the rim of his tight muscles. A throaty moan escaped his suddenly dry lips. 'Cock drunk, huh?' You were proud of yourself, having a man like Patrick in a chokehold with your deliberate ministrations.
"Look at you, Bateman, you're such a naughty boy who loves it when someone plays with his ass?" You teased in between heavy gasps, as sucking such a huge cock was quite a challenge. "Does Evelyn even know about this?
Clenching his teeth, he tried to pull at your hair, but you dodged, pressing your finger persistently against his tight asshole before gently probing it, and you could swear to God, if heaven really existed, you wanted Patrick's moans to be music there.
"Uh, you're such a brat, babe," that nickname made you freeze. "This is going to end you one day…" His eyes rolled back into his head as you pushed your finger deeper into him, using a small amount of liquid on it as a lubricant. "(Y/n), you seem to need to bother your hands with something else…" you gave him a questioning look and he grinned in satisfaction, admiring the way his veiny, leaking dick slipped in and out of your lips. "Touch yourself… I know you want to…"
Fucking bastard. Why did he have to say it now? His words involuntarily triggered the memories of the lonely nights you spent in Chicago, masturbating almost every day when you thought of Patrick, telling yourself that he probably did the same. After all, maybe that was true?
As you pulled his cock out of your wet mouth, you quickly undid your belt and then your pants, pulling them down like an obstacle standing between you and mind-blowing pleasure. Locking your eyes with his walnut ones, you got up and tugged at the lapels of his jacket, forcing him to bend over so you could kiss him. Bateman didn't flinch, kissing you back, tasting himself on your lips and sucking on your tongue as you moaned shamelessly. Afterwards, you slipped a finger into his mouth and he licked it obediently before taking it inside.
"Oh, Patrick," you gasped before sitting down. "Why can't it be like this all the time?"
The brown-haired man smiled, exactly that smile that could make you commit a crime, how charming it was, it made you want to cry here and now.
Silently, Patrick leaned down to take your hand and place it between your legs, then he took your other hand and brought it back to his engorged dick, forcing you to resume your ministrations and from that moment on, you just let yourself go.
Rubbing your most sensitive spot, you whimpered and closed your eyes as you jerked him off, feeling the drops of his warm pre-cum dripping down your palm. Your orgasm was looming somewhere near, but it felt like the pleasure of your own hand was not enough. Bateman, as if he could read your mind, suddenly lifted you up by your shoulders, made you straddle him, and in the next moment you let him impale you on his thick cock, giving you the abundance you thought you had lost forever. A loud shriek echoed off the marble walls of the bathroom, a sound that made Patrick grin even more arrogantly as he knew that no one but him could make you feel complete.
He fucking knew it.
Groaning, the man grabbed your hips and set the pace, and at some point you found yourself riding him with pure abandon, literally bouncing on his beefy cock. "A-ahhh, Patrick, yes! Fuck-fuck me, just like that!" You mewled into his ear as he spanked your ass, squeezed your buttocks and spread them. "Mmhm…holy…shit…"
Another slap made you tremble on his lap. "So fucking needy for me," Bateman purred in a husky voice, his hair a mess, you managed to undo his bow tie and several top buttons to stroke his bulging chest. "Argh, you gonna make me cum, babe."
With that, he began to thrust his hips up, meeting yours with a shameless slapping sound. Dumbfounded, you were also so close, but you wanted him to fall first. Passionately rocking back and forth, you wrapped your hands around his neck, catching him off guard.
"You…you missed me just like I missed you…" That was more a statement than a question but the man didn't say anything, he just nodded with his eyes closed as he was completely lost in the embrace of incoming rapture. "SAY IT!" You nearly beat him into his chest. "Say…it…you bastard!"
Your crying compelled him to open his brown eyes which now were so dark, you could draw in them. "Yeah…" Each word was so hard for him to pronounce as his hips began to shake. "…I…I've missed you…too!" Patrick had to hide his face into the crook of your neck and before you knew it, the man bit into your soft flesh to the point of blood.
"A-AWWW, PATRICK!" You whimpered when you felt him exploding inside of you, shooting his hot load and sinking his teeth even deeper, holding you tightly in his strong arms.
"Shhh," the man strived to shush you, licking the fresh wound on your throat. "Just…take it…"
Still trembling, Bateman squeezed your hips so painfully, that you instinctively tried to pull away but he didn't allow you to. Sobbing, you cursed yourself for forgetting how rough he could be or…maybe you simply didn't know about this side of him? By the time Patrick stopped shaking, you were pumped with his seed till the brink, it was pouring out, staining the furniture beneath you, but no one cared. You sat like that for a moment until you began to move again as you still didn't reach your climax. With every buck of your hips against his, you hoped he would understand what you were asking for, but as soon as you reached out to kiss him, the man indifferently pulled away, tapping on your hip.
"Get up," Patrick commanded you, a bit annoyed.
"W-what?"
Bateman didn't repeat, taking you off from his lap before standing up on his feet and zipping his pants. Lost and confused, you sat on the floor, watching him sliding his hair back, opening the faucet and cleaning his face.
What the fuck was that?
"Bateman?" You stammered, finding yourself in the most humiliating position ever.
"You better clean yourself up, too," he commented briefly without looking at you, his voice drenched in venom. "You don't want the guests to think someone brought a hooker here, do you?"
Furrowing your brows, you ran a hand down your tear streaked cheek. "You're going to stop talking to me like that, or…"
"Or what?"
Anger and despair mixed together in a cocktail of pure madness. You wanted to fucking beat this man until he begged for mercy, but unfortunately, it was you sitting on the cold floor with your bare ass, his cum flowing shamelessly between your thighs.
"Fucking scumbag!" You yelled, picking up your shoe to throw it at him, but he quickly moved aside. "You're going to regret this…pathetic…"
Bateman started to say something but was distracted by several female voices. He checked himself in the mirror for the last time and finally spared you with his pitiful look. "You're going to walk around my WEDDING with my SEED inside you. Maybe you should look in the mirror and think about who's really pathetic in this room?"
And then he left.
Being left like that has set your body on fire, your nervous system was on the verge of bursting, but you managed to pull yourself together, gritting your teeth to suppress a loud scream. You felt nauseous, the bite on your neck was bleeding and aching, you were even afraid to touch it. Knowing that the door was now unlocked, you couldn't sit there any longer, so you gathered all the strength you had left to pull yourself up and get dressed. Then you slowly moved to the place where Patrick had been standing moments ago…but it felt like it had been so long ago, as time had stopped. After you cleaned yourself, you were really lucky to find a first aid kit, so you managed to clean your wound as well.
The ceremony had already begun when you finally decided to leave the bathroom. Dazed, you stumbled around like you were drunk. You couldn't remember how you found your way to the main event, where a large altar awaited the newlyweds.
All the guests were in their seats, and you moved stealthily, trying not to attract unwanted attention. The last row of chairs was almost empty, and when you suddenly recognized Timothy Bryce, lonely sitting there, you didn't hesitate to sit next to him.
"Well, well, well," you mused, a little cheered up. "Hello, Bryce."
The dark-haired man almost jumped in his seat when he saw you. "Jesus Christ, (y/n)? What the hell are you doing here?"
"Mmhm, Evelyn invited me."
Timothy visibly grew sadder. " Right…she probably tried to invite all the people in New York."
This sudden change in his demeanor confused you. "Tim? What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
The music began to play exactly when you opened your mouth to ask some more curious questions. Soon, the priest and several other people appeared in the alley. They walked up to the altar, everyone around was excited to see the main stars of this event. And as if that were not enough, some women in front of you began to cheer so loudly that you had to cover your ears.
"Stupid bitches." Tim grumbled as he sat back.
"Craig and David…where are they?"
Bryce pointed to other seats that were almost next to the altar. "They're with their chicks and they want the best seats."
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, avoiding craning your neck when it wasn't needed because it still hurt. "I see…and I thought they were doing coke without you."
"They did."
"Really? And what about you?"
The man sighed. "No coke is enough to get lost."
Now it was even stranger.
Another loud reaction from the guests signaled that something was starting to happen. You have to stand up a little to see the tall figure moving down the alley—it was Bateman, looking like he was not the one who fucked you in the small bathroom an hour ago. The way he smiled at the guests made you want to puke. Timothy noticed your trepidation and narrowed his eyes curiously.
"Are you okay?" He asked, not paying attention to what was happening near the altar. "You look unhealthy."
"I… I'm fine, it's just… it's very hot in here." You wanted to loosen your collar, but then you remembered the bite, so you had to sit like that.
In a few minutes the music changed and then Evelyn appeared, accompanied by her father who led her to the altar where Patrick was waiting for her. You held your breath and bit the inside of your cheek, but you forced yourself to look at the way Bateman took Evelyn's hands in his, touching them with absolute tenderness. A single drop of sweat trickled down your forehead and you probably intended to chew your cheek until it bled, but you didn't care. Nothing mattered now, nothing could hurt you, you felt like a ghost destined to walk the earth in search of its salvation. Only when the priest said that the newlyweds could kiss now, you turned away and so did Tim.
When the official part of the ceremony was over, Patrick and Evelyn walked out of the room towards an unknown destination, you and Bryce just sat there, not even talking, just sitting, as if you had nowhere to go.
"I'll get us some drinks." Timothy suddenly rumbled and stood up as quickly as the idea had occurred to him.
You didn't even have a chance to answer. You closed your eyes and rubbed your face tiredly when you heard a child's voice next to you. Turning sideways, you opened your eyes to see a little girl with a small bag in her hands. "Oh, hi…could you please repeat what I need to do?"
The girl smiled and opened the bag in an inviting gesture. "Pull your hand in and choose your destiny advice!" Giggling, you did as she said. Soon you were unfolding a small piece of paper. "What does it say?" The girl asked with undisguised curiosity.
After you rolled up the paper completely, you could read the text. "Find the courage to face your destiny." You swallowed nervously, on the verge of tears again.
"You didn't like it?" The little girl asked you, her face turning sad as well.
"No! Of course not, thank you very much!" You tried to smile. "You're so sweet, thank you!"
The girl suddenly hugged you. "Please don't be sad!"
And with that, the little child picked up her bag and ran to another person, doing the same thing she did to you. Nervously holding the piece of paper in your sweaty hands, you reread the text until several wet stains appeared on the paper. 'I am such a fool.' Wiping away tears, you heard several footsteps behind you. 'God, what if it's him?'
Excited, you turned to see Tim holding two cocktails. "They don't have anything strong."
You took the drink and watched Bryce sitting next to you. "Thanks Tim."
"No problem," he took a sip before looking at the piece of paper in your hands. "What is this?"
"Uh, nothing, just a childish game." You mumbled and took a sip of your cocktail.
After a minute of total silence, Timothy suddenly rested his arm on the back of his chair. "You know, maybe some coke is not such a bad idea after all," he looked at you, his dull eyes now glinting with a mischievous spark. "And since you're here… do you have any plans?"
"No," you replied frankly. "I… I have no plans, Bryce."
Nodding to himself, the man sat a little closer. "What about you coming to my place?"
Fidgeting in your chair, you wanted to turn to face him, but instead you hissed in pain, how crazy must the man be to leave such a mark? You crumpled the piece of paper in your fist and felt your nails digging into your skin, but still no pain came.
"Why not?" You finally replied, giving Bryce a smile he couldn't ignore as he smiled back.
'When one door closes, another always opens.' Was that what the taxi driver told you yesterday? A quote that had made you cringe in skepticism now played with different colors. But in the end, life was a good thing, even when you thought it was not.
Right?
P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
#american psycho#patrick bateman x reader#patrick bateman imagine#patrick bateman#patrick bateman x female reader#patrick bateman x you#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher x you#slasher smut#patrick bateman smut#patrick bateman headcanon#christian bale smut#christian bale x reader#patrick bateman reader#christian bale#patrick bateman imagines#patrick bateman x male reader
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A Game of Fire and Ice
Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Satoru Gojo x gn!reader
When you get hurt on a mission, Gojo’s full power comes to light and you get a front row seat to seeing just how vicious your boyfriend can be.
Inspired by the lyrics “I don’t wanna scare you but I can and I will and I fucking hate it” in the song “Curses” by food house
Warnings: cussing, violence, blood
Satoru was warm.
His presence around you was like sunshine lighting up your face on the hottest summer day. His love for you burned as if he were the blazing logs in a fireplace on the coldest winter night, or an uncontrollable forest fire in the wilderness.
Satoru was warm.
Gojo was not.
His piercing ice blue stare could make the strongest enemy weak in the knees. If someone ever dared to get in his way, the drunkenness of power he felt as he tore them down, bit by bit, playing with the poor soul akin to a cat toying with a trapped mouse, was a feeling he would never tire of.
Satoru was warm. Gojo was frigid. Brutal, even.
And right now, it was Gojo that swarmed your vision, not Satoru, as you laid in the street, sticky blood pouring from your wounds and coating the pavement in a macabre painting of pure burgundy. The curse you were sent to exorcise had been misranked and maybe if you were more prepared walking into your fight with a special grade, you wouldn’t be on your deathbed right now. As a grade 1 sorcerer, you were by no means weak, but your opponent was formidable, outmaneuvering your techniques and putting up a strong fight, so much so that you were currently splayed out instead of standing up. When Gojo heard you were sent to fight a special grade instead of the simple grade 2 you were expecting, he was quick to teleport to your area as soon as he could. He knew you could handle yourself but figured you wouldn’t mind a helping hand so you could get back to enjoying your day together. And a helping hand was a far cry from what you needed at this point—you needed to see Shoko as soon as possible. As Gojo began his fight with the curse, you tried using reverse cursed technique to stop your bleeding but it was no use. Your energy had dwindled too much and you had no choice but to watch the fight unfold, hoping Gojo could be quick today. You heard the white haired man cackle as he unleashed raw fury upon the curse, pummeling it with cursed energy. Even through your spotted vision, you saw how he released endless amounts of punches at the curse, hitting it with both the blue and red techniques and laughing uncontrollably as the curse desperately tried to evade the attacks.
“What’s wrong? Getting tired?” taunted Gojo, blue eyes radiating a bloodlust like you had never seen before. It chilled you to your very core seeing how ruthless he gets with his enemies. You remembered how just the other night you were cuddled with the tall man, his lithe figure lazily draped over you, laughing about something silly and immature. You could hardly believe it was the same man in front of you, the one showcasing an insatiable desire to cause as much pain and anguish to this curse as he could. It was like he was in his own little world where nothing else mattered but proving his superiority over the curse he could easily squish under his well polished, expensive shoe like a bug.
“Don’t give up yet! We’re having fun, aren’t we?”
Another blast of blue went by and rubble from the now obliterated building came raining down on you, doing nothing to help the throbbing headache you were nursing. You shakily put a hand to your gushing abdomen and pulled it away to see it hadn’t let up a bit. You didn’t have much time but Gojo didn’t seem to notice. Maybe his Six Eyes were telling him you could hold on for a few minutes longer? You didn’t know. All you were aware of was that it was time for Gojo’s game of predator and prey to come to an end.
“Gojo, please… just end it,” you pleaded, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears as he continually jumped around, frustrating the curse he was battling since it couldn’t land a single blow on the man.
“Gojo!”
Nothing.
More rubble fell on you, this time hitting you in the same spot as the curse did, making your wound bleed even more, which you didn’t think was possible.
You let out an anguished groan. “Sa… Satoru. Please.”
That was enough to gain your lover’s attention. The glint of his blue eyes caught your own and it was like he crashed back down to earth and became aware of his surroundings, no longer intoxicated by sheer power. When he finally espied exactly how hurt you were, he opened his domain and killed the curse once and for all, his mind reeling with the fact that you were gravely injured. As much fun as he was having, you were supremely more important to him than continuing to play with the curse that dared to lay a finger on you. As you saw him rip the head off the curse and explode it into tiny pieces, you let out a sigh of relief knowing that thing was dead. The domain closed and your boyfriend ran over to you in a flash; you could tell Satoru was back.
Your Satoru.
So why did you feel uneasy when he loomed over you?
“Y/n, hey, you’ll be alright, just hang in there a sec, okay? We’re going to Shoko.”
As his long fingers reached toward you, your body reacted before you could think rationally about your actions.
You flinched.
You saw the hurt flash across his face, apparent only for a second before it was gone in an instant as he scooped you up. Satoru was feeling a multitude of emotions at that point. He was grateful that the curse was laughably weak and couldn’t land a single blow on him or else he probably wouldn’t have enough energy to teleport you back to the school like he was currently doing. However, he was taken aback by your reluctance to let him near you. Why did you have such a visceral reaction to him reaching for you?
Was it you being afraid of him accidentally hurting you with all your injuries?
Or was it you afraid of him hurting you…
On purpose?
You had fallen unconscious as he hauled you into Shoko’s office, laying your body on a table so she could heal you. He took a seat on an extra chair, a frown settling on his typically smiling face. Beside the glaringly obviously shitty fact that his partner was seemingly now afraid of his touch (or him as a whole), he hated seeing you like this, bruised and bloodied, especially due to a clerical error. You shouldn’t have been sent there at all, certainly not by yourself anyway, and if he hadn’t gotten there when he did… Satoru shook his head to clear the thought.
“They’ll be fine. If you had waited any longer, they wouldn’t have made it.”
Shoko rested a hand on Satoru’s shoulder, his gaze set on your unmoving body.
“They’ll wake up soon. I’m going for a smoke.”
A few minutes after she left, you began to stir. The cold table jolted you awake and you sat up in an instant, wondering if you were still in the midst of a battle. When you saw you were in a sterile room and Satoru’s blindfold over his eyes, you registered that you were safe and remembered the fight was over.
“Glad to see you’re awake. I was missing seeing those beautiful eyes of yours,” Satoru said, but his tone was anything but playful.
“Satoru, I-”
“Why did you flinch?”
You were quiet, stunned at his outright question and it prompted him to ask again, urgency lacing every word.
“When I reached for you back there. Why did you flinch?”
The truth had to come out now, there was no way for you to avoid answering. Not when he was staring you down, the blindfold doing nothing to lessen the intensity.
“Satoru, you… you scared me.”
The frown was back on his face. “What, like because you thought I was going to hurt you? Or like… hurt you, hurt you?”
His heart was pounding a mile a minute. He’d manage to keep most people at arm’s length his entire life, only letting a certain few get close to him as to avoid getting hurt. Now, waiting to hear your admission, he regretted ever daring to fall in love or thinking he could get some semblance of a happy ending in this messed up world.
“I… I just… I didn’t know at the time.”
You couldn’t bear to look at him, ashamed of your confession, so you kept your eyes on your fiddling hands.
He stood up with a loud screech of the chair as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair.
“Fuck, my own partner doesn’t even know if I’m going to hurt them,” he said, a bitter chuckle leaving his throat. “I can save you from a curse that’s about to kill you and yet you still don’t feel safe if I’m around.”
“What? Satoru, stop, I had just gotten my ass kicked by a special grade and I was delirious from blood loss. That’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it?” he cried out, desperation leaking from him like a broken faucet. “I could kill you right now without breaking a sweat. I have a power that no sorcerer or curse can match. I can annihilate entire countries if I wanted to, y/n, and you’re telling me you’d be completely fine taking me back to your apartment for dinner and a movie right now? You think my abilities cease when I’m not actively fighting a curse?”
“You scared me back there because you were murderous, Satoru,” you seethed, “and because not everyone is some god amongst men like you. I watched my boyfriend toy with a special grade curse like it was nothing. The same curse that nearly took my life and left me bleeding out on the ground, alone. So yes, at that moment, I was scared. I’m sorry for upsetting you, I-”
“See? That’s the thing. I don’t want to scare you but I can and I will and I fucking hate it! Don’t you see how shitty that makes me feel? You’re the one person that I never want to feel afraid of me.” Satoru’s voice cracked and he took a deep breath, calming himself down a little before continuing. “I went ballistic because that curse almost killed you. It needed to suffer for trying to take away the thing I hold dearest in this world. I don’t know what it’s like to lose in a battle of jujutsu, and I probably never will. I just know that I want to keep you safe and I will do whatever I must to make that happen.”
“I get that, Satoru, believe me,” you replied, finally looking at him. You could tell he was distraught and you understood why. You couldn’t imagine the weight he held on his shoulders as the strongest, not to mention how his (justifiably) large ego made it difficult to empathize and connect with others at times. However, you knew that the man in front of you was not the killing machine that relished in the pain he inflicted on others. The man in front of you was your loving boyfriend, the one who sent you funny cat videos and pouted when he couldn’t buy copious amounts of sweets at the store. Even though they were the same person, you knew that there was a time and place for both iterations of the man and they would both do everything in their power to keep you happy and safe. You reached out your hand to his cheek and this time it was him who flinched as your delicate touch landed on his skin.
“You are prideful, egotistical, and often arrogant. You don’t take criticism well or understand that there’s a time and place for jokes. You like to show off your immense power and yes, oftentimes it scares the shit out of me.”
He raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re not making me feel any better.”
“But,” you said, your thumb softly swiping along his jaw, “I know underneath all of that lies a good heart. You are a good man, Satoru, one that I’m proud to love. I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, okay? In that moment, when I flinched, it wasn’t only you specifically, but the situation as a whole that I was scared of. You’re a total menace when you’re mad.”
You gave him a kiss on the cheek and he leaned into it ever so slightly.
“But you were also totally hot as you ripped the head off that curse for me. I trust you with my life, forever and always. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t.”
Satoru accepted your apology internally, opting to instead do what he did best—crack a joke and lighten the mood.
“It was agonizing watching my favorite cuddle buddy pull away from me, I felt like I needed Shoko to heal my own wounds,” he said, pouting. You shook your head and let out a small laugh, making Satoru genuinely smile for the first time that day. He may not do everything right in a relationship, or completely understand how to relate to other people, but he’d be damned if he let you die before he could try to learn.
#gojo x reader#gojo x reader angst#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru x you#jjk x y/n#jjk fanfic#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader angst
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