#just a thought rolling around in my brain recently | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

riddles-n-games · 2 days

Text

A/N: Hello friends! Here it is, the long awaited fake dating fic I've teased since March. I'm so sorry for the wait, this fic took too long to truly develop in my head and while I had fun, I'm mad I didn't get it out sooner. Enjoy!

“-and then?”

“And the-what do you think I did, Mystery Girl?” He eyed her smugly, the bastard, and tapped the side of his head. “Hmm? Use that smart brain of yours.”

“...Jamie.” There was warning in her voice. Her patience would not be tested today; Xander’s experiment in robotics club already did that. But Jameson’s eyes were alight with mischief and there were the beginnings of a smirk playing at his lips.

“Then… I told her off.”

Avery frowned at him, giving a look. The look; Alisa taught her well. It did the job and the younger Hawthornes were secretly afraid at how frighteningly accurate it was. As though it was Alisa herself. “No, you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”

“...”

“Jameson! Seriously, tell me you didn’t.” She looked at him shocked, hand on his shoulder as he shook his head with an amused huff. “Jamie, I’m being serious here!” She swatted at his chest. The boy was asking for it and trouble was the only call he always answered. Apart from hers, of course. And his brothers, too, but that was a given.

He laughed. “Ok, ok, MG. I didn’t do it… or did I?”

Avery stopped beside him, crossing her arms and sighing exasperatedly as she waited for his laughter to subside. A moment later, he stopped and looked at her, grinning cheekily. For some reason, her mouth went a bit dry. It was unfair how infuriatingly handsome he looked. Wait, where is this goi-

“Turvy, you okay? Aves?” Nicknames; his way of coaxing her out of her thoughts and in rarer cases, expressing his concern. She blinked out of her trance and smiled at him.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She watched as his semi-concerned expression morphed into a playful smirk again. Ever the chaotic chameleon.

“Hold on. Are you checking me out? After all this time, the moment has come. I finally meet the standards of Miss Not A Chance to get a look over. My day is made.” Rolling her eyes as he let out another lighthearted laugh, she put a hand on his arm and pulled.

“Come on, let’s go. Let me walk you to your next class before you take another wrong turn to a stairwell that conveniently leads to the roof. Actually, you haven’t even gotten your textbook yet so let’s head to your locker first which just so happens to be on our way.”

But as she took a step, he tugged right back and twirled her into him. He leaned in close, whispering, “It’s okay, Heiress. I don’t mind. I know I’m good looking and that leaves some girls flustered.” It was in the silence that followed that she knew with certainty he had a shit-eating grin spreading slow and steady across his face, thinking himself so clever. Instead of rolling her eyes like she usually did, she shivered, feeling very affected for some reason. Her heart beat faster at the subconscious reaction.

When he moved back, the sudden tension in the air broke and she could breathe again, taking a quick look around the hall. Thankfully, there weren’t that many students, just a few closing up their lockers and making their way to their next classes.

She knew they were technically fake dating but their deal was still fairly recent and they hadn’t come out in public yet as a couple. Maybe she was used to his proximity since they were good friends but this was new. They displayed physical affection for each other, especially him as it was his love language, but this felt intimate and different. Avery wasn’t quite sure what to make of it and why the sudden effect he had on her.

She shook her head and then looked at him, punching him playfully in the shoulder. “Nice try, Hawthorne, but that’s not happening.”

He shrugged. “Worth a shot.” This time she did roll her eyes and pointed to his locker. “You, physics textbook, now.” He groaned dramatically before approaching his locker, looking back at her forlornly with a slight pout as he opened and slowly dragged out the wretched book. But his eyes caught her attention. Despite the funny expression, his eyes held that intensity when he was wholly focused on something, usually a puzzle and this time, her. Trying to shake off the feeling, she looked up in response to his theatrics as he proceeded to close the door.

It was a bit overwhelming, this new focus he had on her, something she picked up on since he started spending more time with her than ever before. He seemed to have a constant need to distract himself from the anger and pain that Emily caused him but it didn’t feel purely based on that. There was a shift. She noted how intently he paid attention to her post break up and in the moments when he thought she wouldn’t see, she saw the little smiles or the way he would just watch her contently as they worked on homework. And she knew that something had changed but only a little while ago did she start feeling the effects of it herself. Although it scared her, she didn’t find herself shying away from it either.

Not wanting to dwell on it anymore, Avery took hold of his arm as soon as he secured the lock and tugged. “Come on, let’s go.”

Jameson frowned at her, “You’re no fun, you know that?”

She turned to him and smiled mischievously. “I know, that’s why you keep me around. If you haven’t known by now, I’m your unofficial handler. I’m just not paid for it although Grayson and Nash probably thank me for doing so. You and Xander.”

“Oof, now you’re just not being fair. That’s playing dirty, Aves.” She shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say? I learned from the best.”

“I think they taught you a little too well,” he grumbled but Avery simply patted his hand and pulled him along. As they walked he started to mess with her a bit by pretending to struggle against her, pleading with her to go hang with him on the roof for a match of rooftop golfing. “I’ll even let you take the first two turns.” She snorted. They both knew she didn’t need a head start to beat him. When Avery Grambs had her mind set on something, the world was at her feet.

This was them; jokes, teasing, nicknames with interesting back stories, light hearted jabs with meaning, comforting light touches, secret signals, deep talks late at night when no one would hear, solving puzzles and riddles no one else knew how to do, being so in tune with each other’s expressions… Avery loved it. It’s part of what kept her grounded in the past year. She drank in the moment, Jameson’s beaming face, her hands around his arm, the sound of her laughter. Yet she didn’t have enough time to revel in it because there was a storm coming their way.

A red hurricane was making her way down the hall towards them and Avery knew then, peace was lost. Jameson froze beside her at the sight.

Emily Laughlin; golden girl of Heights Country Day, darling of seemingly every gala in Texas, “the Hawthorne keeper”, and now, Jameson’s ex. In Avery’s mind, she was the Strawberry Menace that somehow managed to damper her mood every time she appeared. It was the equivalent of dropping one of Libby’s superior chocolate swirl cupcakes or finding the scone plate void of blueberry ones with only lemon-flavored leftovers in Xander’s wake.

Avery had a motto in school; stay quiet and out of trouble but remain observant. Like anyone else, she knew the hierarchy set in secondary but after moving to Texas and enrolling at a private school, the differences between her old life and new one couldn’t have been more like day and night. The power dynamics of rich kids in a private school system were blown to new proportions as so many intricate details about one’s wealth, connections, and history seemed to play a role in status. This certainly had affected her introduction and integration but somehow she was still able to slip under the radar, at first.

And it was nice, taking back at least a piece of her old reality, and she relaxed, ready to be the quiet one in the corner again. In New Castle, she mostly kept to herself and never really liked drama which was why she tried to keep out of it. It wasn’t that she was shy but there just never seemed like anyone could be there for her in the way Max did, even with her halfway across the country. However, that wouldn’t be the case anymore, especially with the Hawthornes as regular company.

They were all charming, witty, funny, adventurous, some more than others but none without their quirks. Yet, despite the wealth, their way of living, and larger than life characters, they all managed to work their way into her and Libby’s lives. And little by little they also managed to worm their way into Avery’s heart and they wouldn’t leave. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Although, there were downsides even to being friends with Hawthornes. Avery got along best with Xander and Jameson but that also meant where those two were, there was Emily and her posse. Until recently.

With Emily having been found out to be dating Jameson and his older brother Grayson at the same time with them both blissfully unaware, all hell had broken loose. The boys were affected badly; Gray had taken it the worst but Jameson was in a full blown fury. Out right he told her that he was breaking up with her and that if she were smart she would leave Grayson alone too. Avery had been very proud of him for that, taking up the mantle to protect him and his brother’s honor even though it was equally difficult for him.

Of course, Emily did not take that message well and for the last two months she’d been trying to do whatever she could to make them come around. The audacity the girl had was astonishing and despite a tarnished reputation, she would still stoop so low; Avery may have despised her but marveled her tenacity. Sometimes she wished she had more of that herself. But Jameson had put his foot down and was holding it firmly in place which unfortunately meant that with every new attempt Emily became more unbearable. Like now.

As the Menace neared, Jameson hooked an arm around her and she felt him tracing two adjacent lines on her wrist then squeezing it. Over and over again. He was trying to tell her something. They started that a few months ago, before the breakup, as code for when there was a clue one of them found during Saturday games and didn’t want to alert the others to it. His brothers hadn’t caught onto that yet. As for this code, she knew the squeeze was reassurance as in “Don’t worry.” but the first part confused her. Was that an L, a V, or a check mar- Check mark; as in “All good.” He was telling her that he’s good and can handle it.

Right as she finished that thought, he spoke up. “Hi Emily. What can we do for you today?” His tone was controlled, conversational, and his composure steady but Avery sensed the underlying unease. What he was really trying to say was, No, I can��t help you, leave me alone. And can you despawn from the map while you’re at it?

“Jameson.” The Laughlin girl stopped a few meters from them, sounding hesitant and giving her best withered look. Avery would give her props for the effort but after being witness to this act more than a dozen times in the past two weeks, it was cumbersome. “Can we… talk?”

“Sure! The weather’s great today. Might take my new bike out for a spin on the track. Actually, the weather’s been treating us pretty well for the last while, right Aves?”

She side-eyed him but nodded in agreement. “Yup.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed slightly at her but she kept her demeanor in place. “Actually, I was hoping we could do so in private?”

Jameson grinned wickedly. “No, we may not. But if you do have something worthwhile to say, you can say it in front of me and Avery.”

“I see… You’ve already moved on.” Her tone started to sound sour. “Yes, and we’re very happy, thank you very much. Is that all?” He’s having fun with this.

“I always thought you two were a little too close for my taste even when we were together. Guess I should’ve known this would happen eventually.” Playing the victim card… Nice.

“Well, yeah. We never made our friendship a secret. It was pretty out in the open from the start that we got off pretty well since she moved here. You know, the way we used to when we were friends, Em. Hmm? Remember that? But oh, that was before a certain nasty betrayal occurred on your part, might I add.” Now he was just taking it too far. Avery wondered if she would have to tame the flames soon but Jameson paid no heed as she subtly elbowed his side. Instead, he simply grabbed her arm and wove his fingers around hers. She tried not to show her surprise as her heart sped up again.

Emily growled, “I never meant for it to happen that way Jamie-” “Jameson.” “Right, Jameson. I was new to this and had feelings for both of you. Believe me, I was very conflicted about the whole thing so I-”

“So you just decided to date both of us in secret without the other knowing for six months while we poured out the best of us into farces of relationships and you stabbed us with a knife in the back in return for our goodness. Gotcha. Nice talk,” he nodded along while winking mockingly and Emily glared back. The tension was just getting worse and Avery sensed her time was coming.

“No, I’m sorry that happened. It shouldn’t have happened that way at all. But it did, I recognize that was very wrong of me but I really was trying to settle on one of you; it’s just you’re both so great and I was lucky to have even just one of you paying attention to me.” Cue the tears, roll the credits; Avery was rolling her eyes internally.

“I’m gonna call cut. A word of critique; bull. Shit. You are one of the most attractive girls in school, you know this, so don’t pull that with me. Second of all, didn’t you hear, love triangles especially with brothers aren’t in style anymore. Not since Damon and Stefan on Vampire Diaries. And much less cheaters at that. But you just find yourself the exception as you always do, don’t you Emily?”

She scoffed. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you. You were basically emotionally cheating on me with her. Don’t try to deny it. I saw it; the talks, the inside jokes, the fact she was invited to elusive Saturday games much sooner than I ever was, how she was always on your team, and your weird handshakes. You were so touchy feely with her.”

Jameson quirked an eyebrow. “You know, for someone who claims that she’s all-seeing, clearly you’re blind. I kept a very respectful distance with Avery throughout our relationship and only did those handshakes when we were in public after accomplishing an assignment or a puzzle. We teamed up a lot because you almost always wanted to be with Gray despite my protests. Oftentimes we also didn’t share the same time slots for classes although I wanted to be with you and because sometimes Avery was, I wanted to help her integrate. It was something that my grandfather and Nash asked me and Xan to do. Our talks-” he sighed. “Look, I can go on but you would just turn that on me when you’re the one at fault here. End of story.”

“Oh, so you're her mouthpiece now? Miss Quiet As A Mouse can’t speak for herself; cat got your tongue?” That last remark was directed at her. Jameson wanted to protest but she put a hand on his chest. She could handle it.

While Avery avoided Emily like the plague and did her best to be polite when she had no choice but to interact with her, she did not tolerate mean girls. She had a voice and she wasn’t about to let a discounted rip off Regina George ruin her day by having her run her mouth. Plus, she’s being a disgrace to the real one. Yes, Max made her watch some cult classics back in seventh grade and it was one of the films she actually enjoyed but she would never tell her that.

“What Jameson just said is all true. Plus, I was getting the signals from you. Don’t think for a second that I missed a single of your dirty looks when we hung out in a group. I knew you considered them yours. But last I checked, I often declined his company and was more so with your sister, Xander, and still I preferred my sister most to all of you. I’m not one to stray from my zone that often and it was because of Mr. Hawthorne that the boys got so involved with me. You were just an unfortunate addition that couldn’t find harmony because of your jealousy. Rest assured, I wasn’t ever after your crown but I did care about them as a concerned friend.” There. That was her piece in the matter.

Emily laughed brokenly, letting her very fake tears stream down her fair cheeks as she swiped at them in a manner of attempting to regain composure. It was laughable. “If you think like that Av-ery, then you’re the biggest convincing liar I’ve ever seen. You-”

“Choose your next words carefully. Because next time there won’t be any talking or pleasantries of any sort; we’ll walk right on by. And if I hear you’re harassing Avery, consider yourself on the receiving end of a restraining order.” Jameson’s words resounded in the hall as everyone around them was intently listening to the argument. Emily was always one for a show and while Jameson wasn’t one to care, he was aware that Avery was. It felt debilitating as she felt eyes on her but she tried not to pay attention as she was sort of privy to this already at major events when she was photographed with Xander at comps or charities as a special guest of the Hawthorne family. Yet school felt like a different story because of how life worked with teenagers where everything was under even more scrutiny.

“Fine!” she spat. “Just know I loved you but she most certainly doesn’t. She will never appreciate you the way I did and trust me that this is gonna be a short-lived relationship so when she leaves you high and dry, don’t come crawling back to me. All she’s gonna prove to be is a giant fake that wants you for your money; a filthy gold digger from dirt poor New Castle. A nobody! She and her sister!”

Avery didn’t bat an eye. Although she felt anger flaring inside her at the jab at Libby, the most she did was send Emily a concentrated stare that dared her to say it again. However, it was her best friend that took that most to heart in the moment.

He wasn’t having it. His facial features were strained; mouth pursed in a grim line and long gone was the cool façade he kept up for the sake of fake pleasantry. She saw the telltale signs of irritation; clenched jaw, left eyebrow twitching ever so slightly, eyes glazed over with a steely edge and he was biting at his lips. His hands were balled into fists and his body was as taut as a bowstring, ready to strike out. He’s pissed. Avery couldn’t tell if the situation would escalate to the point it ended in a fight, if he was going to blow a fuse or just walk away.

She’d be surprised if he didn’t put up some more arguing, though, as of late, there were quite a few instances where he simply left the scene. Maturity maybe, but this is still Jameson we’re talking about.

And yet, what he did instead was something she never saw coming. He turned her way but before she could ask what was wrong or register what was happening, his lips were firmly against hers. He simply dove down and kissed her. Just like that. No words, no signal, no nothing. All she got was a moment to see his determined gaze turning on her, no prior warning, and then he was kissing the breath out of her.

Avery froze; her brain was shutting down and she didn’t know how to move her limbs. Jameson, thankfully, wasn’t phased and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Her body was still on autopilot but she knew her feet were shuffling forward and while it took a moment longer, she finally managed to react.

Her hands found their way to his chest, grasping at the lapels of his blazer. She felt fuzzy, he was warm and solid against her and his cologne smelled nice and he was so good at this and… For what felt like a small eternity, he kissed her and she was started to relax. But as Avery was about to reciprocate, he pulled away just as quickly. Opening her eyes right after was a mistake because she was blindsided by the disorientated feeling overwhelming her. Is this the infamous Cloud 9?

She was still clutching at the blazer, her grip having gone lax, and her other arm fell slack by her side. The only reason she realized she was still holding onto him was because he’d wrapped his hand around hers, squeezing it to give her reassurance but even that was over fast.

“Come on, Avery.” When he said her name, the world came rushing in and subsequently, she became aware of everyone else, including Emily herself, gawking at them. Suddenly, she wasn’t so disoriented. Although she was still trying to recover from that surprise kiss, her mind was catching up and the underlying sense of embarrassment and horror were coming back in full force. If her cheeks weren’t flushed before, they were now as she was unable to look away from everyone surrounding her. But Jameson decided they weren’t sticking around.

He grabbed her hand and tugged lightly, pulling her after him. She allowed herself a second more to linger on their audience before turning forward, focusing her eyes on the back of Jamie’s head. In her semi-dazed state, it was probably the better decision in favor of her standing there frozen with her mouth open and eyes widened like a confused fish.

As Jameson dragged her away from the scene, away from Emily, the onlookers and the uncomfortable intensity of their stares that seemed to follow them down the hall, only then did reality wake her to the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. They were just friends… weren’t they?

She was just being a good friend helping him out by agreeing to fake date him to get his ex-girlfriend off his back because she had simultaneously dated him and his brother and kept both their relationships a secret, right?

If so, then why did he have to go and kiss her like that? They’d agree to kissing, yes, but friends didn’t kiss that way. It felt more passionate than necessary, like there was something deeper he was trying to convey than just his frustration and fury. Admittedly, she did like the kiss just a little more than she expec-Wait, she wasn’t getting a crush on her friend, was she?

Oh no. This wasn’t in the rules.

A/N: Thanks for reading. I will be announcing my next fic(s) for release very soon. Reminder, all my fics are also on AO3 for you to read if you prefer that platform under the pseudonym ThePuzzledWriter. Bye!

#avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #averyjameson #averyjameson fics #the inheritance games fanfics #tig fanfiction #the inheritance games #tig

27 notes · View notes

missmeganlee · 1 year

Text

A question that I constantly think about when it comes to Young Royals is "how much do Wille and Simon actually know about each other's personal lives?" Simon obviously knows more about Wille's personal life as Crown Prince Wilhelm, but he has no idea what goes on behind the scenes in the royal family and can't fully understand the kind of pressure that puts on Wille. And this plot point was explored a little bit in s2, however, Wille knows next to nothing about Simon's personal life besides the basics. He know who Simon's best friends are and who his immediate family is. But he doesn't know Simin's history with his father, and this reflects what we as the audience know about Simon's personal life as well.

In s3 I'd like to see this as one of the main plot points for Wilmon. They're finally together, but still very much in the "getting to know each other" stage of their relationship. Learning stupid things about each other like what their favorite color is, what their comfort movie is, etc. Just learning each other's general likes and dislikes, but also getting into the deeper shit like experiences that have shaped them into who they are.

And if that's the case with a least a part of Wilmon's storylines in s3, I think one of their big fights could be that Simon doesn't let Wille in. Simon has a tendency to shut down and hide his true emotions when something happens to him, which I think comes from being parentified and feeling the need to be the man of the house, so his walls go up to put on a strong front. I can see them having an argument in the piano room after Wille tells Simon something the monarchy wants/requires them to do that they don't want to do. And while Wille's trying to discuss the best way to go about the situation, Simon shuts down because he feels powerless against the monarchy. To which Wille says "Simon, please just let me in. Tell me what you're feeling right now." Maybe I've been reading too much fic (no such thing as too much fic lol), but I can hear that in Edvin's voice.

#just a thought rolling around in my brain recently #young royals #young royals season 3 #young royals predictions #prince wilhelm #simon eriksson #wilmon

428 notes · View notes

tflaw · 9 months

Note

had this sudden thought and i cannot for the life of me get it out of my mind: fontaine law stating very specifically that public nudity and encounters of sexual nature are strictly prohibited, but wriothesley and reader can't help themselves and get it on, even if it's in a secluded place. unfortunately they're found by neuvillette who was passing by, but he agrees not to press charges against the two if he gets to join in on the fun 🫣

౨ৎ ⋆˚ far from over ft. wrio & neuvilette + afab!reader. unprotected. creampie (like creampie). anal sex. vaginal sex. titty sucking. public sex. doggy. double pen. overstim. mindbreak. drool. mouth hooking (idk what it’s called). not proofread!

a cognizance of the rules is equivalent to owning the knowledge on how to break them. this has been proven by none other than the outstanding lord of meropide, wriothesley, when he pulled you in an alley during the dead of night just to fuck you brainless against the concrete walls. you have your back arched properly for him, hands pressed against the stone walls, as he pumps his hips— tight balls clapping against your wet and creamy pussy— to mangle your insides with his greedy cock that couldn’t wait until you’re behind closed doors.

manic with desire, you and your cunt cannot stop drooling. you’re fucked stupid at this point, eyes rolling heavenwards, with his finger hooked over the side of your mouth, pulling the muscle to reveal your teeth.

you would have fucked each other to the brim; with him jamming his cum inside your pretty pussy, and you, milking his balls dry. but the night has proven to be your enemy, and your stubborn need to sate your lust has come to bite you back.

now you find yourself before the chief justice. your pussy pulsing around the rim, sore from wriothesley’s thick girth. the recent and interrupted fucking have your brains scrambled upside down; you could barely register the disappointment bubbling out of monsieur neuvilette’s lips.

however, you’re not past comprehension. no, not at all. because you have put the pieces together when the chief justice, known for his unyielding pursuit of following the rules, divulges that no charges will be pressed to your name if you’d let him fuck you, too.

“t… too big!” you mewl on top of neuvilette, biting your lips, shuddering at the fat cocktip kissing your pussy hole. “will not fit, monsieur!”

“it will fit,” he whispers firmly, forehead bedewed in sweat, “because i said so.”

“our balls,” wrio pitches in with a certain depth to his voice, lining his drooling tip onto your asshole, “they are going to touch.”

your face falls in the crook of neuvilette’s neck. his scent drive you dizzy— along with the successful popping of his chubby cocktip into your cunt. “archons… so big… can’t fit—” your eyes cross as wrio pops his cock into your asshole. saliva begins to accumulate in the bottom of your tongue. gritting your teeth hasn’t helped much in keeping the drool inside your mouth.

“you are doing incredible, darling,” neuvilette croons, his own eyes turning heart-shaped because of the warmth provided by your cunt. “you feel amazing.”

“we’ll make you feel so good, love. be sure to take us all in, hm?” wrio leans to murmur in your ear.

they may have been speaking nonsense, for when they both thrust their cocks in unison, all your ability to think like a person has been effaced with ferocity. they have turned you into a blabbering mess, whimpering and mewling, at times screaming, when their slick-covered shafts hit your right spots. you begin to cry from the stimulation, sobbing at the sheer pleasure shredding your sanity in pieces.

neuvilette pumps his flushed cock while grabbing and spreading your ass; as though he’s in a competition against wrio who’s fucking your asshole with the same unwavering intensity. their rounded balls, filled with cum, shining with your arousal, wipes against each other as they fuck you with a rhythm.

you’ve pierced the night with a shriek when neuvilette swirls his tongue around your nipple, sucking and twiddling the other with his fingers. over and over, they have shriveled you into tiny little pieces by delivering continuous climax your way. brain mushed to bits, boneless, and fucked stupid— you begin laughing and crying from the stimulation.

wrio surrenders first; busting the fattest nut that has driven him chasing for air as the thick liquid squirts out of his plump head and into your perfect asshole, filling it with white globules to the point of seeping and flowing down neuvilette’s cock and balls.

neuvilette, on the other hand, plugs your womb with unstoppable current of viscid cum. his shaft beats like a heart while shooting his cum straight up your insides. it went on for minutes— you were almost inclined to believe that it would go on forever. with the amount of semen he’s puffed up your pretty cunt, the liquid also began to leak and mix with wrio’s. globes upon globes of white cum has adorned the duvet where both men fucked your brains out.

“are we off the hook?” wrio asks neuvilette while cuddling you in his arms, running his fingers along your bare spine.

neuvilette’s eyes flash. “i’m afraid not. the night has just begun, after all.”

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #neuvilette smut #neuvilette x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader

3K notes · View notes

kechiwrites · 1 month

Text

boom, recluse erotica writer simon and avid fan reader who gets to meet their idol in person.

His assistant leaves the two of you alone, and the silence is stifling. You fidget with the book in your hands, the one you wanted signed. It's well worn, spine broken at least ten times over, pages dried wavy from a beach trip two years ago. a tear at the corner of the trade paperback's cover. You'd wanted to get a new copy, but they'd been out of print everywhere.

You drag your toe back and forth over scratchy carpet and listen to the sound of his faucet dripping. What noise his pencil makes as it scratches over paper. He doesn't look at you, just continues to work like you're not even there. He's huge. Bigger than you'd thought he be, and blond. Broad shoulders and pale, inked skin hunched over a work desk that seems just a little too small for a man with his build. From what you can see, a laptop lies to the right of him, bulky and humming with life, only recently snapped shut, fast enough that the author hadn't the time to shut it down properly.

Despite the awkwardness, the silence, excited butterflies bat back and forth in your stomach when you think about what the outdated device stores; half finished manuscripts, character or plot charts, his inner musings?

The sensation, the curiousity, goads you into speaking. Finally.

"Mr. Spectre? I'm a huge fan." You sound breathless, kind of desperate. but you were. you are. He's your favourite author. His books are your constant companion. And yeah, it's smut. But it's good. His prose makes your skin tingle from phantom touch, makes your pulse rage, your insides clench.

"D'you touch yourself to my books?" He must've turned around while you were staring at the floor, because when you whip your head up at the intrusive, inappropriate question, L.T. Spectre is staring at you.

"Pardon?" You sputter in disbelief.

And he rolls his eyes.

"Y'said you were a fan. Do you touch yourself to my books?" He enunciates the question clearly, Iike he thinks you're stupid. His accent is thick, gruff. An unexpected but near-perfect compliment to the pitch of his voice.

"Wh-what?" Your brain stutters and stalls like an engine past it's prime, unable to speak the truth but refusing to lie too.

"Which ones?" His black honey eyes are sharp, poring, behind his rectangle wire glasses. His gaze sweeps over you, head to toe and back again, lingering on the novel clutched tightly in your hands, before he turns back to his work, sniffing once.

"It's the ones with praise, huh? You seem like the type to need it."

nasty, nasty man probably dangles drafts and manuscripts over your nose in exchange for a few hours of you under his desk.

#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader #simon riley x black reader #ghost x black reader #simon riley x you #ghost imagine #kechiwrites #cod x reader #ghost call of duty

742 notes · View notes

andypantsx3 · 1 month

Text

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑖

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 4.7k | chapter 2 of 4

Then

The Todoroki house was the most interesting place you had ever been.

At home it was just you and your mom, and most of the time she was working, or recovering from working, but the Todoroki house was packed with children from wall to wall. There was almost never a dull minute—except when Todoroki Enji came home and everyone got stiff and weird—but when he wasn’t around, you found you preferred the Todoroki mansion to the loneliness of your own empty house.

Touya seemed to sense this, and deigned to invite you over often, enough that you found yourself following him home after school at least once a week.

After the first time, you’d been introduced to his other siblings, Fuyumi and Natuso, who were both much nicer than Touya, and notably far more talkative. Shouto was a near-constant too, almost always propped on his mother’s hip when you arrived home, and always eager to be handed off to you, enough that you could tell Touya was annoyed.

“You’re not even related,” he complained, and you hid a smile at his barely-couched jealousy.

“I’m just better than you,” you told him, sticking your tongue out, dodging when he tried to grab it. You’d never had siblings, and you’d been forced to learn quickly that nothing was off-limits to people with younger siblings. Revenge would always be exacted.

Even when Shouto got older, old enough to talk in complete sentences and toddle about on his own, he seemed to prefer your company. You and Touya were almost never left alone to play on your own, Shouto always in the room with you, almost velcroed to your side.

He was on the floor next to you in the living room on one such occasion, Touya absolutely destroying you in Super Mario, when Rei called Touya in from the kitchen.

Touya rolled his eyes, pausing and flinging his controller at your head with the manner of someone who hoped it actually connected. “Don’t restart while I’m gone or I’ll kill you.”

You saluted him as he stomped out, taking a minute to stretch out from where you’d sat hunched over your controller. You bumped Shouto as you did, and he looked up at you from his coloring book, where he was shading in a pair of penguins in hot pink.

“Nice choice,” you told him, and Shouto looked a little bit like he was trying not to preen.

“Izuku in my class says penguins mate for life, like us,” he said, authoritatively.

You blinked, your brain snagging on the like us. Alphas, betas, and omegas could mate for life, and were generally expected to, but that didn’t always quite play out if you didn’t find your life mate. Your mother was a near-hand example, your father having left her while you were still in swaddling clothes, only to pass away a short few years later. They hadn’t been life mates, you’d come to realize recently—though your mother still believed in them. You hoped she’d find hers still, someday.

You thought maybe, however, that you were not going to hold out hope for your own, if it was as tricky as it seemed.

“You know not everyone does, right?” you asked, peering down at Shouto.

Wide, guileless eyes stared back up at you. Shouto had lost a little of his baby fat recently, but absolutely none of his sweetness.

“Who does not?” he demanded, sitting back on his haunches.

You fiddled with the controller in your fingers, wondering suddenly if you should have brought this up with him. “Some people. My parents didn’t,” you said, cautiously.

Shouto’s eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch. “Your parents?”

You shook your head. “Sometimes people don’t find them even after all of the mating runs.”

Shouto did not look pleased with this. His eyes roved over you, pinning on you with a sort of sudden, unnerving intensity. “Sometimes people go on mating runs. And their life mate is not there because they are too young to go yet.”

You blinked, surprised by the specificity of this conclusion. “Sometimes, probably, yeah.”

Shouto’s tiny frown deepened, and he carefully arranged himself up against your side. “You will wait though, right?”

Your hand found its way unthinkingly into his hair, ruffling it. He was a sweet kid. “I mean, people usually go through more than one mating run, right?”

Shouto pressed more insistently into your side. “You will keep going until your life mate is there, though.”

You had an image of yourself, greying and eighty, slowly wobbling on your cane through the preserve. You suppressed a laugh. “I’ll go as I can until I age out, how about that?”

Shouto nodded, satisfied. His crayon resumed on the penguins, fiery pink streaking across the page. “I will be there,” he pronounced definitively.

His decisive tone startled a laugh out of you. You grinned down at him, unable to help the urge to ruffle his hair again. “I’ll stick around until we can run together. Although you better get good at climbing trees.”

Shouto blinked, his mouth pursing in puzzlement. “Trees,” he repeated to himself.

You nodded. “If I’m not an alpha, and I have to hide somewhere, I’m going to find the best tree in the preserve and go up it and not come down until I find my life mate.”

You would not be like your parents. You would not settle, and you would be realistic about your prospects.

Shouto’s eyes tracked across your face once more, like he was committing the statement to memory.

“You’re welcome to come up with me,” you said. You couldn’t imagine Shouto as anything other than an omega like his mom, not with that sweet little face. You didn’t like the idea of some alpha trying to get at him, so it was better he stay safe in your tree with you.

The thought suddenly rankled, and you decided you were done with this discussion. Better not to think of Shouto all grown up and spirited away from everyone until you absolutely had to.

You tapped a finger on Shouto’s coloring book, turning him back to it. “Anyway. Tell me about the other animals in here? Did Izuku tell you about any of these?”

Shouto looked down at the page, his expression shifting seriously. “This is a killer whale,” he said, pointing to a corner of the page he’d colored in with a blob of forest green. “They are related to dolphins. They are the biggest dolphin in the world.”

You nodded, relaxing back on your hands, gesturing for him to go on.

Shouto took his job very seriously, explaining solemnly and in great detail all the animals on the page, the way he sometimes described all his toys to you. You let him go on, finding that you liked listening to Shouto talk—he was rarely so wordy, but he was easy and familiar and funny in how seriously he took everything.

You laid back and listened to him, hoping Touya took a little extra time in the kitchen. Shouto looked pleased to have your attention, and soon enough you found yourself dozing, your head against his little thigh, content with Shouto’s sweet little voice washing over you.

In Shouto’s company, the Todoroki house felt a lot like home.

Now

Your beloved mother woke you in the morning ramming the vacuum into the door of your old bedroom-turned-storage room.

You groaned from your air mattress, your old bed frame sold off already to pay a gas bill. You missed that thing.

“Only a week together and you were out all day yesterday,” your mother said when you emerged from your old room, shooting you a look that immediately made you feel like a teenager again. She was wearing one of your old sweatshirts, that she’d clearly commandeered because she’d missed you.

Your heart squeezed a little at the familiar sight of her, but not enough to curb your morning fussiness.

“Maybe I was out scoping alphas to pounce on during the run,” you said, shuffling towards the kitchen and the promise of coffee.

“You were out with the mayor’s son,” she said, sniffing. A small smile pulled at your mouth—she had pettily refused to call Touya by his name for years.

She’d been thrilled by your friendship with him when you were kids. From the outside, Touya had looked like a beautiful little boy from a well-to-do family. You knew she’d once held out hope for your friendship to turn into something more, to see you settled into a well-off family and taken good care of.

For your part, however, you’d been drawn to Touya but never interested in that way, and you knew Touya felt the same. And things had only gotten more complicated when Touya’s mental health had crumbled like dirt under his father’s heel, and even worse when the Todoroki family fire broke out; Touya’s extensive burns damaged his glands and destroyed any evidence of his secondary gender before he’d even presented. Though, personally, you’d always suspected he was an omega. He was showy, flashy, possessed of that classic omega need for praise and attention—not quite to your tastes.

You thought you probably preferred someone a little more lowkey, someone steady and easy. Definitely not Touya.

There was also the fact that his efforts as of late seemed directed at the one quarter of your friend group with blonde, fluffy hair. Though you knew Touya would rather burn his remaining skin off before admitting it.

Either way, your mother’s hopes of a marriage into the Todoroki family were dashed, along with her opinion of Todoroki Enji when things finally came to head, and she’d never quite forgiven Touya for it.

“Touya says hello,” you answered distractedly, fiddling around with the coffee machine, though of course Touya had said no such thing. “I saw Rei though, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto. Did you know Shouto is a firefighter now? He’s gotten so big.”

“An alpha?” your mom’s voice floated out from the living room, her eagerness not quite suppressed.

You laughed, though a tiny, strange sort of spark lit up your spine. “Mom, I’m a couple years too old for him. I’m like his grandma.”

“Oh you are not, you dramatic thing,” you heard her sniff.

“Our first date could be at my bingo hall,” you carried on over the hiss of the water boiling, the dribble of coffee into the pot. “And we could get drunk on our prune juice, and I could slide out my dentures waiting for him to kiss me—”

“I’m going to sell you,” your mother said, her vacuum starting up again pointedly. You heard the distinct thump of it being rammed into a couch leg and grinned.

You knew she wanted to see you settled because she loved you, wanted to see you taken care of in all the ways that she hadn’t been. Your father had let her down years before he’d even passed, which you thought should have besmirched any alpha’s good name in your mother’s book. But she was determined to believe in love and life mates despite it all, and you admired her for it. She was a stubborn thing.

You spent the morning helping her do chores, clambering up onto the counters and getting all the places she couldn’t regularly reach, hauling out her trash and googling your way through some low-level repairs. You shared a quick breakfast in between, dodging more questions about the mating run, before returning to cleaning.

You were covered in dust and a thin layer of Lysol by the time you remembered you’d promised to meet Shouto at the fire station for lunch. There was not enough time to change or shower if you wanted to pick something up on the way, and you supposed it was well enough that Shouto did not actually possess the level of interest in you that your mother might have wanted him to.

“Going to see my child bride,” you told your mom on the way out, laughing and dodging a sponge.

The walk to the fire station took the better part of forty-five minutes, including a long interlude spent hemming and hawing over the prepared foods section of the grocery store before you finally settled on cold soba—Shouto’s favorite from when you were younger, if you remembered correctly.

The fire station itself was an older, whitewashed multi-story building, set back from the main road. The garage doors were open in the warming spring air, the bright red of the fire engines clearly visible from blocks away. You must have been visible from blocks away, too, because Shouto stepped out as you turned onto the drive, the dark blue of his stationwear stark against his skin.

Your heart did a strange lurching motion in your chest, and you pointedly did not let your eyes linger on the way his uniform belted in at his hips, highlighting the trimness of his waist and the breadth of his shoulders. Nope.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, holding up your bag of spoils. “You still like soba, right?”

Shouto blinked, his eyelashes fluttering. Long fingers touched the bag, hefting it carefully from your grip. “You remember.”

You grinned up at him. “How could I forget? Especially because I was there when you had it for the first time. You flung some at Touya from your high chair and it ended up on me instead.”

Shouto looked embarrassed, a pink flush spreading prettily across the tops of his high cheekbones. “I do not believe you.”

“Uh huh,” you said.

Shouto’s mouth pulled into what might have been a nonexpression on anyone else, but was most definitely a pout on him. Cute.

“I can reassure you there will be no soba flung today,” he promised, his deep voice earnest. Then he paused. “Touya is not in range.”

A surprised laugh escaped you, and the edge of Shouto’s lips pulled. He looked pleased with himself for having drawn it out of you. He’d always made you laugh, even as a kid—though mostly for how incongruously serious he was as a child, even about the silliest things. But also for how he seemed able to press people’s buttons—Touya’s especially—just by existing.

Shouto gestured you inside, and you studied the firetrucks as you passed them, mostly so you did not watch the way Shouto’s shoulders shifted beneath his shirt.

When he caught your look of curiosity, Shouto led you over to one, opening the door for you to take a look inside. You peered at all the knobs and switches interestedly, leaning into the cab. It looked complex, and yet very familiar. It actually looked a lot like the toy fire truck that once spent a fair amount of time occupying the inside of baby Shouto’s mouth.

You glanced back, opening your mouth to tell Shouto as much, when suddenly two large hands were at your waist, warm and sure. They lifted you right into the driver’s seat like it was absolutely no effort.

You fell into the cab, suddenly winded. You whipped around to stare at Shouto, heart hammering with the casual display of alpha strength, unable to help the wide-eyed look you knew you were giving him. That was—that was—not allowed.

“Am I—can I be—in here?” you garbled out, trying not to make obvious the real reason for your sudden disorientation.

Shouto stepped up onto the wheel plate to lean into the cab beside you, bringing in a puff of that scent like campfire on a cold day. “Yes,” he answered, looking unbothered with how close his face was to yours.

You watched him helplessly, brain fogging with his proximity and his scent. He was very, very pretty up close. He’d grown into what had to be the most beautiful person you’d actually ever seen—his mother’s looks, dialed up to an eleven. The deliberate alpha edge to him should have been at odds with that delicate sensuality—but instead it was like his secondary gender sat on him like a beam of sunlight, highlighting his beauty.

It was totally at conflict with the round, pudgy little thing he’d been when you’d first seen him, the lanky preteen you’d left him as.

He felt so familiar and yet so strangely new. It was disconcerting.

You quickly averted your gaze, making a show of leaning in over all the dials and buttons. Shouto leaned right over your lap, his chest warm against your legs, patiently explaining what each one did in his low, calm tone. The depth of his voice was so shocking, but the tone so similar to what it had been—you could remember him explaining animals in his coloring book to you in much the same level of careful detail once.

Your head spun with the dichotomy. Baby Shouto, a lifetime away, and adult alpha Shouto here in front of you—

You hurriedly pushed the thought of adult alpha Shouto down before you could think too deeply on it. That was off limits.

When you’d had your fill and Shouto had managed to make sure you didn’t accidentally deploy the ladder in the station itself, he helped you down from the cab, his hands hot on your waist.

“I’m old but still spry enough to get myself down, young man,” you told him as he settled you back on the station floor. Your heartbeat felt like it was somewhere around your throat.

“I did not hear your bones creak at least,” Shouto said, startling you into a laugh again.

His mouth twitched as he led you further into the station, giving you a short tour of the gear racks, the office, the laundry room and fitness room stuffed with several of his coworkers, a room that smelled overwhelmingly of clashing alpha scents, none nearly as good as Shouto’s.

A cheery red head waved to you from the leg press, that Shouto introduced as Kirishima, and a blonde alpha greeted him with a towel whipped directly at Shouto’s face. Shouto ducked it with the ease of long practice.

“Oi halfie, who the fuck told you you could eat the cookies I brought in?” the blonde demanded, barely sparing you an acknowledging glace as he reracked a mind-bogglingly enormous set of weights.

Shouto introduced him anyway, in a deliberately bland tone that you immediately recognized as one he deployed to rile up Touya. “This is Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Answer the damn question,” Bakugou said.

Shouto blinked long and slow and absolutely meant to annoy. You hid a smile. “Am I expected to fight fires on an empty stomach,” Shouto said, flatter than a question.

“I’ll fucking show you an empty stomach when I rip out your—”

“You must be Y/N,” Kirishima said loudly from the leg press. You instantly clocked a beta disruption technique at work and smiled at him.

“Nice to meet you,” you said, searching for something to reply with, uniting in his peace-keeping mission. “That’s—an impressive amount of weight.”

“Thanks!” Kirishima said brightly.

Out of the corner of your eye you caught Shouto’s head snapping towards you, and you looked back to find his eyes narrowed on you.

“I can press as much,” Shouto said, his tone insistent. He crowded a little closer to you.

Your eyebrows crept towards your hairline, mystified. “I—that’s—great?”

A tiny frown pulled at Shouto’s mouth, and a disgusted sound issued from Bakugou’s corner of the gym. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. Take this shit right outta here,” Bakugou demanded.

Shouto ignored him, still staring at you. He pressed closer, his shoulders shifting so that he was angled between you and Kirishima, obscuring most of your line of sight.

“I—mean you definitely look like you can press, um, a lot,” you continued, bewildered. “The only pressing I do is, uh, french press.”

The frown evaporated from Shouto’s expression, something suddenly pleased descending over it instead. Beyond him, you thought you could see Kirishima smiling, mouthing you look like you can press a lot to Bakugou, and an answering eye-roll from Bakugou. Oh god. Had you said that?

Your face heated, and you immediately decided an evacuation was in order. “Well thanks for letting us interrupt you. Nice to meet you guys. Shouto—should we—?”

Shouto’s hand found the small of your back, gently guiding you. All thought of Kirishima and Bakugou suddenly evaporated under the feeling of that hot palm, and you barely managed another wave as Shouto shadowed you out of the room. He led you up a flight of stairs to the dorm area, where several more of his coworkers were arrayed, chatting over their own lunches.

Face still sort of warm, you helped Shouto unpack the soba and the various side dishes you’d grabbed. He disappeared further into the kitchen and returned with glasses of water and the appropriate utensils, arraying everything in front of you.

“So this is going to be your first run,” you said conversationally, after you’d taken your first bite of soba. “Got any lucky omega in mind?”

Shouto’s eyes darted up from his chopsticks to your face, grey and blue pinning you. “I have… someone in mind,” he said, after a moment.

A strange twinge made itself known in your chest again. You ignored it, shoving more noodles into your mouth determinedly.

“I am sure you will have absolutely no trouble, but I am happy to give you a quick rundown of all the usual hiding spots anyway,” you said. “Most omegas actually end up not too far into the preserve because they want to be caught, so it should be pretty easy.”

One of Shouto’s brows quirked the tiniest bit. “I have reason to believe I’ll need to follow at least a few miles.”

You felt your own eyebrows lift. Not too many omegas went super far in, unless they were looking to avoid someone or pose a real challenge. You went miles in specifically for that reason as well—to steer clear of the action, not that it was likely to find you anyway—and get up your tree before anyone came looking.

“There’s fewer spots that far out because the brush gets all scraggly at the coast,” you said. “There’s a few outcroppings though that I’ve seen omegas go for. You really think your intended will go that far?”

Shouto considered you for a long moment, those mismatched eyes roving over you. “I do.”

Whoever it was, they were going to make him work for it, huh? You suppressed a growing spot of offense on his behalf.

“And you’re sure about this person?” you asked.

Shouto nodded. “I have been sure since I was very small.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the same time as your stomach seemed to drop. That was very sweet—and also strangely disheartening to hear.

Why was that disheartening?

“Then—do you think they’re for sure your life mate?” you asked, taking a careful, studied sip of water.

“I do,” Shouto answered. The simplicity of his statement spoke for itself. You were a beta and did not have quite the same capacity to detect your mate as an alpha, but you knew alphas always knew. You wondered if he’d always known he was going to end up an alpha if he’d had that instinctive understanding since he was young.

You wondered why he’d never said anything, all those years you’d grown up together.

Your heart did a strange dip, sinking at the same time it lifted for him.

“I’m really happy for you Shouto. I’m glad I came back just in time to see you find happiness, when it feels like I have already missed so much else,” you told him.

Shouto leaned forward, catching your eye. His gaze was serious where it caught yours. “I am glad you came back, too. You have been… missed,” he said.

Your heartbeat fluttered, and you gripped the edge of the table, trying to quell the feeling. It would not do to be too overwhelmed by Shouto. Not now.

You managed a smile, and quickly rerouted the conversation back to the hiding spots you knew, and the forest trails you’d seen most omegas utilize. Shouto watched you carefully, and you hoped he was committing the information to memory.

After that the conversation turned to more innocuous topics, a rehashing of some of your shared childhood memories, some picking on Touya. The soba disappeared between the two of you, as well as all the side dishes you’d brought. Shouto was incredibly easy to talk to, you found—a fascinating blend of the earnest, slight shit-stirrer of a little boy you’d known and a blandly funny adult man. He had some of Touya’s underlying propensity towards intensity, and some of his mother’s thoughtful sweetness—and you liked the way the familiar traits blended into something faceted and interesting.

He really had grown up.

After lunch he let you explore more of the station, showing you all the compartments on the fire engines, explaining all the equipment. On the way to the door he also let you rifle through the gear bays, showing you his own rack of turnout gear.

He even let you try his jacket on, looking like he was suppressing a smile when the heaviness of it weighed your arms down, watching you flap your arms around, marveling as what was easily twenty pounds of heat-proof fabric resisted you.

No wonder he needed such an intense workout routine.

You couldn’t help but be amazed by it all—who Shouto had turned into, and the fact that he had such an impressive job, one that fit him so well. The fact that he was an adult now, with goals and ambitions that were a lot more grounded than yours. The fact that he was an alpha of all things, and could lift you up into a firetruck as easily as you’d once lifted him off Touya’s hip.

It was so much to contemplate, and you watched him, helplessly fascinated, as he led you around.

You lingered for long enough that the sky was tinging pink and orange by the time you left, and Shouto saw you to the door, insisting on plugging in his number to your phone so you could text when you got home. You could still feel his eyes on you as you turned the corner down the street, a strange warmth suffusing you as you walked. It kept you warm the entire way home, despite the cool evening air.

It was only when you arrived at your mother’s front door, shooting off your promised text to Shouto that you realized that you were mooning like a girl returning home from a date—a completely embarrassing, inappropriate tact for your mind to take with someone who had been your childhood friend. Your childhood junior.

Besides, Shouto had explicitly said he had someone in mind already, someone he intended to follow during the run. And you were too old for him, and a beta as well. Alpha-beta couplings were rare—and if Shouto had known who his life mate was since he was very small, and never given any indication it was a beta—well that spoke for itself.

You shook your head as you let yourself in through the door, trying to slough off the feeling as you called a greeting to your mother. It was sad you’d never get to haul him up a tree after you, the way you’d promised when you were kids. But such was life, you guessed.

Shouto may have grown up into an admirable man and a beautiful alpha—but he was off limits to you. You’d make sure you treated him with nothing but the respect and friendly fondness he deserved. Nothing else.

Absolutely nothing else.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x midoriya #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x reader #shouto x y/n #shouto x you #shoto x reader #shoto x you

956 notes · View notes

mrsstarkey1 · 1 year

Text

whipped - rafe cameron

summary: rafe totally isn't whipped for you

word count: 1.5k

warnings: just curse words

a/n: check out my most recent rafe fic !

"Alright, what the fuck is up with you?" Topper finally asked Rafe, grabbing onto his shoulder. "We're at a party surrounded by chicks and booze, and you're over here sitting alone looking like you're gonna kill yourself."

Rafe shook Topper’s hand off of him, smoothing out his sweatshirt that Topper had just grabbed onto, "get your hands off me, man."

Topper held his hands up, "I'm just worried about you, dude."

Rafe simply rolled his eyes, reaching down to the cooler by his chair to grab a beer. He cracked open the can and took a long sip, "happy now?"

Topper scoffed, "whatever, man. At least do a bump," he said, reaching into his back pocket.

Rafe shook his head, "I'm good."

"Oh come on," Topper started, beginning to pull out the plastic bag, only to be stopped by Rafe's grip on his arm.

"I said fucking no, Top. Jesus."

"Alright, alright," he said with a defeated sigh, turning to walk back toward the lively side of the party.

He stopped when he reached Kelce, putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Hey, you know what's been up with Rafe lately?"

Kelce shook his head a little, "whatchu mean?" he slurred.

Topper pointed back to wear Rafe was sitting in a chair, arms crossed, just staring straight in front of him, "look at the fucker. Offered him a bump and he said no. He's acting extra bitchy than normal."

Kelce shrugged his shoulders carelessly and started to walk away, but stopped abruptly when a thought entered his mind. "Y'know what it might be? That y/n chick isn't here," he said, eyes widened in realization.

Topper gave him a puzzled look, wracking his brain for any recognition of a y/n. "Who?"

Kelce rolled his eyes, "come on man. Y/n y/l/n. She was in a couple of our classes senior year. Rafe ran into her at that bonfire a couple weeks ago, remember? He was smiling and giggling and shit and blew us off when we asked him about it," Kelce only paused briefly before hitting Toppers chest, "yeah, yeah now that I think about it, he's in an oddly good mood when she's around, and extra douchebaggy when she's not. Shit's crazy, man," he said with a shake of his head.

Topper vaguely remembered the girl he was talking about. He thought for a moment, a plan forming in his slightly intoxicated mind. "You got her number?" he asked Kelce.

"I think. Here," he mumbled, shoving his phone against his chest before taking off toward the girl that had just called his name. If Rafe was actually whipped over this girl, Topper was going to figure it out.

After calling your number about seven times, he finally got an answer. "Jesus Christ Kelce, what do you want?" you'd asked, irritated tone evident in your voice.

"Heyyy y/n, this is Topper Thornton. What are you up to right now?" He asked in his nicest voice he could pull off.

Topper could practically hear you roll your eyes, "currently I'm wishing I'd never given my phone number to Kelce. What do you want?"

"I just wanted to invite you to this party I'm at right now," he said, only now realizing that he had no reason to back up this invitation without spoiling his plan. "It's uh- really fun. And I was just sitting here thinking, 'y/n y/l/n would really like this party'," he said, slapping his hand on his forehead at his own words.

On the other side of the phone, you were sitting in your car outside the party you could only assume Topper was talking about now. You were planning on attending the party from the jump, you'd just lost track of time watching TV. "What's so good about the party, Topper?" you played along for the fun of it.

"Uhh-" Topper thought for a little too long, "there's uh, beer?" He said, sounding unsure of his words.

You rolled your eyes, but composed yourself. "You know what, Top? You've convinced me. I'm on my way," you said with fake sincerity, smiling at your own acting.

"Really? Great, see ya," Topper hung up the phone, a proud smile on his face. Now all he had to do was watch and see if Kelce was right.

You opened your car door after a couple moments, and made your way inside the house. You squeezed through the crowd of people in the living room, trying to get to a less crowded area.

You stopped in the kitchen, scanning the room for your friend that had invited you. She was nowhere to be seen, so you opted to go get a drink first.

You grabbed a beer out of the cooler, sipping it slowly as you leaned against the kitchen counter, still looking around the room for your friend. Your eyes landed on a familiar figure sitting on a chair outside, only visible through the glass doors. You smiled a little, immediately walking toward the back door.

"You look like you're having fun, Cameron," you said once you reached him, sitting down on the table in front of him, your knees touching his.

Rafe's lips twitched into an immediate smile, eyes lighting up at the sight of you. He leaned forward a little so he could hear you over the voices of everyone around you, "hey, how long have you been here?"

"Just got here. Why? You been looking for me?" You asked with a smirk, putting your free hand out to shove his shoulder lightly.

Rafe looked down, an involuntary red flush starting on his cheeks. "Course not," he waved the accusation off quickly, in a comically unconvincing tone. "But I am glad you're here. These parties bore the hell out of me."

"Oh come on, Rafe Cameron bored at a party?" your eyes flickered down to the beer in his hand. You grabbed it from him, eyes widening at the realization it was nearly full, "and not even drinking a beer?" You questioned.

Your eyebrow raised as Rafe simply shrugged, "just not feeling it recently, I guess. The last party I actually had fun at was Kelce's a couple weeks ago, remember?" his smile widened as he spoke, "when we absolutely demolished everyone at beer pong."

You laughed with a nod, "course I remember. You're the best pong partner I've had in years," you said truthfully, a smile plastered on your face.

Rafe's expression turned impossibly more bright, eyes lighting up at the sight of your smile and the angelic sound of your laugh. He tore his eyes from you after a moment, so he could actually form words. "Do you uh- have any plans for later tonight?"

You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a shriek as cold liquid splashed on your shoulder and down your back. You stood up abruptly, wringing out your now beer-soaked shirt.

"Oh shit," a guy slurred from beside you, "my bad."

Topper got up quickly from his chair across the room after witnessing the incident, starting to move toward the two of you. He had just happened to look over just as- okay fine, he was watching intently the whole time.

He prepared himself as he walked to pull Rafe off of the guy that had just soaked you in beer - no doubt in his mind that Rafe would start a fight.

Rafe stood up from his chair quickly, only spending half a second sending a glare toward the drunk idiot who'd done this. He placed his hands on your shoulders, “are you alright?” he asked, worried eyes scanning over you.

Topper's eyes narrowed as he watched Rafe turn his attention fully to you, as the drunk guy stumbled back into the house. He watched intently as the rest of the scene played out, completely opposite from what he expected.

You laughed, nodding your head. “I’m good, I just reek of Bud Light now,” you glanced down at your shirt, “and I look ridiculous,” you said with a chuckle.

Rafe quickly unzipped his jacket, shrugging it off of his shoulders and placing it loosely over yours, "what an asshole," he muttered.

You slipped your arms into the sleeves, chuckling a little at how they fell so far past your hands. You rolled the sleeves up a little, and zipped up the sweatshirt. “Thanks, Rafe. My hero,” you said with a grateful smile.

Rafe’s grin widened uncontrollably at your words, and he quickly tried to shake the giddy feeling off of him, "you uh- you wanna go inside? It looks a little less crowded in there.”

You nodded, slipping your hand into his as you navigated through the crowd of people together.

Topper let out a shocked breath as he watched you and Rafe walk through the doors and out of his sight. "Well I’ll be damned," he muttered to himself with a shake of his head, "he is whipped."

taglist (message me to be added!): @rafes-bae @willowpains @maybankslover @housekeeperjjswife

REQUESTS OPEN!!

check out my obx masterlist and most recent fic

7K notes · View notes

loveinhawkins · 11 months

Text

Robin’s always had a soft spot for Eddie Munson, but up until recently it had been in a distant kind of way; she appreciated his class clown act, the way it had a domino effect of keeping the heat off the band kids, how he hogged the spotlight for any passing douchebag’s attention.

But then they both literally dive into The Upside Down, and her appreciation reaches a whole new level.

They’re in the Wheeler’s garage, thanking their lucky stars that four bikes exist in 1983 (and yeah, Robin’s sure that if she thinks about the whole time thing for half a second more her brain will promptly melt, so she doesn’t).

Each of them are pushing their chosen bike down the driveway, in a dazed sort of silence—the high of the Lite-Brite worn off in the face of another grim journey through The Upside Down.

Steve is flagging, Robin can hear it: his breathing’s growing laboured as he walks, an occasional unsteadiness to him that’s setting her anxiety off all over again, because what if they were wrong, what if it’s really rabies, and it’s too late, it’s coursing through his veins, and he’s—they’re gonna lose him—

“Hey, Harrington,” Eddie says, swinging a leg over his saddle, “wanna race?”

“… Hmm? Sorry, what?” Steve says.

There’s not even that long of a delay in him speaking, but the pause still has Robin’s heart in her throat.

Eddie’s got one foot on a pedal now, ready to set off. He looks back at them with a shaky grin—like he’s terrified, but he’s still gonna have some fun anyway.

“I’m throwing down the gauntlet, King Steve. Bet I’ll be faster than you.”

Steve scoffs, stands up a little straighter before he mirrors Eddie, balancing on the bike with one foot on the pedal.

“How much are we betting?”

Eddie huffs. “Oh, no money involved,” he says nonchalantly. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “This is just for the glory.”

And God, there’s that spark back in Steve’s eyes; it’s like Robin can physically see his competitive streak giving him strength.

Eddie Munson, you beautiful soul, she thinks, I could kiss you.

“Faster than me? Yeah, maybe in your dreams, Munson,” Steve says.

But Eddie’s already speeding off with a comical whoop; Steve curses as he hurriedly tries to catch up, yelling, “You dick, that’s cheating!”

“Not in my rulebook!” Eddie says with a cackle.

And for a little while, that’s enough to put Robin’s mind at ease: watching the pair of them taunt each other like kids—hearing Nancy laugh at the spectacle as she bikes alongside her.

But then she falls through the Gate, Eddie close behind her, and they freeze when Steve screams Nancy’s name with such fear.

Robin’s plunged back into a mind-numbing panic; she’s sure that her heart doesn’t even begin to slow until they’ve left the trailer park, until Steve’s control of the RV switches from ‘holy shit, we’re on the run, what have our lives become?’ to something more normal—the reliable, measured driving she’s familiar with, taking her to and from school or work.

Finally, she has time to, um… take stock. Of… things.

She wobbles her way over to Eddie, grabbing onto his elbow as Steve takes a turning.

Eddie instantly holds her up, a steadying hand around her waist. “Oh, hi. I’ve gotcha—” “Your music isn’t actually shit,” Robin says in one breath. “I know, um, on balance, it’s probably not the worst thing I could’ve said, but the delivery was—but, you know, considering I thought Nance was literally about to die, I’d say it was, like, kinda calm all things considered, but—”

Eddie’s chuckling. “Yeah, on balance,” he echoes teasingly, “you were pretty damn funny, actually. Uh, sorry for. Um. Screaming at you? Basically?”

“Basically,” Robin agrees. “Yeah, you were like impressively loud. Not quite eardrum-rupturing level, but y’know, I don’t actually know anyone who’s really had that happen to them; Amanda Wallis said she ruptured hers at the pep rally ‘cause she was standing too close to us—the band, I mean, but—”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, that’s bull, there’s no way that’d be loud enough to—”

“—I think she just had a grudge ‘cause David C on mellophone got literally the tiniest bit of spit on her, and he was only—”

“Yeah, well, everyone knows you sit in the splash zone at your own risk.”

“Exactly! She’s had plenty of time to learn marching band protocol.”

“Uh-huh, protocol,” Eddie echoes again, with a giggle.

He’s got a nice kind of laugh, Robin thinks: one where she’s never in doubt that he’s laughing with her rather than at her.

“That stuff you do’s pretty cool,” he says; with his free hand, he actually imitates her mime of playing a trumpet. “You must have good, uh…” She can see the exact moment that he’s having second thoughts about saying it, but he forges ahead anyway, with a hilariously uncertain, “Good… lungs?”

“Fascinating attempt at a compliment,” Robin says. “Luckily for you, I accept insults as, like, equal tokens of friendship.”

Eddie does a double take. He doesn’t go so far as letting out a questioning, “We’re friends?”, but he might as well have said it anyway: his eyes widen for a moment, like someone who’s just been unexpectedly asked out to prom.

Steve takes another turning; he does it smoothly enough, but even he can’t stop the RV from moving with it, and Robin stumbles again, very nearly ends up repeating how she toppled right onto Eddie in The Upside Down.

“Woah there, you’re good,” Eddie says, “just gotta find your, uh, what’s it called? Your equilibrium.”

“I don’t have any,” Robin says, all theatrical devastation, and Eddie snorts.

“Sure you do, Buckley. Look, just take my—yeah, that’s it, then just kinda straighten up… yeah, you’ve got it.”

And yes, after a minute or so, Robin’s footing does feel more certain, but she still keeps a stubborn grip on Eddie’s elbow, just in case.

“God, d’you know what I’m gonna do when all this is over?” Eddie says.

“Pray tell.”

“I’m gonna make a list. What was it you said, Madonna, Blondie…? Whatever, I’m getting all of them, m’never getting caught out like that again.”

“I’m hoping that needing music to evade the clutches of a serial killer from an alternate dimension is, um, strictly a one-time thing.”

“Don’t care,” Eddie says. “Still buying those tapes. Just in case.”

And yeah, it’s said partly in jest, but Robin can hear that he means it. Still, it’s the most optimistic that she’s heard him be so far: making plans for after, like he can really see a way through this. Like maybe he finally knows that they’ll help him get there.

“Need a list of tapes from you too, Buckley. You and Harrington.”

Robin smiles. Her first thought is of singing Total Eclipse of the Heart from the dirt-ridden floor of a mall bathroom, but then she thinks of every car ride with Steve, every time they’ve turned up the radio to belt along, and she knows that there are way too many songs to count.

“Forget a list,” Robin says, “I could fill a book. Same for big boy over there.”

Eddie blinks, like he’s suddenly taking stock, too. “Oh yeah,” he says, laughing lightly, “I did say that, huh?”

“Sure did. I was doubting my ears, too.”

Robin had been hoping they’d long since reached the point of being able to joke around with one another. But while Eddie does laugh again, he also starts biting at his thumbnail, glancing over at Steve in the driver’s seat.

“Um, hey.” Robin manages to keep her balance, briefly pressing her knee against his leg. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Eddie.”

“No, I know.” Eddie huffs self-effacingly. “I’ve kinda got permanent foot-in-mouth disease, my report cards would tell you that.”

Well, if he wants to pass it off as sometimes I just say the darnedest things, Robin would be a hypocrite to deny him.

It fascinates her in a sad sort of way though, how he veers between joking and nervousness—like he’s worried he’s intruding on their group, of overstepping somehow.

She wants to tell him: Look, we all got dragged into this, but we chose to stick around, and you’re no different.

But she no longer has the aftermath of Russian drugs to help bypass her own nerves, to kickstart her sincerity.

“Hey, you’re awfully quiet back there,” Steve calls, and Eddie startles.

Robin shakes her head. “Not us, that’s his—”

“Hello? Henderson, I’m talking to you.”

“We’re not even doing anything!” Dustin shouts back in exaggerated affront.

He’s sat on the backseat of the RV, peering out the window along with Lucas, Erica and Max. Robin stifles a chuckle at the sight; they look like they’re on a field trip—the cool kids at the back of the bus.

“Yeah, well, just checking,” Steve says, amused. “For all I know, you coulda been building a gigantic radio again on, like, the roof of this thing.”

“Cerebro,” Dustin says, just as Eddie lets out a baffled, “Uh, again?”

But then they’re pulling into The War Zone’s parking lot, and any chatter abruptly dies.

Afterwards, Steve gets off the road to park in a reassuringly deserted field. They don’t head outside right away (Robin’s not exactly looking forward to prepping Molotov cocktails), instead staying in the RV to eat junk food they’d grabbed beforehand.

Robin discovers that Dustin’s somehow bought five more cans of Pringles and snorts, declaring, “You’ve got a problem.”

At some point, Steve tries to sneak off to the bathroom so he can change his dressings—“And use actual proper bandages!” Robin calls to him; no offence to Nancy’s resourcefulness, but the torn shirt strips only do so much good.

It becomes a more comical than horrifying event, although she’s sure that’s down to Steve deliberately making it so, like a sleight of hand trick: playing it down as he keeps talking to the kids throughout, never wincing even once.

He ends up having to keep the bathroom door open to continue an argument with Erica over which Scoops Ahoy sundae was the best of all time—then figures that he might as well just step out into the open anyway.

At least the wounds have stopped bleeding—although the sight of Steve cleaning around them with bottled water is one that Robin could personally do without.

The kids are entirely unfazed. They flock to Steve, peering at the glimpses he lets them see like he’s just got a cool tattoo. Robin supposes that after El and whatever nightmare wormy thing was in her leg, they’ve seen everything.

Eddie, however, is another matter. He keeps quiet about it, not obvious at all, but Robin watches his face grow paler and paler before Steve wraps the new bandages around his stomach.

Dustin, bless his precocious little heart, must also notice, because he quickly starts up a seemingly impromptu game of charades, meaning that Eddie is soon distracted by his ridiculously over the top gestures.

“No, Steve, how are you not getting this?”

“I thought the whole appeal of this game was that you’re not meant to talk, Henderson. Dude, watch it, you nearly took Max’s eye out with… whatever the hell that was.”

“Oh my god, it’s Back to the Future, obviously! Ow, Max, I didn’t mean to—uh, yeah, the mime needs to be that big, how else am I gonna project what—”

“Dustin, I swear to god, I’m about to project you out the window,” Steve drawls.

Eddie laughs, hides it behind his hand.

But Steve must catch it, because he glances over at Eddie and winks before he’s dragged back into guessing another movie title.

And Robin’s obviously seen Steve wink before—he does it all the time, so much so that she’s become quite adept at reading when it’s a friendly one for her, or if he’s sharing some kind of in-joke with one of the kids.

She’s also seen his attempts at a ‘smooth’ wink towards some girls at work—and look, he’s Steve Harrington, it’s not like he’s going to be bad at it.

But if you ask Robin, it’s never looked quite right, like he’s always performing to an audience he’s unsure of.

But this wink doesn’t look like it belongs to either of those categories. Well, it’s got something in common with the first: that it looks entirely natural, as if he’s doing it almost without thinking. Like it just feels right.

They go through some more rounds of charades—Dustin’s gestures, if possible, getting even more dramatic—and Eddie gradually goes from contributing a few guesses to none at all, curling up on the backseat. He looks utterly wiped out.

Robin tries to catch Nancy’s eye, and after a few attempts, she gets the message, stands up with a nod.

“Okay, let’s take this outside, guys.”

“Spoken like a true camp counsellor,” Max says.

Nancy acts like she’s offended, but her lips keep twitching into a smile. “Max, never say that to me again.”

“There’s more space outside,” Erica says, “so we can duck out the way of Dustin’s windmilling arms.”

“Hey!”

“I’m bored of charades,” Lucas says. “We could do another competition? Like, I dunno, cartwheels or handstands or something?”

“Oh sure, so I can show you up?” Max returns, grinning.

Steve scoffs. “Uh, if you’re doing a cartwheel competition, I would win.”

“Since when?” Dustin says, an obvious taunt that Steve predictably rises to, flipping him off.

“Save your athletics for Vecna, please,” Nancy cuts in dryly.

“It wouldn’t be a fair fight.” Lucas gestures to Steve’s stomach, a little uncertainly. “You know, considering…”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Under normal circumstances, I would kick all your asses.”

“Sure,” Robin says brightly, “but Steve, if you do literally anything more strenuous than sitting down right now, I’m gonna—”

“Uh, Steve would kick your asses, actually,” Eddie says slowly. His voice is muffled from the way his hand’s holding up his chin, partly covering his mouth. “He did gymnastics.”

Robin, surprised, looks to Steve; he’s doing that thing where he scratches at his cheek unconsciously, seems to be a mixture of embarrassed and pleased.

“How’d you know that?” he asks.

Eddie shrugs. “We didn’t have a cover for gym one time, remember? There was a whole group of us slacking off but you just kept doing, y’know,” he twirls his fingers, “tricks on that box thingy.”

“Vaulting box,” Steve corrects like he can’t stop himself. He’s sporting an almost abashed little smile that Robin’s never seen before.

Eddie shrugs again. “S’all Greek to me,” he says, interrupts himself halfway through with a deep yawn.

Steve’s eyes soften. And then he’s ushering the kids outside, “C’mon, you can do whatever competition you want for thirty minutes before we get to work.”

“Got it, coach.”

“Shut up, Mayfield.”

“I’ll be your stopwatch if you’re doing handstands,” Nancy chips in, bringing up the rear—she catches Robin’s eye again, subtly tilts her head in Eddie’s direction and mouths Stay?

Robin nods.

“Uh, that won’t be accurate at all,” comes Dustin’s rebuttal—he’s outside now, but his voice still carries. “Unless you can like accurately keep time in your head down to the second—”

“Oh my god, Dustin, you’re such a shithead.”

“Nancy Wheeler, I’m heartbroken.”

Steve’s chuckle floats through the open door. “She said it, dude, not me.”

“You say it all the goddamn time!”

And then the voices fade away until all Robin can hear is distant laughs and joyful screams. It’s relaxing, in its own way.

“No gymnastics for you, Buckley?” Eddie says.

“Nope, not since 7th grade. Managed two cartwheels before I broke my wrist.”

Eddie winces in sympathy. He’s slumping a bit more; Robin makes herself comfy in the opposite corner of the backseat, gives him the most space.

She feels a weird lump at her back, behind one of the cushions. A quick investigation reveals an issue of TV Guide Magazine.

“Ooh, we can find out what we missed while on the run,” she says, waggling it in front of Eddie.

He smiles with a small huff. “Doubt it. Says 1981 on the front.”

“What’s a little more time travel?”

Robin flicks through to the crossword. She’s all too aware that Eddie’s still sat more stiffly than anything else. With Steve, it would be so easy; she could prod him in the thigh with her toe, light touches until he took the hint and relaxed.

But even before they’d really become friends, they were tactile: a tap on the shoulder to grab attention, bumping hips to move each other out of the way whenever they were scooping ice-cream at the same time. It’d been done so unconsciously, like they were already learning to read each other’s minds.

With Eddie, it’s clear that a different approach is needed.

Robin had caught onto that after her misstep at the boathouse, a pit in her stomach at the sight of Eddie’s hands shaking.

But her instinct to reach out, to soothe, made her unthinkingly try again; as they walked in the woods, she’d heard his breathing quicken, and her hand lightly brushed his back. She drew back as he instantly flinched at her touch.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said hurriedly. “Just—just checking you were okay. Sorry.”

Eddie just stared at her before nodding hesitantly.

And Robin wanted to tell him that it wasn’t by chance, that he had people who cared about him; that she did, and it wasn’t a fluke or an accident—she was choosing it.

She keeps her eyes on the magazine, jots down a few crossword answers. It reminds her of summer days spent reading on her grandparents’ porch, not wanting to startle a cat her grandpa had rescued as it approached her. It was always so spooked.

“You’ve just gotta let him come to you, sweet pea,” her grandma would say.

After a couple minutes, she hears Eddie breathe out, the creak of the seat as he lies down. He rests his head right next to her thigh.

“S’good?” he asks, pointing at the magazine.

“It’s pretty easy.” One of the crossword clues is ‘The Lion, the Witch, and the?’ which isn’t exactly taxing. “I’m used to doing the cryptic ones.”

Eddie laughs. He kinda sounds fond. “Of course you are.”

“They’re not that hard, once you know how to read ‘em.”

“Hmm, I doubt that. Lay one on me, Buckley.”

She purses her lips in thought. “Oh, I got this one last week. Condition of Wyoming, five letters.”

Eddie lifts his head ever so slightly to give her a blank look. “Not a fucking clue.”

“State. Get it? ‘Cause ‘condition’ is the definition, and Wyoming is literally—”

“God, I’m surrounded by geniuses.”

“Well, I’ve got the advantage of a summer of code-breaking.”

Robin slowly raises her hand as she speaks—makes sure to do it in Eddie’s line of vision, spots that he doesn’t pull back, that he even gives the tiniest half-nod. She pats his head twice.

Eddie scrunches up his nose. “Sorry, my hair’s gross.”

“It’s not that bad,” Robin says honestly. “Y’know for being on the run, it’s holding up pretty well. I’m getting whatever shampoo you use.”

Eddie smiles. “Sure.”

“Yours is looking way better than mine did after, like, one day getting wrapped up in all this.” Again, without really thinking, Robin adds, “I had all this sweat and blood and puke in it.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed now. He makes an unhappy sound, prods gently at her knee. “You’ve all gotta work on telling me horrific shit. That should not be casual for you, Buckley.”

He sounds emphatic—protective, even. Robin feels unexpectedly emotional.

“Yeah, sorry. Bad habit.”

Silence falls, and by the time Steve enters the RV, Robin has filled in the whole crossword, Eddie dozing by her side.

Steve’s getting another bottle of water—actually drinking it this time. He’s got grass stains on his knees, and he’s sweating slightly, like the ‘stay still’ advice hasn’t once been taken.

His eyes soften again when he sees Eddie sleeping—he doesn’t need to linger, but he does.

Robin watches.

We need more time, Steve, she thinks suddenly. For you to keep looking at him like that—for him to be awake to see it.

Steve tears his eyes away. Lands on her.

She smiles, mouthing What?

Steve rolls his eyes. He imitates her ‘what?’ mockingly, but then he smiles back and taps at his wrist, mimes winding a watch on. It’s what they do whenever they’re slammed at work, wanting to talk, but only able to briefly catch each other’s eyes in the rush. Later.

She taps her wrist. Later, she promises.

He gives her a double thumbs up—what a dork—before heading back outside.

Robin quietly puts the magazine away. Ever so carefully, she lightly strokes Eddie’s hair, feels her heart swell and break at the same time when he sighs contentedly in his sleep.

You’d better look after yourself, Eddie Munson, she thinks. You’ve got people here. People who really want you to stick around.

#on newly forming friendships and love ❤️#eddie and robin #robin buckley fic #eddie munson fic #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve and the party #steve and dustin #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve and robin #eddie and robin fic

2K notes · View notes

wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 1 month

Text

Beautiful Stranger

I've Never Seen a Mouth That I Would Kill to Kiss (2)

Mommy!Wanda x Beefy!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've been helping out with the boys for a few months and getting closer to Wanda

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Thigh riding (W to R), R is referred to as Daddy, fingering (R to W), subspace, Dom/sub dynamics

A/N: Here is part 2 because this is all my brain can work with at the moment is fixing this up for you guys~

August 28,2023

The end of summer flew by as you continued to babysit the boys on occasion while Wanda worked out things with her soon to be ex-husband.

Wanda hadn't told you when you first met her, but she did eventually when you woke up in her bed one morning to her throwing up in the master bath. Rushing over to hold her hair and sooth her by rubbing her back.

“Did you eat something bad last night?” You asked with concern in your voice, but she shook her head, looking at you with tears in her eyes. Some of them rolled down her cheeks, staining them with makeup from the night before. You helped wipe them away enough that she could calm down and say it,

“I'm pregnant.” She told you letting you know it had happened before her and her husband had talked about divorce. She was about three months when you found out.

You grabbed a cool face cloth, dabbing her face, wiping the new tears that had formed and finally cleaning her mouth. You leaned back against the sink counter, holding her hand.

“We'll figure something out. Whatever it is,” You shrug, letting your thumb brush against the back of her hand a soft smile on your face. “I'll be here for you Wanda.” Wanda started crying and you blamed it on the hormone because you didn't think much about what you said, but in that moment it was exactly what Wanda needed to hear. That someone, anyone was on her side and you? You were on her side the moment you met her.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

September 11,2023

As you started up college and the boys started up school you came over every weekday morning to help get them off to school.

Wanda was starting to show ever so slightly, especially when she still wore these tight tank tops from the heat. She was currently leaning over the kitchen island talking to the boys as you tried not to stare at her boobs that were practically spilling out of her tank top.

“Okay boys. Off you go. Y/N will pick you up from practice and I'll be home at six for dinner.” Wanda tells the boys.

“I'll be making dinner so think about what you want otherwise I'm picking!” You call as they head out the door.

Wanda and you both had a few hours before having to go your separate ways. Recently it felt like the two of you were closer than ever with tantalizing brushes here and there against each other. She'd find excuses to brush past you, her ass rubbing against you, making you want to just grab her and fuck her.

It honestly made you wonder if it was her pregnancy hormones. You had read about it affecting your libido so maybe Wanda was just as horny as you were?

You moved over to Wanda, helping her with the dishes, bending over as you stacked the plates from the bottom rack and moving around Wanda to go put them away in the cupboard next to her.

“Oh sweet girl you don't have to do that.” Wanda says.

“I know Wands, I want to help you. I told you I'm here for you.” Wanda bit her lip looking away,

“Pretty girl?” Wanda's voice was soft and gentle, making you turn towards her.

“Hm?” You asked, realizing just how close the two of us were as you looked down at her. You were almost a whole head taller than her. She looked up at you still biting her lip. You just want to…your hands moved with your thoughts, setting on top of her hips and pulling her against you. “What is it beautiful?” You’re surprised by your own forwardness. You'd never called Wanda a nickname other than Wands. You saw the blush on her cheeks as she tried to form words, taken aback by your words.

“Y-you think I'm beautiful?” She asks in utter disbelief.

“Do I think you're beautiful? Of course I do, but more than just beautiful. You're gorgeous, you're intelligent, you're kind and caring, and an amazing mother. Wanda you are so many things I can't even begin to get into it all right now because it would take me all day to count the ways that I think you're amazing.” You confess, Wanda licks her lips and you cup her cheek.

“Please…” she pleads softly.

“Please, what beautiful?” You ask, tilting your head.

“Please kiss me.” She does not have to ask you twice as you lean down to capture her lips and suddenly it's like everything is right with the world. Like your world was in black and white, but now with this kiss you can see in color. The pieces of a puzzle coming together to fit perfectly and fireworks are going off to celebrate.

We pull apart for air, but you lean your forehead on hers. She leans up giving you small, soft pecks until you can't stand it, you lift her up by her thighs, setting her on the countertop. Keeping her just at the edge so You can grind into her. She moans into your mouth.

“Ah…ah…Y/N…Y/N/N...” fuck hearing her moan your name with that accent. You let your hand slip past her waistband finding her panties soaked as you rub through them.

“That's not fair, beautiful using my nick name like that.” You growl against her neck, trailing kissing. “There was a reason I told you not to use my nick name with those pretty lips of yours.” You had Wanda moaning and mewling for you as you pulled back to look at her. “Fuck…you are absolutely gorgeous…” You captured her lips once more, rubbing small circles against her clit through her panties.

Just as the two of you were getting into it there was a knock at the door making both of you freeze up before Wanda’s eyes went wide.

“Fuck...it’s Vis. I forgot he was coming by to finally grab the last of his things.” Wanda whispered.

“I haven’t seen him come by once all summer and now of all days!?” You whisper hiss more to the air than to Wanda as she got down from the counter.

“Just stay here. Continue with the dishes and go along with what I say, okay? Can you do that pretty girl?” She asked cupping your cheek and you nodded. Going back to the dishes keeping your back to the kitchen’s opening as you heard the two of them talking faintly before the two voices got louder and your anxiety rose.

“Wanda who is this?” He had an British accent, finally you turned around. He didn’t look happy, but you felt comfortable saying that he didn’t have any height on you and you definitely had more muscle than him. He was dressed in a suit, light brown, blonde hair, and blue eyes.

“Oh this is Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N from next door.” Wanda tells him. “She and her parents moved in at the beginning of the summer. She’s been the boys babysitter throughout the summer and she’s also helping with them after school before I get home from work.” She tells him.

“So why is she here now?” He questions, he’s clearly upset.

“Oh I was just finishing up the dishes before heading off. I have class in an hour so I told Wanda I’d take care of this so she didn’t have to stretch and bend so much.” You told him, a fake smile plastering your face.

“Well she could use the exercise.” You felt your face physically twitch at his response. Biting the inside of your lip and your fist clenching up. How fucking dare he?

“It’s no trouble at all. I really enjoy doing dishes.” You somehow manage out. Wanda is staring at me shaking her head. She must see it on your face how you just want to punch him. “Well anyways I know you two need a moment. I’ll finish up soon and head off so please don’t mind me.” Another fake smile before turning away. Grabbing the silverware as the two made their way to Wanda’s room and you finally let out growl that was deep in your throat. “Fucking bastard.” You muttered under your breath finishing up before leaving, probably slamming the door a little harder than intended, making note to apologize to Wanda tonight.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Go Billy! Go Tommy! Come on you got this boys!” You called out from the stands as they played a practice game of soccer.

“Are the twins yours?” An older woman asks.

“Oh uh, no not really, I’m good friends with their mom.” You tell her. “I pick them up from practice for her because she works late.” She nods.

“They’re lucky they get to have you cheering for them.” As she said that you turned your head back to the field as Billy took a shot and made a goal.

“BILLY! WAY TO GO BUD!” You called out as he smiled big at you.

As the boys finished up Billy ran up and you picked him up, putting him on your shoulder. “Billy Maximoff makes the goal and wins the game! The crowd goes wild!” You bounce up and down making Billy laugh. He’s come out of his shell and Tommy comes over You wrap your arm around him. “Alright boys what do we want for dinner?” You ask.

“Mac and cheese.” Tommy says.

“Chicken nuggets and fries.” Billy says.

“Okay normally I would say no to making two meals but those are both incredibly easy to make so we’ll let it slide for tonight. Let’s stop at the grocery store so I can grab some things to make for your mom and I for dinner and you two can pick out what you want.” The boys are overjoyed as you let Billy down the two scrambling to your car, getting inside as soon as you unlocked it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Wanda gets home she mentions all the different scents as she walks to the kitchen in a lovely looking pantsuit. You smile at her in your tank top, sweat pants, and apron. “Welcome home.” You say, “It’s going to be a little bit longer for our dinner. I let the boys pick two different things for dinner. We had a hard time deciding when we were at the store if we wanted regular mac and cheese or the fun shapes for Tommy then Billy couldn’t decide if he wanted the dino nuggets or the star shaped ones and which fries he wanted to go with them.” You explain to Wanda as you move to the stove stirring the contents of a home made stew, adding a bit more of a rue to thicken it up.

Once September hits you get in the mood to make all different soups and stews. Wanda walked over, wrapping an arm around me, the boys upstairs working on their homework. You melted slightly into her.

“It seems like Daddy had a day with the boys.” She whispered in your ear, making you throw your head back against her shoulder, rolling your eyes to her,

“Oh don’t do that right now. I can’t even take you right now.”

“All the more fun later when you can.” She kisses you quickly. You groan in response, You were impatient and wanted her now after your little interruption this morning.

“I’m sorry about this morning. I almost jumped the island when he made that comment.” You apologized.

“No it’s okay. He isn’t wrong.” You turn your whole body to face Wanda now, backing her into the island. “Y-Y/N?”

“Don’t. Don’t you even for a second entertain his idiotic, red flag walking, ass of comments about your appearance. Remember what I said this morning? You’re beautiful and gorgeous and so many other things Wanda. Please don’t listen to his words.” Your hands are gripping at her hips, You swear You might leave bruises from how tight you’re holding her right now.

“Y/N...” Her voice is breathy. You lean in and whisper in her ear.

“Tonight I’ll show you just how beautiful I think you are and I’m not going to stop until you agree.” You kiss her jaw just by her ear as you hear the oven go off. “Oh that would be Billy’s nuggets and fries!” You turn on a dime turning back into the house-dad role you’d been in, leaving Wanda reeling as you pull them out, taking one nugget and fry to test them. “Okay those are done for him,” You look at the mac and cheese in the shape of SpongeBob characters, “That is also all done.” You take a taste of the stew, “Mmmm needs a little more paprika.” You mumble, taking a pinch and adding it.

“My favorite.” Wanda kisses your shoulder.

You get everything set up with Wanda and call the boys down for dinner. As you all sit down and start eating you tell Billy to tell his mom about practice today. Wanda being thrilled to hear about it.

Soon enough it’s 8pm and the two of you are tucking the boys into bed. You tuck in Tommy, Wanda gets Billy then you switch. “Mommy? Y/N?” Billy asks as the two of you are at the threshold of their bedroom.

“Yes Billy?” Wanda answers for us.

“Now that you and Daddy aren’t together anymore are you and Y/N going to get together?” Billy asks and Tommy laughs.

“Billy they’ve been together all summer!” He answers his brother and you chuckle. Wanda give you a playful smack.

“Boys, Y/N and I aren’t together. Yes she spends a lot of time here, but her and I are still figuring things out. Daddy and I just ended things so Mommy would like to be able to think about things.” You knew Wanda was making excuses, but it still hurt a bit.

“We’ll let you boys know if anything happens. If fact you two will be the first to know, okay?” You tell them, both of them smiling, looking at each other.

The two of you were finally able to leave the two alone, you head back down stairs while Wanda goes and takes a shower. You clean up the mess of the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and cleaning up papers from the boys, take out the trash.

All while thinking about what Wanda said, having your music playing just loud enough that You wouldn’t disturb the boys. The song ‘Nothing Hurts Like a Girl’ starts playing and I’m singing and dancing while cleaning up.

“I hope you aren’t singing about me.” You hear Wanda’s voice, making you jump, gripping the counter.

“Jesus fuck!” You hiss. “Don’t sneak up on me.” She laughs as the song continues to play. “Also excuse you that is a song about loving woman and yes also about getting hurt by them, but damn it women are hot and a shit ton better than any guy I’ve been with.” You admit Wanda crosses the kitchen until her body is pressed against yours, she isn’t wearing a bra, a loose shirt and sleep shorts.

“How many people have you been with?” She asks and you feel like this has to be a trick question. “I won’t get upset. I don’t mind if you’ve been with a lot of people.” She reassures, wrapping her arms around your waist.

“Promise?” Wanda nods. It takes you a moment, tilting your head back as You list them in your head, using your fingers to keep track. “Uh off the top of my head, not including nights where I blacked out and woke up with someone 10.” Wanda looks surprised, but not upset.

“All your age?” She asks and you nod.

“Yeah nothing ever lasted all that long. It’s like I had this attraction until I had them I guess. Then I’d kiss them and be like nah this isn’t it, but I’d still end up sleeping with them. I usually wouldn’t even let them touch me.” You find yourself explaining to her. “With you though it’s been different. Your touch feels addictive, it’s like fire dancing on my skin. I can’t get enough of you. I felt like I was broken before I met you.” You tell her, looking into her eyes.

She blushes and laughs letting me guide her and kiss her getting her up on the counter next song to come on is perfect, ‘Taste of You’

You let your hand into her shorts brushing her clit, “Y/N/N don’t you dare tease me right now.” She growls in your ear and your eyes roll back.

“Oh beautiful it’s cute that you think you’re in charge.” You put pressure on her clit. “You aren’t calling the shots right now; I am. You were the one that called me Daddy earlier beautiful.” You let your teeth scrap her neck, nibbling on her ear lobe. “Daddy’s in charge. Understood?” Wanda nods, “Words beautiful.”

“Yes Daddy.” She speaks softly, voice shaking.

“You’ve never done it like this have you beautiful?” You ask, picking her up by her thighs which she’s a little surprised You can do still as You bring her to the couch, sitting with her in your lap. She shakes her head, cheeks turning scarlet. “I’ll be gentle and you tell me if you want it harder or faster. You can set the pace. I like to use the color system of safe words. Green means you’re okay and we can keep going, yellow is slow down, red is stop no questions asked.” You explain and her face gets even more red, burying her face into your neck, making you smile. “Can you repeat the colors for me beautiful?” You ask while rubbing her through her panties, feeling how wet she’s getting from just talking about all this.

“Green is keep going, yellow is slow down, red is stop.” She repeats.

“Good girl. Can you tell Daddy what you want?” You ask softly in her ear.

“I-inside...” You push her panties to the side, letting your fingers slide over her wet folds, enjoying them until she’s shaking a bit, pushing two fingers inside her pussy, your fingers being wrapped up in her as she moans against your skin.

“You’re absolutely soaked beautiful. You took Daddy’s fingers so well.” You kiss her neck.

“M-more...” She whines.

“You want another finger?” she nods.

“F-fill me up Daddy...” You add a third finger moving a bit faster and a bit rougher instinctively. She bites into your shoulder to stop a moan ripping through her. Her hips are rocking against your fingers as she bites and sucks on your skin. You knew she was leaving marks on your skin.

“Oh that’s my beautiful girl. Look at you moving against Daddy’s fingers so well. Maybe next time you can take Daddy’s cock, would you like that? Daddy to fill you with her cock?” Wanda moans, nodding as she covers her mouth. If the boys weren’t asleep upstairs you’d be upset with her for stopping her moans like she was.

“Yes...yes Daddy, please...I’m gonna cum...” Her eyes are blown out from lust,

“Not until you tell me you’re beautiful.” You slow your movements much to her dismay, mewling, moving her hips to try and keep the high going. “Tell me that you’re beautiful and I’ll let you cum and we can keep going until you tell me to stop.” You tell her, she bites her lip.

“I-I’m beautiful...Daddy I’m beautiful, Daddy’s beautiful girl.” You smile, leaning up to kiss her.

“That’s right beautiful girl. Now cum for Daddy.” You pick your pace back up until she has to once again muffle herself by biting into your skin. You feel her tighten against your fingers, gushing, but you don’t let up your movements,

“D-Daddy...I came...” You smirk.

“I know beautiful girl. You can give Daddy another, right?” You ask and her head nods. “Good girl.” You keep your movements up making her cum again, soaking your hand and thigh. She’s a shaking mess in your lap. “Such a beautiful good girl. Daddy is so lucky.” You whisper holding her against your chest. You keep whispering praises in her ear, she’s moving her hips against your thigh, rutting into it and you chuckle. “Oh my beautiful girl do you still need more?” You ask and she looks up at you, you can see it in her eyes. You’ve dropped her so deep into subspace, somewhere she’s never been.

“More Daddy please...it’s been so long since I’ve cum...please...” She begs pulling at your shirt, tugging it up over your head, your breast bouncing a bit as she leans down, playing and sucking and biting.

“Mmmm good girl.” You let your head tilt back against the couch. You’ve never felt like this with someone and it sinks in that you never actually loved any of those people. Well you loved some of them, but not like this. Not like how it feels with Wanda.

Wanda’s hand finds its way past your panties as she continues to rut against your thigh, rubbing you as you let out a breathy moan. “Good girl. Make Daddy feel good while you rub against her.”

Wanda builds you up along with herself until we cum together. You have to cover her mouth as she doesn’t have the thought process right now to do so herself.

You slowly pull her out of subspace, getting her off of your thigh, grabbing a nice fluffy blanket, grabbing some water for both of us, and turning on a comfort show of Wanda’s as you pull her back against your chest.

“You did good for your first session Wands.” You tell her, kissing the top of her head. You can see her smile before she looks up at me.

“Y/N?” She asks.

“Wanda?” You tease back, kissing her nose.

“I love you.” Your breath hitches in your throat. “When you had me admit that I was beautiful. I knew that you meant what you said all day. I actually think I’ve loved you for a while, but it wasn’t until that moment that I realized it fully.” She rambles and you pull her into a deep, passionate kiss.

“I love you too Wanda. I’ve love you basically since I met you, but seeing you like this for me, making me feel good like no one ever has...I can’t deny it anymore.” You feel tears pricking the sides of your eyes and blink them away. “I don’t care that you’re older than me. I don’t care that you’ve already got kids, I don’t care that you’re divorced. Wanda Maximoff I love you and no one is going to stop me from loving you.” You admit. “I want to be here every day with you, with the boys, with this little bundle on the way. I want us to be a family.” Wanda is crying and smiling and You kiss her cheeks. “I mean it Wanda. I promise.” She nods.

“I want it too Y/N. I want you here with us. I want you to help me with the boys and live life together if you’re sure you want all of this with me.”

“I do.” You kiss her with everything that you are.

#ley writes #ley writes series #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #mommy!wanda #beefy!fem!reader

565 notes · View notes

rainykoo · 9 months

Text

a pirates greed (m)

[send me requests i like them]

masterpost : recent

pairing : afab!reader x monkey d. luffy

✸ ... synopsis: after saving an entire country, luffy just needs his favourite stress reliever all too himself

wc: 3.6k

warnings : established relationship, porn w minimum plot, post-wano luffy being a whore !!! absolutely rough nasty nd animalistic, unprotected (cmon yall know better), petty argument, faded law, reader is a lil mean, your captain just loves eating you out! use of devil fruit (canon), creampie, drool kink, luffy has a lip ring, overstimulation, mention of blood, praise kink (both parties), cumplay, semi-public, oral (m rec)

getting severe brain rot from just thinking about how needy and greedy luffy would be during a post-battle victory banquet...

especially after how nicely that black dress outlined your ass.

he just wants to put his hands all over you, but nami's banned him from any physically exerting activity, including dancing since he's still recovering from the damage he took.

poor guy almost begged to have himself buried in your sopping cunt, whimpering and gasping under you because he's been so stressed after all that fighting!

it's only right you help your boyfriend release all that pent-up energy right?

but to his dismay you were busy with traffy, his tattooed hands tracing over the thin fabric of your dress as you two danced.

"damn him." luffy chanted in his head continuously, wishing you'd stop focusing on law and pay attention to him instead.

your captain worked so hard to defeat kaido.. so why are you smiling and spending time with law instead? that's not fair. you should be rewarding luffy with your touch for being so strong all the time, no?

he couldn't even hear zoro's drunken babbling as he fixated his eyes on the two of you from his table. luffy thought it was too polite of you to let law touch you like that... way too polite. no longer able to deal with the ache in his shorts. though what made his heart palpitate the most was how the both of you seemed to be having a jolly fun time. he grazes his teeth over his lips, excusing himself from his best friend before stumbling towards the dance floor to reach you and law.

"actually i already rolled some spliffs, we can go outside n hit some right now if you'd like," law said with a deep chuckle, gazing at you with his half-lidded eyes. "go do that with your side, look he's starin' at you as i speak." you joke, nodding your head in the direction of kidd as law harshly exhales, rolling his eyes."fffucking hell will you drop that? i was zooted outta my mind when i said.." your conversation gets cut short when you feel pair of hands other than law's snake around your waist from behind.

you momentarily freeze— only to find relief when you hear luffy's voice. he's clinging onto you, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. the threads of his strawhat slightly bent against your skin as luffy pressed himself closer; hiding the stony expression on his face. “(name).. you've been dancin' with traffy the whole time. it's annoying.” luffy whined against your earlobe. your captain continued to press and grind his body against you, something hard rubbing against your ass.

"i know luffy.. but me and law haven't properly hung since we left zou." you responded as luffy lifted his head from the warmth of your body to send law a glare while you both tried keeping balance on the floor as the surrounding crowd of people continued dancing. "so (name)-ya you coming? strawhat can tagalong if he wants." law spoke, putting his hands in his pockets as he glanced towards the exit.

"w--"

“nuh uhn..” luffy shook his head before you could even respond, his face wincing in a grimace.

"luffy, i—"

"no."

"you're supposed to rest lu.. you're still recovering" you softly exhaled, turning in his grip so you could face him. "well ya could've just stuck around me. ion like that you spent time with tra-guy in the first place." luffy continues whining, his voice growing annoyed and impatient.

he seemed restless, his breath uneven. "also ya promised you'd only dance with me." you giggled, scanning the way his pretty lips formed a pout, eyebrows furrowed in disappointment. “don't worry, it won't happen again lu, you're still my number one dance partner.. and i spent all day with you yesterday, n the day before.” you respond, letting another giggle leave your lips.

but luffy doesn't find it funny, he slowly loosens his grip on your waist— tossing his lip ring through his teeth as his obsidian eyes look into yours. "this is the thing with you, ya don't keep your promises (name)." he mutters his voice going a little deeper causing your smile to fall. wait.. huh?

"what's that even mean?" you retort. luffy's feeling all sorts of emotions right now.. but he can't tell why his breath is so shaky, or why his heart was feeling heavy. he'd been so stressed over the past few weeks, the pent-up anger was possibly getting to him.

“you keep breaking ya promises! thats what it means.” luffy snaps. for a second his eyes soften after he realizes he raised his voice, but he doesn’t move from his position, hands still on your waist. law, witnessing the sudden quarrel— decides to walk off leaving the two of you alone.

the tension between you felt heavy. "the fuck? luffy since when have i broken any of our promises. me and law well, dancing just.. happened. it didn't even mean anything we're friends." now you were getting agitated. "that's not even the main problem.." he muttered, luffy's gaze eats you up— and the glint in his eyes almost speak a magnitude of unsaid words.

"..i'm YOUR boyfriend (name), ya didn't like when hancock was all over me so why—" "can you stop bringing that bitch up??" you knew it wasn't great of you to dance with law all while your boyfriend was watching you, but you didn't think it'd be that big of a problem. you trace your hands over his— removing them as you angrily turn around to stride away. but you can never really get away from a man with the power to stretch, so luffy beats you to wherever you thought you were walking off to, stretching his arm and pulling your body back towards him.

“m’sorry… i— (name) i'm just feelin stressed right now. can you please just...” luffy rasps in a softer tone trailing off as his arms cage you. you stay silent for a couple of moments, trying to process the exchange of words you shared seconds ago. but the more he presses your back against him, the more you feel the stiffness between his legs. you don't quite know what to say, so you turn 180 degrees to press a hot kiss against his lips.

luffy's taken aback by the suddenness, but that doesn't stop him from enjoying it. he returns what you gave to him passionately. pulling you even closer, as if he's wanting to get completely lost in the kiss. you hum against his lips when luffy swivels his hips, grinding his dick against your inner thighs.

he seems so eager, so desperate for you and it shows. really lost in the kiss and in the moment, as if all he can think about is being balls deep in your dewy cunt. and who's to say you don't want him just as much. the way luffy's frenching you seems almost animalistic, and you could feel how he's having trouble controlling himself with every passing second that you're pressed against him. trying so hard to maintain his composure.

and when you break the messy kiss, a string of saliva still adjoining your lips— your captain looks at you with a blush, still panting heavily. watching the drool that slowly dripped from the corner of luffy's mouth was something that shouldn't have been so hot to you.

his eyes travel up and down your body and back to your lips. the faint taste of mango luffy had gotten drove him insane. he loved when you slathered your plump lips with lipgloss, regardless of the flavour or color— and he adored making a mess of it, ruining it. his own lips being stained a hint of red.

luffy seems lost again. almost unable to think by himself. he leans towards you once more, seemingly going in for another kiss. but he stops himself for a moment to admire how soft you feel— hands grasping your ass through the flimsy fabric of your dress. your head was spinning, maybe from the shots you took earlier, or the way luffy had devoured your mouth. "i-"

"shut up." you huff out, pulling him towards the nearest slightly secluded space you could find. and luckily, there was a nicely lit room with a thick futon neatly unfolded on the carpeted ground. pressing him against the wall, you brought a nasty, wet kiss to luffy's lips once more. one that left his stomach fluttering. he sucked and drug his tongue back and forth against yours, in the messiest ways he could think of. too lost in your lips to get off of the surface behind him.

he couldn't help the blood that rushed even more to his cock once you tugged hard on his hair. luffy couldn't put it into words, but he was such a slut for the way you painfully grasped his raven locks every time you enjoyed something. he muttered your name a couple of times between heavy breaths before he quickly wriggled out of the red material of his top letting you suction your way down his neck, teeth grazing his collarbone.

and you didn’t need any command to lower your head and place luffy's nipple between your lips. you only bothered to unbutton and drop his shorts low enough to free his aching dick, rock-hard and covered with pre-cum. fuck you wanted to slobber all over his length so bad. though luffy catches you by a fistful of your hair, preventing you from going further.

"stop, i wanna suck." you whine out, but luffy shakes his head, pulling his boxers up just enough to cover past the tip of his cock. pushing his back from off the door- he lays himself on the futon, hauling you with him. "no, i want you t’ sit on my face first." for a second, you stilled, as if the statement shocked you. "you... you want that?" you tested the waters, but luffy didn't just want it. he needed it.

"please… i’ll make ya cum so good (name) just sit on my face." luffy insists, eyes glossed over. face sitting was something he'd yearned to try with you for so long. so impatiently, he pulls you to straddle him, your dress sliding up your thighs. he wastes no time ripping the expensive fabric of your panties— taking a few moments to rub the pads of his calloused fingers along the wet patch you left beforehand.

you nervously let him pull you further up by the hips until your pussy is just above his mouth, the scent of your sweet arousal hitting his nose. “smell so good (name) m’gonna taste you now yeah?” “please do captain” you respond breathlessly. and before you could take another breath, luffy’s making out with your cunt— tongue lapping vigorously over your clit sending a pleasurable shiver up your spine.

you immediately try to raise your hips afraid you’ll suffocate him if you give in to the pleasure, but luffy’s hands grip your thighs painfully, preventing you from squirming away. because luffy doesn’t care if he suffocates as long as he’s got his tongue sloping in and through your folds. and something about knowing how anyone could walk into this room, seeing the two of you sent electricity through your core.

you felt the coolness of luffy's lip ring make contact with you constantly, and you couldn’t quite decipher his muffled words, but you could tell by the way he desperately stuffed his face between your legs that he was in ecstasy. “sso.. mmh feels good lu!” you barely manage voicing out, already close to your on-coming high.

but as much as luffy wants to stay between your thick thighs and fuck you with his mouth, he was restless, and hard. feeling his own heartbeat pulsing right at the tip of his dick. he suctions at your clit roughly, earning a loud cry from you before you’re already cumming— a slightly clear stream of liquid flowing from your cunt.

and of course, luffy being the greedy man he is takes everything you give him, leaving your cunt only after he’s had his fill. “taste n' look so pretty when you cum..” he coo's almost cheerfully before moistening his lips, a more serious look returning to his face as you free your legs from his face.

"here, taste yourself pretty" he whispers, pressing a slow kiss against your lips. though you only manage to come back to your senses enough to comprehend that he's torn off your nice pair off underwear, feigning a faux an annoyed look. "does ripping all my expensive lingerie get you off or something?"

"m'to impatient to take it off slowly.." he pouts, as you drag yourself off of him.

“is that so..? my turn now.” you whisper, before you're on off of him and on your knees tugging roughly at his unbuttoned shorts causing them to slightly tear.

"hey! those were m—"

you cut luffy short before he could complain about your petty revenge, giving the tip of his cock slow kitten licks and a few pumps before sealing your lips around it's pretty head, making him let out a throaty whine as you take or inches of him.

"i'll forgive ya if you open your mouth n take me deeper.." luffy breaths out lowly fully relaxed on his back now. one hand under his head and the other, guiding yours. you part your lips further, warm breaths of air fanning over his flushed tip.

“ahh.. fuckk baby— use that pretty mouth like you do best” luffy slurs, and something in you almost switches like a trigger. his coaxing encouraging the worst in you. especially since it was incredibly rare of him to use pet names with you. so you suddenly take as much his size as you can luffy shuddering in pleasure.

every ridge and vein on his length felt as your drag your tongue, every lick and suck of your mouth on him resulting in obscenity; gagging, wet noises, moaning. everything only making your hole flutter more.

his shut tight. opening them after a few seconds, to admire how your lips sank down on his cock. "gooddd, it's like ya mouth was made jus for— nggh.. sucking off your captain huh?"

"hold on.." you suddenly whisper, causing luffy to whine from the lost warmth. you take something out from between your cleavage. what was so important that you needed to stop? and suddenly he tenses his thighs.. you're scribbling on his cock. it tickles and it’s heaven. luffy couldn't even see what you are creating, but the sensation was fucking amazing. especially since he was so sensitive.

“thereee” you say, admiring your work.

“so pretty.”

“what did you do? i wanna see”, luffy begs, squirming needily. and you raise your hand, waving the wand of your cherry red lipgloss in your hand. luffy glances down to look at his aching cock, to find the words. 'all mine ♡' scribbled in red.

something about that act felt so endearing to him that luffy felt he'd tear up from the gesture— and from the fact that you were teasing his poor friend. he gives you a lazy smile. but as his eyes wander the room, he finds himself making eye contact with the tall mirror that but on a perfect display of your backside. you were almost on all fours now as you slobbered his cock, head tilted down and ass pointed up.

it looked so soft, and you looked ever so stunning. unfortunately for you, luffy was as restless as ever. he could never control himself whenever he saw that damn ass of yours. so you didn't blame him when he tugged on a fist-full of your hair to get you off his cock.

"wait m'not—"

"(name)... i— wanna fuck you from behind, please can't wait anymore.. want ya to put that cute ass on me."

"you're so impatient."

well, who were you to deny captains orders?

with a quick sound rustling of fabric, you'd immediately discarded your dress, pressing your face down into the futon as luffy teased your hole momentarily with the head of his cock. holding you in place by the hips and seconds later, he's already buried inside you— stuffing himself to the hilt. so fucking tight he thought.

luffy bit down onto his lip muffling the whimpers that endlessly slipped from his mouth— to the point that it drew a bit of blood. he pounded like he wanted everyone near to know, to hear how he was making a mess out of you. though he was shameless enough for it, luffy couldn't decide whether he wanted to be the only one that got to see your messy cum stuffed cunny, or if he wanted a live audience as he fucked you to the point of drooling. and who's to say you would mind the latter?

head thrown back in pleasure, his dark hair stringy from sweat, his furrowed eyebrows as you continue to tighten and clench around him, pulling you further onto his cock. he giggles breathily, "l-love when you squeeze me like that" only earning a incomprehensible mumble from you. something about the way he moaned and spoke was so ..slutty.

"cmonn.. i know ya can talk louder than that!" he sneers, and that was luffy's favourite part about doing this with you. he loved pleasuring you to the point of not being able to speak, knowing he's the only one who can make you this dumb on dick.

he loved the freedom that came with exploring new ways to make eachother feel good, and nothing made him happier than sharing in such freedom with you.

luffy's hands roughly fist your hair, pulling your head up in order to better show you what he's doing to you. "look in the mirror (name), look how gorgeous ya- gaahh, look when you're all fucked out. see? so pretty baby~" he taunts.

"gonna cum, wan' cream all over you!"

"yeah? captain's dick feels that good?" he lets off another breathy moan. "y-ya like it when i stretch ya out like this?" and when you let out a string of praises chanting his name like your life depended, he decided you deserved a treat in return for always being this good for him. so luffy bit down on his thumb and blew until you felt an unfamiliar sensation deep in your guts causing you to mewl out. he was way bigger all of a sudden, and his cock seemed to fill and rub against areas you'd never known could be reached.

"ah~ luffy thats.. you're- so deep!" you almost wanted to sob as he watched you wriggle under him, your senses overloading from the stimulation luffy inflicts upon you. it was crazy how he could be so sweet and caring with you one moment, and the next having every bone in your body tingling from euphoria.

"keep— ah god.. moanin' out like that! let tra-guy know that yer all mine" luffy rasped, only further perusing with his erratic pace. it was ruthless almost— and hearing those pretty sounds from you didn't help the burning sensation he felt in his lower stomach.

"sso- so close!"

"pl-please need you to fill me full with your seed.." you whimper feeling your knees almost buckle when his cock starts to forcefully rub against your cervix.

"i gotcha! gonna.. stuff you up- mmm, so good n watch it spill out.." he laughs between his far from quiet moans, one of his hands tracing your ass until he snakes it down between your legs, rubbing at your clit without mercy. your vision blurred and your fingers gripped at the futon tightly, “ah fuck! L-LUFFY! LUFFY!"

and as you finally cum around him, clenching around his pulsating length once more. "that's it! so good baby, so good..!" he continues to fuck into you, hitting deeply over and over again, pushing you into the softness below— then it's his turn to orgasm. his sticky white filling your womb until it started to leak out. luffy pulls out just in time for your body to slump down onto the cushioned surface.

but he doesn't let go of your hips just yet. luffy's gaze hazily follows the milk colored substance that seeps out of your fluttering cunt as he draws heavy breaths. taking his middle and index working them into your sensitivity— watching the string of cum that shadows his fingers as he pulls them out.

luffy being luffy, couldn't help but want to taste it, because what would be the point of all this work if everything went to waste?

"say ahhh." was the only thing you could make out, before you're being flipped onto your back, a strong hand resting on your chin. through your blurred sight— you watched luffy lick two of his fingers slowly, savoringly before he gathers the drool in his mouth letting it drip down to yours. and you let him, letting your mouth hang agape to accept every bit of his filth.

"swallow... atta girl..!" he smiled brightly watching the lewd expression you made tasting your guys aftermath. he runs his hands back to your ass, kneading it slowly but without any ulterior motive other than that he loves holding it when you calm down together.

"i love you (name) m'sorry i got so mad at you earlier."

"no, i should apologize. you were injured n bored and i wasn't even checking up on you."

"speaking of injuries.. i think still i need some stress therapy." luffy says with a sly grin, laying beside you on the futon.

you catch on almost too quickly, shaking your head— breath still uneven. "no no no, we're done. we can't have any of your wounds reopening."

"don't ya wanna suck me off still? a bit of head can't do any harm!"

"you realize this room has no door right?"

"......when has that ever stopped us?"

oh god.

... ✸ a/n: i was baked past cloud 9 when i wrote the other half of this but, ion wanna hear noone say shit such as “luffy ain’t slutty like that” nah man he is 🙏 down with sex ignorant luffy !!! #ace luffy is still canon but so is slut luff

tags !! @svanesworld , @selkiemaiden , @dilvcslut , @iluvs-world , @eaves-dropper , @yourmumsthings , @sanjisblackasswife , @roronoaswifey , @movie-enthusiast22 , @luffypedia , @pandoras-box0 , @xxdiaqiaoxx , @girlmeetsbullshit , @n9hida , @w9vyy , @juno443 , @roronoazorohater , @soloplayer0901 , @deathkidz

#monkey d. luffy #one piece #luffy x you #luffy x reader #luffy #op luffy #strawhat luffy #one piece headcanons #luffy smut #mugiwara no luffy #rainykoo #one piece smut #op smut #trafalgar law

2K notes · View notes

its-time-to-write · 1 year

Note

hi! Could you please write something with like reader opening the door one day when Roy stars knocking for training but reader and Jamie aren’t open about their relationship yet? I think it would be cute xx

I also thought this was cute. Not sure if anyone notices/cares, but all my titles are song lyrics based ever so loosely on the vibe I am trying to convey. Thanks for another great request!

what it is

Someone’s aggressively knocking on the door and as you roll over to check the time. It’s 4am, and you poke Jamie who is fast asleep beside you.

“Babe,” you whisper, “someone’s at the door.”

Jamie groans and mumbles something incoherent. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell something’s off. You reach out your hand and feel his forehead. It’s burning up.

The knocking continues and Jamie lets out another groan and says something that sounds like raining? Oh. Training. You remember he trains every morning at 4, but you’ve never seen who he goes with. He just kisses you in your sleep and is back right as you wake up for the day.

You roll out of bed, grab one his sweatshirts from the floor, and pad downstairs to the door.

You swing open the door mid-knock. The man on the other side lowers his fist, looks at you all squinty for a moment, then says, “Who the fuck’re you?”

You return the look. “I live here. Who the fuck are you?”

The man scoffs. “No, you fucking don’t. This is Jamie Tartt’s house. Jesus fucking Christ, is he fucking blowing off training because of a fucking one-night stand?”

Oh. You know who this is. This is Roy Kent. You didn’t know he was the one training Jamie, but you guess it makes sense based on how much Jamie talks about him. It’s Roy Kent this, and Roy Kent that, and Roy says I need to eat more protein, and Roy said my hair looked funny today, does it look funny to you?

You sigh. You and Jamie have been together for three months, and you basically live at his house. You’re really only at your flat to change clothes. You have a toothbrush, pajamas, and half a wardrobe at Jamie’s. Your books have started to make their way onto his shelves too, as you read them and then leave them for him to start. That was a little bit of an accident at first, after you left This Side of Paradise one night and came back to a different bookmark on page 34.

Anyway, Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re dating Jamie, or that anyone is. You suppose in his mind, Jamie is happily single, fucking around like the twenty-something year old footballer he is.

Roy is still looking at you expectantly, so say, “I do live here. Why don’t you come in?” and hold open the door a bit wider.

Roy’s face says fuck it, and he follows you inside to the kitchen.

“Can I get you some tea?” you ask quietly, although Jamie can sleep through anything.

Roy seems surprised by the question, but says, “Yeah, sure,” as he stands by the kitchen island.

“Jamie’s sick,” you say. “He’s still asleep upstairs. I doubt he’ll be up for training today.”

“Right, yeah,” says Roy, “I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you? Jamie’s not fucking supposed to be doing the whole one-night stand thing, he told me it’s too fucking distracting from training.”

You chuckle. “That’s comedy gold right there. Yeah, no, I’m not a one-night stand. I’m his girlfriend.”

Roy’s impressive eyebrows lift in shock, and you laugh again and give him your name. “Didn’t know I existed, did you? I’m not one for crowds or a big fuss. I told Jamie if we made it four months than he could start telling people. He was a little upset, but,” you shrug, “no point in making it a big deal if we just break up, right?”

You can practically see the wheels turning in Roy’s brain as he does the math.

“So you’re telling me that you’ve been fucking dating this little prick for three fucking months, and he hasn’t fucking said anything?”

You nod.

“Fuckkk,” Roy whispers, “that makes so much fucking sense.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“He’s been less of a prick recently,” Roy explains, “More considerate, been carrying around fucking books and shit. Not fucking flirting with everything that fucking moves. Thought maybe he was just taking beating Zava too fucking seriously.”

You nod and move to pour the tea. You and Roy both turn as you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. It’s Jamie, who is wearing a headlamp, pajama shirt, athletic vest, and a single sock. And, thank God, pants.

“Ready for training coach,” he says with a salute, but the action almost makes him fall over. He looks all pale and sweaty, with bags under his eyes.

“Told you he was sick,” you say.

“Fuckin’ hell,” is all Roy can come up with.

Jamie seems to notice you for the first time and breaks out into a smile. “Roy! Look! I have a girlfriend,” he says, words a little slurred while pointing to you.

It’s punctuated by a “Jesus Christ,” from Roy as Jamie wobbles, unsteady on his feet from his fever.

“Alright, mister,” you say. “Back to bed.”

Jamie frowns. “Always so mean,” he says. He does an imitation of your voice, “No Jamie, you can’t tell Roy about us. Yes Jamie, I know Roy’s your best friend. No Jamie, I don’t think you love Roy more than me.” He looks at Roy as you sling his arm around your shoulders, supporting him at his waist. He puts his fingertips on your lips as he says, “See what I have to put up with?”

You roll your eyes and suppress a smile as Roy says, “What you have to put up with?”

Jamie is so loopy right now. He lays his head on yours and smiles again. “Look at this. Me two favorite people, finally meeting. You should stay for dinner, coach.”

Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh as you both mutually decide not to point out that it is now 4:30am and dinner is a long, long way away.

“Let’s go get you out of those clothes and into bed,” you say as you start to lead him back to your room.

Jamie casts a look back at Roy and wiggles his eyebrows. “Babe, you can’t just say things like that in front of granddad. Might give him a heart attack. Old people are such prudes.”

“Go to sleep, Tartt,” Roy says. He looks at you and says softly, “I can see myself out.”

You smile and wave with your free hand. “It was nice to meet you,” you say. “Hopefully we can meet again under more normal circumstances.”

Roy nods once and does what you think is a smile? He turns and heads out the door as you maneuver Jamie upstairs. Jamie Tartt has a girlfriend. And a good one at that. What is the world coming to?

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

2K notes · View notes

wandasgf · 3 months

Text

EVERLONG. mdni. 18+.

dream girl evil universe

pairing: rockstar!natasha romanoff + yelena's best friend!reader

summary: you hadn't expected yelena's natasha to be the natasha

warnings: fluff, partial smut, light angst for like a second, top!natasha, bottom!reader, really they're just very sweet

wc: 2.5k

You freeze in the kitchen of Yelena’s apartment, seeing a redhead that you don’t recognize sitting on the couch in the living room. You briefly wonder if Yelena had had a breakdown and dyed her hair without telling you. That would explain today’s radio silence even though usually your phone was blowing up asking when you would finally be done with your classes and come make her dinner. It was Monday night and usually you’d come over to Yelena’s apartment to make dinner and watch whatever movie Yelena chose. Sometimes her girlfriend Kate would come over, but Yelena liked to keep Monday nights for ‘best friend time’ as she liked to call it. You hesitantly hang your bag on the hook by the door and close it behind you. Hopefully you didn’t just close yourself in with a serial killer or something.

At the sound of the door closing, the redhead turns her head and your jaw almost drops when you make eye contact. Natasha Romanoff is sitting in Yelena’s living room.

What the hell is Natasha Romanoff doing sitting in Yelena’s living room?

The redhead is the lead guitarist and singer in what most magazines and articles are calling ‘one of the most popular female rock bands in the past twenty years.’ Even if someone doesn’t know Spellbound’s music, they’d know Natasha. She’s recently been a hot topic of the internet, having been caught on video punching one of her bandmate, Wanda’s, exes in the face after they wouldn’t stop harassing her. The video spread like wildfire, most people on Natasha’s side and other’s calling her a bitch, saying she shouldn’t get involved. You, of course, were on Natasha’s side.

She doesn’t seem at all concerned, just raises an eyebrow at the continued silence when you don’t say anything. “You’re not Yelena.” Is what you say, lamely, when you can finally get your brain to connect to your vocal chords. “Not the last time I checked, no. As far as I can tell neither are you.”

“It’s Monday night.” You say as if that would be any explanation at all as to why you’re in Yelena’s apartment. Natasha stands from the couch, putting the bottle of beer she was drinking down on Yelena’s coffee table. “Right,” she nods in agreement, “but that doesn’t explain what you’re doing in my sister’s apartment.” You almost choke on your own spit at Natasha’s words. Yelena’s Natasha was the Natasha?

As if to save you from whatever wrath the redhead was going to unleash on you for being a stranger in her sister’s apartment, Yelena emerges from her bedroom. “Y/N! It’s nice of you to finally make it. I thought maybe a traffic monster had swallowed you up.” You were five minutes later than usual and she was acting like it was the end of the world, typical. Natasha is momentarily forgotten as you roll your eyes at your best friend's words. “Hi, Y/N. So nice to see you, Y/N. I’m so sorry I was a ghost today, Y/N.” You mock her playfully, ready to give her an earful for making you think she might have died today before Natasha clears her throat.

“Big sisters don’t get introductions anymore?”

It was easy to get over your initial starstruck feeling after the first couple of days that Natasha stayed with Yelena. You learned that there was a two week long break between legs of the tour and Natasha decided she wanted to come visit her sister. With no prior notice, of course, because that’s just how Natasha does things. It really didn’t take long for you to feel comfortable around her and although she had been skeptical to let herself fully relax around you, even if she didn’t show it, she eventually did. You found that you enjoyed being around her and even found yourself hanging around Yelena’s apartment even when she wasn’t there just so you could spend time with Natasha.

And Natasha enjoyed spending time with you. She didn’t show it, much like she didn’t show most emotions that weren’t surface level, but she was excited to finally meet the famous Y/N Yelena would always rave about for the past however many years when they spoke on the phone. She would always regret not coming to visit more often, but she wouldn’t trade her current life for anything even if it meant time spent with Yelena was over the phone more often than not. She could make up for it in other ways, hopefully her sister felt the same.

It was the last day of Natasha’s two week visit and you were both sitting on the cargo bed of her rental truck. It was parked in the grassy parking area near the picnic area of one of New York’s many state parks. It was nearly deserted save for a few families, August wasn’t exactly peak tourist season in this part of New York. You were waiting for Yelena to arrive with Kate, the blonde finally deciding that now would be a good time for Natasha to meet her girlfriend. Of course she waited until the day before Natasha left.

You’re leaning into Natasha, your legs dangling off the edge of the cargo bed, kicking back and forth lightly. She’s leaning on one hand and letting you play with her fingers on the other. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to admit it out loud, but she will miss you when she’s gone. She hadn’t planned on growing so close to you and she’s never had a problem with being detached before, but something about you just draws her in. If she could stay here, with you leaning against her and the gentle breeze against her skin, she would. It’s a dangerous thought, she knows it is, but she wonders if you’d wait for her to come back. Whenever that is.

The mixture of Natasha’s perfume and the nature around you is comforting and you don’t want anything to burst the little bubble of comfort you and Natasha have created for yourselves. “Is it bad that I don’t want you to go?” You ask quietly, hoping if you don’t say it too loud then the question won’t hold as many emotions as you know it does. Natasha doesn’t respond for a few seconds, trying to come up with an answer that won’t make you upset but also won’t give you any false hope. “You could always come to one of my shows.” Is what she settles for, but the sigh she gets in response isn’t what she wanted.

“You know I can’t.” Your legs stop kicking and you let the warm breeze brush against them as it blows past. Natasha squeezes your hand, “I know.” She’s about to say something else, but the honk of a horn interrupts her and you practically jump off of the truck, a startled curse falling from your lips as you whip your head around. You groan when you see Yelena’s car and turn to bury your face in Natasha’s shoulder, previous feelings seemingly forgotten, “Your sister’s an asshole.”

Natasha laughs, reaching up to run a hand through your hair, the feeling much too familiar. It makes a pit form in her stomach, but she pushes it down. “It runs in the family. Now, come on. I have to go all big sister on this Kate girl.” She pats your shoulder and waits for you to pull away from her before getting down from the truck. She almost walks away, but thinks better of it, instead turning to help you down as well. There’s no reason to pull away, she reminds herself, you two are just friends. Friends who have spent the past couple of nights cuddled together on Yelena’s couch while watching movies, but still, just friends.

You both hear two car doors shut and then Yelena’s voice, “Sestra! Come meet Kate!” and then much quieter, Kate’s nervous one, “Babe, I really think maybe we should just go back. I mean she’s already met Y/N, so maybe I’ll be next time.”

Surprisingly, you’re able to stop Natasha from scaring Kate too much, but she still puts the fear of God into the brunette, promising something awful if she were to ever break her sister’s heart. Of course Kate swears she would never do anything like that and then goes on a nervous rant about how she was totally on Natasha’s side when it came to punching that guy.

The rest of the afternoon goes smoothly, you all had a good time and you almost completely forgot that Natasha would be leaving tomorrow. Until you didn’t. You had been sleeping over at Yelena’s apartment the past couple of nights and tonight was no different, wanting to see Natasha off when she left. Like a good friend would. Because that’s what you were. Friends.

Natasha had claimed she was going to stay up all night so that when she got on the bus in the morning, she’d be able to sleep through the long drive to the hotel in Indiana. You gave some lame excuse to hide wanting to spend more time with her as a reason why you’d stay up with her. Yelena had gone to sleep long ago and you were starting to get a little sleepy, but you weren’t going to give up now. You looked at your phone to check the time: 2:46am.

You were in a similar position to earlier, except instead of a truck bed you were sitting on the couch with your legs curled up next to you as you leaned into Natasha. “Y/N?” Natasha whispers into the quiet of the living room, the only sound besides her voice being the quiet murmur from the tv. You hum in response, eyes trained on the scene being shown on the tv screen. You were watching reruns of one of your favorite shows and although Natasha wasn’t all that interested, she’d let you keep it on.

“Y/N.” She says slightly louder and you sit up in confusion, looking around to see if maybe you’d missed something. You furrow your eyebrows when everything is the same as it was before, “what?” Natasha looks like she wants to say something, but she hesitates slightly. “Nevermind. Sorry, I thought I saw something.”

“Nat, seriously, what?” You’re beyond confused now and a little too tired to understand the emotions in Natasha’s eyes the way you usually would. It’s a split second decision, but the resolve she’s been trying to build up for the past few days has been effectively crumbled and the question that’s been on the tip of her tongue since you asked if it was bad you wanted her to stay finally escapes her lips, “can I kiss you?”

It takes you a second to register the fact that she actually wants to kiss you, but as soon as you do you’re nodding your head. She surges forward, cupping your cheeks and pressing her lips against yours. Your eyes flutter shut and you grab at her shirt, trying to tug her closer as your lips move against each other. Her tongue slides against your bottom lip and you gasp. She takes the opportunity to push her tongue into your mouth, exploring it. There’s no real fight for dominance, you let Natasha take the lead entirely.

You tug her down as you lay back on the couch and she shifts slightly so that she can straddle your hips, one of her hands tangling in your hair. Eventually she has to pull away for air and she’s glad she does with the way you struggle to breathe properly, fists clutching her shirt. Your breathing is labored and she would find it cute had she not realized you were sacrificing breathing just to kiss her. She almost wants to scold you for it.

She rubs her thumb across your cheek as she looks down at you. She really shouldn’t be doing this, not before she has to leave, and especially not in Yelena’s living room, but she doesn’t know if she really cares right now. “I’m going to kiss you again, okay?”

“Please.” You nod desperately, tugging her back down and meeting her lips halfway. This kiss is much more heated and messy, the both of you more desperate for each other than you already were. Natasha bites down on your bottom lip and you moan softly, arching up into her. Her smirk breaks the kiss and you almost whine, but it’s almost like she can read your mind because she’s immediately shushing you and pressing her lips to yours again.

Your hands slide under her shirt to grip at her waist and pull her closer to you, desperately wanting to feel her against you. The way you’re kissing is almost feverish, the both of you so desperate that you feel if you don’t consume the other it may be your demise. Natasha pulls away to quickly pull her shirt off and discard it on the floor and if you weren’t so desperate to have her lips on yours again, you would have taken more time to admire her abs.

When she leans back down to meet your lips in another frenzied kiss, she doesn’t even take the time to pull your shirt off entirely, merely pushes it up and over your breasts, her hands finding purchase on the soft skin of your waist before traveling up. She groans at the way your body reacts to her and the little whine you let out when she slides her fingertips over the cups of your bra.

When she pulls away again you try to catch your breath, feeling a little lightheaded from having Natasha like this. She’s leaning over you, hands cupping your cheeks as her thumb rubs soothingly across one of them. “If we keep going, I’m not going to be able to stop.” She laughs lightly, the look on your face telling her that very much wouldn’t be a problem. “But I don’t think this is the right place for that, doll. Another time, alright?”

The rest of the night is spent with Natasha whispering sweet nothings to you as you fall in and out of sleep, trying your best to stay awake with her. She promises to come back soon, even though she doesn’t know when soon will be, and that she’ll text you when she can and set aside time to call, and would you like that? Eventually, you succumb to sleep and Natasha has to slip away without a proper goodbye. She’d tried to wake you, you can’t fault her for that one. And if Yelena noticed you wearing Natasha’s shirt while you were asleep on the couch, she didn’t say anything.

“I hope you guys don’t mind us playing something new.” Natasha’s words are met with loud cheers and she smirks softly, “it’s a song I wrote recently and we haven’t had a chance to play it for anyone yet so we figured why not, right? It’s called Everlong. I hope you guys like it.” She looks behind her and nods to Carol who starts the drum beat.

“Hello

I’ve waited here for you

Everlong”

#alice's fics !#🎸🦇 au #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanov imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romanoff smut

717 notes · View notes

alphabetboyluvr · 10 months

Text

landslides - 001 | goldrush - jjk

part title credit: goldrush - taylor swift

everybody wonders what it would be like to love you... i can't dare to dream about you anymore... it never will be...

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn't ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he's yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being 'you' to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do.

warnings: fluff more than angst, but it's not clean cut - there's also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you've been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

wordcount: 6.8K

note from holly: so... i dogsat (? idk if thats a word) for my friend last chuseok and this was the result hahahaha. my friends dog (boba <3) is so tiny and small!! but i've always been a big dog girlie so bam was fun to write. i really love this one and have recently found all of my old notes from around that time detailing the rest of the couples lives, so pt. 2 is in progress.

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

Bam notices the storm roll in before you do. His ears twitch, head lifting from its rested perch on his paws.

“What’s up, baby? Hey?” You coo, his sudden shift obviously prompted by something. His snout begins to twitch, too, and his bottom lip shakes as a small growl vibrates from his throat. His eyes are on the window, stalking the clouds as they roll past. “Hey.”

You sit up a little straighter to lean forward and scratch behind his ear. He leans into it, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the sky.

“You see the rain, huh?” You hum, looking between the pup and the window ahead. You can’t place it yet - it’s too far in the distance - but you find yourself coming to sit beside him. He doesn’t lean up against you like he usually does. Just continues to lightly growl.

There’s no threat behind his noises, no malice - he’s just shouting back at the thunder you can’t hear. When you see a bolt of lightning flash in the distance just beyond the city skyline, you know that it won’t be long until Jungkook’s apartment block is drenched in the weather.

It’s just gone midnight when he calls. His face is a little puffy, smile a little lopsided.

“Hey Bammie,” he coos into the camera. You’ve got it angled down to where the pup is resting his head on your knee, peacefully unwinding after his long walk. Bam doesn’t stir at Jungkook’s voice, so he tries again. “Bammie?”

The way he elongates his puppy’s name is sweet - a tone of voice reserved only for his most trusted companion. He sure as hell has never spoken to you like that.

“Sorry, bud,” you say as you lift the camera up to your face. He’s pouting. “I don’t think the vibrations sound the same through the phone.”

“I miss him,” he says not even caring to acknowledge your thought process. “Is he okay? Was he good on his walk?”

“He’s all good,” you smile. “Best boy in the world. None of the other dogs you mentioned were down at the park, so it was just us two.”

He nods into the camera and purses his lips. “They might all be away. Visiting family.” He rolls over in his bed and lets out a yawn. “How’s the apartment? Got everything you need?”

You nod back. “All good. Might have eaten my way through your cheese stash already. I’m gonna shower then head to bed in a minute.”

“Make sure you leave the bathroom door open a little,” he says. “He’ll whine if not.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate you doing this. He hasn’t been too much work, has he?”

“He’s good as gold,” you say as you switch to the back camera. The view is serene, and Jungkook’s lips instantly settle into a smile. Bam is up on the sofa with you, snuggled against your lap. The skyline twinkles through his window, the reflection of his mood lamp obscuring some of it - but he’s quietly pleased that you’re using it. It’s how he normally winds down, too. Main lights off, galaxy on his ceiling. Must make Bam feel a little more at ease. You go to scratch behind his ear, and he huffs a little, all content and cosy. “Thanks for asking. He’s never too much work. You trained him well.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums. “Could have trained you a little better, though.”

He laughs when you switch the camera back to your face, mouth open, brows knitted together. “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” he grins now but tries to hide it; to restore the stoicism to his face. It doesn’t work. “What did I tell you about the sofas?”

You purse your lips together as if you’re not smiling. He’s got you there, admittedly.

“Look, he’s just so cute!” Despite the fact you’ve turned the camera back onto Bam, Jungkook can tell you’re pouting. “How could I say no?!”

“Easily!” Jungkook laughs. “That’s how he became so well trained! I leave for one night and-”

“Shuuuush,” you laugh, and when the camera switches back to you, Jungkook can’t help but let his smile persist. You look tired, and so does he, but there’s something about the call that has made you forget all about the fact you were planning on going to bed soon. “My swamp now. My rules.”

“My swamp,” he protests, but the look on his face is so saccharine that you can’t take him seriously. He thinks the same could be said for you. “Anyways, it’s late. Go get your shower. If you need more towels, there are some in the cupboard by the boiler. Don’t forget to turn the vent on - it’s the switch next to the light.”

“Alright, will do,” you nod and then yawn. Bam pricks his head up. “Hey baby,” you speak to him. “Did I wake you?”

“Show me him.”

You switch the camera around to where you’re scratching at Bam’s ear. He leans his head into the scratch, thoroughly enjoying it, your long nails far scratchier than Jungkook’s. It’s not the same - Jungkook is far stronger, so is a little rougher which suits Bam just fine. Still, he likes your scratches better than no scratches at all.

Jungkook whines. “I miss him.”

“He misses you, too. Want me to call in the morning?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “We’re up early tomorrow, heading over to Haedong Yonggungsa in the morning. Probably be up before you. Send me pictures though.”

“Will do. Night, buddy.”

“Night gremlin,” he smiles, and then begins to coo. “Night Bammie. Daddy misses you.”

He wishes you wouldn’t look at him in the way that you do when he says that; lips turned upwards at the very corners, dimples pressing into your cheeks, eyes bright.

“Shut up,” he says, but you’re already laughing.

“Daddy.”

“I am his dad!”

“Daddy.”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” he laughs. “Have nightmares, gremlin.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Fuck off!”

You hang up before he can protest your taunts any more, though he does text you one final ‘fuck off,’ and a reminder that you can bolt his front door if it will make you feel safer.

His apartment is in a high-rise, and his neighbourhood is far nicer than yours. You do the bolt up regardless, and think that it’s sweet that he considered your comfort enough to remind you about it.

Bam sits by the sliding door of the bathroom, the tips of his paws just teetering over the line of the door frame. He rests his head on his legs, snout angled towards the hallway. It still makes you feel a little weird. You don’t really want a dog watching you shower, even if he is a dog and has no real understanding of what’s happening - so you turn your back to him and just reassure yourself that Jungkook showers with the door open wide.

It’s a funny thing, to think about your co-worker’s showering habits. Not one that you’ve ever thought to indulge in before - but Jungkook would go ballistic if he heard you refer to him as your ‘co-worker.’ You’re friends. Pretty good ones, at that.

You’re level players at your company; earn the same wage, hold the same rank. There’s not really any competition between the pair of you - you work in different departments - but are often paired together when the two sections merge for joint projects. You make for a good team.

Over the years, you and Jungkook have also learned that you’re a highly capable team when it comes to playing beer pong against your colleagues on Friday nights, and at the mixed-doubles tennis tournament that your company insists on you participating in every year. It’s either that or be on the Christmas Party Planning committee, and you know which you’d rather do.

Thinking about tinsel in August? No, thank you.

There is however one crucial flaw to your partnerships: how you live your lives. How you manage your money.

See, Jungkook is frugal. He makes big investments - his apartment, his cars, games consoles, Bam. Doesn’t spunk his cash away on the small shit. His apartment is in the heart of the city, only a few floors from the very top. He gets a birds-eye view of the world around him. You don’t even want to imagine how much his deposit cost.

Probably more than you have in your savings. You do spunk your cash away - on the small shit, no less. Clothes, cafes, that sort of stuff. Nothing that holds permanence. It frustrates Jungkook to no end. He thinks you could have a better life if you just used your money wisely - but you’re happy in your slightly cramped apartment, happy when the serotonin of a shopping spree boosts your mood, happy when you’re laughing with your friends over coffee and cake.

You wouldn’t be happy if you felt restricted. You think that Jungkook is.

He disagrees. He has enough in the bank to buy whatever he wants. He has financial freedom.

But there’s a difference. You’re both free in your own ways.

It’s for that reason you’d never work as a couple. Would infuriate one another far too much. Everyone who is close to you both knows this; how badly suited you would be. They’ll joke about all of the women in the office trying to get their mitts on Jungkook - even the married ones - but not you.

It’s funny because they’re right. Everybody wants him.

He collects stars from their eyes and accumulates them in his own. The girls blush and giggle about how he looks at them with galaxies, but they don’t realise what a thief he is. Don’t realise he’s stolen their shine, and incorporated it into his own. A spotlight follows him, and you enjoy watching the show unfold with an amused grin whenever a new secretary catches his gaze for the first time.

It’s not intentional. You don’t think Jungkook realises he does it. In fact, he hadn’t realised that it was such a pattern of behaviour until the midnight squalor of a dive bar had you talking about office conquests, and how the photocopier room had seen his bare ass more than it had seen toner changes.

“Shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon,” you’d grinned.

“Firstly, that’s a horrible phrase - and secondly, it takes two to tango. They’re just as much to blame as I am.”

But they’re not. He’s the only repeat offender.

“And anyways,” he had deflected, sinking down the final dregs of his beer. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint. Everyone’s fucked a colleague at least once.”

You’d just raised an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Like I said - shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon.”

Now, if he’d have said housemate, you would have folded. Downed your drink. Ordered a repeat round.

Something about a shared space - domestication - really gets you. It’s joint laundry loads, shared dinners, movie nights; grocery shopping, D.I.Y. furniture, arguments about who gets the bigger room. More often than not, it never matters, ‘cause you just end up staying in theirs.

You live alone now. After the third time, you knew better than to let yourself fall into the trap once more.

He learns about your affliction a few months later, and goes on tease you relentlessly.

In fact, he mentions it when he propositions you a few weeks before Chuseok. You had both spent the last couple of holiday periods overworked, slogging through the festivities. For the first time since either of you can remember, your workload has eased up.

You’ve already told him you’re planning on doing sweet, sweet fuck all. You’ve told your family you will be working, because you just want to finally breathe for a while; stay in with a tub of ice cream and your favourite films. Speak to no one. Do nothing.

“I’ve got a favour to ask you,” he had said as he approached your desk before the end of the day. It was a Friday, but you weren’t heading for after-work drinks with the usual suspects like you typically did. You had a date, instead. A third one with the same guy - Mingyu - which felt like a miracle. Even Jungkook was a little shocked that the poor guy wasn’t sick of you.

“Go on,” you had mused as you checked over your to-do list for the following week.

“You gotta promise me something first.”

“Promise you what?”

“That you won’t fall in love with me.”

You’d swatted him away the ruler on your desk, and told him to get his head out of his ass. “Been able to resist your charms this long, Jeon. Give me some credit.”

“It’s only ‘cause you know I’d reject you, you little gremlin.”

“I thought you wanted a favour? Funny way of going about it.”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right,” he had conceded with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”

“What do you want?”

“How would you feel about potentially staying at mine over Chuseok to look after Bam? My parents want us to head down to Busan for the weekend and see relatives seeing as I’m finally free and know it’s a big ask but I-”

“Oh my God, yes?!” You had smiled so wide Jungkook thought you might fracture your jaw.

You love Bam.

In fact, he might just be your favourite thing about Jungkook.

Occasionally you walk him with Jungkook on the weekends, when you’re both hungover and need to get out of a slump. You’ve grown up with pets, but moving to the city in your early twenties to pursue your career meant apartment living.

You’re a rural girl deep down, and would never want to keep a pet in a high rise.

Jungkook manages it, but he goes home at lunchtime to walk Bam during the winter. In the summer, when it’s too hot, he goes home at lunch regardless, to lounge around with Bam under the air con.

Sometimes, you go with him. Bam is always pleased to see you.

Jungkook lied and said he asked around because he didn’t want to inconvenience you.

Truth is, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with his baby. He’d never spent a night away from Bam. Hated the idea. Despised it, in fact. He would have just taken Bam with him to Busan, but didn’t think it would be fair to force him on the journey from Seoul.

Over in Busan, when Jungkook hangs up, the conversation isn’t over. It continues in his head.

“Hey, wait…”

“Mhhm?”

“You just… look nice tonight, that’s all.”

He thinks you’d blush. Would tell him to lay off the soju. Accuse him of getting too drunk for a family get-together. He’d let you. Would take the beating of your false accusations, because it would be far easier than admitting he’s not had a single drop.

He thinks of the hug he’ll give Bam when he gets home; how wild his tail will waggle, how he’ll jump all over the place, and how you’ll be giggling. In his mind, you’ll be smiling just as wide as he is.

You’d stay for dinner. Jungkook would order from your favourite place to say thank you. Bam would snuggle up to Jungkook - on the sofa - and you’d be on the other side, stroking his back. He’d be happy. Bam, not Jungkook. But also Jungkook. Hopefully you, too.

When the time would approach for you to go home, you’d offer to help. Rinse out the containers. Hair up in a claw clip, t-shirt off your shoulder like it so often is.

Jungkook doesn’t notice, but his hands begin to trail down his body as he thinks of you. His phone is still on his chest, rising and falling with every beat of his heart. The tips of his fingers stroke against his skin.

He thinks of you laughing with him about something inconsequential. You’d flick water in his direction when he’d make some joke at your expense. It’d all be in good humour.

But then he’d flick some back at you, and water war would break out. Bam would run excitedly between the pair of you, Jungkook chasing you around the kitchen island with wet hands - and you’d do the exact same back. You’d flick water over the counter, tap still running and he’d call you a gremlin.

There’s a smile on his lips as he thinks of his. His hands roam further south. He’s ticking at his abdomen. It’s nice. Feels calm. He likes to engage his senses when he thinks of scenarios like these. Makes it feel more real.

But then he’s thinking of your shirt and the fact it’s white.

And then he’s imagining catching up with you, holding you captive as he angles the tap towards your face. You’ll be shrieking and scrambling to get away, Bam by your feet, Jungkook laughing.

He’d relent, but only enough for you to twist to face him.

Jungkook’s fingers are by his thighs. Stroking. Caressing. He’s avoiding his cock. Knows it’s firm. His index finger spreads to his balls. Teases.

And then he thinks of your body pressed against his torso, your ass to the counter.

You’d both be soaked.

He’d look at your lips. Look in your eyes. Feel your chest against his. He’d swallow hard.

It’s at this point he forgets about Bam in the scenario. It’s just you and him.

His palm rests over the length of his cock. Presses down. His hips roll.

He’d tell you that you’ve made a mess. You’d tell him to clean it up. His heart would be racing. So would yours.

And it’s funny, because his heart actually is. It’s beating so fucking hard in his childhood bedroom, that he thinks his parents must be able to hear it through the walls.

He’s in a far-too-firm single bed, but in his head, he’s with you in his kitchen.

He begins to grip his cock, long fingers wrapping around his shaft. He pulls up. Pushes back down. Says your name. Whines.

He doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Just thinks about you.

Thinks about the way it would feel to sink his lips into yours; the first bite of a forbidden fruit. Thinks about that quick tongue of yours, and if it would be just as quick to find its way into his mouth. Thinks about your manicured nails that Bam loves so much, and how they’d scratch against his scalp instead. Thinks about the way his hips would rock against you, kind of like they are now; pulsing beneath his duvet.

His mind jumps. Skips the foreplay. Doesn’t mean to - but the thoughts are intrusive. Insidious. Insatiable. He can’t help it.

He pushes up into his hand. Pauses. Waits out the feeling. Retracts. Repeats.

In his head, it’s you that he’s pushing into.

The sensation is entirely different, granted, but - fuck - he hasn’t gotten himself off all week and hasn’t had sex in far longer, so it all feels the same to him.

He hasn’t worked out the mental logistics.

His imagination is jumping from the kitchen to his bedroom and then back to the kitchen again. Can’t decide where all of this is happening - and then suddenly, he finds himself railing you in the utility room.

You’re perched above the washer, held in place by him. He can smell the laundry detergent. He’s got spotlights in the room, but they’re turned off. Only lights from the hallway and the city skyline illuminate you.

It’s obscure. The shadows in his head conceal you a little. He’s gripping your waist beneath your shirt. The baby gate which keeps Bam out of the laundry room is closed.

You’re not talking, just fucking, fucking, fucking and -

“Fuck,” he whines, hand is jerking at his cock, heart rate stuttering.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

Shouldn’t let his mind jump again to a point where you’re fucking naked, and your sodden shirt is on a pile of yet-to-be-done laundry.

But then it jumps again, and one of his towels is on the floor. He’s laying down, back against it. The same position that he’s in now in his childhood bedroom - but he’s thinking about you. The silhouette of your body. The warm curves of your body. The way you bounce on his cock and then-

Oh god, it’s torture the way his cock throbs. Pre-cum leaks from his tip as his speed builds. It’s just a fantasy. Nothing more nothing less. But it’s you. And then he’s thinking about pulling you down for a kiss, and the scent of your perfume and the way you’d moan into his mouth and then his legs are shaking, torso tensing.

He’s taking it too far. Too fucking far. You. Fuck. He can’t. But he doesn’t stop. Just keeps going. Fucks his hand like it’s your pussy.

He’s pulling himself closer, closer, closer, and then he thinks about your voice, and the way you called him Daddy, and he can’t help himself. The pressure that releases in his stomach is catastrophic. Jungkook mewls your name. Calls you baby. Unloads all over himself. White hot cum paints his belly. Seeps into his belly button. Makes a mess of his hand as he coaxes the last few ropes out. It’s been a while since his last nut, but the amount he produces is not fucking normal.

It rolls down the side of his toned torso, Jungkook swallowing harshly as he tries to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t think he can. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. Just kind of lays there. Curses. Knots his brows together. Is frustrated with himself.

You’ve been friends for years. He’s never done anything like this before. He chalks it up to nothing more than him just being a little too horny for his own good. Cleans himself off. Puts his phone on charge. Berates himself for being a piece of shit. Spends a good ten or so minutes staring at the ceiling with an empty head before he falls asleep.

And it’s funny, because when you wake up in the morning, panties damp, the dream you had about Jungkook railing you in his own damn bed, you find yourself looking across the space where he usually sleeps. You reach ouch. Stroke the emptiness. Curse. Spend the rest of the day unbearably horny. It frustrates you. Makes you snappy with Jungkook when he calls.

He asks if you’ve seen Mingyu. You tell him no. He says maybe you should - but makes sure to add, “He’s still not allowed in my apartment.”

“I’m not gonna bring anyone into your space, Jungkook.”

It’s something he knows, and something he trusts you not to do, but he’s still reinforcing boundaries. Making sure that there are still some left. He thinks that if he pushes you closer to someone else, it will sort his brain out. Alleviate him of the guilt that he’s feeling.

But you don’t see Mingyu.

When Jungkook calls again that evening to find you walking Bam alone, he’s pleased. Doesn’t want some guy you’re fucking anywhere near his most prized possession. Bam, that is. Not you. But now that he thinks of it, he finds he doesn’t want Mingyu anywhere near you, either.

“Good day?” You ask, voice a lot lighter than it had been earlier.

Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t really smile. “I miss Bammie.”

You pout. “He misses you too. He’s gonna be so excited when you get home.”

The camera switches to the back camera so he can watch Bam bound along the path. He’s on his lead, snout sniffing in all the flowerbeds. It’s dark out, but there are enough lights on the trail for him to be able to see clearly.

“How is he? Eating okay? Going to the bathroom okay?”

“Eating like a champ, and producing shits to confirm that,” you say flatly. It’s definitely your least favourite part of animal ownership - but the reward is so much greater than having to pick up shit off a sidewalk.

“That’s my boy,” Jungkook grins, before turning his focus to you. “You all good? Seemed a little stressed earlier.”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change when the front camera flips back to you, but he finds his heart racing again. When you turn your head to check the car that’s driving past, he notices your hair is up with a claw clip. Just like it was in his… thoughts about you the night before. He likes how attentive you are - how you checked the source of the noise. You’re protective. Follow your instincts. Thinks you’re the best person he could have asked to look after Bam.

“I’m all good,” you say, and you really are.

“I know it’s not exactly the relaxing Chuseok you were planning-”

“Jungkook, it’s fine,” you smile. “It’s been nice. I like Bammie far more than I like you.”

“Understandable.”

You both smile, and Jungkook begins to babble about his day, telling you stories about his parents, and his weird cousin who never knows when to not say inappropriate things, and the aunt who keeps trying to set him up with all of her friends’ daughters.

“Don’t shit where you eat,” you remind him. “Sounds too close to home. Your auntie would never be out of your business.”

“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes. “And hey - it’s been, like, a year since I last did that! Cut me some slack, gremlin. Anyways, Mingyu works in our building. You’re basically shitting where you eat.”

“I’m actually… I think I’m gonna cool things off with him.”

“Oh?”

“It’s like not a big deal. I’m just not really feeling it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, you’re right. I’m not,” Jungkook admits, but is sombre as he does so. He remembers how happy you’d seemed after the first few dates. “But I am sorry that you haven’t found the right guy yet, gremlin.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll find the love of my life at the dog park tonight.”

“You are not allowed to use my baby as a flirting tactic.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Too late - I’m already here and there is an absolute DILF. Byeeeee.”

“Wait, no-”

You hang up before he can finish, with a grin on your face to rival a Cheshire cat.

The park is empty. Not a single DILF in sight. You ignore his call when he rings back. Will let him sweat it for a bit.

Jungkook lies awake that night.

Doesn’t do much.

His family are still chatting in the sitting room, but he can’t draw himself away from the sanctuary of his own private space, where your voice is still echoing around the room. He’s starting to understand why you’d been craving your space so much for the holiday period.

He doesn’t wanna have to return to the room with a false smile, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that could rival the ache of getting the ferry across Busan harbour during monsoon season.

Doesn’t want to form cognitive thoughts that distract him from his mindless reflections of you.

Jungkook’s mind works like a house, and right now he’s in the annexe.

He rarely ever goes in there.

Finds he gets too comfortable and neglects the rest of the house. He’s got a garden to tend to, a kitchen to clean, and beds to make - but why would he leave the annexe when it has everything he needs? He’s comfortable there.

It’s normally reserved for the hyper-fixations he’s trying not to fixate on. He locks them away. Hasn’t really visited since he got hooked on GTA5 when he should have been studying for the University Entrance Exam. It’s still there, and he knows better than to pop it in his games console - but there’s someone else on the couch, now. It’s not just him in his mind-annexe. Someone’s in his space. He daren’t let himself go further into the room.

In fact, he’s desperately trying to jump across to the main house. Get himself out of the thoughts that are gonna consume him. He needs to close that God damn door.

But he watches the figure like a car crash. He’s scared. Unable to look away.

Not for fear of it being a monster hidden in the depths of his mind.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Monsters don’t wear their hair up with butterfly-shaped claw clips, or let the clasp of their necklace trail down their spine like that. Monsters don’t twist their back out of habit just to make it click. Monsters don’t spend their days doodling in a journal like the figure on his couch is doing.

But you do.

An iteration of Bam rests up against Jungkook’s leg in his mind, nose wet, tail lightly wagging, so he puts his hand on his pup’s shoulder for comfort. To support him. To guide him away from the annexe and back into the damn main house.

“C’mon,” he says to Bam, expecting him to leave. Expecting him to follow his commands.

It’s his head, after all - but Bam doesn’t heed his commands. Instead, his claws click against the hardwood floor and towards the figure on Jungkook’s couch. A palm outstretches, and Bam leans into it. Hums in content as a set of dark nails scratch at his ear.

“Hey, baby Bammie,” the figure sings and Jungkook knows that voice. Knows it so well that it’s hardly a surprise it’s embedded into his brain so perfectly.

And he knows.

He knows if he lets the person turn around exactly who it’s gonna be. He knows that he can’t let it happen. He won’t.

Because he and you are friends; nothing more, nothing less. Incompatible at best. A match made in hell; so wrong it could never be right.

Jungkook sits up. Shakes his head. The world in his mind tears away into darkness. He stands and tells himself to get a grip before joining his family. He needs the distraction. Needs to have cognitive thoughts. Can’t let himself get trapped. Can’t let him kid himself into thinking that you’re anything more than his friend.

It’s just cause he’s missing Bam, he reasons. Emotions are getting all mixed up. It’s the affection he feels for his beloved best friend that is getting misplaced onto you - although, if he thinks about it (which he won’t (knows better by this point (knows his mind can’t be trusted to behave))), he’d realise that you are his best friend.

It’s unfair to compare you to Bam because you’re an entirely different species, but there’s no other human he likes better than you.

One more day, and he’ll be home. One more day, and he won’t have to call you when he’s all sleepy and confused over his feelings. One more day, and things will be back to normal. One more measly day.

And then he’ll be reunited with Bam, and he won’t have the stress of family or thinking about the week of work ahead to contend with.

One more day. He can do this.

He will do it. Will barrel home at the speed of lightning; will stop only for red lights and maybe the occasional gas station snack, potato spirals on a pointed wooden skewer and deep-fried chicken slathered in a sauce he can never quite figure out the recipe for.

He’ll think about picking you up some bungeoppang - the ones filled with choux, not red bean paste - because he knows that you adore it so. There have been occasions when you’ve begged him to drive you out of the city to the large gas station out West just so you could have bungeoppang from one specific stall.

The signage is faded, and the prices haven’t changed since 2009, but that’s how you know it’s the good shit. A family recipe batter passed down for generations. The woman who makes it is always the same, and though she never remembers you, you always remember her. Beam so brightly Jungkook thinks he’s going blind whenever you spot her.

It’s only because of that one time you’d showed up with the sole mission to retrieve some of the delicious delicacies, only to be confronted with a handwritten ‘closed today, back tomorrow’ note taped to the menu. You never know when the next family emergency or trip out of town might be for your beloved bungeoppang-making Ajumma.

It’s a little after midday when Jungkook’s car rolls into the gas station. He’ll be home soon.

He tells himself that he’s just doing as he always does. Will get his tornado potato. Wolf it down. Go back for some chicken, maybe some tteok.

He’s stayed out of the annexe today. Doesn’t even think about the doorway because he knows the magnetic pull is far too strong for his cobalt heart.

Had ignored your call this morning - sorry, just saying goodbye to everyone. will see you later. - and had pushed all thoughts of you to the side. He’s even tried to stop thinking about Bam because thoughts of him will inevitably lead to thoughts of you and Jungkook is getting dizzy, quite frankly. It’s like he’s chasing his tail, never knowing when to admit defeat.

At least Bam gets enjoyment out of it when he does it. All Jungkook gets is lingering feelings of remorse.

But as he hits the home straight, a small paper bag full of choux bungeoppang cooling down on his passenger seat, his head starts to clear. He’s fixed the lock on the gate that leads to the annexe. Won’t go down that path.

Jungkook arrives ahead of schedule. Parks his car, and doesn’t tell you he’s arrived. Leaves his bag in the boot of the car, but picks up the pastries from his passenger seat.

Opens the door of his apartment quietly. You don’t hear it. Are too busy dancing around the living room with Bam to some mid-noughties classic.

“Hey,” you laugh a little breathlessly as finally notice him. He’s leaning against the wall. Is wearing his glasses, to make up for the long drive. You think it’s a crying shame he doesn’t wear them at work, too.

“Was I interrupting something?”

“No, not all,” you say. There are deep creases below your eyes, testament to the size of your smile. “Me and baby Bammie-” you reach over and stroke at his sides, a little rough and tumble, but perfectly joyous “- were just burning off a little energy before you got home.”

Jungkook crouches, arms outstretched for Bam. The puppy knocks into Jungkook’s chest, legs all moving slightly out of coordination, excitable whines sounding in his throat. His tail wags so fast you think he’d be able to produce electricity if he really tried.

They match each other’s energy; delirious happiness, content only when in one another’s presence.

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “Daddy’s home. I missed you. Missed me too, hey? C’mere.”

His strong hands stroke Bam’s sides, and you watch how playful they both are with unadulterated awe. It seems absurd how similar the two of them are; man and his best friend.

“He was lost without you,” you confirm.

“It’s that right?” Jungkook pouts as he scratches behind Bam’s ears, cradling his face in his hands. “Did Bammie miss Daddy?”

Bam barks. Yes.

“Hey, I’m sorry, boy. I’m home now, though. Daddy’s home.”

Yes, you think. Yes, he is.

The night dissolves much like Jungkook thought it would. You stay for dinner. Watch crappy entertainment shows, and laugh at how absurd people can be. There’s warmth in his apartment, even though he hasn’t turned the heating on.

“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this,” Jungkook says softly as midnight approaches. Bam sighs. There’s rain on the windows, but the storm doesn’t bother him tonight. Not in the slightest. “Thank you.”

Your head shakes. Smile perseveres. “Happy to do it. You know how much I love Bam.”

Silence wraps around your words like a velvet bow, pulled taut. There’s no double knot, but there needn’t be. It isn’t unravelling any time soon.

“So,” you change topic. “How long do you reckon it will take the new secretary to fall in love with you? I’m thinking maybe four days.”

Jungkook wants to make a joke; tease you about how your mind jumped from how much you love his dog, to the idea of loving him. Not you loving him, granted, but it only took a few electrical signals between neurons for you to get there. Must associate him with love pretty closely.

“Four days? Far too quick.” Jungkook pauses. “You’ve been staying here for four days. Reckon that’s an appropriate amount of time to fall in love with someone?”

He’s being facetious. It’s all in jest and yet you feel your heart beat a little faster. Only for a moment. There’s a mild concern in your features, fearful that he can somehow sense the thoughts you’ve been having; the fantasies, the daydreams, the moments of weakness.

You look at him with eyes he doesn’t recognise. Your lashes are low. Sultry, even. Suggestive. Teasing.

And then, they roll.

“Jeon, you have those poor girls on their knees within a single ‘hello’. Don’t act like you don’t know it, you big old flirt.”

“If Bam wasn’t so peaceful, I’d kick you,” he mumbles, stroking at the dark fur behind his pup’s ear. Bam sighs, content to have him back. There’s a smile on Jungkook’s lips. Both are perfectly content. Both are happy to be with the people they like the most in the world.

“He’d just defend me,” you taunt. There’s a serenity to your jokes, and light-hearted banter that means nothing more, nothing less than just enjoyment of one another’s company. “I’m his favourite now.”

Jungkook laughs. Scratches a little firmer behind Bam’s ear. “You hear that, boy? Gremlin really thinks you’d choose her over me.”

You pull your torso back. Turn your body to face his. Let disbelief wash over your features, as if Jungkook saying shit like that’s a surprise. The movement alerts Bam, his head lifting, the chain links of his collar rattling. He looks over to you, then back to Jungkook.

“He LOVES me.”

“I thought dogs are supposed to take after their owners, though?” Jungkook teases. “And I can’t fuckin’ stand you.”

Your playful shock dissolves into narrowed eyes and a suppressed grin. Bam’s looking at you again, so you cup his dainty face and scratch the underside of his jaw. “You hear that, baby Bammie? How are you so lovely when your Daddy is such an asshole?”

Jungkook’s steady gaze lifts to you from Bam. You’re still cooing at the puppy, scratching beneath his snout, but Jungkook’s back in that damn annexe again. He isn’t smiling - but his eyes are unbelievably soft.

So, so velvety. Like satin, maybe; ribbons tied around ponytails. Brushed cotton, perhaps; his still-warm bedsheets fresh out of the tumble dryer.

Soft, like he imagines your hair would be; released from its claw clip, falling around his face. Soft, like he imagines your lips would be; pressed against his, in the privacy of his bedroom. Soft, like he imagines your laugh would be; soundtracking the living alarm clock that is Jeon Bam, as he bundles onto Jungkook’s bed at just gone six-thirty the following morning.

But then you look up at him, and his stare is hard. Still sparkling, yes - but diamonds, not stars. Concrete speckled. Pennies tossed in an empty well; the steel bolt of his door which keeps the outside world at bay.

Hard, like he imagines your teeth would be; tugging on his bottom lip in the shadows of his bedroom. Hard, like he imagines your nails would be; leaving a trail of ruby red sin down his back. Hard, like he imagines your laboured breaths would be; lips resting ajar against his, your very essence pouring into him as he pushes into you.

Hard. Soft. Confusing and conflicting, and just so unbelievably him.

“What?” you question, bemused by the way his demeanour changed. “‘Daddy’ really gets you, huh?”

“Does fuck all for me,” he says with a little temperance, but there’s a smirk on his lips. His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek.

A few have tried the moniker on him, but it never fit well. Would fall from their lips and crash to his bedroom floor. He’d just kiss them to shut them up.

But you… You have him reconsidering. Have him a little hot beneath his sweats.

It’s not really the idea of being your Daddy, but the concept of being one full-stop that has him adjusting his legs slightly. He’s a man of big investments, after all. No greater investment than starting a life with another person. He likes the idea of it.

Makes him think of you talking with a toddler - I’m not sure, baby, go ask Daddy -and the pitter-patter of feet across the hardwood floors of his apartment. Makes him think how gentle you are with Bam, and how wonderful he knows you’d be with a kid. Makes him think all kinds of shit he’s never let himself indulge in before.

When he goes to bed that evening, and his sheets are seeped in the scent of your perfume, he thinks of it all over again.

Thinks of you.

And realises he can’t think about you without his heart racing, any more.

The door of the annexe in his mind is broken, now. Off its hinges.

And apparently, so is he.

Shit.

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #officeworker!jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook #f2l #hi bam!!!!#ian #jungkook fluff

1K notes · View notes

maxiemclaren · 6 days

Note

Can you please do one where Oscar and Y/N get a cat together? Ty x

The Orange Tabby

Warnings: fluff with a little angst

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

Summary: you try to convince Oscar to get a cat and he caves.

a/n i honestly blacked out while writing this so let’s hope you enjoy!

“Babe please, just look at how cute they are!” you pleaded with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster, showing him all the cats that were up for adoption at your local shelter. “y/n, love you know how much traveling we do there is just no logical way we could have a pet right now, I’m sorry” he says pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, searching your face for a reaction, you just sigh and fall into his chest and mumble out “fine, I guess one of us has to be realistic”

Over the next few weeks you keep trying to bring up adopting a cat practically anytime you could. When he was working out, making meals, practicing on the sim, even some times when he was in meetings you would find ways to mention the beautiful orange tabby cat that they recently had received. In the kitchen Oscar was making dinner for the both of you, when suddenly you mentioned the orange cat again. “Enough y/n! I understand you might want a cat, but have you thought that maybe I don’t want one!?” Oscar yelled out of frustration, you stood there almost paralyzed, sure you’ve had your fair share of disagreements but he never raised his voice towards you. “Yeah, I guess I never thought about that, sorry Oscar.” you said and retired to the bedroom for the rest of the night. A sigh left Oscar, feeling regretful of yelling at you, he knew better than to come in the shared bedroom when you were both on edge.

In truth Oscar was trying to research how you guys could bring the cat along with you for the races, well along with getting the adoption papers in order, apparently he was a very popular cat having around 15 other people wanting to adopt him.

Oscar kept tip-toeing around the whole cat disagreement for the next week and just blissfully listened to explain why you were so hell bent on getting one. “Well my grandmother had an orange tabby cat when I was younger and he was my favorite thing” you said feeling emotional. He nodded along and held your hand while you explained, he decided enough was enough and he wanted to tell you the good news. “Love, I need to tell you something” he said practically bursting at the seams, you look at him to proceed with what he needed to say “I actually put in adoption papers for the orange tabby as soon as you showed him to me” he blurted out in a rush. “You’re kidding, Oscar Jack Piastri. You better not be messing with me” you said pointing a stern finger at him. “I’m being 100% serious my love, we pick him up next week”

Next week rolls around with lightning speed, you two have been out almost all day making sure you have everything you need for your cat. Except there was one problem, you couldn’t decide on a name. “Ooh how about Oliver, hmm maybe Thomas” you said very enthusiastically. Oscar just laughed “Seriously Thomas? What is he an old man? A tank engine train?” you huffed back racking your brain for a name you could both agree on when all of a sudden Oscar had a light bulb moment. “Wait what if we named him Papaya?” You thought about it for a moment and came to agreement on the name.

It has been the best 4 months with Papaya by your side quite literally, it was like your grandmother’s cat was reincarnated into him, he never left your side making Oscar a little jealous that the cat was getting more attention than him. “But loveee, he gets cuddles all day! What about me?” Oscar said pouting, you just chuckled and opened your arms for your clingy boyfriend. “Have I told you that you’re the best boyfriend?” you said while running your fingers through his hair while he laid on top of you. He mumbled out “Yes, at least twice a day since we got papaya” Looking up towards you, pure love behind his eyes.

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff

294 notes · View notes

tinyluvs · 8 months

Note

pookie i’m in heat again i’m humbly begging on my knees for anything spencer smut 🙏

i love that there’s no details so i can do whatever i want *mdni* we’re doing cockwarming with spencer! also it’s much longer to make up for the lack of posts recently!! mwah, enjoy, ilysm!

“i can feel you staring at me,” spencer mumbles but he doesn’t look up from his paperwork, wildly scribbling over the bits of paper that scatter over his desk in the corner of the room

your cheeks heat, he’s right, you were staring. the film you put on had been forgotten about a while ago, your attention turning to your boyfriend

“sorry,” you huff, frowning slightly as you look away from him, staring through the tv rather than at it, “when will you be done?” you whine softly

spencer’s day off has been completely consumed by work, apart from the brief breakfast you’d shared when you’d both woken up, “when i’m done,” spencer answers softly, no heat behind it

it’s not your fault you’d been staring, truly, it’s just your boyfriend looks incredible. his hair looks soft, touchable, as it falls around his face while he looks down at his work, only tilting his head back occasionally to keep his glasses from falling off

“can’t you take a break?” you ask quietly, looking at him with a slight pout, “just a little one?”

he looks up briefly, “angel,” he warns, having already told you multiple times he needs to finish his work as soon as possible, "i'll finish faster if you stop interrupting,"

loudly, you groan, turning your body so that you're laying on the sofa, your head flat against the seat cushions while your knees are bent up, knocking together gently as they block spencer from your view

you peek around your legs, jaw dropping as your boyfriend stretches, a grunt passing his lips while veins ripple over his exposed arms, a huge perk of the short sleeved tops he wears around the apartment

involuntarily, your thighs press together, the previous want of just a kiss quickly being forgotten about as it unravels into more in your mind.

a warmth builds in your stomach while a heat spreads between your legs, your eyes focusing on a particular spot on the ceiling while you whimper quietly to yourself, or so you thought

"sweetheart," spencer hums, amusement evident in his tone. you hum, not daring to look his way, "you okay?" he asks and once again, you hum quietly, "come over here,"

you shoot up, body moving before your brain and before you know it, you're across the room in seconds, rounding the desk as he rolls his chair away from it, thighs spread while he looks up at you

his hands slide over your waist, pulling you towards him until you're stood between his legs, "you sure you're okay?" he asks again, leaning back in his chair

before you can reply, one of his hands drops, slowly pushing between your thighs before sliding upwards. you gasp, your legs clenching around his wrist, "no!" you squeak, grabbing at his shoulder

slightly satisfied, spencer hums and nods, "tell me what's wrong," he pushes. you gasp again as his fingers bump at your pussy, covered by your panties and pyjama bottoms, a wet patch soaking through both layers of clothing

gently you rock forwards, "just want you," you whine, nails digging into his shoulder, your head tilting back ever so slightly while your breaths come faster, "please," you plead

spencer thinks, eyes trained on where you're shamelessly grinding your pussy over his hand, "need it that bad?" he asks, a little condescending, though now is not the time to pull him up on it

"yes,"

his hand leaves your body, his touch immediately being missed, causing you to whine, "i know," he pouts at you, his hands palming over his own cock, which, only now do you notice, is hard, tenting in his trousers

you watch as he rolls his hips upwards, his thumb catching under the waistband of his bottoms, pulling them down enough to free his cock, pre come leaking over the tip

"honey," spencer breathes hard, the hand that's not wrapped around his cock pulling at your own trousers, yanking them down your legs enough for you to step out of them. he pulls on your wrist, moving you so that you're trapped between him and the desk

he kicks your legs apart, gently, while bending you over, your hands creasing papers with the fbi crest printed on them, "spence," you whimper in anticipation, not being able to see what he's doing behind you

your body jerks as his fingers slip through your folds, spreading your slick upwards to your clit, "come back," spencer huffs as you jerk again, surging away from him. he pulls you back with a hand on your hip

"please," you cry out, every nerve in your body buzzing. his fingers circle your clit once more before he's pulling you back even further

the air gets punched out of your lungs, a noise halfway between a moan and a shout passing your lips as he pulls you back onto his cock, stretching you open in one thrust

your thighs shake, where they rest over his as you sit in his lap, your nails digging into the wood of his desk, “fuck, oh my god,” you whine

spencer grunts, one of his hands pushing and pulling on your hip, grinding you over him to get you settled on top of him, his other hand snakes around your waist, keeping you from bouncing on him like you want to

“just stay still, yeah?” spencer asks, voice low and hushed against your ear, his lips pressing against the spot just behind your earlobe that drives you crazy

his teeth graze your skin, a completely unfair move considering you have to stay still, “i don’t think i can,” you whine, clenching tightly around him, your nails moving from the desk to his thighs

your boyfriend hums, “i think you can, just for a little bit,” he kisses your temple and reaches around you, continuing to scribble on papers like he had been before

with a soft whimper, you accept your fate, sitting still on top of him, just keeping his cock warm while he works around you, as if you’re not even there

every movement he makes somehow pushes his cock slightly further into you, the tip pressing against a spot that has your thighs practically vibrating

“just a little longer,” spencer mumbles when you tilt your head back, silently willing the tears building up in your eyes, not to fall, “doing so good for me,”

the end of his pen drums against your stomach where his arm stays, trapping you in place. his hips shift cruelly, “spencer, please,”

he doesn’t answer you, simply scribbling onto a piece of paper before flipping open a file. tears spill down your cheeks, betraying you far too quickly

“you okay?” spencer asks softly, thumb brushing against your stomach while his lips press against your shoulder blade

blindly he grabs at your hand, pulling it away from his thigh and back towards your stomach, “yeah,” you sniffle, looking down at your joined hands

“are you sure?” he presses, writing and reading paused while he checks on you. gently, you nod, “i won’t be long, i promise,”

he starts to rush or at least it looks like he does, a sense of urgency taking over when he feels you leaking around him, both of your thighs coated in your slick

“nearly there,” spencer hums, separating your hands so he can jam his between your legs, fingers circling your clit lightly

your fingers wrap loosely around his wrist, your brain turning to mush while he touches you, “oh god,” you moan, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip

as your mouth opens, ready to give in, ready to beg until he gives you what you want, spencer surges forward, standing up quickly behind you

you end up bent over his desk once more, this time it’s your chest pressed against his books and files, “fuck,” you sob when he pulls out

he thrusts forwards hard, sending your hips into the edge of the desk, “feel so good around me,” he grunts, pulling hard on your hips, pulling you back onto him

truthfully, your limbs feel like jelly, the desk fully supporting your weight while spencer drags you over his cock, leaving you to just lay there and take it

“oh, ‘m so close,” you gasp, reaching behind you. his fingers tangle with yours again, settling in the dip at the base of your spine, “please, please, pl-”

spencer leans over you, peppering kisses between your shoulder blades, “come for me, angel,” he mumbles against your back

you don’t need anything more to send you over the edge, your thighs shake while an unintelligible stream of words tumble past your lips

“fuck, there you go,” spencer grunts through gritted teeth. your pussy sucks him in, tightening around him like a vice, “oh go-”

between the feeling of your wet, hot cunt and the way you’re pulsing around him, spencer comes with a deep moan, his forehead pressed to your back while his hips stutter against yours

you whimper pathetically as his come floods your cunt, filling you up in a way nothing else ever could, “oh,” you gasp, completely fucked out

spencer huffs, moving to press his lips against your temple, “you did so good for me-,” he mumbles a seemingly endless stream of praise into your ear, “i love you so much,”

“love you too,” you mumble back as you get some feeling back into your limbs. you push up from the desk, still leaning on it as you rut back against spencer slightly, “are you going to finish your work now?” you ask quietly

“no, it can wait until tomorrow now,”

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

a/n please tell me if you see a mistake, i tried to proofread but not sure how well i did it lol

#❥ my works #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid thoughts #spencer reid fic #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #❥ my spencer works #❥ spencer reid #❥ spencer reid fic recs #❥ spencer reid drabbles

1K notes · View notes

hopelesslygaysstuff · 4 months

Text

A bit of a longer daily thought for you all today...

@simpforlizzie you’re welcome bestie!!

“Wake up, my love.”

You smile as Wanda turns her head slightly, lips pouting as she pulls you closer. The barest hint of green peeks up at you as she opens her eyes, squinting in the golden sunlight that streams through your window before quickly closing them again.

“Wanda…” You begin, chuckling softly into her blonde hair as she lets out a small groan of protest, burying herself deeper against you. Her head tucks right into the crook of your neck, like a puzzle piece, and you breathe in deeply. The smell of vanilla hits your nostrils, and you absentmindedly pull her closer, before realizing what you’re doing.

Pressing against her shoulder slightly, you roll your eyes in amusement when she doesn’t move an inch. Your wife could be really stubborn when she wanted to be.

A thought pops into your brain, something you and Wanda had recently talked about, and you nudge her slightly as you whisper into her ear.

“Can I have some fun with you, sweetheart?” She perks up slightly at that, her head turning further as she looks you in the eye with half closed lids. “I’ll just use my tongue, I really want to taste you.”

Wanda smiles brightly, hiding her face and blushing against your collarbone as she nods frantically. You smile, licking your lips slightly as you kiss her forehead before making your way down her body.

Before you can even pull her panties down, you smell Wanda’s arousal. Evidently, she was getting just as worked up as you were, so you wasted no time.

Pulling her bottoms off completely, you spread her legs, fingers gentle as you caressed her thighs. Wanda had started whimpering, rolling her hips slightly as she covered her face with a pillow.

You stuck your tongue out, flattening it against her dripping pussy, and moaning at the taste as you slowly licked a long stripe up towards her clit. Collecting her juices, you made a noise in the back of your throat as you felt her thighs tense up. Her closed them around your head, hips rutting against your face as she blinked blearily up at the ceiling, the pillow falling to the side in her slack grasp.

“Mpphhmnnf,” Was all she could manage, her hands grasping uselessly at the sheet as you wrapped your tongue around her clit and sucked. Your tongue swiped across the hardened nub quickly, invigorated by the increase in sounds your wife was making.

You feel Wanda’s orgasm rising, the telltale signs of her thighs quivering and moans getting higher pitched telling you she was close. Her clit pulses wildly against your tongue, and you moan as more of her arousal leaks into your mouth.

The taste of her is forever ingrained in your mind, burned into your tongue and lips as you savor her. Wanda moans more, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she gasps for breath. You continue, your tongue moving quickly as you grip her thighs to keep her in place.

When your wife cums, it's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. Her back arches, breathy moans escaping her lips as she grips the sheets beneath her tightly. Her hair is splayed around her head like a golden halo, and you swear you’ve seen an angel from heaven.

Wanda calms, and you sit up, your lower face covered in her arousal. A devilish smirk makes its way onto your face as you briefly kiss her on the lips and ignore the tongue that darted out to taste her own arousal. Pulling back, you wink at her, already getting out of bed and moving towards the door.

“You’re finally awake, time to start the day, my love.”

#charsgaythoughts #wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x you #dom!wanda #marvel #mcu #wanda marvel #wlw #wlw smut

409 notes · View notes

harmonicakai · 14 days

Text

Like Real People Do

Pairing: Gyuvin x Reader

Summary: You find yourself falling for the cute boy whose writing assignments you proofread, and discover that your lives have been intertwined for longer than you thought.

Tropes: tutor!reader, basketball player!gyuvin, writers, soulmates, college AU, fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: literally none it’s so cute

A/N: This is a formal apology for my Beomgyu angst <3

“And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?” —Invisible String, Taylor Swift

Gyuvin certainly doesn’t need any help with English, but it gives him a good excuse to spend time in between classes and basketball practice staring at you.

If anything, your talents would be better suited to helping one of his classmates understand all the old poems or crazy novels that they get assigned, but he’s the one who lucked out when your former professor suggested you read her most promising student’s work.

From the first draft, you were hooked, and had somehow started a writer’s circle where just the two of you meet weekly to share your works in progress.

In no time, you’ve helped Gyuvin become one of the top students in Writing 101, and he’s worried you’ll notice that he’d be just fine if you stopped helping him. Still, the A’s keep rolling in and you keep meeting up with him anyway.

When Gyuvin’s latest short story gets nominated for a departmental prize, you’re over the moon for him.

“You are so amazing,” you smile up at him. “We should celebrate! That’s a really big deal. I was nominated last year, but didn’t come close to winning.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he points out, looking down at the ground and rubbing the back of his neck. “Really, Y/N. If I win, it would be just as much your prize as it would be mine.”

“Don’t be silly,” you say, packing up the rest of your lunch. You usually only see him in the library at your designated meeting time, but today, he sought you out in the courtyard to make sure you were the first person he told. “I’m just the editor. All of the ideas came from you. Plus, I’m only good at English because I grew up speaking it. It’s much more impressive for you to have learned it recently and write at the level that you do.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Y/N,” he replies, helping you up off your picnic blanket. Before you can do it yourself, he’s already reaching down to fold it, his long arms handling the fabric with ease. “You’d write circles around me any day.”

“I don’t want to get into another compliment war,” you giggle, swinging your backpack over your shoulder. Recently, it’s been filled with way too many books, and your classes are so jam-packed that you never have time to run back to your room in between them.

“Here, Y/N, let me,” he says, taking your backpack from you. He’s already got his own on, but he wears yours over his front, barely even flinching at the extra weight. “Where are you headed next? I’m done with my classes for the day, so I can walk you.”

He’s always been desperate to ask you to hang out outside of your brainstorming sessions, but every time he thinks he’s worked up the courage, you’ll laugh or smile or even just glance at him and his brain short circuits.

“I have a music class across campus in thirty minutes,” you reply. “Don’t you live the other way, though? You really don’t have to walk me. It’s pretty far.”

“I want to,” Gyuvin reassures you. He offers his hand. “Here. I walk pretty fast, so let’s make sure I don’t leave you behind.”

You hesitate for a moment before taking it. You’ve had a crush on Gyuvin ever since the two of you first crossed paths—he’s the literal embodiment of sunshine trapped inside a cute boy—but things have only ever been friendly between the two of you.

His hand is big, wrapping itself around yours almost entirely. The walk is silent, although you swear you can hear your heart about to beat out of your chest as you pull him along your usual route. Gyuvin makes sure to always let you lead.

“You know,” you start, still not looking back at him. “We’re kind of like Orpheus and Eurydice right now.”

Gyuvin lights up at the reference, with mythology being one of the first things you two really bonded over. “If you looked back at me, the only thing I’d probably die of is how cute you are, Y/N.”

You’re glad you’re turned away so he can’t see the bright blush that’s spread across your cheeks. His words get you so flustered that you don’t even notice you’ve stopped walking.

“Did I say something wrong?” Gyuvin asks, his voice laced with concern. He moves to face you, your height difference causing him to crane his neck down. Meanwhile, your gaze is locked on your shoes.

“Gyuvin,” you say, still refusing to meet his eye. You pull him over to a nearby bench. “Remember when I said I liked the love story you wrote the other day?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he confirms. “You complimented me on how realistic it was and I told you it was only because I based it off of real life.”

“Was it…” your words catch in your throat, unable to face the embarrassment of if you’re wrong. “Was it about us?”

“Yes,” he admits almost immediately. You finally turn to face him, greeted by a nervous look. “Listen, Y/N. I only wrote it because I knew you’d read it, and I thought maybe if you saw how good characters that were a lot like us could be together, you’d give me a chance in real life. But you didn’t really notice, or maybe you just wanted to ignore it, so I kind of abandoned all hope of us ever being together.”

You blink back at him. How could you be so oblivious? Your entire major was based on analyzing words, and you couldn’t even see that he wanted to be with you so badly that he had to write it into existence.

Words always come easy to you, except at this very moment.

“You abandoned all hope?” is all you can manage to get out. You try to pull your hand away, but he only grips it tighter.

“I tried,” Gyuvin says, his voice soft. “But you’re all I ever think about. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever be capable of writing someone who even comes close to how wonderful I think you are, Y/N. There just aren’t words to describe all the ways in which you’re special to me.”

You laugh, his words making tears well up in your eyes. “You know, I used to go to basketball games a lot before we even met, just so I wouldn’t have to feel so lonely all the time. And I remember liking your smile and the way you always encouraged your teammates. I would go home and wish I had someone like you in my life.”

“You’re kidding,” he says, taking out his wallet. You knit your brows in confusion, watching as he pulls out a small piece of paper and unfolds it. “Here.”

He hands it to you and your eyes widen at the words printed out. It’s the poem that you had published in the school’s literary magazine last spring about wanting to romanticize your life. Talking about your feelings makes you anxious, but nobody reads those publications. Except for Gyuvin, apparently.

“I liked you before we even met, too,” Gyuvin confesses. “Your poem is actually the reason I got into writing in the first place. I used to read it before all of my games, but I know all the words by heart now, so I just keep it in my wallet for good luck.”

This all feels too good to be true, but his touch keeps you grounded in reality.

“Maybe I should start coming to basketball games again, then,” you think out loud. “I stopped going because I felt awkward not knowing anybody.”

“Well, now you’d know me, and I’ll make sure the whole team gets to know you, too, okay?” The way he smiles at you, his eyes so full of light, takes your breath away.

“Really?” you ask, looking at him in disbelief. The thought of meeting so many new people at the same time scares you, but if Gyuvin likes them, you’re sure you will too.

“On one condition,” he says, closing the gap between the two of you. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his hand settling on your cheek. “I get to introduce you as my girlfriend.”

“Deal,” you grin, inching closer until your lips are pressed against his. You’re nervous that he’ll somehow figure out that you’ve only ever read about kissing in books, but the way he melts into you tells you that he doesn’t mind.

“You’re going to be late for class,” Gyuvin reminds you, pulling away. He desperately wants to keep going, but not at the expense of your grades.

“Class can wait,” you say, leaning in for another kiss. Your fingers lace themselves through his soft, messy hair. “I said we’d celebrate your nomination, so let’s celebrate.”

221 notes · View notes