#red's definitely his signature look | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelfrombeneth · 4 months

Text

MAGICAL DRYING DISASTER - T . NOTT

Mature Content Ahead

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: After waking up late and discovering you left your washing in the machine over night. You had no other choice to use magic to dry it - except it did dry but also shrunk, massively, in the process. Once Theo finds you let's just say he manages to keep it kept in till the common room. Then it's all fair game from there.

Warnings: SMUT, No Protection - PIV, Theodore is a munch - Fem Oral, Body Worship, Smidge of SubWhiney!Theo, Cursing

A/N: This is my first one-shot fic I've posted in a long time but also my first one EVER on tumblr. I used to write on wattpad and ao3 but took a very long hiatus. So excuse if my smut writing is a bit off or any spelling mistakes I currently have acrylics on - its quite hard to type.

Click Clack.. Click Clack...

You ran towards your class quickly, pulling town the absolute belt of a skirt you wore today before entering into your potions class. Late.

"Miss Neveah.. Thank you for finally joining us" Snape panned. His face expressionless as he stared at you. A slight hint of disapproval in his face.

"I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again!" You scurried to your seat beside Pansy.

"It most definitely will not" He groaned before turning back to the chalk board to continue his explanation.

You shimmied on your seat, pulling as much skirt down as you could. Practically flashing those behind you of your bright red thong and gorgeously placed star tramp stamp.

Nice touch is what you thought when you got it a few months ago after a night out in the muggle clubs with Pansy. She persuaded you and said Theo would love it. Or which he did.

"Y/N.. your skirt is practically a belt. Trying to flash us all?" She whispered, giggling as he peered down as your legs, absent of any tights aswell.

"Girl.. It shrunk when I tried to use magic to dry it. All my other skirts are dirty" You pouted. "I also couldn't find a pair of fucking tights, I was running so late"

"Its not that bad, just don't bend over if you can" She smiled as she reached to your ponytail tieing in a little green piece of ribbon into a bow. "And don't let Mr Lover boy see you" She snickered.

You sighed, focusing in the rest of your class. Praying not many people noticed. You were pretty daft thinking that. You were already the hot goss. It was only so long till Theo found out.

Though alot of boys in Hogwarts fancied you, they all knew about Theodore Nott swooping in, in 4th year the year before you 'blossomed' as they said. They say he saw the potential and snatched it up while they could.

You walked down the hall, pulling your books to your chest as your red bottoms clipped the wooden floor that spanned the whole school. Many turned your way gawking as you, mostly more than normal due to tour skirt size today.

You weren't a bad girl. You has good grades, you were overly nice to everyone just the people you hung round with were opposite. Many saying you were too nice.

After a quick detour to pick up an extra book from the library you shuffled down the corridor, your heels clicking their signature click against the oak as you walked towards your friends who stood beside your regular post class meeting pillar.

"Sorry I'm late!" You skipped towards them hurriedly. You watched as Theo whipped his head around, his jaw practically dislodging from his face as he stared at you.

Mattheo wolf whistled as he looked you up and down. Smirking as he pushed himself off the wall - "Damn Y/N, I didn't know you had this hiding somewhere"

"Neither did I" Theo's gaze burned through you as he bent his neck to get look at you from behind. Definitely a sight for sore eyes.

"I'm sorry- I fucked up a spell and I was running late I didn't mean to- OUCH! THEO!" you got cut off as he slapped his hand harshly against your ass before gripping a handful as he smirked down at you. The boys laughing at the pair of you.

"As much as I am thoroughly enjoying the sight Bella" He looked down at you, his gaze growing darker by each word that fell from his lips. He leaned in, practically growling in your ear."I don't like to share amore mio"

You gulped at his words as he pulled his jumper off, wrapping it around your waist. Slightly tugging on the fabric jerking you forward into his chest as he smiled down at you before kissing your forehead softly.

"As cute as you two are, everyone's looking. Can we clear out" Pansy groaned.

You snapped back into reality, quietly ushering an apology to the group as Pansy pulled your hand as you both walked hand in hand ahead of the boys.

You heard a smack and an 'ow' turning around quickly as you turned the corner seeing Theo slapping Mattheo across the head. "Flirt with someone else" He groaned. You giggled slightly at his protectiveness.

Once you arrived to the common room everyone scattered to do their own thing. Theo once more approaching you.

"Now..." a cheeky smile appeared on his lips as his hands held your hips softly as he peered down at you. The height difference really getting to you. "I can't stop thinking about that little skirt on you.." His hands slowly moving down and around to the curve of your ass as he nibbled at his lip. "..and how much I want to fuck you in it" He whispered the last part lowly as his tongue poked out and slid across his bottom lip as he squeezed your ass through his jumper.

"Then do it" You caught his gaze, already out of breath from his minimal touch.

It's like that's all he needed to hear. Like without warning and no regards for the fact your friends were just a few steps away bundled in the corner on the coaches - he pulled you tightly, hand on your ass against him as his lips crushed into yours. Needy kisses as if he hasn't kissed you in months.

The sudden rip of his jumper loosening the knot as it dropped to the floor. His hands sliding under the little fabric the skirt had as his nails gripped into the flesh on your ass cheeks. You yelped slightly and he took that as permission to shove his whole tongue down your throat. The kisses grew messier and messier as you both backed up towards the stairs, bumping into everything possible as you both chuckled.

Breaking the kiss as you both removed various pieces of clothing as you scrambled up the stairs. By the time you got to yours and Pansys' room you both had disregarded of practically everything. Theo quickly finishing unzipping his trousers before pushing you into the room, kicking the leg off quickly, flinging his trousers into the centre of the hallway as he shut the door behind him.

You stood infront of him in just your skirt, bra and panties as he ruffled his hair, staring at you like a kid in a candy shop, pondering what you try next.

"DONT WORRY WE'LL CLEAN UP AFTER YOU TWO!" Draco yelled, annoyance plastered in his voice.

That broke Theo out of the trance he was in as he lunged at you, unclipping your bra swiftly as he threw it across the room before pushing you against the bed.

"Fuck, I'm so hard. I can't- I just need to fuck you now" He groaned, biting at his lip anxiously as he stared down at you. "Get on all fours". You obliged and quickly.

You felt the sudden cold breeze against your clit as he tightly yanked on your thong, splitting it apart at he threw it on the floor aswell as he kicked off his boxers.

"Fuck your so hot" He groaned, dropping to his knees as he gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks wide as he licked a nice wet strip up your pussy.

A moan lodged itself in your neck as you bundled up the sheets in your hands as he let out a shaky breath.

"Wanna eat you out so bad, but my cock is throbbing.. Need to treat you well tho" He whined as he spat into his hand as he began to fuck it. His free hand gripping your ass as he dove his tounge deep into you.

You hung your head forward as you let out an exasperated sigh as your toes curled. Theo's tongue worked wonders inside of you. He ate you out like it was dire need. The roughness of his mouth sopping against your pussy as his tongue drilled into your hole. The wetness of both his mouth and your pussy mixing as he moaned against you as he continued to fuck the shit out of his hand. Loud moans rumbled against you as he sucked and twirled like no tomorrow.

You were drawing to your high as you noticed he stopped, pulling away for a moment as he let out a deep growl before a light whimper escaped his lips as he came up the bottom of your bed frame and on the floor. He panted for a moment, light whimpers leaving gis mouth as he toyed with his sensitive dick.

"Fuck- Sorry Principessa. I came, naughty of me to do so before I helped you. I'll make sure you feel extra good" His other hand colliding with your ass again as he dove back in. His nose rubbing harshly against your slit as he flicked his tongue continously against your clit. Sucking and nibbling at it from time to time as he continued to grip and massage at your ass.

The sudden overwhelming feeling drove you over the age as you screeched, yelping as you squirted all over his face. You gasped loudly, crashing to the bed as your legs shook slightly as you panted.

"Mhmm.. Love it when you squirt" You looked at Theo as he wiped the cum from his face, sucking his fingers like a dessert he's got to finish.

"You're so gorgeous, so fucking beautiful.. Beautiful body" He groaned as he slid his hands up your curves, moaning softly as the scene infront of him. "S'lucky.. So fucking lucky.."

He tapped your thigh, as you led on your stomach on the bed, your legs hanging off the end slightly as your tippy toes held against the floor.

"Gunna make you feel so good, amore" he cooed as he lied up his tip with your slit before thrashing it in harshly. You yelped once again at you looked back at him.

"Going to teach you not. to wear. a slut. short. skirt. again. fuck!" He growled with each thrust as your body jerked against his movements. Your body slid up and down the bed as your feet struggled to stay on the floor much longer as he pushed you up the bed.

It wasn't before long till Theo climbed ontop of you, straddling you as he drilled into you. Loud whimpers left you as you clawed at the sheets as you screamed into his duvet.

"FUCK!! ARGH- TEDDY!" you pleaded as your back arched, shoving your ass harder into him as his hands gripped your hips tightly, his nails scatting cresent moons to your flesh as your bodies recoiled against one another.

"Yes! Like that.. fuckkk Teddy more.. please!" You babbled. He reached over grabbing your neck as he pulled your body up against his chest. Your legs trapped between his as he squeezed them shut. His arm tightly against your stomach as he continued to drill up into your pussy. You gasped and whined continously as he groaned and growled into your ear. His grip growing tighter around your neck as he flexed his biceps, his tongue sliding up your jawline to your ear.

"Teddy- I'm gunna cum! Please please please PLEASE! Cum with me!" you whined as your eyes rolled back. The growing feeling in your stomach as his cock continued to thrash into you. You were drunk on the feeling of him buried into you. You tightly shut your thighs together for any ounce more of pressure you could grasp.

"Good girl- M'close" He panted.

Your eyes began to roll back as you gasped for air at the tightening of his arm around your neck. The bursting feeling in your stomach as your whole body recoiled and shook as you screamed like bloody murder with all the air you has left in your lungs as you came.

At that moment Theo threw you down, as your body twitched conthously. He gripped your ass as he thrusted deep before cumming in you. Groaning deeply as he threw his head back. Sweat trickling down his forehead and chest as he panted heavily.

Neither of you moved for a moment to compose yourself. You occasionally twitched at your body recoiled against his dick.

"Fuck me.. So good" Theo pulled out, sighing as he watched cum pool at your slit and began to slide down. You felt his tip against you again as he collected the escaping cum and slightly fucked it back into you. His dick entering you once more as you gasped at the feeling.

"Good girl.. such a good girl.." His light thrusts as he peppered you with kisses all over your back and shoulders.

He gasped slightly as he froze above you. You were about to question him till you felt a slightly release.

"Did you just cum again Teddy?" You giggled as he thrusted once more before pulling out and collapsing next to you.

"Its hard to last with you. You make me so addicted" He smirked, his head turned to look at you. He rested his hand on your ass, squeezing it lightly from time to time.

"I'm glad this skirt shrunk" He chuckled, his smile wide.

You shook your head as you laughed at him. "You're a fool" You shimmied towards him, flicking your leg over his chest as you cuddled into him. His body warm.

He kissed your shoulder softly before softly kissing your cheek, nibbling at your ear before whispering;

"Ti amo amore mio".

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theo nott x reader #slytherin #slytherin boys #harrypotter fanfiction #slytherin fanfiction #lorenzo zurzolo #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #angelfrombenethfics

2K notes · View notes

l0ngschl0ngking · 1 year

Text

Not his type

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: you are helping at Chucho’s ranch and Javier thinks you are still definitely not his type

warnings: as usually SMUT ( vaginal fingering, oral -m!receiving, male masturbation, protected p in v, biting, hair pulling), cursing, soft!Javi - cuz that’s my favorite genre of Javi -, just a smudge of angst, mentions of bullying, mentions of food, fluff

word count: 10.5 k (I like them big I guess *wink wink*)

A/N: I planned to start my Marcus Pike fic but then this idea popped into my head and I just had to write it. This is basically just a long friends to lovers fic.

Javier Peña is not a simple man – far from it. He is bitter and hot-headed, and he feels small no matter what he does – he should have done better, he should have been smarter, quicker. He shouldn't have been such an idiot. Maybe then he wouldn’t be now standing in front of his childhood home. Maybe then...

But no matter what Javier thinks of himself he is a good man. He is caring and always wants to do the right thing – even if the consequences of his actions make him look like a bad guy. He doesn’t care – or he does but doesn’t let it show. Doesn’t want people to know that perhaps he is not as strong as he seems. Doesn’t want them to know that he cares – sometimes too deeply. Doesn’t want them to know he might feel – it's better if he seems unapproachable and looks like if you'd touch him, he'd burn you too greatly - so much that you would want to do nothing with him ever again.

So Javier feels the weight of all of his sins drop into his stomach when he keeps standing on the porch of Chucho’s house with a suitcase that he had packed with himself from Bogotá. He wanted to leave all of his old life behind but some memories stay with things that are bound to them.

He feels like a little boy again when he came home crying because lads – older and bigger than him – were picking on him. He feels like the little boy who hid behind the skirts of his dear mama when guests came to visit. That’s why he wants to look so tough, that’s why he is so hard around the edges – he changed, Bogotá changed him so he wouldn’t have to feel that small ever again. But even that didn’t help. Deep inside he is still that little boy. He can hide behind his bravado - his stern scowl and cold gaze- but that fact will never change.

He doesn’t know how long he has been standing there until the door swings open – almost hitting him in the face – and he sees Chucho standing in the doorway. His signature cowboy hat on his head and that old red flannel shirt he bought him on Christmas ages ago seems a little tighter around his middle than he'd last seen him in it. He is older – slower, the age showing on his face. But when he smiles as he sees Javier in front of him he looks 30 years younger.

Javier looks a lot like his pops – he has the same nose that he hated when he was younger – and pops had the same colored dark hair once that curls if it gets too long. They have the same dimple on the left side of their face if they smile too hard and like his pops, Javier could never really grow a proper beard.

Pops hugs him as if he hadn't seen him in ages – and to be honest, that is true. Work and life always got in the way and he regrets all the time he missed with him. He also didn’t want to come home – his mother’s things were still everywhere in the house. Her pictures, the warms blankets - that Javier loved to wrap around himself on the colder nights in Laredo - scattered on the armchairs and couch. He didn’t want to see Pops sad and so he stayed behind in Bogotá drowning in work, booze and women. The Peña men had different ways of grieving. Chucho never said anything to Javi though – he didn’t blame him for not coming, didn’t yell at him for letting him be alone on holidays – and he should have. He should do all those things because maybe then Javier wouldn’t feel like such a bad son.

When they part Chucho smiles – he didn’t smile a whole lot after Javi's mom died. “It's good to see you, Javier.” He pats him on the back – a little clumsily, Javier notices but he puts a tight smile on his face. He missed a whole lot.

“You too, pops. How have you been?” It’s a question he knows the answer to. He always answers the same – busy. After the death of his wife Pops seemed to spend most of his day outside working on a ranch. Barely coming home to eat or drink. Wanted to occupy his mind. “Seems like you started actually eating as I said.” Pops waves his hand back at him.

“You calling me fat, mijo?” Javier opens his mouth to answer but Pops beat him to it, his belly shaking a little with laughter. “Someone has been helping me out for a while now. Cooking and cleaning the house once in a while.” Javier quirks an eyebrow at this and he pushes the small suitcase as he enters – now his home, too. It didn’t change here in the slightest. Pops throws him a look above his shoulder as he looks him up and down quickly. “Seems like you have been skipping out on meals, my boy. Come, Bee is here and the lunch should be already done. She made Pozole de Pollo o Guajolote. Your mother's recipe.” Javi stands straighter at the nickname. Surely he didn’t mean...

The delicious smell coming from the kitchen makes his stomach rumble and he doesn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He abandons the suitcase in the hallway after he takes off his boots and jacket that he puts on the old wooden hanger for coats he made with Pops when he was around 12 –its asymmetrical and weird-looking seeming like it was made by a child – which it was but it’s a memory Javier is very fond of.

The floors creak under Javier's quick footsteps and he stops in the doorway as he watches you fuss around his dad. His entire body softens, the crease in his forehead disappearing as he sees you in the Peña kitchen. The past coming into the present. Prepping the silverware on the table that lays in the middle of the smaller kitchen. He sees that Pops kept everything in place like it was even before the death of Javi's mother. He missed this place. Even though bittersweet memories crawl out on the surface of his mind and his heart aches like it hadn’t in a really long time.

“Seems like you are a busy bee, Bee.” Javier smirks when you look up at him. You didn’t really change after the last time he had seen you. Sure, you aged – as has he – but you still kept your spark from all those years ago. You smile fondly – and a little unsure – at him as you quickly wipe your hands on the apron wrapped around your middle. And Javier notices - of course, he does. The hesitation in your step when you walk to him. The little twitch of your lips you make when you are nervous.

He is an observant man. He watches and analyzes. And he is good at it too - you squirm under his intense gaze. As if he could see every little part of your soul, even the deepest secrets you kept hidden somewhere back down inside of you. That’s why he is such a good agent. Was, at least. His dark eyes shift to your cleavage just for a second. You don’t notice - his eyes quickly scanning you up and down.

He looks good. Even better than the last time you saw him. The mustache he grew suits him. His hair is longer than he had when he went to high school with you. He is broader and seems even taller. He is a man now, not the little boy you played hide and seek with. He still wears the same smirk on his lips though - that kind of smirk that meant trouble when you two were younger. His jeans hug him in just all the right places and the black shirt he is wearing makes him somehow look even hotter. All man.

“You know me. Never could keep still.”

And he does. He does know you. Or at least he did - when you two were just young kids, then stupid teenagers and suddenly - strangers too. You grew up at the Peña dinner table as much as your own. Your mothers were great friends, your fathers old buddies. You had a farm right next to them which you eventually sold when your folks passed away and it was just too much work for only you alone. You bought a small house with the money you received.

Javier still remembers when he first saw you – all toothy grin and two braids sitting on top of your head. You wore that stupid flowy dress in an ugly mustard color. You were more of the outgoing type and Javier – to everyone's surprise – was more of the lonely kid. He was smaller than his peers – smaller than you even, when you first met him. And he doesn’t remember why you started talking to him and wanted to become his friend but he didn’t complain at that time. You visited him almost every single day – looking for mischief all around. Broken glasses and bones were nothing new to both of you. The two of you were inseparable – until high school. Javier – for once in his life, thanks to you - didn’t feel so small anymore. He grew up to be a handsome and smart, confident and funny, pretty charming and self-assured young man. Girls started noticing him and he loved the attention – when their heads turned around to look. They thought he never noticed. But alas, Javier was an observant boy even back then and he noticed – his cockiness getting on your nerves sometimes. He never wanted to feel small again.

And like almost every girl – you developed a huge crush on him. But it wasn’t because he was tall and cocky, no. It was simply because you knew the real Javier – your Javi. Who hated being alone and who hated going to the church every Sunday – hiding in the dusty, covered in spider webs attic. He never noticed you – like he noticed the other girls. He never gave you that loop-sided grin or the puppy heart-filled eyes. You were just great friends - even when you wished for more. And one day you weren't even that.

You should have seen it coming, really. With Javier becoming popular, he started hanging out with you less and less. When you came to Peña's household he was already out with his new friends. And you always came running to him like a pathetic little puppy who comes to his owner no matter how many times they kick him. His friends laughed at you. And later on, he started laughing with them. He got a girlfriend – Lorraine, the sweet and perfect Lorraine – before you two stopped talking. The old memory still stings when you think about it.

It happened on one of those super warm summer nights in Laredo. You wore one of your favorite dresses. It hugged your curves and you thought you look absolutely beautiful in it – your mother said so too. You asked Javi if you could meet up at your spot – the old scrap yard just a couple minutes' walk from both of your houses. When you arrived there your stomach dropped to your feet – his friends sitting with him on your favorite car that was reserved for only you and Javi. Laughing and drinking booze, the atmosphere lose. But you didn’t feel lose – your muscles taunt and all you wanted to do was just turn on your heels and leave. Cry about this stupid little crush you had on this stupid Texas boy. But Javier spotted you before you could do so – somehow he could always spotted you even in the biggest of crowds.

“Bee! Come and join us!” He yelled, one of his hands shooting into the air as he held an unopened can of beer. And with his other hand...he was holding Lorraine. They were close to each other – her almost sitting on his lap as she placed kisses on the column of his throat. You swallowed the ball of anxiety that was building in your throat as you heard them whisper: “Why did you call her, man?” He didn’t answer as he smiled at you. Lorraine's eyes squinting at you in annoyance.

Clearing your throat you asked: “Javi, can we talk?” He just shrugged his shoulders as he hopped off from the roof of the car mumbling a quick “sure”. He wasn’t wearing a t-shirt – you noticed just then. The sun was slowly setting and his golden skin shined. The butterflies in your belly made you want to go home and squeal into your pillow. You gulped and a few of his friends whistled – noticing the once-over you gave him.

“Someone has an admirer here, Peña. Too bad she is so fat and ugly! Like a pig – oink oink!” All of them bursted into laughter and to your surprise – so did Javier. He laughed straight into your face and you fought the tears in your eyes to not spill as you finally turned on your heel – as you should have done much sooner – and left. You didn’t see the remorseful look in his eyes and the way his muscle twitched, his mind screaming at him to go after you. He never wanted to feel small ever again and his friends said you were a loser – people like him shouldn’t talk to people like you. He didn´t want to be loser again.

Lorraine pulls him by the shoulder back to her – her tongue plunging into his mouth and when they pull apart she grins, the long nails of hers scraping across his golden-tanned chest.

“Forget about her, Javi. You don’t need her.” He nodded – unsure – but he didn’t have time to think about it too much as her tongue fought with his once more – the heavy taste of beer on her tongue filling all of his senses.

After that, you stop talking to Javier. You still came to his house - with your mama - but you didn’t greet him anymore and he was pretty sure you told your and his mother as well, as they always threw him a dirty look whenever he was in the same room as you. You didn’t look at him and you didn’t acknowledge his presence anymore. He hated that he felt so small again even though he didn’t have a reason to. He had friends and a girlfriend, and all the girls threw themselves at him. So why does his stomach pull tight anytime he is near you, why does he feel like he lost peace of himself?

One day he decides he has had enough. Both of your mothers went outside to catch the last rays of the sun and you are alone in the kitchen – baking your famous apple pie. He sneaks behind you and cages you in. You feel his breath on your neck, the slow raise and fall of his chest. You turn around – your noses almost touching – and he sees the hot fury in your eyes. You are covered in flour and Javier thinks – just for a split second - he had never seen you look so fucking beautiful. His gaze lingers on your mouth maybe a little too long because he sees you are talking – your mouth opening and closing.

“What do you want, Javier?” You ask and he had never heard you so annoyed, so drained. You didn’t look like yourself anymore and didn’t sound like it too.

“Us to start talking again, Bee.” Because Javier is selfish and he takes and takes. Sometimes forgetting to give something back in return. He widens his eyes when he feels the sting on one of his cheeks – his head moving to one side with the force of it. You slapped him. He looks at you – you are all wide eyes and snarling teeth.

“Fuck you, Peña.” You quickly try to scramble away from him because you feel like crying again. No because of sadness – no. That sadness turned into raw fury after the incident at the scrap yard. Because of how idiotic and stupid he is. And because – no matter what he had done and told you – you can’t seem to shake off the crush you have on him. He grits his teeth and his hand grabs your wrist. Both of your breathing erratic.

“It's not my fault you are not my type, Bee.” He didn’t mean to say that - the words coming from his mouth sound foreign to him. Not right. But his hot temper gets the best of him and the way he said and what he said should not hurt that much. But it does. It feels like he had just stabbed you in the heart and then twisted the knife – deeper and deeper.

You yank away from his grip and you point a finger at him – your hand shaking with the hurt, anger, sadness, Everything coming at you in waves - it feels so fucking overwhelming. You want to scream at him, kick him, hurt him as much as he had hurt you. But what good would it do? None.

You exhale shakily and Javier waits for the fight but it doesn’t come. You shrink into yourself and turn to leave. You look at him above your shoulder as you whisper. “I hate you so fucking much, Javier Peña.” And you are gone.

The heavy weight of your words lingers in the air and he feels the hot tears running down the apple of his cheeks. He quickly wipes them away. His ears are ringing and he doesn’t hear your mother yelling at you about what happened. He doesn’t smell your apple pie burning in the oven. He fucked up. Because he will never get to talk to you again or feel your touch. He will never hear you laugh and he will never get to comfort you again when you cry. Because the only source of your sorrow is him – the stupid Texas boy you now despised.

Javier comes to present and you give him a quick side hug telling him to sit down. Chucho watches both of you and he prays that you are both wise enough now to sort out this little grudge you have. But you are also both too stubborn and the dinner passes in silence. The only sound is the clinking of silverware cutting through the thick air and sometimes Chucho quips in to ask Javier about Colombia - Javier doesn’t want to talk about that, though. So he stays quiet as he chews - the food tastes exactly like his mother’s.

When Javier sneaks a quick look at you he thinks that maybe he wasn’t such an idiot. The bitterness from your last talk makes his face twist. He hates how - even after all these years - you seem to not acknowledge him even though you try to stay as polite towards him as possible. As if you just look through him and not at him. He watches as you pass his pops a salt and you grin at something he says.

And yeah, you are still definitely not his type.

Javier sees you almost every day. It drives him fucking crazy. The way you just nod at him when he passes by or is in the same room as you – which is mostly kitchen -, the way you don’t answer his questions about you. How have you been, what did you do after high school? He only knows your folks passed away shortly after he left for Colombia – Chucho told him over the phone. Your parents felt like second ones to him. He wanted to call you after Chucho told him, he really did. But he didn’t know your number – that was just an excuse, he knows that and he also knows Chucho would have given it to him if he asked. He feared that you would hang up on him, that if he heard your broken voice he would book the closest flight to come to you. After all – you were best friends a long time ago.

Javier wants to know everything about you – but you give him nothing. You are just a big complicated riddle to him and he has no hints to figure you out. He notices you though and the things you still do. You still enjoy watching sunsets as you did when you were younger. And that you talk to plants when you water them or that you still secretly go and feed horses a few sugar cubes even though you really shouldn’t. That you still hum when you cook and squint your eyes on either him or Chucho when they enter the kitchen because you don’t like when somebody disturbs you while you are in you’re your element. You always liked to bake and cook – often sneaking into the kitchen with him late at night because he wanted cookies and you gave in and baked them. Because he asked you to and said please – Javier never said please often and that habit he kept.

So because you don’t seem happy when he wants to talk to you or occupies the same room – you actually don’t seem happy with his presence in general and that makes his heart tighten even if he doesn’t understand why – he spends most of his day tending to the ranch. Feeding the animals and fixing the old barn. Today he started fixing the old fence that didn’t even look like a fence at all anymore. He grunts as he stands up – he is getting old and his back is fucking killing him. The Texas sun makes him sweat, he smells and he feels thirsty – has felt thirsty for a while now. But he knows it's afternoon and you are probably in the house cooking. He contemplates it – he doesn’t want to see you uncomfortable around his sheer presence but fuck. He feels like he could drink a whole gallon of water. Fuck it, he thinks as his steps lead him to the Pena house. You knew he was coming back home – if you didn’t want to stick with him, you wouldn’t.

When he is finally inside and the sun doesn’t burn his face, he takes off his yellow aviators and the thick working gloves. He is covered in sweat and dirt and as he enters the kitchen you think he never looked better. But he always does in your eyes and you hate yourself for it. You gulp and turn your back to him as you try to quickly scribble the things you need to get at the farmers market today. Your body stiffens when he walks behind you – his shirt brushes against your shoulders - and grabs one of those old funny-looking glasses you painted together when you were probably around 9. The air thickens and the atmosphere is awkward – you both want to say something but nothing comes out of your mouths. Finally, Chucho enters and he looks at Javi and then back at you.

“Go shower, mijo. You are going with Bee today.” It's an order and Javi doesn’t want to argue. His house, his rules. Quite the opposite – maybe the change of setting will finally let you loosen up and you will talk to him. He wants to say to you so much. He looks at you and you gape at Chucho as he throws you a pointed look. You swiftly shut your mouth – Javier taking the steps by two as he wants to scrub himself squeaky clean as soon as possible. He feels positively giddy – it reminds him of the times when he got his first car and drove around Laredo with you.

When he comes down the hushed conversation between you and Chucho comes to a halt and he looks between you two before Chucho almost pushes you out of the house. You drag your feet behind you and the giddiness he felt leaves him as he sees your “enthusiasm”. He wants to go and hide in the nearest hole, lick the wounds he pretends he doesn’t have but you are already sitting in the passenger seat by the time he gets his head out of the gutter.

The ride is awkward, filled with silence and you squirm every once in a while in your seat. You glance at Javier's profile a few times – his strong jawline and his aquiline nose. You stare at his hands and how come they are so big? The veins are prominent on the back of them - leading to the thick fingers, nails trimmed neatly. His hair is longer now after a few weeks already spend at home. He looks better than when he arrived. Now he didn’t look as...tired. And as skinny – he always devours the meals you cook and you can see him filling up around the middle. His arms were much stronger and more muscular than before because of all the work he did on the ranch. Domesticity looks good on him. You watch as he grips the wheel and see his jaw tick before he sighs.

“I am sorry, Bee.” You raise your brows at him when he glances to see your reaction to his words. He never was good with them “actions speak louder than words” he always said. “I am sorry for what I said and how I treated you during high school. I was a fucking idiot and if I could take it all back-”

“You were.” It's a simple phrase, your words coming out fast and he grips the steering wheel tighter when your hand lands on his thigh. “But that’s all I ever wanted to hear, Javier. Yes, your words and actions hurt me in the past. And they still hurt me now when I think about them. But there's nothing we can do about it now. We were kids and if it didn’t happen I don’t think I would become the person I am now so I accept your apology even if it could have been a better one. You should really work on your people skills.” You shrug your shoulders as you tease him and the hand that was resting on his thigh moves into your lap once again. He wants to tell you you could have kept it there – it felt too fucking good even if it was such a simple and innocent touch. It grounded him and Javier is touch deprived.

“So, that’s it?” He asks, his tongue poking out to lick his lower lip as he raises his eyebrows while he watches the road.

“Yes, that’s it.”

The conversation flows smoothly after that and Javier can't believe it was that easy. If he apologized much sooner he could have been talking to you for weeks now. He missed this – your talks. You talked with your hands a lot and he enjoys how expressive you are when you are telling something. He learns a lot about you. You own a little bakery here - that’s why you are so flexible and can come almost anytime to the ranch. He feels proud of you – your dream was always to open a small bakery somewhere. At least one of us could make their dream come true.

You laugh and talk, and tell stupid jokes or occurrences that happened in your life. He missed a whole lot and so have you. Your favorite story of his is when he told about the time his neighbor – an old lady – saw him butt naked because the woman he slept with locked him out of his own apartment after he told her he wanted nothing serious. His neighbor called him over to have some fun which he politely declined. You double over laughing and Javi grins, his cheeks hurting. He missed your laugh – he didn’t feel this comfortable ever since...well ever since you stopped talking.

The ride passes quickly and when you step out of the car you come around – grabbing Javis's hand as you mumble something about “want to show you around here, Javi, so much changed after you left” as you throw him a quick grin. He can only concentrate on your nimble fingers between his and how it feels so fucking right before you are dragging him behind you.

You are not his type he has to remind himself as he squeezes your hand tightly.

Javier comes into the house all muddy once again. It has been raining in Laredo for the past few days - the land all soaked soil and dirt. He takes of his boots before he enters. His nose drags him into the kitchen as he catches the smell of pie. Sweet and delicious - or was it just you, standing here all soft and pretty? He can't tell anymore. These past few weeks were filled with nothing but joy – almost. You played cards with him and Chucho late at night, drinking beer and listening to Chucho's stories. Sometimes you went riding with him on the ranch. Your love for horses didn’t die out and you always were natural with them. You have your favorite one too – the small chestnut-colored mare with a fiery temperament that seems to tolerate only you. Chuho wanted to sell her a long time ago but you begged him on your knees – literally – not to. His eyes softened and he agreed reluctantly – he could never say no to you. Something both Peña men had in common.

Anytime Javier looks at you he feels his stomach tighten with something – sometimes arousal but he blames that on the lack of sex, sometimes on something entirely else. He tries to push it deep inside him but whenever he catches your smell his head gets all dizzy and he has the need to find you and talk to you, be near you He hates it. He hates it so fucking much. He doesn’t know what you did to him. He can't seem to shake you out of his mind. He thinks of you anytime he sees the sun setting down or the last time he picked violets for you as he saw them growing a few miles away from the ranch. Because you love violets. He gave them to you with a darker shade of red covering his ears as he scratched his neck. You thanked him and kissed him on the cheek then – his heart hammering in his chest, his pulse quickening and his lower half seemed all too interested in the skin-to-skin contact. As your lips lingered on his cheek as he thought about against what other parts of him would they feel so soft.

Javi leans against the doorframe as he watches you knead the dough – one of the pies already in the oven. You look so nice in your overalls. He could just bend you over the kitchen counter and -

Shut the fuck up, Peña. Don’t even think about getting hard.

You startle when you turn around and see him, your dough-covered hand flying to your chest as you yelp. “Javier Peña, don’t scare me like that!” You scowl at him, your lip pursed and he grins – his hands shooting into the air in a silent apology.

“Didn't mean to, Bee.” The corner of his lips pulls up as you murmur “sure you didn’t" and turn back around to put more flour in the dough. He quickly washes his hands in the sink and comes behind you – he inhales your scent and closes his eyes. The hair on your neck stands up. “You smell so fucking good.” It's a quiet statement. You look at him wide-eyed and he gives you a confused look in return.

“What did you say?” Your throat pulls tighter. Shit, shit, shit.

“Uh-um, that if you'd show me how you knead the dough.” He closes his eyes – idiot, idiot. You breathe out a small “oh” and shake the shock off of you as you nod and come behind him as you grab his hands in yours.

And fuck, Javier thinks his pulse went from zero to a hundred in this second. His heart feels like it will jump out of his chest any second. Your small hands on his makes him think back to a few weeks ago.

You stayed at Peñas that night. You always drove back home but that night it was raining a lot and it was too late anyways. You agreed as Chucho asked you if you wanted to stay – they had a smaller spare room right next to Javis. You bid them both good night and fell asleep quickly after that. You were exhausted but a scream woke you up and you swiftly stood up on your feet and scrambled into Javier's room. He sat on the bed – all sweaty, his breath quick as his head rested in his palms. He looked up at you when the old wooden floor creaked under your footsteps. He cleared his throat and tried to hide from you. You crouched in front of him and offered him a little smile.

“You don’t have to hide from me, Javi.” And then he was pulling you into him, breathing you in, his hands pulled around you tightly as he sobbed into your shoulder. He was exhausted of pretending everything was fine. The weight of all the things that he did in Colombia came crashing down on him. You just shushed him as he listened to your heartbeat – his head on your chest, your hand in his as you stroked the back of it. When he finally calmed down he told you everything – the things he did, the things he should have done and the things he shouldn’t have. He told you about Los Pepes and Carilo, and the nightmares that still haunted him.

“I am just a shell of a man I once was, Bee.” He whispered into the night and you grabbed both sides of his face as you frowned at him.

“You are far more than that, Javi.” He wanted to kiss you right there and then but you pulled him on your chest again and he breathed you in once more. The slow rise and fall of your chest lulls him to sleep. He never slept that well in his life.

When he woke up the other side of the bed was cold but the smell of you – like an apple pie – lingered on the other pillow and he wanted to drown in it. He stroked himself at the thought of you as he smelled the pillow. Your soft hands and the feel of your breasts against his face, the small brush of your lips against his forehead. He came embarrassingly quickly and couldn’t look you straight in the eyes for a few days after that. Neither of you talked about that night. As if it never happened.

So now he curses himself as he feels how he twitches in his pants – the soft swell of your breasts pressed up against his back. The collar of his shirt is a bit too tight as well as his pants. For fucks sake, Peña. He hasn’t slept with anyone since he came back home and it showed. You don’t seem to notice though.

“You are pretty clumsy with your hands, Javier.” He chokes on seemingly nothing and almost pushes you onto the ground as he stumbles a few steps back. Let me show you how good with my hands I can be -

“Gotta take a shower.” He says and he takes the steps by two - almost falling over. He closes the door of the bathroom with little more force than necessary. He scrambles with his closes almost ripping them from him and he grabs his aching cock – tugging on it firmly as a spurt of precum shoots out of the head. He steps into the shower – the spray of cold water not helping him calm down his hammering heart or the way his skin seems to be on fire. He strokes himself quickly – the strokes measured as he thinks of your pretty lips around him or that pretty pussy you sure have. He thinks of the swell of your breast on his back, your breath on the back of his neck, your hand in his, your pretty smile and kind eyes. He thinks about how you would feel around him if he pounded into you from behind or what sounds would you make when he would go down on you. How wet would you be? Are you the quiet type or would he have to put his fingers – or something else – in your mouth to shut you up?

He grunts and his forehead bumps onto the cold tiles of the shower as he cums. He watches how the water downs his spend and he tries to wash the guilt he feels off of him too.

You are not his type, he thinks as he tugs on his cock for the final time.

You are going on a date. Javier watches with a frown on his face as you fumble around to finish the dinner. You are wearing a pretty dress – a light green one with a flowy skirt that exposes the whole expanse of your back. The strings on your shoulder are the only thing keeping it in place. You look absolutely incredible. He didn’t want you to go. Fuck, what if the guy was some kind of psycho? Or worse, what if he was actually a decent guy and you'd stop helping Chucho because you would be too occupied with your new little boy toy? What would Chucho do without you – yes, Chucho of course, not Javier. Javier wasn’t jealous and he definitely wasn’t praying that your date would end up in disaster...Okay, he felt jealous. Like “I will rip that guy in shreds” type of jealous.

And Javier would be alone tonight – Chucho left in the morning to visit his “friend” - he knows he went to Mária living across from the barber's shop. He didn’t say anythimg – the lie falling out of Chucho’s lips easily. And he felt happy for him – him moving on meant he was healing. Slowly but healing. Javi wanted to do something nice for you two tonight– the store-bought cheesecake lying in the fridge. He thought that you could watch TV today – watch anything you wanted. Maybe then he would slip his hand under the hem of your dress and he would -

“Javi!” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks a few times. You even put on makeup – the red lipstick making your lips look downright edible and he licks his own lips. He could pull you in and make you forget about your silly little date. But for once in his life Javier didn’t want to be greedy when it came down to you – you seemed so excited when you told him you had a date and he planted on the best fake smile on his face he could muster. Even though he felt sick to his stomach when you told him, his fingers twitching to catch your wrist and pull you close – to tell you you should fuck that guy and stay with him tonight. “You listening?”

“Sorry, what did you say?” You groan in annoyance – already running late – and you grab him by the collar – oh, he likes this a lot. You are so fucking close he feels your breath fan across his face.

“Listen, Javi. I don’t have time for this. The Chiles Rellenos are in the oven so they won't get cold as quickly. If it gets cold just put it in the microwave.” he nods – he knows this, of course – but wants to keep you busy because maybe then your date would cancel – no, he can't.

“Okay.” He says slowly and you let go of the collar of his shirt – just now noticing you grabbed him by it. You pull away from him. “If anything-”

“I call you. You already told me. Don’t worry, dad. I'll be fine.” You grin and turn on your heel waving a quick goodbye before the doors shut behind you. Javier gulps the growing ball in his throat and curses at himself. Idiota. But you know - of course you are not his type.

Javier watches the starry sky tonight. The cheesecake forgotten in the fridge alongside your dinner – he felt so sick to his stomach he was pretty sure he'd throw up if he ate anything. The warm blanket his mother knitted lays heavy on his shoulder as he looks at the sky – millions of stars showing tonight. You'd love to see it – maybe you already are. Star-watching sounds like the kind of date you would have loved. He fiddles with the handle of his mug filled with hot cocoa in his lap and thinks. About how he got here, about his fuck ups – and the biggest fuck up he has ever done was to let you go on that stupid date, he concludes. Okay, maybe not the biggest fuck up but close enough. He straightens up when he spots a car pulling into the driveway – your car. A small grin makes its way onto his lips until he sees your sagged shoulders and the slow way you drag your heels behind you.

“You have room for another in there?” You ask – your voice small compared to when you left. Pointing a finger at the spot next to him. He nods quickly and when you sit he immediately wraps the blanket around your shoulders – your head resting on his shoulder. It's quiet for a while as he offers you his mug and you drink from it leisurely. He knows you will tell him what happened if you want to. The silence is not awkward – it’s a comfortable one. He always feels comfortable with you. You pull away from him and put the mug on the ground – pulling your knees close to your chin.

“Can I ask you something?” You look at him from the corner of your eye, your words muffled by your knees.

“Anything, Bee.” And he means that. You could ask him anything in the world and he would answer you no matter what question.

“Why am I not your type? You know, cuz it seems I am no one's type.” He knows you are referring to the time when he was angry at you after you slapped him. But he didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t know how to answer – his tongue heavy all of the sudden and fuck, why is so hard to just tell you.

Rather than answering you he twists his torso so he can look at you – really look at you. The moonlight shines on half of your face and how did he never notice how pretty your eyes were? Or your plush lips, your soft hair? He gulps as he reaches forward tentatively – his palm resting on the side of your face now. And he expects you to pull away – to tell him to fuck off. But you don’t. His throat is dry and he feels like his lungs can't seem to have enough oxygen in them because his brain seems to stop functioning too. He brushes his fingertips across your cheek and you would have never expected that Javier Peña could be so gentle with his touch. He looks at your lips – your mouth open just a tiny bit and he sees your Adam's apple bob. Do you want this as much as he does? Or is he imagining things and projecting his own fucked up desires and feelings onto you at this very moment? He doesn’t have much time to think about it before your fingers tangle into his hair at the back of his head, his breath picks up and your mouth surges forward – your lips meeting his.

He feels like fireworks just exploded in his stomach. His skin tingles and his hands brush against the front of your dress. Your hand on his nape makes him groan into you and he brushes your collarbone with his calloused hand. He wanted this for so long and he didn’t even know about it. The other grabs you by the neck and pulls you even closer – the blanket falling off of you two when you swing your legs on either side of his narrow hips. He presses his lips against yours with more force and he is confident and greedy with it. He curls his hand around your waist and his fingertips dig into your hip while the other hand presses into your shoulder blades. He can feel the blood rushing through his veins and he is warm and fuzzy all over – his body humming with something he never felt before.

You were never kissed this way before – Javier takes, and takes but gives back even more in return. The kiss is impatient and hungry – like he waited for this all of his life. His hands on your skin make you hum out in pleasure and you trail your hand to his jaw – you can feel the stumble he has under your fingertips. You open your mouth to him and the hand on your hip squeezes you tighter, and he wants you closer, closer – this is not enough. Not close enough. And you feel the same as you pull him closer by the collar and he groans into your mouth. You can taste the warm cocoa on his tongue and his smell invades all your senses – cigarettes, his cologne and something entirely him. Musky and sweet. Your cheeks burn and your palms are sweaty when he pulls away from the kiss – his hands brushing along the exposed skin on your back, his thumb circling your hip. His forehead rests on yours as he tries to calm down and your nails scrape across his exposed chest – he always has a few buttons unbuttoned on his shirt and it drives you insane. He moans when he feels the sensation of your nails on his skin – his hips bucking up to meet yours and you mewl as you feel the bulge press up against your core.

“Fuck, Bee. I want to fuck you so badly. Do you want that too? Tell me. Tell me, please.” Javier Peña said please. He never says please. Yoou nod furiously as you peck him on the lips – his mouth surges to meet yours once again and you lap at his lower lip, your hands fisting into the material of his shirt.

“Wanted this since I was 16 and crazy in love with you, Javi.” You whisper against his lips and your confession makes his heart beat with joy. You loved him. He grips the flesh on your hips and mumbles a breathy “okay” before he stands up and carries you with him – your legs wrap around his middle. He stumbles a few times and almost trips on the stairs as he keeps kissing you – his tongue nibbling at your collarbones, his hands supporting your weight as he holds you by the back of your thighs.

When you arrive in his room he throws you on the bed and starts to quickly undress. His fingers shake and he can't seem to unbutton the fucking shirt. Fuck. He stands in front of the edge of the bed and you lean back on your elbows – your gaze heavy with lust. As you see him struggling you crawl onto the edge of the bed and loop your fingers between his belt. He stops and looks at you – you eye the heavy bulge between his thighs and he gulps when your fingers trail his jean-clad cock which jumps with interest under your touch. He has never been this fucking hard before and he knows it's not because for the past few months, the only thing he has been fucking was his fist – it's because of you. “Let me.” You murmur and he nods, he watches your nimble fingers working on his buttons and when he shackles the piece of clothing off him your hands map out his chest, coming down to his belly button and you lick your lips when you see the trail of hairs leading down into the waistband of his jeans. You kiss him right there – on the soft swell of his tummy – and he jumps forward, his hands gripping your head to keep you there. You grin against his skin and your tongue pokes out of your mouth to lick him there – he shudders, and the grip on your head loosens. You pull away from him and your hands start working on his belt – it falls to the ground with a quiet cling of the metal.

You cup him in your hand through the fabric of his jeans – even now you can feel how heavy he is and that he will feel fucking big inside of you. “You are a big boy aren't you, Javi?” He whimpers at your question and nods furiously as he looks down at you – your gaze immediately locking with his as you are already peering up at him through your eyelashes and you pout at his state. You never expected Javier to be so...needy. He closes his eyes when you squeeze him again and then he hears the sound of a zipper, he feels your breath ghosting over his tip. “No underwear?” He shakes his head and chokes when you lick the salty precum.

“No-no. Fuck. Too uncomfortable.” His eyes close as if he's in pain and his nostril flare when he feels the first velvety slide of your tongue against his cock. Your pulse quickens and you feel too fucking powerful right now as you feel him swell even more in your mouth. You hold his gaze as you pull off of him and flatten your tongue – licking your way to the underside of his cock. His hands cradle the back of your head, his pupils completely blown as he watches you put open-mouth kisses onto the hard warm flesh that jumps under your attention.

And he is fucking big – his size obvious by sight and by the way he feels around your hand – heavy and warm. But you really feel it when you take him deeper into your throat the girth of his cock opens your mouth wider. The broken sound between a whimper and a groan makes you clench around nothing and he tastes exactly how you imagined him – clean and delicious – exactly like Javier looks. You can't fit all of him in your mouth but you try – focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat – the squelching sounds of your mouth bobbing up and down his length filling the room. You try to take him deeper and deeper – until you gag around him and pull away. Javis's mouth is wide open when you pull off of him – spit trailing from your lips and connecting you to the swollen tip of his cock. His chest heaves and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip – collecting the saliva – and puts it in his mouth – he groans with approval and it makes you want to give him more. You sink your awaiting mouth back onto his cock once more and moan when another spurt of precum lands on your tongue. Your hand is securely wrapped around the base of his cock as you stroke him slowly and you look back up at him.

He looks absolutely and positively wrecked – his hair falling in front of his eyes and sticking to his forehead as he grits his teeth struggling to not make you take him deeper – to not fuck your throat. His grip on your hair tightens as he starts panting harshly and you feel him twitch in your mouth – you can feel he is almost there – but then he pulls back from you.

He almost lifts you into the air as his tongue delves into your mouth – wanting to taste himself on you. The bitterness of himself on your tongue makes him groan into your mouth and you never expected him to be this vocal. He steps out of his jeans and then he is back on you – his fingers working on the straps of your dress while he plants butterfly kisses on the column of your throat. He discards the piece of clothing as if it has offended him somehow and he pulls back to look at you – you can see the muscle on his thigh flex as he tries to keep his balance on his heels. His hands reach back for you – grabbing you under your knees before he is pulling you closer to him. His fingers dip into the waistband of your panties before they are too thrown somewhere behind him.

His thick fingers work their way inside you without a warning – two of them plunging deep. You are soft, and pliant under him. Your walls squeeze him tight when he moves his finger up, up – until you sob and grab his wrist - to stop him or to plea for him to keep doing that you aren't sure. It never felt like this and he grins against the flesh of your cheek – kissing you there softly. His other hand grabs one of your tits and he pinches the nipple – it hardens under his hard touch. He bends down to suck it into his mouth and your hand shoots out to the back of his head – keeping him there. One of your thighs is firmly planted on his shoulder and his fingernails dig into your ankle, the blunt nails creating crescent shapes. Your heel digs into his shoulder with a particular shove into your cunt – the tips of his fingers brushing against something that makes you hold your breath.

The way you keep repeating his name makes him want to never leave your perfect cunt. His name and the wet sounds of your pussy sucking him in make him light-headed. He wishes no one would call him Javi again after he hears it from your mouth – whiny and high-pitched, filled with the need to let go.

“Come on, Bee. I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking give it to me. I want you to soak my fingers.” You nod vigorously and sob when his thumb starts drawing harsh circles against your clit. He hits nerves inside of you you didn’t even knew you had before. You take everything he gives – the flick of his wrist, his fingers petting your walls, his mouth on yours. You cum when he bites you into the juncture between your shoulder and neck – his tongue smoothing the bite. You feel him smile against your mouth when you cry out into him – his fingers still working inside of you until you wheeze and tell him to stop. He pulls them out and maps your body with your juices – the slick trail shining under the moonlight that falls onto the both of you.

He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom – ripping the foil packet between his teeth before he puts it onto his length. He sits up on his heels – his cock bobbing with the movement and you gulp as he pats his thigh – telling you to come to him and you do – all jelly legged and sedated after your first orgasm. He pulls you close by the small of your back and his cock nudges against your entrance when you swing your legs around his waist. His hairy legs stick to the back of your thighs and you can feel the sweat rolling off him – his hands supporting you as you sink down on him. Your mouth forming into an “o” and you let out a breathless moan. You knew he was big – as his girth opened up your mouth more and the weight of him heavy on your tongue. But this feels entirely different. You squirm on his lap and he grunts – his other hand coming down onto the flesh of your ass. The pinch you feel as he fills you completely is uncomfortable and you grip his bicep – your nails digging into the flesh there. He hisses and kisses you – the kiss languid and slow. His tongue traces your mouth and your grip loosens – your muscles start to relax.

“Javi, you are so big.” You don’t say him to make him feel better or feed his ego – it's just a fact. Clear and simple. His nose bumps against yours and he looks into your eyes – he is so close he is breathing the oxygen you exhale.

“I know, hermosa. But you can take it. Can’t you?” The new term of endearment falling out of his mouth is surprising but welcome nevertheless. He waits for your answer as he fights himself not to move – your walls squeezing around him and he counts to five so he doesn’t cum right now like some kind of fucking teenager.

Javier slept with a lot of women. One night stands, prostitutes, his fiancé. But he never felt like this with anyone. His heart never hammered in his chest so quickly and the blood in his veins didn’t boil. His skin never felt like it was on fire by a simple touch. It's new and he welcomes it with open arms. He is tired of fighting and running. This is his new life and it's not too bad – it's better than it ever was. He never feels small with you and he chases that feeling.

“Yes, I can. I can take it. Please move, Javi.” He listens to your command – the first drag of his cock through your walls feels intoxicating. His hot breath fans against your chest as his forehead rests on it and his hand that was gripping your ass moves to your hip – dragging you up and down his cock as you meet his every perfectly measured thrust. He maps your body and listens to your reactions – he figures out what you like or what you really don’t after a few minutes as he pounds into you.

You don’t know which one of you is louder but it makes him even sexier – the guys you’ve been with before weren't so enthusiastic about it and you felt like they didn’t even wanted to be there – the only hint of them enjoying it was when they came with a quiet grunt and fall onto the bed next to you. Javier is different – he always was – and you live for all the sounds he makes. How he gropes you and maps out your body – his fingers dipping into every crease and curve of your body. And you can feel that in each thrust there is this hidden emotion that he doesn’t want to show. But you grew up with him and can read him pretty well – and your heart swells with the unspoken words. You don’t need to hear them. He will figure it out himself eventually.

He feels that you are close after he gives you a particularly hardh thrust and you squeal – your nails scratching his muscular back that you’ve been ogling anytime he came out of the shower without a t-shirt or when it was too hot outside and decided the piece of clothing wasn’t necessary in that kind of weather. His mustache scrapes along the flesh on your breasts and you feel his hips shift – the change of position making him feel even bigger. He puts his thumb into your mouth as he looks at you and you suck it – it tastes of you and sweat but you don’t care – as he pulls it out and starts rubbing your clit with it.

It only takes a few drags of his cock before you are cumming – your clit throbbing as he keeps pressure on it. Your walls squeeze him and he feels like he can't move any further. Your fingers curl into his hair and tug him so he is looking at you. He is all lust-blown eyes and his baring teeth turned into a snarl. You can feel every vein and bump in his cock with every thrust and he twitches inside of you – his hand coming to hold the hinge of your jaw as his tongue tangles with yours once again. It's frantic as are his deep thrusts and you are pretty sure he will break the bed soon – the headboard hitting the wall with every pass of his hips. You admire how fucking lost in you he looks – slack-jawed and dazed. You tug on his hair once more and the reaction is almost instant – his hips faltering for a moment seemingly losing his rhythm.

“Come on, Javi. I want you to look at me when you cum.” Your requests makes him shut his eyes before he shudders and opens them – your name a broken record when he spills into the condom. You scratch him on the back of his head – your movements slow and languid. He pulls out of you after a moment – when he catches his breath and his heartbeat evens out – even though when he is with you it seems impossible.

The aftercare is soft and sweet as he lays on his back and pulls you close to him – stroking your spine and kissing the top of your head.

“Do you want me to leave?” He pulls you tighter against him after you ask him that and he grips your chin so you look at him.

“Never again, Bee. I want you right here with me.” You sigh in contentment and give him a sweet kiss.

You are definitely his type, Javier thinks as he feels your breath even out and slowly, he falls asleep too – you in his arms – and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#javier pena #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #javier pena reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #soft javi #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal ff #narcos smut #javier pena one shot

5K notes · View notes

hihomeghere · 15 days

Text

Salt and Pepper | Arthur Morgan / Reader

Word count : 1.4k Summary : Arthur notices his hair is starting to gray. I saw a post on here about Arthur with salt and pepper hair and I couldn’t stop myself hehe. Warnings/Tags : talk about death, getting old, Arthur loves his wife, no tb, Arthur and reader own a house, mention of past gang members, cursing, lots of fluff, self deprecation on Arthur’s side, bullets, mention of weight gain (in a positive way)

“Godamn ugly bastard.” Arthur huffed, his gaze piercing as he looked into the mirror. He hadn’t meant to have himself a pity party this morning. In fact he was feeling quite fine this morning before looking in the small bathroom mirror. Waking up next to you always puts a spring in his step. Especially when he’s waking up in a real bed, underneath a soft quilt that you happened to sew in some free time. Mismatched patches and all, it was his favorite thing in the small home you two shared. Hell, you were becoming quite domestic ever since the house was completed.

But he wasn’t exactly expecting to find gray hair sprouting from his hairline. He wasn’t that old, was he?

“Jesus.” He sighed, inspecting further he realized it wasn’t one or two gray hairs, it was almost twenty. Hidden under his longer than normal locks after forgoing a haircut for the last couple weeks. He was surprised you hadn’t noticed them, especially with how much you loved to run your fingers through his hair. Although, he loved it just as much, maybe even more.

God, he needed to get rid of these before you saw them. He was sure you had some tweezers around here somewhere. He opened up your drawer, rifling around for your tweezers. Bingo. His hands gripped the small piece of metal, a triumphant smile on his face.

It was only once he looked back up into the mirror, determined to fix this issue before you woke up, that he noticed you padding into the bathroom. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you wrapped your arms around his middle.

“Mornin’.” You hummed, laying your cheek against his bicep, smiling sweetly at him through the mirror.

“Mornin’.” He said, clearing his throat.

“What do you need those for?” You asked, eyeing the tweezers in his hand. Caught red handed, he tried coming up with some excuse.

“Nothin’ sweetheart.” He said, giving you his signature smile, kissing your forehead. He slipped the tweezers into his pocket for safe keeping, at least until he had a free moment without you around. After all those years on the run and he could come up with nothing, Hosea would have been so disappointed in his lack of an answer. He swore he could hear the old man chastising him now.

“For a former outlaw you sure are an awful liar.” You tutted, shaking your head, slipping your fingers into his pocket and pulling out the tweezers.

“Well it ain’t my fault,” He huffed playfully, “Could never get nothin’ past you anyway.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. You removed your hands from around his waist, leaning back on the sink as you looked up at him.

“Spill.” You said raising an eyebrow, your arms crossed over your chest.

Knowing he’d been caught, Arthur hung his head, a low sigh leaving his lips.

“It’s just-“ He cursed, turning to look away from you, “Well I’m goin’ gray.” He admitted, not meeting your eyes.

“And?” You asked in such a nonchalant manner.

“And?” He asked looking up at you, his brows furrowed.

“So you have some gray hairs.” You said with a shrug, “You’re acting like the damn world is ending.” You chuckled softly, a smile tugging on your lips.

“Well-“ Arthur sighed, pursing his lips, he didn’t want to be vain but damn it, it did feel like the world was ending.

“Honey.” You said softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Ain’t nothing wrong with some gray hairs.” You said, shaking your head, looking so goddamn patient as always. What he did in a past life to deserve you he would never know, he definitely didn’t deserve you in this one. You smiled, running your thumb over his couple day old stubble. He couldn’t help but sigh softly, leaning into your touch.

“Just makes me feel old ‘s all.” He shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Arthur.” You said softly, he opened his eyes. His bright azure pools looking into yours. “Getting old means we’re still alive.” You said pointedly, not missing the way your fingers trailed lightly down his chest.

He sighed softly, anyone who said he was the most like Hosea had obviously never had a one on one conversation with you. You had shared the same dry wit along with being just as wise as the old man. Sometimes he wondered if the two of you were more closely related than just being adopted by him as a kid.

As your hand settled over his heart, he couldn’t help but remember a time when you didn’t have this place. When his next breath had been an undeserved blessing. When you and Charles had pulled his broken body off that godforsaken mountain. You were right, he should be grateful for these gray hairs and new lines on his face. Should be grateful that he made it this far out west with you, where the air was dryer and slowly his lungs didn’t hurt as bad with each breath.

If anything he should be grateful that you’re here, here in this house. The house that he built specifically for you. That you’re not buried six feet under like most of the fellow gang members. That you didn’t catch a bullet like Lenny or Sean, how he wished they could have had the chance to grown old. Even as mouthy as Sean was, the poor bastard didn’t deserve that. Lenny was just a boy, foolish enough to be sucked in by Dutch’s silver tongue. He shook his head trying to clear any thoughts of the past.

God, along with the fact that somehow both of you still happen to be standing, the fact that you chose to stand by him after everything you went through makes his head swim. You could have left him at any point, hell he had begged you to leave after his death sentence. And yet, here you were.

“Guess you’re right.” He said, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Course I am.” You teased, a smile spreading across your face. You leaned forward, brushing your nose against his. He accepted your silent invitation, pressing his lips against yours. So soft and warm and inviting. He could feel you smile against his lips. That small smile warmed him from the inside out, nearly making his toes curl.

Jesus, he was lucky. More than lucky, he still couldn’t figure out how he had tricked you into marrying him. He wanted to be the best version of himself for you, he had made a promise to try every day to be a better man for you. You shouldn’t be tied down to a miserable old fool like himself.

As if you could read his mind, which he often suspected you could, your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Besides,” You began as you pulled away, “I like the salt and pepper look.” Arthur scoffed, shaking his head.

“Really?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Really.” You nodded, running your hand through his hair. “Think you get more handsome every day.” If anyone was getting prettier every day it was you. Your hair was longer, cascading down your shoulders in waves. No longer tied up in a tight braid or bun. You looked relaxed, at peace. You became softer once you both settled into your new lifestyle. Not just emotionally, although you still had that fire which had first drawn him towards you, like a moth to a flame. You were physically softer, your harsh edges smoothing out as you started to eat and sleep better. Your curves became more prominent, and he certainly didn’t mind having more to hold onto late at night.

Maybe you truly did feel the same about him. He had never known you to lie. A blush settled on his cheeks at the thought. He shook his head, a small chuckle rumbling through his chest.

“Yeah, alright darlin’.” He says taking your face in his hands, kissing you again before you had the chance to embarrass him further.

Maybe getting old wasn’t so bad if you had someone to grow old with.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #hosea matthews #red dead redemption #rdr #hihomeghere #dutch van der linde #Charles smith #Arthur died??not in my Minecraft server #john marston #fluff

556 notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 7 months

Text

Playing Cupid

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: convinced that you and Max must be the most oblivious people on earth, the rest of the grid decide to take matters into their own hands

“Hey, I bet I can beat you to the debrief room!” Max’s voice carries through the paddock, his familiar smile in place.

You roll your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips. “You always say that and yet here we are.”

He chuckles, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face, “Optimism, it’s just part of my charm.”

“You mean your delusion?” You tease, nudging him with your elbow.

There’s a pause as you both make your way, the chatter of crew members a steady background hum as Max’s laughter and your shared jokes create a bubble around the two of you.

“You two are like the dynamic duo of Red Bull,” Daniel pipes up from where he’s leaning against the wall with his signature grin stretching across his face. “Batman and Robin vibes.”

You glance at Max, raising an eyebrow. “Batman and Robin? More like Tom and Jerry.”

Max snorts. “Which one am I?”

“Definitely Tom. Always chasing but never quite catching up.” You stick out your tongue playfully.

Daniel shakes his head with a laugh, “The chemistry though! It’s electric. The entire grid sees it.”

You look puzzled, glancing at Max whose face mirrors your own. “What are you on about, Danny?”

Before he can reply, Max’s race engineer joins in, “He’s not wrong. It’s like watching two magnets circle each other, not knowing they’re meant to connect.”

Max shrugs, looking slightly embarrassed at GP’s observation, “We’re just good friends. Teammates. That’s all.”

You nod in agreement. “Exactly! Just because we joke around doesn’t mean—”

“—there’s anything more,” Max finishes for you, the two of you so in sync it makes GP and Daniel exchange amused glances.

“Whatever you say,” GP chuckles.

The day wears on, filled with the usual press conferences, race strategies, and banter. But now, there’s an underlying hum, a question that seems to have spread among the drivers and teams: what if?

In the evening, as you’re about to make your way back to the hotel, Lewis sidles up to you. “You and Max, huh? That’s something. The fans will love it.”

You blink in surprise. “We’re just teammates. That’s all.”

He winks. “For now.”

You just laugh it off, not sure how to respond.

Later that night, you and Max find yourselves in a private corner of your hotel restaurant, both tired but satisfied. “Did Lewis say something weird to you too?” Max asks, sipping his drink.

You nod. “About us. I mean, we’re close, but all this talk ... it’s a bit strange, right?”

He sighs, “Yeah. Just because two people get along doesn’t mean they’re ... you know, together together.”

You chuckle. “Exactly. We’re friends. Best friends. That’s all.”

***

“Truth or dare!” The booming voice with an enthusiastic Australian accent echoes across the lounge where a few of the drivers have gathered post-qualifying, hoping to unwind.

Max groans from beside you. “Do we have to? Every time it ends up embarrassing at least one of us.”

You nudge him, laughing. “Oh, come on. Scared of a little dare, Verstappen?”

Daniel’s eyes gleam with mischief. “Exactly. What are you so afraid of, Maxie? Maybe revealing a certain ... secret?”

Lando, lounging on a sofa, chips in, “Or maybe singing a serenade for a certain someone?”

Max’s cheeks turn a shade redder while you feel your own face heat up. “I think Danny and Lando are in cahoots,” you whisper to Max, who chuckles in agreement.

“Alright, alright,” Max concedes, “Truth or dare. Bring it on.”

Daniel’s smile widens even further, a clear sign that he’s up to no good. “Okay, Max. Truth or dare?”

Max hesitates for a split second. “Dare.”

Daniel rubs his hands together with a surprisingly convincing evil smirk. “I dare you to serenade ...” He deliberately drags out the suspense, glancing around the room before pointing directly at you, “... your lovely teammate here.”

The room erupts into laughter and teasing. “Oh, this is going to be good!”

Max looks at you apologetically but there’s a playful glint in his eye. “Alright, alright. What song?”

You shake your head, already giggling in anticipation of what is to come. “Surprise me.”

Gathering courage, Max stands up, clearing his throat dramatically. He looks right into your eyes, a playful glint in his, and starts singing “I Want It That Way” … mostly.

“Tell me why … I keep crashing into walls. Tell me why … I can’t seem to win them all. Tell me why … I never want to hear you say, box box box box box.”

You laugh so hard that tears stream down your face. The room is filled with laughter, claps, and a few playful boos (mostly from Charles who seem partially traumatized by the mention of boxing).

“That’s officially the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your words.

Max takes a bow, still red-faced. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

As the night winds down and the group starts to disperse, Daniel sidles up to you. “Soooooo …. did the serenade work?”

You laugh, “It was entertaining, to say the least. But Max and I ...” You trail off, not sure how to put your relationship into words.

“It’s alright,” Daniel nods understandingly and for a moment you actually think he might stop scheming to get the two of you together. But then he winks, “Sometimes the best things take time.”

***

“Formula 1 is as much about connections off the track as it is on,” Lewis begins, his voice smooth, measured, a practiced art in front of the cameras during the press conference. Flashbulbs click and reporters scribble notes. “Sometimes those connections are ... more than what meets the eye. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You raise an eyebrow. Next to you, Max shuffles slightly awkwardly.

Before you can answer, Lewis continues, eyes glinting with mischief, “For instance, teams with two drivers who might be ... more than just teammates?” His gaze flits subtly between you and Max, a tiny smirk playing on his lips.

Max laughs it off. “Talking about you and George? Or was it back with Nico?”

A ripple of laughter flows through the conference room and you bite back a smile, appreciating Max’s deflection.

Lewis grins, completely unfazed. “Good one. But no, I’ve heard some rumors about another team ... one that rhymes with Bed Rull, perhaps?”

Now you feel the need to intervene, “Rumors are just that, Lewis. Rumors. Max and I are teammates, good friends. Nothing more.” You keep your voice light but firm.

“But isn’t it interesting,” Lewis ponders aloud, “how two people can spend so much time together, share so many experiences, practically think with the same brain, and still not notice a ... deeper connection?”

Max’s eyes meet yours briefly, a momentary search for an answer, a reaction perhaps. But as quick as the look is, it’s gone.

After finishing up with media, Charles shoots a dimpled smile your way. “Quite the interview by Lewis, huh? He’s not usually one for gossip.”

You laugh. “Trying to stir the pot, I guess. Maybe he’s bored? Everyone loves a good love story.”

Charles nods, his gaze a bit more serious. “But sometimes … sometimes rumors are built on a foundation of truth. Even if you don’t see it.”

You mull over his words but before you can respond, Max joins the conversation. “Is everyone becoming a relationship expert these days or something?”

Charles just shrugs with an impish grin. “Maybe we all just want to see our friends happy.”

The comment gives you pause. Is that all this is? Friendly teasing? Or is there something more you’re missing? Something right in front of you that you’re not seeing?

But for now, as you and Max head back towards the Red Bull motorhome, you push those thoughts aside, determined to focus on the upcoming race and the challenge it presents.

***

“Fancy seeing you here!” Your team principal greets you, his tone feigning surprise as you walk into the upscale restaurant.

Max squints at him suspiciously. “You invited us both here, Christian.”

“Yes, a lovely team dinner. Just the three of us,” Christian confirms with an overly innocent smile as he guides you both to a table by the window.

The setting is intimate, with soft lighting and plush seating. A live harpist is serenading diners. It’s definitely not your typical “team dinner.”

“Christian,” you muse aloud, “this place looks a tad extravagant for a casual dinner, does it not?”

He shrugs, a smile still in place. “Consider it a treat for the team’s recent successes.”

Before you can continue your line of questioning, a waiter approaches to take your orders. You and Max share a conspiratorial glance.

“I’ll have the lobster bisque to start. With extra lobster,” Max begins, deciding to indulge.

“I’ll take the osetra caviar. You can bring the entire tin. With extra blini,” you add, grinning as you see Christian’s eyes widen.

Christian clears his throat. “Well, I actually just remembered an urgent call I have to take. Enjoy the meal, you two.” And with that, he hurries away, leaving you both chuckling.

Max leans in with a whisper, “Do you think he’s up to something?”

“Absolutely. Let’s make him pay ... literally. He did say it’s on him.”

Safe to say that you both enjoy the finest dishes the restaurant has to offer. “At this rate,” you joke as the waiter opens your second bottle of ridiculously expensive wine, “Red Bull is going to break the budget cap because of catering. Again.”

Throughout the meal, you and Max discuss the recent upgrades to your cars, dissecting each detail with genuine interest and passion. The conversation flows easily but is entirely centered on racing.

Unbeknownst to you both, scattered around the restaurant are various team members and drivers in disguises, watching your every move. From Daniel donning a fake mustache as he pretends to be a waiter to Yuki wearing a chef’s hat peeking out of the kitchen, they’re all there and all invested in the outcome of the evening.

From his spot behind the bar, Lando, sporting a terrible wig, groans. “They’re just talking about tire degradation! This is so frustrating.”

Charles, disguised as a saxophonist with a carefully trimmed goatee, chimes in, “I thought this would be it. This setting is perfect.”

Back at your table, you raise your glass. “To another successful season and having amazing teammates.”

Max clinks his glass against yours, laughing. “Cheers to that!”

As you leave, completely oblivious to your undercover audience, the collective sigh of exasperation from the team members is almost audible even over the live music.

***

“What’s this?” You lift the elegantly wrapped package from your locker, examining the tag which reads: From Fernando - Enjoy the relaxation.

Max, peering over your shoulder, also pulls out a similar package from his locker. “Looks like we both got gifts.”

Ripping open the delicate paper, you pull out a luxurious pamphlet. The cover boasts a serene image of a spa, complete with candle-lit rooms and peaceful landscapes. Max’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s got the same one.

“A couples spa retreat?” Max reads aloud, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Really?”

Fernando, passing by at that exact moment, grins cheekily. “Thought you two could use some relaxation and a day off the track.”

“Very thoughtful of you,” you reply, peering up at him skeptically, “But why a couples retreat?”

Fernando shrugs, the picture of innocence. “It had the best reviews. Just trying to be a good friend.”

Max laughs, rolling his eyes. “Well, thanks for the ... thoughtful gift. Might as well use it.”

And so, you find yourself at the spa, wrapped in plush robes as the gentle hum of soft music and flowing water fills the air.

Max, his feet soaking in a warm tub and a clay mask setting on his face, looks over at you. “You think this was another one of their schemes to get us together?”

You laugh, dipping your toes into the fragrant water. “At this point, nothing would surprise me.”

The day goes on with various treatments — massages, scrubs, and mud baths. But instead of talking about personal lives or diving deep into emotions, you both end up discussing the possible benefits of the treatments.

“You know,” Max muses as he receives a deep tissue massage, “this technique might help with muscle fatigue after long races.”

You, getting a foot massage, nod in agreement. “Absolutely. And the mud bath we took earlier? Might help with detoxifying after particularly sweaty race weekends.”

The spa therapists, used to couples sharing intimate moments, are clearly bemused by your discussions.

Later, as you both relax in the sauna, Fernando sneaks a peek through a small window, hoping to catch a romantic moment. But to his chagrin, he finds you both animatedly discussing the aerodynamics of your cars.

“Did you notice the slight drag on the left during the last turn?” You ask, wiping away sweat.

Max nods. “I’ve been meaning to bring that up. We need to discuss that with the team.”

Fernando sighs, leaning against the wall outside the sauna. “They’re hopeless,” he mutters to himself.

He approaches you both later, looking slightly defeated. “So, the spa day? Did it perhaps help ... bring you two closer?”

You smile, patting him on the shoulder. “It was amazing for our driving techniques. Thanks, Fernando.”

Max nods in agreement, “Best spa day ever. We’re thinking of making it a regular thing.”

Fernando groans, realizing that his plan, like all the others, has somehow backfired. “I give up. You two are impossible.”

***

“Beach volleyball? Seriously?” Max raises an eyebrow, looking at the makeshift court that Lando and George have set up on the sand.

George grins, passing a volleyball between his hands. “Thought it’d be a fun way to unwind. And we’ve set the teams so it’s fair and ... interesting.”

Lando winks. “You and Y/N are paired up, of course. We thought you two could use some quality time together.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smirk that forms on your lips. “Let me guess, another one of your schemes to play matchmaker?”

Lando feigns shock. “Us? We would never.”

You laugh, pulling Max towards your side of the makeshift court. “Alright then, let’s do this. Prepare to be schooled, boys.”

What was meant to be a friendly match quickly turns intense. Max and you make a formidable team. The chemistry on the track seamlessly transitions to the sand, both of you equally competitive and always anticipating the other’s next moves.

“I didn’t know you two were this good!” George pants, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

You wink at him, taking your position. “There’s a lot you don’t know about us.”

Neither you nor Max are willing to give an inch. Diving saves, powerful spikes, and clever feints — you both are in it to win it.

Lando, gasping and covered in sand, mutters to George, “This was supposed to be fun. Not an Olympic match.”

The final point arrives, with you and Max at an advantage. Lando, attempting a weak serve, sends the ball perfectly to you. With a powerful run-up, you spike the ball back directly towards him. It’s fast, precise, and ... it ends up hitting Lando square in his balls.

He collapses on the hot sand, groaning. The surrounding crowd winces empathetically but you and Max? You both burst into uncontrollable laughter, falling to your knees for an entirely different reason.

“Lando!” George rushes to his side, a mix of concern and amusement on his face.

Still on the ground, Lando whines, “There go my chances of ever having kids.”

Max, between fits of laughter, manages to say, “Sorry, mate. But that was ... epic.”

You nod in agreement, offering Lando a hand. “Next time, be prepared if you’re going to challenge us. We don’t do things by halves.”

Lando takes your hand to pull himself up. “Noted. No more volleyball with you two.”

***

“Whoa,” Max blinks, staring at his phone screen. “Did you just text me?”

You frown, looking up from your own phone. “No, why?”

He shows you the screen where a message pops up, supposedly from you:

I’ve been meaning to tell you

I think I have feelings for you

Your eyes widen in shock. “I definitely didn’t send that. Wait …” You check your phone, finding a similar message supposedly from Max:

Ever since we became teammates, I’ve felt something more

Do you feel the same?

Confused, you show Max the message. The two of you exchange bewildered glances. “What is happening?” He asks, genuinely perplexed.

You shake your head. “Someone must think it’s funny to play a game with us.”

From a distance, behind the pit wall, Pierre Gasly is trying hard to suppress his laughter, watching the two of you. He nudges Charles who is next to him. “Do you think they bought it?”

Charles grins, “Knowing those two, they will probably figure it out. But it was worth the shot.”

Back at your spot, Max raises an eyebrow, “Did you by any chance get a new number recently?”

You nod. “Yeah, last week. Remember I gave it to you when we flew in? But only the team and our friends have it. Who would pull such a prank?”

Max smirks, “I have a few suspects in mind.”

You both decide to play along, typing away furiously. Max’s smirk grows wider with every passing second. “Let’s see how much our prankster likes the cards being reversed.”

Minutes later, Pierre’s phone buzzes. It’s a message from Max:

I’m so relieved you feel the same

How about dinner tonight?

Somewhere private?

Pierre’s eyes widen in surprise. He quickly checks your supposed response:

Of course I do!

Can’t believe we waited this long to admit our feelings

See you tonight? Let’s meet in the lobby for drinks and maybe dessert if you’re lucky ❤️

Pierre gulps, shooting a panicked look at Charles. “I think I’ve made a huge mistake.”

Charles snickers. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

Later in the day, Pierre approaches with guilt basically stamped across his forehead. “Look, about the texts you got …”

You grin. “Figured it out, did you?”

Max chuckles, clapping Pierre on the back. “Nice try but despite what you may think, we’re not complete idiots. ”

Pierre sighs in relief. “Honestly, I thought I might have ignited something real for a moment there.”

You laugh, “I would hope any grand confession of love I receive happens through something other than sneaky texts.”

Pierre nods, smiling sheepishly. “Fair enough. But hey, if you ever do decide to go for a romantic dinner, let me know. It’s on me.”

Max grins, “Deal.”

***

The paddock is transformed. A massive screen is set up, loungers and bean bags are spread around, and fairy lights dangle from above as a large screen and projector take center stage.

“Rom-coms?” Max squints at the list Charles is holding, a collection of the cheesiest, most cliche romantic movies available.

Charles grins, unashamed. “Best way to set the mood, right?”

You laugh, “Still trying to make Lestappen happen?”

Charles blushes. “That was one time! Besides, I have moved on to more ... realistic goals.”

Lando pops up from behind a popcorn stand, “Like getting you two to finally see what’s right in front of you.”

You roll your eyes, playfully pelting a handful of popcorn at his head. “Enough with the matchmaking.”

The movie starts and it’s clear that every spot has been strategically taken, leaving just one chair available. Daniel points to your teammate with a deceivingly innocent expression, “Why don’t you sit on Max’s lap? Save space.”

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “Or you could give up your seat and come sit on my lap yourself.”

The surrounding drivers erupt in laughter as Daniel smiles widely, conceding the point. You both end up squeezing into the chair somehow.

As the movie plays, instead of getting swept up in the romance, you both start dissecting it.

“Why would she run in the rain after him? That’s just asking for pneumonia,” Max comments as the heroine dashes through a downpour.

You nod in agreement, “And those heels? Totally impractical. She should have changed into boots.”

Charles groans, burying his face in his hands. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

George pats his hair sympathetically, “You tried. That’s what matters.”

As the movie reaches its climax with a grand chase through the airport, you muse, “You know, airports have strict security. How did he even get to the gate without a boarding pass?”

Max nods, “And the plane? Totally off. They used the wrong model. That one can’t fly long-haul.”

Charles jumps up in exasperation. “That’s it! No more movies. You two are ridiculous.”

You grin, throwing an arm around Max. “Oh, come on. Admit it … you love us.”

Max chuckles, “Thanks for the movie night. Learned a lot about airport logistics and practical footwear.”

Charles sighs but a smile tugs at his lips. “We’re really not being paid enough for this.”

***

“Team-building exercise?” Max echoes. Both of you are seated in Christian’s office, a mysterious smile playing on the team principal’s lips.

Christian nods, gesturing to the woman beside him. “This is Dr. Amelia Foster, a top relationship expert.”

You exchange a hesitant glance with Max. “Relationship expert? But we’re not a couple.”

Dr. Foster chuckles, adjusting her glasses. “I’m not here for romantic purposes. I help partners of all kinds communicate better. Even teammates.”

Max leans forward. “So, what’s the plan?”

Christian clears his throat. “A simple session. See if there’s any room for improvement in your communication. I mean, you two are already a great team. Imagine if you were even better?”

Dr. Foster nods, opening her notebook. “Let’s start with a basic exercise. Max, describe how you feel when Y/N makes a risky move.”

Max thinks for a moment. “Concerned, I guess. I trust her skills but I also worry about her safety.”

You smile, touched. “And I feel proud when Max nails a difficult maneuver. He has an instinct during races that is unmatched.”

The session continues, delving into how you view each other’s strengths, weaknesses, and driving styles. As the conversation flows, Dr. Foster introduces various communication techniques.

“Now, let’s practice active listening,” she suggests. “Y/N, tell Max something, and Max, you’ll repeat it back in your own words.”

You nod. “Alright. Sometimes, when we’re racing side by side, I wish you would give me a tiny bit more space.”

Max considers then responds, “You’d like me to be a bit more cautious and ensure you have enough room during close races.”

Dr. Foster claps her hands. “Excellent! See? It’s about mutually understanding and validating each other’s perspectives.”

By the end of the session, both of you are genuinely engrossed in the exercises, seeing the potential benefits for your on-track dynamic.

As you both leave, Max turns to you, excitement in his eyes. “That technique where we visualize the other’s perspective? That could be a game-changer during races!”

You nod in agreement. “Absolutely! And the active listening can help during debriefs. Ensure we’re always on the same page.”

Christian, waiting outside, is initially hopeful upon seeing your animated discussion. “So, did the two of you ... connect?”

Max grins, “Oh, we did! I think our communication on the track is going to be better than ever.”

Christian sighs, realizing his matchmaking attempt has gone astray once again. “Not quite what I had in mind but I’ll take it for now.”

***

“I swear, rain at a race weekend is the universe’s way of telling us to slow down,” you quip, leaning back in your chair as the rain pours outside.

Max chuckles from his seat next to you. “Or it’s just weather. But I prefer your explanation.”

The sound of the rain has already lulled a group of mechanics to sleep. There’s an unexpected calm with the usual bustle of the race on hold.

You pull out your phone, browsing your music. “Let’s trade favorite songs. Bet I can surprise you with my taste.”

Max opens his own music app. “Challenge accepted.”

You play an indie track that has become your recent favorite. Max listens thoughtfully, “Never pegged you for an indie fan.”

You shrug, “Life’s full of surprises. Your turn.”

He selects a familiar classic rock track that makes you grin. “Bohemian Rhapsody? Really?”

He smirks, “Told you, surprises.”

“I’m mostly just surprised it’s not 33 Max Verstappen,” you tease.

As the afternoon stretches on, the music transitions to shared stories. You talk about your childhood, the early days of karting, the struggles, and triumphs. He shares his own tales, moments that shaped him, the highs and lows of his journey.

“Remember our first race as teammates?” He asks, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You laugh, “How could I forget? You almost ran me off the track.”

He chuckles, “Defensive driving. But you held your ground. Earned my respect that day.”

“And you earned mine,” you reminisce. “Not just as a driver but as a person.”

The atmosphere shifts, the mood turning contemplative. The stories become more personal, more intimate. You share your fears, dreams, and hopes. The raw honesty of the moment creates a bridge, a connection neither of you realized was missing.

Max looks at you, his gaze intense. “You know, despite all the teasing from the others, the setups, and the jokes, I never stopped to really see ... us.”

You nod, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I’ve been so focused on the track, on our partnership as teammates, that I never paused to consider the possibility of ... something more.”

He reaches out to gently take your hand, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. “Maybe it’s time we did.”

You look into his eyes, seeing your own emotions reflected back, and smile. “Maybe it is.”

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you both step onto the podium. The last race had been intense, with both of you claiming the top spots. Max, in first, and you, a close second. The excitement is contagious, the air electric.

Max turns to you, the gleam of victory in his eyes mirrored by another emotion that has been growing since that rainy day. Without another word, he pulls you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like a victory all on its own.

The crowd goes wild, cheering and whistling. But what draws your attention as you pull away, breathless, is the reaction of the grid below.

Lando jumps up, punching the air. “Yes!”

Charles grins, clapping his hands together. “Told you it’d happen on the podium!”

Daniel, laughing, shouts, “Pay up, everyone! I had this race in the betting pool.”

Confused, you turn to Max, who shrugs, just as out of the loop.

Later, as the celebrations continue, Pierre pulls you both aside, showing a clip on his phone. It’s a video from a few months ago, all the drivers and Christian huddled together, placing bets on a whiteboard labeled When Will Max and Y/N Finally Stop Being Blind?

You laugh, watching the clip. “Of course you all managed to turn our love life into a game.”

Max wraps an arm around you. “Well, they do say racing is all about strategy and timing.”

Lando approaches with a pout. “You couldn’t wait a bit longer? I was two races off.”

Daniel, counting his winnings, smirks. “Better luck next time.”

Christian shakes his head with a laugh but pulls both of you in for a hug. “Never thought I’d be so happy to lose 50 quid. Congrats, you two.”

Surrounded by the people who spent most of the season trying to make this happen, you realize that love, like racing, has its own unpredictable course. Because sometimes, the best races aren’t on the track. They’re the ones that lead to unexpected, beautiful destinations.

2K notes · View notes

fangirl-dot-com · 1 month

Text

Chapter 30 - Vettel Reincarnate

final gp y'all - I might cry..

Shoutout to that one reader who was asking about secret santa - this one is for you darling!

Not going to do a giant speech - you all will know when the last chapter comes out because I'm going to do a farewell little post before the chapter goes live ☺️

Please enjoy!

A red Santa hat sat on your head as you stood in front of some cameras. Your grin was wide as your hands held three neatly wrapped presents. Secret Santa had finally graced the paddock and you could tell that the air felt lighter. Or maybe it was a bit hot in the oversized Santa suit that you were in.

Max had already won the championship this year, so there wasn’t any bad air between two drivers. You and Charles were very close, but it wasn’t a fierce rivalry as the press seemed to make it. One stink eye to him and apparently you hated the Monegasque with every fiber of your being. And the pictures of the two of you at family dinner? The two of you were secretly conspiring against the other the entire time.

Jemma, as you learned the lady’s name, was walking over.

“Are you ready to start?” she asked, looking over the cameras one more time.

You flashed her another smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The cameraman gave you the signal, letting you know that it was rolling. You took a deep breath before you started.

“Hi everyone, and welcome to the 2024 Grid Secret Santa.”

You paused as you looked down at the presents.

“I guess I’ll start then?”

The crew chuckled around you as you set two down on the little table. You were saving the biggest one for last.

The first present was a medium box. You carefully unwrapped it, making sure not to tear the paper. You giggled as you went slowly.

“Max hated it when I would not just rip and tear last year at Christmas. I wanted to save the wrapping paper.”

Laughter erupted from the crew around you, making your smile grow wider. You were a sucker for people laughing at you trying to be funny.

You finally got the last of the paper off.

“Props to whoever wrapped these. It’s very well done.”

You opened the box and immediately started laughing. The small crowd was questioning what was in the box. You pulled the item out, which earned more laughs.

In your hand was yet another pair of Lightning McQueen with Charles’s signature on them. You gave the camera a look.

“This is like the third pair that I have currently. Arthur got me a pair last year with Charles’s signature on them as well.”

Jemma questioned, “Do you have any guesses?”

You thought for a moment.

“It cannot be Lando, he does not wrap gifts this well.”

“I heard that!”

Your head whipped around to see the McLaren driver walking by with Jon. You raised your hand in a wave.

“It’s true though!”

You turned your attention back to the camera. The smaller box was in your hand. You quickly opened it up and let out a small gasp. Your fingers gently picked up a charm bracelet and you held it up for the camera.

“What’s on it?”

You smiled as you looked at all the charms.

“So there’s an Italian flag, some maracas, and some dice – I’m thinking that these are for my wins – Monza, Mexico, and Las Vegas. Then there’s a little Formula 1 car, oh, is that a tiny can of Red Bull?”

You held the bracelet to your face.

“It is! That’s so cute. Ok, so then there’s an 8 and then a 9, probably for my number. There’s a camera, a football, a longhorn. Oh, ok, I definitely know who this is from.”

You positioned the little charm toward the camera.

“It’s a little chili.”

Your eyes welled up at the thoughtful gift.

“You know who your secret Santa is then?”

“I’ll wait to say until I open the last present. You said there’s a card in there right?”

“Correct.”

You quickly picked up the last big box. This time, the box was already decorated so you didn’t need to unwrap it carefully. You threw your head back with laughter once you saw what was in the box.

Your hands grabbed it and held it to the camera. A giant blanket was on display. On said blanket was a giant Max Verstappen in all his glory. You put it around your shoulders.

“This is just beautiful.”

You spun around, showing the blanket off. A familiar laugh erupted from behind the camera.

“Did you put him up to this?”

Max looked as though he got caught before he smirked.

“I-I can neither confirm nor deny,” he managed to get out between the laughs.

You pulled the blanket around you, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric. By now, a lot of the guys were watching.

Jemma reigned everyone back in.

“Ok, do you want to say who you think it is?”

You smirked.

“It’s Carlos.”

The Spaniard flashed you a giant grin. You walked up to the Ferrari driver and gave him a hug.

“Did Charles tell you that I already had a pair of the Crocs?”

You felt his head shake and you huffed.

“Charles!”

“That is my cue to leave. I’ll see you all on track.”

A flash of red quickly passed by your face.

“Yeah, you better run!”

Everyone laughed as you gathered your things. However, you wanted to stay for the next person, since it was the person whose name you drew.

You watched as Lando stared with wide eyes at the giant crate that was put down before him. And then you silently laughed as the man also put a smaller box on top.

Carlos leaned down and whispered, “You don’t have anything to do with this chica?”

You whispered back, “I have no clue what you are talking about.”

Your shoulders started to shake as you watched the Briton open the crate. He huffed as he looked down.

“What is it Lando?” Jemma asked.

The McLaren driver pulled out one singular fruit.

“It’s a crate full of papayas. This was definitely not in the budget. How the hell does someone just get a full crate of papayas?”

“What’s in the smaller box?”

Lando pulled out a singular piece of paper.

He read it, “One free drive in any one of my cars and two admissions into any country clubs I want for a full week.”

You watched as a look of realization crossed his face. A warm smile grew as he looked right at you.

“This is Y/n. I know it.”

“Correct.”

“Why in the hell did you get me a crate of papayas?”

You shrugged behind the camera.

“Because you always complain that I call the McLaren color orange.”

Lando rolled his eyes but waved the makeshift coupon.

“I will be driving your Apollo though.”

You pretended to grimace. However, it turned into a smile. You knew that he was going to pick that car, so you didn’t even try to stop him by writing ‘any car except the apollo.’ He would have whined and whined until you let him do it anyway. You watched as they rolled the crate away, signaling that they were done filming in this area.

“Did you read the card chica?” Carlos asked as he walked you back to your garage.

You pulled the piece of paper from your pocket.

It read:

Dear Chica,

When I heard that Checo was retiring, I was kind of hoping that I might have been able to get the Red Bull seat back. I knew that Ferrari would change things for 2025, and I knew that you were on their radar. (Also, Charles can’t keep a secret.)

You giggled but kept reading.

However, seeing you grow on the track this year made me realize how special you truly are. No one is lying when they say that you will be World Champion one day. I hope that I’m still on the grid to see it.

No one knows, but I will be returning to the grid in 2025 for Audi. (Please keep it a secret unlike Charles – I didn’t tell him because then he would tell Pierre and Max, who would then tell the entire grid.)

If you ever need to come eat spicy food, I’ll have the guest house ready for you in Spain. We’ll go to the beach and tan while Max and Charles burn like lobsters. Maybe this time I’ll be willing to play mermaids with you.

You’re going to go far Chica. Keep driving fast and with your heart. It only goes up from here.

Love,

Carlos

Your eyes were watering by the time that you finished reading. You turned and put your head on Carlos’s chest as his arms wrapped around you. Sniffled escaped as you squeezed into the hug.

“You know, the press is going to think that I’m not conspiring with you on how to take Charles out of the race.”

You felt Carlos shake as he laughed. You bid your goodbyes as you headed back to your garage. You quickly placed your gifts in your driver’s room before changing from the Santa suit into your fireproofs and race suit. Since you had only let a rookie drive your car once, you and Max were able to just hang out during FP1.

“Ok, so who did you get and what did you give? And what did you get from who?”

Max sighed, a smile on his face.

“So, I picked Charles.”

“Oh no.”

Max’s smile turned into a smirk.

“So I got him one of those Inchident shirts from Etsy or wherever. And then I signed the shirt and said it was for my biggest fan.”

The Dutchman smiled as he heard your giggles.

“And then I just got him a gift card to some restaurant back home. But he said he’s going to wear the shirt next time we play paddle. He said something about creating an Inchident 2.0.”

“And who got you?”

“Logan. The kid did well.”

“Yeah?”

Max jerked his head behind him. “He got me three cheesecakes from The Cheesecake Factory and then a football. He also got me a book of dad jokes, saying that since I call you kid, I need to up my dad-joke game.”

Your eyes landed on the three boxes, the book, and the brown, egg-shaped ball.

“Can I have some cheesecake after the race.”

“No.”

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing max didn't get the memo? at least y/n can bring him everywhere now!

liked by y/n.89, landonorris, carlossainz55, and 4,204,981 others

y/n.nation the video was so cuteeeeee - I was so happy when Carlos picked her! And Max totally understood the assignment with Charles's gift

formulala_delulu the gifts this year was top tier! glad Charles didn't gift another calendar

maxverstappen1 I guess you're stuck with me kid

landonorris will you finally share this blanket?

y/n.89 maybe - depends on how I'm feeling.

charles_lecerlc when you get to an inchident competition but your opponent is a 27 year old Dutchman who can't let go of the past 👊😔

maxverstappen1 I mean...I'll take the shirt back then

charles_leclerc TOO BAD I'M ALREADY WEARING IT - GET YOUR OWN

y/n.89 chill shawty, no one wants the shirt anyway

box_box_express stoooppp I'm going to miss this grid!

y/n&co y/n is going to win - mark my words!

On Sunday, you were practically vibrating. Only a few points separated you and Charles. You needed to score higher than a P3 and needed fastest lap.

However, Charles only needed a P3 and fastest lap to come out in second place. Qualifying was not in your favor as you were starting P9. Max and Charles vacated the first row. Standing by your car, they seemed so far away.

Yet, as you sat in the seat, going over a few more details, you knew you could do it.

“Final radio check kid for 2024.”

“Mitch, I think it’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“An overtake masterclass.”

“Right. Any song requests for the end?”

You sighed as you looked around you. You knew that people were wanting a song from you, as you did after ever season closer. But this time, you really didn’t have a song that fit well.

“Not this time Mitch.”

“Ok. Lights out in 15 seconds.”

You turned the radio off for the remainder of the time. You basked in the silence, finally welcoming it to think.

The formation lap went well and no one ran into the barriers, letting everyone be able to line up to go.

You watched as the lights started to count down.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the final time in 2024!”

Your foot hit the throttle and off you went. Like always, your car felt alive.

Woman and machine as one.

“Now, Y/n L/n has to make her way back up to P3 while also trying to go for the fastest lap to be able to win the second place of the driver’s championship. We talked to her earlier and she said that she would be trying her hardest to also possibly get one more win for this season to complete her glorious rookie campaign.”

“Yes, David, she has had the best rookie season since Lewis Hamilton. Even if she doesn’t win this race, she has blown his point record out of the water. She would tie him with wins during a rookie year, but she wouldn’t beat his place holder of second in the driver’s championship.”

“And there she goes around the outside, getting by Oscar Piastri.”

“Another overtake for L/n as she gets out ahead of Carlos Sainz in turn 3.”

“It’s a double pass for the rookie on the straight. She is now in P5 as she gets around both Mercedes going into turn 1.”

“I don’t know what classes she is taking, but this is a advanced one as she now overtakes Lando Norris.”

“It’s P3 for L/n in 23 laps. Incredible! Truly an Overtake Master Class.”

Your voice shook as you came on the radio.

“I need to box. Something is wrong with the left tyre.”

You had only been able to scrap back up to P3 when something felt off.

Mitch responded quickly. “If you pit, this is the only one you get. Can you get to the end?”

You knew that the one stop strategy might not work the best with the car for this circuit. You sighed, mulling over your options.

If you did mediums, the tyre degradation might be too severe to even be on the podium. But, the hards would take forever to warm up.

“Box, box.”

“Looks like L/n is boxing early. Is Red Bull undercutting their team?”

“What the hell is wrong?” Max voiced over his radio. Where they undercutting him?

GP responded. “Something wrong with her front tyre. The nuts weren’t in enough and she would have had a major accident if we hadn’t boxed her. She will come out in P2, so you will hold the position.”

The Dutchman sighed in relief. You’d be safer if they did undercut him.

“Ok.”

“Copy Max. Let’s just try to bring it home.”

With the early pit stop and a fresh set of hard tyres, you were back out in P2, just able to get by Charles.

The rest of the race, you sat back and fought as hard as you could. Only 30 more laps to go. When your tyres finally heated up, you were slowly gaining on Max. Before he or you knew it, you were now fighting for first place.

“Ok, Max, it’s a free for all. Just don’t take each other out please.”

“Copy GP.”

“Y/n, we’re letting you and Max fight it out. He is not pitting again. Keep it safe and bring it home.”

“Who has fastest lap currently?”

“Leclerc.”

“Shit. Ok. What should I go for Mitch?”

“What matters most to you?”

An answer from your radio never came.

“L/n and Verstappen have been given the green flag to just race. We are seeing two of the best of this generation fight it out at the last circuit.”

“And that is a lock up from Verstappen! Does he get the lead back? Yes he does. He maintains the lead in front of his teammate.”

“L/n is going to try to go around the outside, and she gets the lead going into turn 4, but loses it coming out of it.”

“The rookie and the World Champion, what a duo these two have been.”

“Fastest lap?”

“You currently have it.”

“Right on.”

“And we are down to the final lap of the race. Will L/n be able to get a lead on her teammate and be able to keep it? That is what it is down to. We have seen these two brilliant drivers dance with each other, but L/n has not been able to keep a lead going out of a turn.”

“You know who she reminds me of David? Sebastian Vettel. It’s the hunger and the passion for the sport.”

“I absolutely agree with you. Vettel was a four time world champion. If she is anything like him, she will be world champion before we know it. Her driving style is so close to his, it’s like see him back in his Red Bull glory days. Truly unbelievable.”

“MAX VERSTAPPEN GOES WIDE AND THROUGH GOES L/N TAKING THE LEAD AND SHE IS RUNNING WITH IT!”

“L/N WINS HER FOURTH RACE OF THE SEASON IN ABU DHABI. Ending a perfect rookie year on a high!”

You sighed as you crossed the line in P1.

“Fastest lap Mitch?”

Please, oh please.

“Sorry kid. Leclerc got you in the last sector.”

A frown wanted to grow on your face, yet you didn’t let it. You were a three time race winner and you wouldn’t let that be ruined. Your head turned as you saw Max pull up near you. You gave him a wave that was reciprocated.

You watched as his finger went in a little circle and you nodded in agreement. A red car was now in your mirrors. You stuck your hand out the halo to give Charles the signal that the Dutchman gave you to. You saw as he stuck a thumbs up as well.

Once the cars were in position, you took the lead for the burnouts. Laughter erupted from your throat as you spun your car. Above, fireworks went off in the sky. As your burn out ended, you pulled into the P1 spot.

You quickly got out of the car and fell on your knees. Your helmet lowered to the ground as you put your hands on the tyres in a mock bow. You leaned back and just sat for a moment. Your visor was still down as you took it all in. You hit the pavement before getting back on your feet.

Yet, it didn’t take long for Max to barrel into you. You almost fell over, but he kept you up. You were starting to jump up and down in excitement.

“You did so well Geitje! So fucking proud of you. That was such good racing!”

“I thought you had me! Like we were all vroom, and then you locked up, but kept it, and then I was all like ‘Waahhhhh’, and I saw you went wide and I was like, I’m going to get him,” you kept rambling to him as the two of you got weighed and then went to get interviewed. You stopped Charles on his way, though, when he passed to go to the cool down room.

“Charlie! I thought I had you!”

A laugh escaped the Monegasque as he brought you in for a hug. You just leaned into him and sighed in content. You felt Charles put his head down against yours. His hands were tightly wound around your shoulders while yours were around his waist.

“You did good Gosse, you did good. I am so proud of you.”

You pouted against him. “But I couldn’t get second.”

Charles removed you and put you at arm’s length.

“Y/n, you cannot even begin to fathom what you’ve done this season. As a rookie, you have beaten a four-time world champion. You’ve beaten Ferrari. You’ve beaten everyone’s expectations. You’ve done it all, and that should be something to be proud of. And if you’re worried about a placing, you just confirmed that Red Bull won the constructors championship.”

Your eyes lit up by that, and you brought Charles back into a quick hug before going to the interview. A smile grew on your face as you saw Arthur standing with a very sweet smile of his own. The younger Monegasque loved to see you getting along with his brother. It was only solidifying that he made the right choice with you.

He watched you walk up to him as you took a microphone.

“Y/n, that was some racing! Starting from all the way from P9 and making your way up to a race win. How are you feeling?”

You exhaled before answering.

“Well, you know, it was exhilarating. I would have been happy with P3, but then my left tyre wasn’t doing too well, so I had to box early. I think that’s what was able to position me just right to get a placement on Max.”

Arthur smiled. “So, in terms of a rookie year, you have had one of the best campaigns since Lewis Hamilton. How do you feel to know that you have broken so many records?”

“Well Arthur, it feels great. I just really wanted to prove that I could do this and show people that Red Bull made the right choice with me.”

“One last thing. I was hearing Crofty on the livestream and he was making some connections between you and Sebastian Vettel. I’ve also seen many videos calling you a Vettel Reincarnate. Thoughts on that?”

Your eyebrows pinched.

“Well, Seb isn’t dead, so I don’t know how I could be his reincarnation.”

The two of you laughed at that.

“But I am honored to be compared to one of the greats. I know that people always compare drivers, but I really am proud to know Sebastian personally and to be great at driving to the point that people want to say that I remind them of him.”

The interview was wrapped up after that. Since you took a little more time, you weren’t able to get to the cool down room. Thankfully, Max had a water bottle or two for you when you got to the podium.

You guzzled one down as you watched Charles and Max walk out. You were able to follow them, but someone tapped you on the back. It was a man holding your nation’s flag.

“I know that this celebration is normally reserved for World Champions, but we thought you’d like this.”

You took the flag without hesitation and wrapped it around your shoulders. You stood proud with it as your anthem rang out.

The two male drivers watched as you hummed along to the anthem, swaying back and forth. The flag almost fell as you raised the trophy, yet, you held the trophy with one hand and then flag in your other.

As Charles and Max were spraying you with champagne, your mind began to wander. You’d be on this top step at some point. But that time, it would be as world champion.

The champagne seemed to freeze in the air as you took everything in. You finally felt as though you could breathe easy. You had made it. You had a contract renewal coming way before your contract would even expire. You had your family here with you.

Everything was perfect.

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing rookie and champ - logging out one last time 💙

liked by arthur_leclerc, y/n.89, maxverstappen1, formula_fan, and 5,210,756 others

y/n.nation SO THAT'S IT???? WHY AM I CRYING 😭

box_box_express thankful to have been here since the beginning. y/n deserves everything that she has done and more

y/n.89 FANS ARE CRYING - I'M CRYING - WHY IS THIS ENDING???

maxverstappen1 there's next season? 🤨

y/n.89 OH YEAHHHHHHHH

maxverstappen1 this kid I swear

formula1_4ever this season was phenomenal - the amount of racing that we got to see and multiple drivers winning, I'd go back to rewatch it all again

wholesomef1 tell me why this season is going to go down in history

rookie&co while I'm sad for winter break - I'm gearing up for next year!

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 wow, there were just so many moments this season that had me in a loop, so - here are some pictures from my favorites album 1. the first time I truly witnesses Lestappen in all it's glory 2. me and thur when he visited my apartment in the UK 3. for the Charlie girlies - looking ethereal in Vegas 4. my first podium in Abu Dhabi!! 5. for the Oscar girlies - (he was looking at lando) 6. Lewis and my son 7. Logan when he had to come find me after getting lost in the trains 8. my parents trying raising canes for the first time 9. this glorious picture of me from VEGAS 10. my boyfriend looking SCRUMDILLYICIOUS (hard launch who?) 11. George in Mexico after I gave him a sombrero 12. Lando wanting to punch me after I gave him a crate of papayas

thank you 2024 season - you will be one I never forget!!

liked by oscarpiastri, y/n.nation, formula1fan, rookie&co, and 2,049,148 others

y/n.nation this was so sweet 🥺

landonorris did me dirty bug

y/n.89 it's what you get

lewishamilton your son? 🤨

y/n.89 yes, my son

maxverstappen1 when did you take the first picture??

y/n.89 vegas 2023 - you look so in love maximillian

charles_leclerc awwww you do 🥰

maxverstappen1 gag.

box_box_express stop stop stop all of these are so cute

fanof_1681 Charles/Oscar girlies we rise

alex_albon why that picture?? I know you had like 5 others

y/n.89 cause lily looked the best in that one - duh

rookie&co I guess this means I have to change my username :(

formulala_delulu oh to just go back in time and rewatch the entire season again for the first time

It took a while to get back to your drivers room. You took just a minute to just feel. Feel the trophy, feel the champagne in your suit, feel the emotions. You didn't bother to sit on the little bed, so you were on the floor leaning against the couch.

You let your mind wander.

In reality, you were thankful for your past. Arthur, Vito, Stella back at Dams, maybe even your parents. It’s because they all pushed you to be the best.

But you’d continue to show them how truly great you were. You’d put your name in the hall of fame if it was the last thing you did.

As you looked at the pictures in your room, your eyes landed on one., You were bunched in with Max, Charles, and Mitch at Vegas. Just looking at it gave you shivers as you thought of what was to come. However, right now, you could only wait for the future. A future full of championships and families. Deep down, you second guessed yourself, wondering if it ever would come true.

But it’d come true. You knew it would.

World Champion.

Because, for all it is, it's just wishful thinking.

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

776 notes · View notes

leah-lover · 14 days

Text

Crossover. Leah Williamson x reader.

Based off this request. Thank you.

Exiting, that's how you would describe your life as a model. Yes there were the occasional hiccups but you mostly got to do very cool stuff and hang out with cool people. Your work took you everywhere but your home base was London. You started your career there and a large number of your followers come from there too.

The thing you loved the most about your job was the parties. They allow you to meet very interesting people, pick their brain and develop interesting g friendships.

Today was no different. Nike had a pretty high budget launch party for their new show line and you were invited. These parties were a little less formal than what you were used to going to, so you decided against a suit or a dress and settled for a black strapless and backless jumpsuit, a pair of black heels and some gold accessories. Your make up was elegant and your signature red lip was at its center.

Nike as always sent you a car to your house and you headed to the location of the event on time.

Upon arriving there you said hi to some people, talked to others, took some pictures at the event with some guests and drank champagne. The night was as regular as most of most launch parties were. Suddenly you were approached by one of the managers of the event.

“ Hey, so I wanted to introduce you to one of the faces of this launch. Miss Leah Williamson.” he says.

“ hi, nice to meet you, Miss williamson.” you say offering her your hand.

“ Hey, just Leah please.” she answers, shaking your hand

.” a fellow Brit I see. I haven't seen many of those tonight.”

“ glad i was among the few.” she answers. You two talked for a little while over a small table, each one of you nursing a drink. You both were making jokes trying to get one another to laugh or at least smile. There was definitely tension in the air and you both were flirtatious with one another.

“So Leah this has been one of the best nights I have had for a while. Thank you “ you say, squeezing her hand gently.

“Yeah it was fun for me too.” she responds with a disappointed tone. “Let me walk you to your car.”

While leaving the venue you hear a photographer say “ Miss Williamson would you like a picture?”. She looks over to you and you get into your usual pose instantly. While getting ready her hand slips perfectly on the small of your back applying the right amount of pressure.

While the photographer's flash was blinding you, you looked over to Leah and she did the same to you. You stood there getting your picture taken with a hot blonde after flirting with her all night. She made you feel safe with her hand on your back which you appreciated.She then walls you too you car.

“Tonight was fun.” You say leaning on the door.

“We should do this again sometime soon.” She replies with a small smile on her face.

“House about you come to one of our games. We will play in the Emirates soon. I think it would be a good experience.” She added.

“ Maybe.” You respond before getting in your car.

This night was gonna be unforgettable.

—----------------

Fact forward a few weeks you were back in England after being in Milan, Paris, and Japan for work. Well there first two were work , the last one was for fun since the F1 Japan grand prix was one of your favorites on the race calendar. You could say that that weekend was well spent. You hung out on the Ferrari paddock and did a lot of social media work. This work backfired on you because all people were talking about the whole weekend we're done moment that happened between you and a driver. Romers never bothered you, now it was different. Leah had followed you on Instagram after the event and you worried that she would believe them. As a result you decided to go to the arsenal game she talked about. Getting tickets was a Hassle because they were all sold out. But you managed to find a seat right next to the bench, very close to the field.

You showed up to the Stadium early. You hair was down, your makeup was simple, you wore jeans, a black button down and a Jersey over it, one that says Leah Williamson on the back, and you added a few gold accessories again.

Like Leah said the atmosphere was electric. You went to the VIP section first, got some food and a drink then you headed down to your seat. Leah didn't know you were coming; you wanted it to stay a surprise.

As soon as the players appeared on the pitch the whole strain erupted into cheers and chants. Those cheers only got louder when Arsenal scored 3 goals in 20 minutes which you were told was impressive.

After the half time break some players were running up and down the field. That's when she saw you. She held eye contact with you for a long time, a wide smile planted across her face. She had a look of pride, joy, and reassurance. You smiled back at her, clapped as she came on and sang and chanted loudly.

After the game was done the players were doing a lap around the pitch and when she saw you again. Another wide smile was painted on her face. She looked happy to be there and happy that you were there too.

She was then signing autographs, taking pictures and genuinely talking to people. She grew immensely in your eyes because of her thankful and humble demeanor. She then asked for you to follow her inside the stadium which you did.

“You clean up nice. I like your shirt “ she said with a cocky expression on her face.

“Well I saw a charming young lady at an event a few weeks ago and she hadn't left my mind ever since. I missed her and I thought I would come and see her. Turns out she is the best person in the world.” You respond.

“ Well I hope this girl gets to go have dinner with you because you two sound formidable.” She added

“ Maybe.” You respond

You wait for her to get ready and get out of the locker room. When she gets out, a few girls follow her and appear to be teasing her.

“ I swear if I hear from anyone you shit heads you won't like practice anymore.” She said to them. You simply wave to them as you two walk by then to Leah's car too which she opens the door.

“ Such a gentleman.” You exclaim.

“Well I have competition. That girl you were talking about is a catch.” She joked.

Leah was fun. She made you feel at ease and safe.

This was going to be a fun adventure.

#leah williamson #leah × reader #leah williamson imagine #woso request #woso couples #woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #woso community #woso x reader

476 notes · View notes

rukunas · 1 year

Text

angsty?? deku sucks here (sorry don’t kill me)

“So?” His hands clasp together, steepled in anticipation. “What did that extra get you? Flowers? Chocolates?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on.” Dynamight smirks. “I need to know so I can get my girl something better.”

You scoff as you place the bouquet of fresh red roses in a vase on his desk, courtesy of his new model girlfriend. The note, marked with a perfect lipstick stain, taunts you. “Is it a competition?”

“When it’s with Deku?” Dynamight flashes his canines. “Yes.”

“You’ll win either way. I wasn’t lying. He didn’t get me anything.” You do your best to keep the vitriol out of your voice, but there’s still a sharpness hidden in your tone.

Bakugo catches it, smile disappearing and his brows pinching together in an uncharacteristic concerned frown. “Oh… That case from the Commission is probably kicking his ass right now.”

“Yeah.” You shrug stiffly. “Enjoy the flowers.”

You feel like a bitch. Dynamight is right— you’ve seen how much Izuku has been working, spending late nights at his office, traveling abroad, meeting with some big officials in the government. You even told him to not worry for Valentine’s Day.

So, why were you mad? You had no right. And yet, you thought…

Buzz.

Your phone: Sorry baby, will make it back late 2nite :(( Don’t wait up on me

Well. It didn’t matter what you thought.

The day seems everlasting, annoyingly so. You would know— having to watch each of your coworkers get their own little presents and cards throughout the day. It would be just as bad if you went home and swiped through your phone all day, watching couple after couple post about their date plans. Fuck it, you’ll just stay back in the office and work ahead, it’s not like you have anything else to do.

“The fuck are you still doing here?” A gruff voice echoes from the hall.

“Why are you here?” You shot back, eyeing the hero who leans against your door frame. You recall when you first started working for Bakugo as his assistant, nervous to even look at him in the eye. Now, you openly glare at him. “Your date is at 8. It was hard as hell to get that reservation, you better not waste it.”

“She’s busy, said it in the note. Where’s your date?”

“He’s busy.”

He hums lowly before looking away, staring at the clutter on your desk. Precious hero figurines that you’ve been collecting for years are propped up in poses, along with a picture of you and Izuku. It was from so long ago, you barely remember the memory.

“Would you—” He starts.

“Can I—”

Silence takes over as the two of you interrupt one another.

“Sorry. You go.” You gesture at him to continue.

“Come with me. For dinner.”

“Me?”

Maybe it’s an illusion, but you swear the tips of his ear go pink. “You said it yourself. I can’t miss that reservation. And you said you don’t have plans…”

“Okay.”

“Seriously?” He sounds surprised. It makes your lips curl upward, followed by a breathless laugh.

“Why would I say no to free dinner?”

“I never said I was paying.”

“Oh, shut up, Katsuki.” It was not an illusion, you conclude, watching as his cheeks turn the same color pink as his ears. It takes you a moment to realize you said his given name.

“Alright. I’ll start the car.” He turns to walk out. “Check your desk before you go.”

“Huh?” Too late— he’s disappeared around the corridor.

Suspiciously, you scan your desk. Maybe he left some form that needed your signature? A PR proposal? But nothing seems to be out of order…

Wait. You pause, breath catching as you find the one thing that definitely was not there before. The Limited Edition All-Might Golden Figurine—the figure that was one of the ten ever made, and one that you’ve always dreamt of getting your hands on— stands boldly at your desk. You don’t know how you missed it, not knowing when it was placed there. You feel warmth bloom at your chest, knowing the one person who’d given it to you.

With hands still shaking in excitement and awe, you send out a text: I love you and I love the gift! Thanks baby!!

You find yourself grinning from ear to ear as you pack your things into your bag and put on your jacket. As you do so, your phone buzzes. A happy sigh flutters from your lips as you rummage through your purse to grab it. You knew he’d get you something! He wouldn’t have forgotten Valentine’s Day! And he’s gotten you the best gift you have ever gotten—

?? What gift?

You roll your eyes at his faux cluelessness, moving to take a picture of the figurine. But, as you do, you catch the note stuck to the bottom of it.

The handwriting isn’t Izuku’s. Though, you recognize it immediately.

Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope I won.

#incoming tag spam #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo angst #katsuki bakugou #katsuki #bakugo #mha #mha bakugo

6K notes · View notes

k-hotchoisan · 8 months

Text

In my head (San x fem!reader)

HERE I GIVE U SOME AMBIENCE:

Synopsis:in my head, I see you all over me; in my head, you fulfill my fantasies.

San has the fattest crush on you—and it heightens even more when you mentioned offhandedly that you’d fuck him.

A/n: thanks Jason Derulo. horny ass song 💥😐

Enjoy this Drabble while I work on the final chapter of How to be a Heartbreaker ❤️

Word count: 4.9K

Genre/warnings: straight up smut, gonna do my best for some sexual tension, drinking but no drunk sex because both are sober enough to consent, creaming, multiple orgasms, choking, light choking (san gets choked ❤️), riding, unprotected sex

Choi San doesn’t know when or how it started, but something definitely clicked in him—the butterflies abdomen, the way his words stop at his throat when the smell of your shampoo hits him, and the way his stomach turns when your gaze catches his. He catches himself drifting off to the thoughts of him being with you, and sometimes—even fucking you. But of course he would never say that, not when you’re constantly playing around with him from time to time, just to get a rise out of him.

“San”, you call out, snapping the male from his daydreams. He turns and gives you his attention. You tilt your head at him and he immediately starts wondering how your neck would be like littered with hickeys from him, or how you’d look like with his hands around your throat. “Pass me the notes. I need to hand it over to Wooyoung”, you ask. He quickly bunches the bunch of papers into your hands and you hold his stare for little longer before turning around to Wooyoung.

And then San’s eyes happen to land on your ass as you turned around—perked up as you reached over to where Wooyoung was—ass right up in San’s face. His mind immediately wanders to just bending you over and fucking you senseless at this point, and the thought of it just hardens his cock beneath his jeans. He doesn’t know why he can’t stop thinking about it but he’s not complaining.

But as he’s sucked in his own imaginations, he hears you squeal and you fall, landing right into Wooyoung’s lap. Wooyoung laughs, holding you by your arms as you tried to steady yourself. Something pricks in San, and he gets slightly annoyed, as he sees you giggling on Wooyoung’s lap.

Wooyoung moves closer to your ear and whispers, “aren’t you doing a little too much? San’s a pretty possessive guy.” You pull away from him and smile innocently. “It’s fine. It’s fun to poke him a little. He can’t do much since we aren’t together anyways.” Wooyoung raises an eyebrow. He’s A LOT touchier compared to San, but when he glances over to San, San’s already burning a hole behind your head with his stare. Wooyoung only scoffs at how gullible San is, and decides to push you away so you stay properly seated before San actually loses his shit.

You sighed as you plop back to your position beside San. Your gaze meets his and he cuts it immediately, you see red creeping up his neck and cheeks. You couldn’t help but surprise a smirk. You tuck your hair behind your ears and hum as you sink back into whatever you were reading.

Thursday rolls around and you’re window shopping for clothes on your phone. You feel a tap on your shoulder and Wooyoung appears behind you, with his signature smile. “Hey”, you greet, leaning to his side to give him a quick hug which he reciprocates. The both of you began getting absorbed into your own conversations.

San spots you in the crowd and was about to approach you for a meal, only to pause quickly the moment Wooyoung’s face comes into view, the both of you seemingly engrossed with talking to each other. San pouts slightly, deciding if he wants to approach you. But as your figure starts disappearing from view, San strengthens his resolve and walks over to the both of you.

“How are things with San?” Wooyoung asks. You tilt your head to face the raven-hair male. “He hasn’t been doing anything.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“No why the hell would I be?”

“‘Cause your mind seems pretty preoccupied with him recently.”

“That’s funny because that’s true. Fuck, he’s actually really cute. I’d love to be dicked down by him honestly.”

San’s world stops at that very moment and he stayed rooted behind you, his hand already stretched out to get your attention. His mind is thrown into a whirlwind upon hearing those words come right out of you mouth. Fuck. The way he wanted to just grab you and fuck you right at a corner. His mind was in a haze and he doesn’t realise until you vanished from his sight.

Wooyoung cocks an eyebrow at your straightforwardness. “Please never say that because I just threw up a little. San would fucking disintegrate if he heard that.” You laughed and shoved Wooyoung as the conversation drifts off to another topic.

The next few days for San were a blur. Every time you appeared before him, your words would echo in his head, and he would shift uncomfortably in his seat the moment his imagination of bending you over and fucking you senseless, and whatever positions he wanted to fuck you dumb in. His fantasies climbed from wanting to just taste your lips and feeling your skin to filthy and sexual pleasures. He wonders how long he could handle before he burst since fucking into his hand while imagining you sucking him off could only satisfy him so much. He sighs as he cleans himself up, another session leaving him relatively unsatisfied.

He exits his bathroom after a shower and snuggles in his bed as he unlocks his phone to check for messages. There was one from you—asking if he was going to Hongjoong’s party tomorrow. He replies with a “yeah of course” before staring at the chat, then closing the app. You and San really didn’t text very regularly, only conversations popping in and out.

He shuts his eyes, trying to trace back to when his heart started fluttering for you and it vaguely comes to him—it was probably the accumulation of constantly being around each other, the way you laughed at all his lame jokes and paid attention to him when his friends didn’t manage to hear him. Soon enough, he felt himself going soft whenever it came to you, and even his friends noticed.

And by the time he realised it himself, he was already head over heels. Every small movement you did around and towards him, he was fucking whipped for it, and he enjoyed showering you with acts of services and light flirting.

San sighs as he pulls the covers over himself, trying to falling asleep, with you being the last thing on his mind as he slowly drifted off.

You sat right on his pelvic area, smiling as you feel his cock harden beneath you. San groaned, unable to move his body as you grind down gently on his clothed cock. “Does it feel good, San?” you asked, barely hanging on, hungry on lust. “Please”, San cried out, buckling his hips to meet yours. You pulled your panties to the side, and your cunt is just dripping for him. San felt himself about to snap.

And his eyes flutter open. What the fuck. He glanced down at his boxers, now stained. A whole ass wet dream at this point was ridiculous. “Fuck me”, he groans, still half awake. It was already 11am by then, and he goes to wash up.

San arrives to the party with Wooyoung in the late afternoon. “What’s the occasion though?” San asks as he scans the room, particularly to look for you. He’s dressed up in a navy rugby shirt and khaki trousers, his hands hiding in his pockets.

“I think he just wanted to throw a private party to destress, like a mid semester party”, Wooyoung replies fitting his shades in his hair. “Oh damn, there’s y/n!”

San’s gaze immediately whips to where Wooyoung pointed at, which makes Wooyoung scoff in amusement.

Your eyes meet San and Wooyoung’s and your expression lightens up. San feels something stuck in his throat the moment he sees you all dolled up in a pretty dress. His mind starts to wander again, as his breath hitches.

“Hey you two,” you smile, giving the both of them a quick hug. And of course, the smell of your shampoo hits him and he’s ready to just melt into you. He wants to keep you in his arms and never let go.

“Hey. You look good, y/n”, San manages, unable to keep his eyes off you. You feel yourself grow shy, but you step closer to him, your body leaning into his, freezing him into place, and you return the compliment, “you’re looking really handsome, too.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “Am I interrupting something here?” He asks sarcastically, and you break into laughter, missing out at how red San was getting. You link your arms with Wooyoung and poke his cheeks, “aw don’t feel left out!” Wooyoung slaps your arm and you let go playfully.

“I’ll catch the both of you in a bit. I’m gonna find Hongjoong”, you say, waving at them before walking off.

“Fuck, she’s so cute”, San breathes the moment you leave the area.

“Fuck, you’re so whipped for her”, Wooyoung echoed. “I’m gonna get some drinks. You want any?” San then requests for a mock-tail, not really interested to get drunk so early. His eyes scan the room and he spots you with Hongjoong. The both of you were happily engaged in a conversation. Hongjoong’s eyes glance over to meet San’s and then back to yours, and then he leans in to whisper something to you, and pulls away as pink flushes your cheeks. San’s eyebrows furrow, unsure if it was from frustration or confusion. He suddenly wonders if he should have asked for an alcoholic drink instead.

Wooyoung comes back with drinks in his hand and passes his drink to San. San takes a sip and lets the fizzy drink dance on his tongue. He slips into conversation with Wooyoung as they find a comfy seat at a corner.

A few long minutes later, you walk over with Hongjoong. You glance at San and gesture him to make room for you, which confuses San for a moment but he isn’t about to let that opportunity of being physically close to you slip, especially not when the couch had barely enough space for the three of you. He scoots over as you plant your ass down beside him, your knees touching his.

Hongjoong suggests a small party game between the four of you and there was an unanimous agreement quickly.

“Loser has to take a shot”, Hongjoong states, pouring in an alcoholic mix into a shot glass and the punishment was set.

From time to time, your knee would bump into San’s and he was trying his best not to notice it. Then, your arms would brush against his shoulder. As Wooyoung lost the next round, you squealed in delight and laughter, leaning in more into San, your body pressing onto his, almost hugging him.

Your ass loses the next following round and you down the shot and bring the shot glass up to show its emptiness, and as you do, you fall too far behind and San catches you on instinct, his arm curling around your waist, face just inches away from yours. You hold the stare for a second before breaking into laughter, brushing your fingers gently on his lips. “I’m fine, San. The couch has a backing.”

San barely snaps out of it, almost just wanting to dive in and eat you up, but he holds himself back. He pushes you back upright and you thanked him with a light pinch on his cheek before settling the glass down and continuing the game.

A few more rounds pass, and San loses two rounds, he decides to clock out before he really does something stupid if he does get drunk. After the final shot, he leans back onto the couch, watching the three of you continue the game. You take his half-full drink and slip the straw the between your lips as you lean back with him, stealing sips of his drink. San doesn’t look too bother with you stealing his drink, he’s looking bothered that you’re sharing the same straw with him. You giggle as you glance into his silt eyes.

Fuck he really looks so good. Your fingers play around with the straw as you try to suppress the smile. His fingers go up and brush the corners of your lips. “You’ve got juice there. How the hell do you even manage that when you’re drinking off a straw?”

You shrug, leaning over to settle the cup onto the glass table. Your hand wanders to his thigh which sends electric shocks through San as you slap his thigh lightly. “You’re not playing already?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “no. I’m watching my alcohol intake. You know how lightweight I am, y/n.” You surprise a smile, rather impressed at his self-control. The alcohol was starting to hit a little, so you’ve been stealing sips of San’s drink to keep yourself sober. Both Wooyoung and Hongjoong weren’t pissed drunk, neither did they force any of you to down the shots when you couldn’t, which you definitely appreciate. Another slow shot you take, and you were laughing, pointing at Wooyoung, your body pressing down onto San’s lap, and another hand absentmindedly squeezing his thigh. It’s taking all of San’s self control not to just pounce at you at this point because he really wants to. He just wants to eat you up, feel up every part of your body, push you against the couch and just driving his dick in-

“Okay, I need the washroom”, you announce. “Too much drinks.” Hongjoong points, “second floor, to the right.” You thank him and walk off. The couch suddenly feels way too light, San thinks.

More minutes pass, Wooyoung and Hongjoong were getting pretty damn drunk. The game had already stopped since a long while ago, now Wooyoung talking to another guy and Hongjoong dancing with his peers. San starts worrying that you might have passed out in the toilet or something.

He leaves the couch and goes up the stairs, remembering Hongjoong’s directions to you. He reaches an unfamiliar door which he thinks it’s the toilet you’re in, and knocks.

No response. He knocks again.

“Y/n, are you in there? You’ve been gone for awhile.”

More silence follows. San starts feeling anxious at the prospect that something might have happened to you. He knocks again, and then adds, “I’m coming in.”

He pushes down onto the handle and to his shock, the toilet’s not locked. He pushes the door open and no one’s there. Panic turns into confusion, because what the fuck is going on?

“Sannie!” You squealed. He turns to your direction so quick that he doesn’t know how he doesn’t get whiplash from doing so. You stood a few meters from him, smiling. He notices the door behind you ajar.

“You…”, he trails off, trying to piece things together. “Oh right. I needed a bit of fresh air at the balcony. I asked permission from Hongjoong to use one of the guest rooms, because I needed to charge my phone and I fucking fell asleep on the bed. I just woke up like, ten minutes ago.”

San continues to stare at you, confusion still written all over his face. He thinks about how ridiculous this all sounds, and at the same time he doesn’t want to think—not when it’s just the both of you standing across each other. It was like god’s given chance.

You stretched, and take a breath, “I’m heading back in. I think everyone else is probably fucking drunk by this point. I’ll catch you later”, you wave, entering the guest room and closing the door behind you.

Only the door to be stopped by San. He steps into the room with you, engulfing you up with his gaze as he shuts the door behind him, and inches closer to you. His eyes are radiating with some sort of emotion—lust, desire, jealousy, anger? Oh my, did you play too much with your small touches when y’all were playing the game? That doesn’t intimidate you though, instead, it sparks some sort of playfulness you want to poke San with.

You ignore him and head for the bed, the sheets already creasing from your little nap, your shoes were kicked off near the balcony doors. San takes a deep breath, approaching you slowly, taking in your figure as you lie sideways, your dress hiking up all the way to your thigh as you were on your phone, connected to your cable. You turn your body, back on the sheets and your phone right above your head.

“Y/n”, San starts. Your eyes dart to him. “Yeah, San, what’s up?” You asked. “Are you gonna lie down or what? The bed’s really fucking comfy.”

He’s at a loss here. His mind is racing through so many of his thoughts and fantasies. And you were just there, inviting him in. His sanity is slowly thinning, and he just wants to eat you up right then and there. He walks over to the bed and sits near you, drinking in your features. His cock is hardening already.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You tease. He shakes his head, and you reply, “because you definitely have something on yours.” Before he could make sense of it, you grab his collar and pull him into a deep kiss, licking his bottom lip.

Ah, fuck. San’s head isn’t working. He was lured in by your kiss and he’s going haywire because he never thought that this day would come.

And he’s not letting it slip away that fucking easily. No. Not when he’s been fantasising about it for so many fucking weeks already.

His hands cup your cheeks as he steadied himself with another arm on the creased sheets. “Fuck, you taste so good Sannie”, you whisper, licking his bottom him. He feels his cock push against his trousers, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take. “It’s the fruit punch isn’t it?” You tease. San smiles in between kisses as he bites your bottom lip gently, earning a soft moan from you.

San breaks from the kiss shortly, as his gaze slides to your hiked dress. In his head, he’s already undressing you and it’s driving him fucking nuts. You cup his cheeks and squeeze. “Stop undressing me in your mind and undress me for real”, you say. He swallows as he slithers a hand underneath your dress, finding the fabric as his thumb hooks it, and tugs your panties down. San spots a trail of arousal connecting from your wet pussy to your stained underwear, and that drives him up the wall even more.

You lift your ass, then legs up to let the undergarment slide off smoothly. He drops it somewhere on the sheets, as he dives in for another hungry and messy kiss. You feel his erection pressing onto your thigh, and you whine softly.

“Fuck, y/n. You don’t know how you look right now. I don’t know how much more I can take,” San confesses, pushing his trousers down, his erection even more evident, pushing hard against his boxers.

You laugh. “I think I do. And I really want you right now.”

San litters your neck, shoulders and chest with kisses and love bites, the sensations producing moans and whimpers. His fingers travel down your sides, looking for the zipper, and he finds it, instantly pulling it down.

“Didn’t know you were the impatient type”, you tease, pulling up the dress over your head, your lace bra the only piece of article on you.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this”, San says, both hands creeping under your bra, giving both tits a squeeze. You gasp, feeling it in your pussy. He pushes the bra upwards, and sucks your nipple, the other finger fondling with the other nipple. Your fingers entangle with his locks as he licks you up hungrily, as you try to ground yourself as waves of pleasure slowly start to build.

He stops and leaves you panting. San straightens himself and his stares down at you, traces of doubt and uncertainty already faded as he pulls his shirt over his head, and you swallow hard as you stare at his bare, muscled body. The both of you are gonna drive each other crazy, that’s for fucking sure.

San pushes your legs open, his eyes drinking in the sight of your wet and leaking pussy, all for him. He leans in and starts eating you out. You cry out in pleasure the moment his tongue flicks up to your clit, grabbing his hair.

“You’re my good girl right?” He asks, his voice vibrating to your clit, making it more sensitive. “Yes, I am, Sannie”, you manage out.

He smiles and continues licking your wet cunt as if he hadn’t had a meal for the longest time. Every lick just made you even wetter as the knot in your stomach tightens. He soaks his fingers with his spit, then circles around your pussy, rubbing against your clit before plunging them in. Your body arches in bliss, your fingers tugging San’s hair as the other grips the sheets desperately.

“Fuck. San, you’re driving me insane”, you cry out. San kisses your cunt as he pumps his fingers into you.

“No. You’re the one who’s driving me insane”, he corrects you. He’s not wrong. He had so many fucking fantasies, countless amounts of just wanting to be in you.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He coos, rubbing your clit as he fucks you with your fingers. You nod. The pleasure was getting too much because the knot in your stomach was threatening to break.

“San, I’m cumming. Fuck it feels so good”, you cry out, eyes rolled back as your orgasm shakes your entire body, your legs shaking, and San not relenting as he continue to finger you and lick you clean through your orgasm. He fucking loved how your pussy is clenching around his fingers desperately and it only riles him up to quickly stuff you full with his cock.

He gets up, and licks your cum off his fingers, pushing them to your lips. You take them voluntarily, sucking on his fingers and your arousal. He smirks as he pulls his fingers out, to remove his boxers. His lengthy cock springs out, precum glistening on his red and angry tip.

“Look at you, covered in cum, looking fucked out just from my fingers. How are you gonna handle my dick then?” He throws, leaning in, stroking your overstimulated cunt with his leaking cock. You feel your pussy pulsate at the feeling of cock just inches away from you. You grab his face with both hands, pulling him closer. “Won’t know if we don’t try”, you muse, spreading your legs further, rubbing your cunt on his cock, meaning softly at the sensation. San takes another deep breath, and you see his invisible strings of rationale snapping one by one. God, it was so fucking fun to poke him. You don’t know how long he’s been like this, but it was probably a pretty fucking long time, looking at his reactions.

He pushes an inch and you wince from the pleasure. The last of his rationale barely hangs on as your wall clenches around him beautifully. Every inch he pushes in, he starts losing it, and so were you, loving how his cock was sending so much sensations through your overstimulated cunt. “Fuck, you’re so tight, y/n. You feel so fucking amazing.”

His eyes roll back as his balls are right at your pussy and you cry out at how fucking full you feel. Tears were starting to pool at the corners of your eyes from the immense pressure, and it only mounted as he started fucking into you.

The obscene sounds of skin slapping bounced off the walls, and your moans with San’s weren’t covered any better. San was reciting and moaning your name like a mantra—stating how much he loved your pussy, how tight you were, and how he feels that he can’t get enough of fucking you. All of which just made your pussy squeeze him out even more.

San suddenly stops fucking you and pulls his cock out of you, his precum and yours linking by a thin string. You whine at the empty feeling, your pussy clenching at nothing. He moves in further onto the bed, near the headboard as he links your fingers with his and he brings you onto his lap.

You don’t sit on his dick yet, only his lap, his his hands stroke your sides, sending shivers through your spine as he pulls you in for another greedy kiss, now more messier than ever. While he was distracted with the kiss, you feel for his cock, stroking it gently as San moans in between kisses, and slip it right into your pussy. Stars explode beneath your eyelids when you do. What the fuck. His cock fills you up to the brim, poking at your sensitive spots. You swear you felt a slight bulge from how fucking big his cock is. You barely had time to register as your legs trembled in pleasure, while the man in front of you had his head thrown back, crying in pleasure as he slowly buckled his hips.

“San. Wait, fuck it feels too much”, you cry out, clawing at his chest.

He barely recovers as he pulls himself back to face you, red tinting his cheeks, looking half lidded from the pleasure. “That’s the whole fucking point babe”, he says, pressing the slight bulge at your abdomen, causing your legs to shake and more noises come out of you. “You take my cock so well. We should fuck like this more often.”

Every movement you make just pushes San’s cock right to your g-spot and your eyes roll back. Soon enough, you were riding off him, bouncing on his cock. Your hands crawl up to San’s neck and moves his head back a little more for access.

So you started fucking his cock with your hand around his neck. No doubt, it was driving him fucking insane. He loved the pressure you put on his neck and around his cock, both stimulating him perfectly. Chokers would look so fucking lovely on him. You know you wouldn’t last.

“San, I’m gonna cum again,” you say, taking heavy breaths as he continues to buckle his hips into you.

“Go ahead. Scream my name”, he replies, pushing his thumb past your lips. And you did. Like how he hummed your name like a mantra, you screamed out his as your second orgasm hits your cunt sending you into a spiral as you spasm against San’s cock. He whimpers, “fuck that feels amazing when you cream on my dick like that.” Your eyes were totally fucked out at this point, barely able to focus on what he was saying as you continued to ride out your orgasm.

“Be a good girl and take my cum”, he instructs, albeit, pretty broken considering that he had his cock in you. You nod, pressing a kiss on his forehead before letting him rut into you as he fondles with your tits.

“So good. So fucking good. I love you. Fuck”, he confesses as he paints your cunt in white ropes, his dick twitching so much. Your heart speeds up at his confession more than him cumming in you though.

You pull yourself to face him, his dick still in you, and you laugh, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I love you too, Choi San.”

San’s heart flutters and his breathing quickens. He doesn’t know what shocked him more—his confession in the midst of him cumming, or yours.

“Ah, San, you’re hard again”, you squeal in surprise, feeling him fill you up with his cock again. The surprise turns into pleasure as your eyes roll back at how full you were feeling from his cock once again.

“Y/n, I don’t think I’m done yet”, he whispers, his hand landing on your ass. “And I don’t think you’re gonna walk tomorrow at this rate.”

True to his word, he left you fucked out, cum spilling out of your pussy, your limbs sore by the end of it after clearing another two fucking rounds. San was a fucking terrifying beast. Not that you were complaining.

“Don’t sit up yet. Let me clean you out first”, San says, who wanted to steal a whole roll of toilet paper to clean you. You grab his arm to stop him and that halts him in his tracks. You point to another room within the guest room. “There’s a bathroom there.”

San blinks. Right. But also, how fucking rich is Hongjoong? He walks over to grab a roll and then starts gently cleaning you up, peppering you with kisses on the way.

“Was I too rough?” He asks, stroking your head. “I’m sorry if I was, it’s just that honestly, I’ve actually really liked you for a long while and I had fantasies about you and stuff…”, and he trails off, embarrassed.

“And that’s why I’ve been teasing you. You’re so adorable when you’re blushing around me. How could I not have noticed?” You reply, giggling into his chest. San pouts, be he’s glad that it worked out, though honestly thinking about it just made him want to fuck you out even more.

The both of you were cuddling under the sheets now, your head on his chest as he had you wrapped in his arms.

“We should wash up”, San suggests, twirling your hair.

“Yeah we should but you need to carry me. My legs are jelly because of a certain someone”, you pout, smacking his chest.

San only laughs, and then nods. “Anything for you, darling.”

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #smut #ateez san #choi san smut #Spotify

1K notes · View notes

jockbroski34 · 2 months

Text

How Things Used To Be

I wonder how long it took me to notice that there was something wrong with Nathan. We had been best friends for years, ever since the 5th grade, and we always hung out together both in and out of school. I was hoping things could’ve stayed like that this summer, but it seemed like fate had other plans. Between family vacations and college prep, it seemed like he didn’t have time for me anymore. And to make it worse, whenever he wasn’t doing that, he was hanging out with some other guys who I had never met, and he never even bothered to ask me if I wanted to come with. I know people grow and change, but I didn’t want to see it happen to my own best friend. On the bright side, we’re going to the same college, so I hope I can see him around.

And I did see him. It was the third week of courses, once I was starting to get acquainted with campus life. For once, I was actually being more social, trying to fill the gap that Nathan left. I used this opportunity to start talking to people in my classes and I found that we had some similar interests. I wish I could say the same for my roommate, but he mostly keeps to himself and we don’t have much in common.

Okay, back to Nathan. I was walking back to the dorms after my last class, texting one of my classmates about the homework. I was interrupted when I walked headfirst into another student. I should’ve been paying more attention to my surroundings. I looked up at the giant in front of me, probably 6’3”, before apologizing.

“James, is that you?” the giant asked. The voice sounded very familiar, yet at the same time, different. I took a closer look at him. “Long time no see, huh?” I was surprised when I realized who it was.

“Nate? Woah, what happened to you?” I couldn’t believe that this person in front of me was my best friend. This was not the same Nathan from three months ago during graduation. He was always a bit taller than me, but he had to have grown at least 3 inches. He used to wear glasses, but it seemed like he switched over to contacts.

In the warm August heat, he was wearing a tank top which revealed his newfound biceps for the whole world to see. The tank top clung closely to his chest and I could see his newly-formed six-pack through the fabric. He was wearing basketball shorts that were short enough that I could catch a glimpse of his thighs, which were just as big as his arms. I never knew Nathan went to the gym, and if he did, he never told me. But still, I couldn’t comprehend how he became so huge in just three months, which made me more curious about what he had been up to. A backwards hat fit tightly atop his head with Greek letters on them. Sigma Lambda Chi… Had Nathan really joined a frat? To be completely honest, he looked like he was cosplaying as a frat bro, a far cry from how I knew him.

“Like what you see, bro?” James chuckled, as he flexed one of his arms. He definitely never came across as a cocky showoff, but I was too distracted by his flexed bicep to notice. I caught myself staring for a second too long, before feeling my face turn red hot. Me and Nathan knew everything about each other, but there was one thing I never told him. I was gay. To tell you the truth, I had a crush on him, but I knew I could never tell him to preserve our friendship. But now he looks even better, and he hasn’t made time for me at all. Now he really felt out of my league.

“I’ve been working out a lot lately. I’m glad you noticed.” He still had his signature smile, but it looked out of place on his new body. His face especially looked a lot more angular and masculine. A visible tan glazed over his body like a fresh coat of paint.

“Daaamn! You look great, dude!” To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to feel talking to him again. On one hand, I was happy to see him again, and, admittedly, a little surprised to see him like this. On the other hand, he ditched me this whole summer to hang out with some other guys. It felt so bittersweet.

“If there weren’t other people around, I’d let you…I mean uh, how have you been bro? I know I’ve been busy a lot lately. Sorry about that, dude.” We told each other what we did over the summer, and wow, was his summer more interesting.

As we caught up, I learned more about what he has been up to. Apparently, he joined a frat and he was hanging out with the guys there more and more. He promised that he’d bring me to a party sometime, but I was hesitant because I’m not much of a party animal. That lifestyle just isn’t for me. He also said he was thinking about joining our school’s football team at the request of his roommate, which I found even more surprising because Nathan never played sports in high school. I did track, but I was never that big into sports myself. Our conversation was interrupted as another guy entered the scene.

“Yo, Nate! Finally found you. You seriously need to get better at texting me back, dude. And who’s this dude?” The guy was wearing the same hat as Nate, so I figured he was one of his frat bros.

“My bad, bro. Brett, this is James. We go way back. James, this is Brett. He’s my roommate. We met over the summer and we’ve been hanging out since.”

“Alright, cool, bro,” Brett responded, clearly impatient and indifferent towards me. He dismissed me entirely, almost like I wasn’t worth his time. “You still going to the gym with me or what?”

“Sorry, bro. I just ran into him and we were catching up.” Nathan responded. “Hey, I gotta get going. We should get food sometime. Peace!” I watched as Nathan and Brett walked away in the opposite direction of me towards the gym. As they moved further away, I could hear Brett chastise him about something. This is the guy that Nathan ditched me for? I hope I’m wrong, but he seemed like kind of a dick. I know I was jealous of him for taking up my best friend’s time, but I didn’t trust him. As for me, I returned to the dorm to work on the assignment with my roommate.

The next time I saw Nate was that weekend, when I held up his promise to get something to eat. I tried to ask him about it earlier in the week, but he was doing stuff at the frat all that time. I was at least grateful that he took time out of his schedule for me for once. He mentioned that he normally doesn’t hang out with anyone who wasn’t in the frat, almost like they were some exclusive bro clique that I was excluded from. For once, it was good to hang out with him one-on-one without any of his frat bros getting in the way. I expected things to be like how they were before, but I couldn’t be any more wrong.

It’s not that I disliked the new Nathan, but I felt like we didn’t have much common ground anymore. It was like he was a completely different person. He didn’t seem to care that much about our old interests anymore. He didn’t have time for video games and he just wasn’t that interested in watching movies or photography anymore. All he seemed to care about was working out all day and partying all night. All he would talk about was some stupid stuff he or one of his bros did.

Plus, he told me he switched his major from mechanical engineering to be a personal trainer. It seemed like he just became a total gym bro overnight. The studious and witty Nathan that I loved kinda just seemed to be a stereotypical meathead now. The worst part was that I knew that this was the same Nathan deep down, and he still treated me the same even if he was a lot busier. I felt like maybe I was the problem since he was clearly still having a good time, and I wasn’t. Why do I feel this way?

I felt my mood change as we talked. Eventually, I figured it was time to cut off the conversation and return to the dorm, but Nathan definitely knew something was off. He texted me later that evening, asking me if everything was alright. To be honest, I wanted to make some lame excuse that I was feeling sick, but we’ve always been honest with each other, so I told him how I really felt.

Me: Nate, to be honest, I think I need some time away from you. I don’t hate you or anything, but it feels like we’ve been growing apart and I feel like you’ve become a different person. I feel like when I look at you, I don’t see the Nathan I’ve known for years, but someone else entirely.

I wanted to say more about how I felt about his new changes, but I didn’t want to escalate things.

Nathan: James, I’m sorry you feel that way about me. I felt like we had a good time today. I’ve grown and changed a lot recently, and I’ve realized a lot about myself, but I’m happy with who I am right now. I know I’m spending a lot of time at the gym or with Brett or my other bros, but I still care about you deeply, bro. You might be right though. Hanging out with you isn’t the same as hanging with the guys at the frat.

Me: Do you honestly see yourself as just a frat boy? You’re more than that. You’re my best friend. But now, you have more in common with the jocks from high school than the Nathan I knew. It’s hard talking to you now since all you care about anymore are your gains and partying. You’re nothing more than a meathead now.

Nathan: So that’s how you see me, bro? The reason I had been avoiding you is because I knew that you wouldn’t like seeing me like this. I guess I was right, bro. But trust me, I’m happy like this. I’m a lot more social than when I was when I was with you, and I’ve even become more in shape too. I care about our friendship more than you can possibly imagine, but I guess this is for the best. To be honest, I think it would be a lot of fun if you were here in the frat with me, but I know you wouldn’t say yes.

I didn’t bother responding. I could never picture myself joining a frat. I would never get along with his frat bro friends, especially Brett, who seemed to be the one he was closest with. I still couldn’t believe Nate would choose him over me. I wasn’t sure whether to feel angry, or sad, or disappointed towards him. I felt like he was wasting his life partying when he should be studying. To think this was the person I cared about more than anyone. It was at this point that I figured I probably wouldn’t have my old friend back. Or so I thought.

A couple weeks passed and I tried to move on from Nathan. I always saw him on his story drinking and partying late into the night at the frat house or posting selfies at the gym. He looked like he was fully embracing his new frat boy persona now. If he didn’t still care about me, it would’ve felt like he was doing it out of spite. As for me, I started to hang out with my classmates more and more, and there was even a guy I went on a date with. It was a nice date and I did like the guy, but for some reason, the thought of Nathan lingered in my mind. Even though I hated what he had become, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about him. I couldn’t deny how much he turned me on. Why was I still thirsting after a stupid fucking frat bro? One afternoon, after I returned to my dorm, I received a text on my phone. To my surprise, it was Nathan.

“Hey bro, can we talk? There are some things I need to get off my chest.”

I didn’t know what he could possibly want with me now. I suppose I can hear him out just so I can see what he wants. I went over to his room further down the hall, and thankfully Brett was not here to ruin the moment. Nate said that he was doing some preparations for some stuff at the frat. When I asked, he didn’t specify what though. It always feels like stuff at the frat is kept under wraps.

“Did you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Even if it’s beer?” A mischievous grin appeared on his face. Was he seriously offering me beer? I knew that alcohol wasn’t allowed in the dorms, but clearly that rule didn’t faze him. Obviously he knew how to get his hands on some drinks. To be honest, I had never drank alcohol before, but I figured this would be the easiest way to try it before I turned 21. Plus, it might alleviate the tension between us. Either that or make us fight like two drunkards in a bar.

“Sure, why not.” Nate went to get two bottles for us. I took my first sip and was disgusted by the bitter taste of the beer.

“You don’t like it? Neither did I at first,” Nate chuckled. “After a while, you get used to it.” Nate turned the TV on as we chatted. I apologized about what I said about him last time we talked, but he said it was no big deal. I felt like I was a little too harsh on him. It could just be the alcohol, but I found that I got along with him better than I did weeks ago. As we chatted, my body started to tingle. Was this how it felt like to be drunk?

“Hey, Nate. I feel kinda weird, but not like drunk weird. Is this normal, bro?” I asked. By this point, we both had two drinks each. I didn’t mind the taste of the beer the second time.

“Nah, you’re fine bro.” Nate responded, with a smile on his face. Compared to me, he appeared to be much more sober. “It happens sometimes, especially when you’re not used to it.” I figured he knew best, since he was the one drinking and partying all the time, so I ignored this foreign feeling rushing through my body. I felt as if my body was overheating as I felt my arms and legs throb and pulsate. Sweat was leaking off my armpits and down my forehead. There was part of me that knew that something was off, but it was drowned out by the alcohol. As I took another sip, I felt my arm spasm as I accidentally spilled some beer onto my shirt. Shit, I wasn’t expecting to do laundry later.

“Damn bro, you made a mess. You alright? Do you wanna change your shirt?” Nate asked. I nodded and he quickly went to his room to pick out something for me. It wasn’t the first time I had to wear his clothes. “Sorry about that, bro. First thing I found. Hope it fits you.” It was a stringer tank with Sigma Lambda Chi on it. I bet Nate looked like a walking symbol of the frat wearing that stuff. For some reason, the idea was kinda amusing to me because it seemed so over the top. I wondered how I would look dressed up like that. I’d probably look really stupid.

I stripped out of my wet shirt and changed right in front of him. I caught a whiff from my armpits, and I thought I smelled like a sweaty gym bro. The tank appeared to be a size up and it hung loosely on me. Still, it was better than nothing I guess. Despite that, it had a nice familiar smell to it though. It smelled like Nathan, but at the same time, it had a different flavor to it. He smelled a lot more manly than I remembered. I bet he wore it to the gym often.

Eventually, after my third drink, I went to go to the bathroom. My body was starting to ache, like I had just done a workout with Nate earlier. Workout…Was that what happened earlier? …I think so? Did we work out after class and come back to his place for some brewskis? For some reason, the events of today felt incredibly fuzzy to me. I was starting to forget the reason I was here in the first place.

I clumsily stumbled over my feet which looked bigger than usual. After I took a piss, I looked at myself in the mirror. Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I didn’t always look that big, right? From a first glance, it looked like I was looking through one of those distorted mirrors they have at amusement parks. I had to have been really drunk at this point. I chuckled at the figure in front of me. At this point, I almost looked like one of those frat bros! I decided to flex my arms like they would, oblivious to the fact that they already grew just a little bit, before joining Nate on the couch.

“There you are, big man!” he said as he squeezed my muscles. I have been working out recently, I think. “I thought you passed out in there. Most guys don’t last that long for their first time, but you look good enough for another brewski.”

After downing our fourth drinks, the conversation took a different turn.

“Yo, James. I knew you said you weren’t too big on the idea of joining our frat last time we chatted, but how do you feel now, having thought things over?”

I remembered our last conversation. Honestly, I was so drunk that I didn’t remember why I turned him down in the first place. The idea that seemed unappealing to me at the time seemed like it was perfect for me at this moment. I didn’t even understand why I would be so reluctant to join. I needed to join more than anything else. I would do anything to join, even if I had to completely humiliate myself in front of my fellow bros. At this point, nothing was too extreme for me. The fact that Nate was in it was enough reason to join, so we could hang out more like we used to. Plus, I could get to hang out with all my other bros and drink and party whenever we want.

“I’ve given it some thought, and yeah bro, I’ll join,” my voice slurred as my mouth moved before my mind could. I had committed at this point. No backing out now. I’m a member of Sigma Lambda Chi for life.

“Sweet, bro!” He grabbed me on my far shoulder and pulled me close. “I’m glad you said yes, because I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes, bro.”

I closed my eyes as Nate went into his room to grab something. Did I actually agree to join his frat? I’m not sure what’s going on with me today. When he came back, I felt Nate press on my head as his “surprise” fit tight around it. “You can open them now.”

I realized I was wearing the same hat that Nate always wore, with his frat’s letters printed on it. “We’re gonna be matching now, bro. Isn’t that awesome? I know you’re gonna want to wear it whenever and wherever. But you’re wearing it wrong. Let me fix it for you, dude.” He turned the brim around so it faced my back. As my hat turned backwards, I felt my mind fog up and any tension or brain activity screech to a halt. I was unable to realize what I signed myself up for, unable to protest. My conscious mind was drowned out by the alcohol and this hat was like a lock, sealing it away. Not that I was against this, as a wave of pleasure surged through me. I felt my mind slow down, almost as if it was stuck in molasses, as my thoughts began to simplify. It felt good though...

I would follow the example of my fellow brothers. Look like them, think like them, act like them. Almost like a hivemind of bros, you know, bro? By this point, the changes were irreversible. Nate had turned me into another frat bro just like him.

“Everything worked out as planned, bro. You see, when you, my own best bro, told me you didn’t want to join the frat with me, I was actually really hurt. So I talked to Brett, and had him “work his magic”, to help me do to you what he did to me. I don’t like to lie to you, but it’s a frat secret, so now you get to know bro. Like I said, it’s a secret, so don’t talk about this with anyone.”

“Don’t worry about it bro. It’s all…uh…

Fuck dude, what’s the word…water under the bridge? Huhuhu…” I really had to think about that one. I found it harder to articulate and use complex words, as I mainly just spoke in bro-speak. To be honest, I wasn’t really that upset that he lied to me. He did what he had to as a member of the frat. I never stayed mad at one of my bros for very long.

“Now we get to be brothers for life,” he said as he gave me a big bro hug. We clung to each other like two giant masses of muscle. My huge biceps wrapped around his firm back as his did for me. Afterwards, he handed me my fifth drink and we cheered to me joining Sigma Lambda Chi. He laid down all of the rules, what everything was like, telling me about the coolest guys there, and so on. He said he’d bring me to the frat house and introduce me to everyone tomorrow. “They’re gonna love you for sure, bro. I’ve got an eye for cool bros like you.”

As it got later, and we moved on to drink numero 6, I felt myself get very tired as we both passed out on his couch. I woke up a couple hours later, and I looked out the window to see a pitch black sky. Shit, it was almost 10 PM and I had to turn in my assignment at midnight. But for some reason, I didn’t really care right now. I didn’t mind turning in assignments late as long as the teacher still gave me credit. I felt no different from the way I was a couple hours ago, just another Sigma Lambda Chi frat bro, but I liked it. It felt right to me. It was where I, no, where we belonged.

I looked down. Nate’s tank hung tightly to me now. It took me a second to notice my arms…Holy shit, they were fucking huge! I looked awesome, bro. As I admired my new body, Nate was still asleep, his hand on my meaty thigh. Just above that, my dick throbbed through my pants. Fuck, I was so horny for some reason. Eventually, Nate slowly regained consciousness.

“I usually don’t drink this much on a school day,” Nate said, still a little hungover as he rubbed his eyes. We sat in silence for about a minute before he spoke again. “By the way, there was another reason I invited you over. There’s something that’s been on my chest for a while.”

“Go ahead, bro. I can take it,” I responded confidently. My voice sounded deeper and more bro-like than usual, just like him.

“Here goes, dude. I think I like you, bro. Not like you, but I think I like like you. I know it’s hella gay, but I couldn’t stand to see you be so cold to me. That’s why I had to make you a bro like me. I’m sure you’ll love it here, bro. And hey, if you’re not gay, that’s cool. We can forget this shit ever happened and go back to being bros for life.”

At first, I honestly thought I was still dreaming. First, he turned me into a frat boy, and now, he was confessing his feelings to me? How crazier could this night get? For all my life, I thought he was straight. I remembered being glad when he broke up with his girlfriend two years back. I couldn’t stand her. When he joined Sigma Lambda Chi, I assumed he was 100% straight and that he was banging some sorority chicks every night. To think he felt the same way I did all this time.

“Bro, I like you too. When you stopped talking to me, I started to get kinda jealous. I didn’t want to accept you for who you are. But being your bro just isn’t enough for me, bro.” I leaned in for a kiss, my inhibitions still nowhere to be found. It was my first kiss and it was with the person I cherished most. I felt like I was in heaven. I didn’t really care that I was a dumb frat bro like him anymore. I never did. That shit was stupid anyways. But now, Nate fixed our friendship and made us closer than ever. I loved the taste of his lips against mine and I didn’t want it to end but eventually Nate parted our lips.

“Wanna fuck me, bro?” he whispered in my ear. A flirtatious smirk was plastered on his face, and one of his hands was still wrapped around my neck. This was real. I nodded as he took me to his bed. I had never done this before, but I’ve seen plenty of porn, so I knew what to expect. He laid down on his back and stripped naked. I never felt this aroused before. My dick even looked bigger than it used to be. I was so pent up that I felt like I was holding this load in for months. I guess frat bros really are as horny as they say. I lubed up my larger cock before sticking it into Nate’s hole.

My serpent stretched out his tight hole as he had clearly not seen much action down there until now. I pounded his ass as my dick went in and out of him. In and out, in and out, in and out…It was a steady rhythm, my dick was like a metronome. My hands clung to him as I held him in place, pinning him to his bed. My hands ran all over his shoulders, broad and muscular, built like a football player’s. We both felt absolutely euphoric as our deep, masculine moans filled the room. The moans were loud enough that the students on the other side of the wall could easily hear them, but I didn’t care about any noise complaints as I fucked him harder and harder. After half an hour of fucking, he both hit our orgasm at almost exactly the same time. I ejaculated inside his tight hole, my hot, sticky seed flooding his insides as Nate came all over his abs. At this point I was exhausted and still hungover and I basically fell on top of him on his bed. We were both panting and out of breath.

“I knew you were a good fucker, bro.” he whispered seductively as he kissed me. We stayed in that position for several minutes until we heard the door open.

“Yo, Nate! Did you do it? How did it go?” a voice asked, shouting loudly from the other room. I recognized the voice as Brett’s. He peeked into the room, witnessing the two of us cuddling together naked. To be honest, I thought he would’ve been grossed out. Guess I had the wrong idea about him.

“Better than expected, dude,” Nate responded. He didn’t seem to care that we were both naked in front of his roommate and that we just got back from our trip to Pound Town.

“He looks way better this way, don’t you agree, bro? But man, dude, now I know why you wanted him to be a pledge so bad. I was wondering why you wouldn’t fuck any of those sexy sorority babes. More for me, I guess.”

A week passed and by then, I joined the frat officially. Me and Nate started dating shortly after, but none of our bros minded. It didn’t matter if we were gay, we were still brothers. I also learned how Nate met Brett. He was taking a tour of the campus over the summer and he ran into Brett who was recruiting people for the frat. Brett took a liking to him and kinda took him under his wing like some sort of mentor and they started hanging out since he only lived a town away from us. Brett was our age, but he had more seniority and authority because his older brother Brad was very popular within the frat. Turns out Brett and some of the upperclassmen knew how to turn guys into the ideal bros for their frat. They wanted to bolster their numbers to make Sigma Lambda Chi the biggest and coolest frat in the state, with the biggest bros and the biggest parties, and naturally both me and Nate were chosen. Not that either of us minded. Nate joined the football team with Brett and some other guys in the frat, and the rest of us would go watch them play every game. Our section of the stadium was always the loudest and rowdiest, especially when one of our bros scored a touchdown.

Apparently I grew a ton during the night that I was with Nate, but I was too drunk to notice just how massive I had become. It must’ve been something in the beer, huhu. I started working out with Nate and Brett, and sometimes some other bros too. I even ended up changing my major. I chose business because my bros said that it was the easiest shit ever and I wasn’t feeling psychology anymore. I didn’t really feel like thinking much anymore and I found that focusing on education so much was a chore and that I was wasting my college experience. I’d rather be partying and drinking or hanging out with the bros at the frat house, watching sports, playing video games, or playing ball outside. I got to see why Nate grew to enjoy this lifestyle so much, and I was mad at myself for not seeing his point of view sooner.

Three years later, me and Nate are still dating and we’re set to graduate this semester. We’re thinking about getting a place in the city not too far from campus, probably with Brett and another friend of ours to save money on rent. We’ll probably still throw parties every weekend like we used to. College was such a memorable experience and I wish I could live it again. I only have Nate, Brett, and all my other bros to thank for making college awesome for me.

433 notes · View notes

13rurururi · 10 months

Text

NSFW/Smut Alphabet with Haganezuka Hotaru

Pairing: Haganezuka Hotaru x Female!Reader

Content Warnings: cunnilingus, vaginal sex, oral sex, sex toys, impact play, size kink, public sex, bondage, edging, etc.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Haganezuka initially didn't understand the significance of aftercare, opting to hastily return to his workshop after a sensual session with you; however, once he gradually became attached to you — your smell, your taste, your skin, your sweet pussy — he began dedicating time to cleaning you up or offering to carry you to the village's hot springs to alleviate the soreness of your muscles.

Soon, aftercare became a must in your sexual endeavors. He lets you lay on his futon (like the sweet princess you are) as he prepares damp towels and warm tea. He regards you with the same sort of attention he showcases his swords: unwavering, focused, and attentive.

"My pretty baby can't walk? Let me give you a massage then."

Most definitely, his initially wholesome massages end up being another round of sex.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Have you seen this man? He has rippling muscles all over his body. His shoulders are toned; his pectorals have veins protruding shamelessly; and his thighs are so firm, you cum when riding them.

However, Hotaru unconsciously favors his arms and hands the most. He's a swordsmith, after all, and his arms are a tool for crafting the most spectacular weaponry, flexing with each stroke of his hammer against heated metal. With that being said, he enjoys seeing your blissed-out face create the most lewd expressions as he pumps his fingers into you in strong, consistent motions. He also loses sense when you instinctively grasp onto his arms as he pounds into you — missionary style — leaving red marks that attest to how amazingly he pleased you.

On the other hand, he could cum just by looking at your thighs and ass jiggle and shake due to the simplest of motions. It doesn't matter the size of your bottoms, you better prepare yourself for his calloused hand either softly caressing your ass (he does it in public, too) or suddenly smacking you in the most random times. It feels so intimate for him, and it ignites a carnal desire of ownership that gets his dick hard. In other words — sit on his face, and you'd both be sent to heaven in pure bliss.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)

He'd want to cum all over you — on your stomach, your breasts, your face. To put it simply, he regards the sheen of his sticky load on your skin as a signature finale to your intimate night together. He subconsciously does things systematically, so rubbing his cum all over your pussy lips, thighs, and the entire expanse of your soft skin is akin to him polishing a katana. Your whimpering moans are left unheard as Hotaru places his utmost focus on making sure you're coated in nothing but his cum.

(Yes, he cums a lot. You could last plenty of rounds, and he'd still have spurts of his white load dripping from his swollen, red tip — plenty enough to coat you all over.)

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Haganezuka, this man, "borrows" your cum-stained undergarments and stashes at least one in his workshop. When you're engulfed in deep, exhausted sleep in the morning after sex, he pockets your underwear discretely, heading off to the forge. "It's for the sake of stress relief," he'd convince himself.

When he is met with unpleasant news of his clients (Tanjiro) breaking his swords — and he doesn't have enough time to threaten them with his deadly knives — he opts to alleviate his anger by fisting, pumping, and stroking his cock wrapped in your damp panties. It's not as warm or soft as your cunt, but he needs some sort of outlet to release some steam while he's in his workspace.

He'd return your undergarments by the end of the day, and you remain oblivious, once more cumming on another pair that he'd definitely bring with him to work the next morning.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Haganezuka had always been a difficult man. He's aggressive and asocial, exuding a terrifying aura that discourages any individual interested in having him ravish them.

You were his first actual romantic and sexual partner, and your first night together in bed was full of shy whispers and exciting, experimental touches. Worry not, for Haganezuka Hotaru places his entire heart and soul in whatever he enjoys; may it be swordsmithing or fucking you dumb, he'd ensure that he hones his skills to perfection.

F = Favorite Position

He's quite open to any sort of position; in the end, he can adapt and stuff your cunt full, so he doesn't mind as much. However, his cock painfully aches even more when you're under him in a missionary position. It gets him even harder when he bends you in half into a mating press, exposing the entirety of you to him and giving him greater access to your most sensitive spots. He adores seeing your face contort into the most obscene expressions, after all.

Another position he finds himself enjoying is having your back slammed against the wall as he supports your entire weight with his strong arm, pounding into your pussy without any semblance of rationality.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous?)

His brows are consistently furrowed due to his angry and serious nature, so he carries his usual demeanor into bed, often looking at you with utmost loyalty and dedication as he feels your juices coat his veiny cock.

He treats each session with you as if it were a blessed ritual that warrants full attention and care — he is a man of undeniable focus, after all, and he wants you to feel not only the best orgasms of your life but his genuine appreciation and earnestness for you, as well.

H = Hair (how well groomed they are, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Oh, Hotaru has the thickest, darkest locks that frame his face and upper body; undoubtedly, you'd find this trend consistent in his nether regions. He doesn't have high regard for his physical appearance, so the hairs around his cock can be quite unruly. However, they're not unpleasant. They actually provide an interesting texture that rubs at your clit just right with each strong stroke of his length into your crying cunt.

I = Intimacy (how they are during the moment in a romantic aspect)

He initially struggled with expressing his softer, romantic side to you. In time, when he undeniably fell in love with you, he began demonstrating the sweetest actions that leave you simultaneously swooning and twitching in love and pleasure.

When he goes down on you, he gathers his thick strands of hair into a ponytail, in order to ensure absolute focus when he buries his tongue into your slick folds. When you find yourself between his legs — his length prodding at the back of your throat — he tucks your hair behind your ears in the gentlest motion that sends tingles throughout your body.

At either of your climaxes, he'd make unwavering, passionate eye contact with you, often caressing your cheek as you moan in pure pleasure. He always kisses you languidly by the end of your intimate night, lips firmly pressed onto yours, sending a message of love and unspoken promises.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

As mentioned, he is quite unashamed in pleasing himself when you're not around. When he gets too frustrated and erratic, he hides himself away deep in the woods or in the hidden crevices of his workshop and fists his cock with your pretty mouth in mind. You know how he disappears after his outbursts? Well, now you know what your beloved lover does to mitigate his rage: cumming on his palms and grunting your name in a chant.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

(1) Bondage: he's into tying you up until you fall limp.

You're arms are definitely getting bound to a post as he slams his hips into yours. He gets too flustered when your hands travel across his firm chest to his ticklish sides, and you won't stop teasing, so he ends up grabbing the discarded cloth of his headscarf and nearly-painfully binding your hands together.

"You're my fuckdoll tonight until you get that attitude sorted out. Stay fucking still."

(2) Impact Play: you end up splayed over his lap as he spanks your ass, thighs, and sobbing pussy.

He adores the jiggle of your taut skin with each slam of his wide palms across your flesh. You get even more red and wet with each slap, and he gets off your pitched whines and yelps. Don't worry, he'll kiss you better later.

(3) Public Sex: you have quite risky sex in the village's local hot springs.

You palm your hand into your mouth, hoping that no one would hear your pathetic whimpers escape. It was a good thing that no one else was bathing in the public hot springs at the moment, or they'd become voyeurs to the sinful display of Hotaru bouncing you up and down on his erect cock, making the waters harshly splash around your sweating bodies.

L = Location (favorite places to do the deed)

Coming home to you in your private abode encases Hotaru in a sort of comfort that allows him to not hold himself back when fucking you. Each room in your household has already witnessed your erotic display and heard your lust-filled sounds. Haganezuka can take you anywhere and anytime.

You're cooking him dinner? You're now sprawled across the polished tabletops, pussy being explored by his insatiable tongue. Perhaps, you're doing the laundry? Well, it's best to rewash the sheets haphazardly thrown on the floor, since they once again became soiled by your shared fluids.

M = Motivation (what turns them on or gets them going)

Your mere existence is enough to send blood rushing down his cock, resulting in an uncomfortable tent that only you could relieve. However, he becomes truly weak when you wear his haori (or any of his clothing). His clothes accommodate his bulky, firm muscles, and seeing the same boring clothes draped on your smaller figure makes the head of his dick throb and leak with beads of precum. He figures he has a size kink.

N = NO (something they wouldn’t do)

He dislikes it when you tickle him too much; after all, he'd end up bursting into hiccups of laughter, inevitably falling limp onto you during sex. He wants to be absolutely present during your deed, so you can't use his sensitive sides against him too much.

Apart from that, he would never, ever agree to a threesome — he is, beyond any doubt, a possessive lover. He's not suffocating or anything, but the sensual moments you experience together are too special to him; the idea of sharing you with another sickens him, and the bubbling anger might result in a person being chased with razor-sharp knives.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Hotaru would never fail to offer going down on you; after all, you're his beloved lover, and he yearns to return a semblance of what you make him feel. He does this efficiently by parting your legs wide apart, resulting in a wonderfully painful stretch, as he teasingly — precisely —drags his tongue across your folds up to your pulsating clit. He can have his face buried in your cunt for hours.

On the other hand, he enjoys it thoroughly when you also get on your knees and swallow his cock with your struggling, salivating mouth. You usually end up getting mouth-fucked, however.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough or slow and sensual?)

Haganezuka is a man who can perform both extremes in a skillful, precise manner. He can last hours kissing every crevice of your body, dragging his rough palms across your bare form tenderly. His adoration for you is immeasurable, so he opts to showcase it by treating you as if you were the rarest gem in the whole land. Your body tingles with a subtle, pleasurable static by the time he empties his heavy, hot load inside and all over you.

For the most part, however, he has you bent in half as he adapts a swift pace that has you screaming in immense bliss. The sinful beat of skin-on-skin is erratic and quick in its tempo, and these unbearably rough sessions leave you fucked stupid. Haganezuka smirks at your half-lidded gaze and drooling mouth (he takes pride in how his strength can render you limp and euphoric), and he always makes sure to reward you with the softest kiss.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex)

He dislikes the prospect of rushing your sexual endeavors. He is a man of consistent, immovable focus; of course, he cannot be satisfied by the mere taste of you. He wants to take his time in ravishing you and making you feel absolutely adored with his full, unwavering attention. His lover deserves nothing less, after all.

R = Risk (Are they willing to experiment and take risks?)

As long as it makes you and him feel good, he's willing to try. He's surprisingly open-minded with a lot of uncommon kinks; even if he does throw you a skeptical gaze at first, he doesn't let his hesitance deter him from possibly finding your next favorite position or foreplay.

In the end, he adores making love with you because it is a display of your affection towards one another; so if being experimental and a little more risque strengthens your bond — he'll do it in a heartbeat.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long they last)

Haganezuka is a man with impressive stamina, even at the age of 37. He could relentlessly chase Tanjiro from sunset until the break of dawn — that may be enough to paint a picture of how persistent he is throughout the evening.

He fucks you until daylight with sparse breaks between rounds. He can make you undergo at least 5 powerful orgasms in one night, since he likes taking his time in foreplay and whatnot. However, on nights he deems you deserve more punishment (through a long-drawn-out teasing session), he can edge you for nearly an hour until he lets you cum, ignoring your pleas and teary whimpers.

Your energy may be nearly depleted, but he still has plenty of things he wants to do to you.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? Do they use it on a partner or themselves?)

It's interesting to note that sex toys had already existed in Ancient Japan, way back in the Edo Period; with that being said, Hotaru likes to make his own — a metal dildo that prods through your hole right into your cervix. Seeing you withering on the mattress as he angles his sinful creation in precise strokes can make him release his own load. With one hand on the erotic toy, he has more freedom to play with with your puffy, pulsating clit. Nothing makes this craftsman more satisfied than seeing his beloved lover fully appreciate the utility of his creation.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases you unintentionally, becoming too engrossed in your sweet pussy and wanting to watch your wetness gradually increase with each lick, nip, and pinch. When he becomes too unaware of everything else but your cunt, you try to prompt him to stop, whining and moaning in disarray as he spares you nothing but a quizzical glance. He's not done yet.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

He usually grunts and groans in a low pitch that reverberates throughout your body. He's not loud, per se, but he definitely ensures that you hear how good you make him feel, so he angles his deep rumbling moans right into your ear, "You feel good, my love. You were fucking made for me."

However, when you occasionally brush your fingertips across his sides (his sensitive, sensitive sides) during sex, you could illicit a full, higher-pitched whimper out of his mouth. He gets flustered whenever you do it, and if you do it repeatedly, he'd get so infuriated that he'd end up punishing you roughly for the rest of the evening. Perhaps, that's exactly what you wanted.

W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Haganezuka loves to pamper you. He appears like a gruff man with unstoppable rage, but he turns into the softest, gentlest lover when it comes to you. After strenuous sex, he'd lay you down and brush damp strands off your forehead, kissing you tenderly. He prepares a warm cloth that he wipes all over you, ensuring that you feel comfortable and clean.

The next day, he would opt to be a little late in starting his responsibilities in the forge, brushing your hair and bathing with you under a soothing stream of water. He dresses you up with the same attention he shows when stripping you bare.

You better not tell anyone, but Hotaru is secretly a gentle giant — just for you.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His body is a force to be reckoned with — brawny muscles (embellished by protruding veins that attest to his physical prowess) are consistent throughout his large frame. You best believe such a trend is applicable to his cock: thick, long, and veiny.

When flaccid, his cock can be measured to about 6.5 inches; when fully erect, his dick grows up to an impressive 8.5 inches, curving ever-so-slightly to the side. His cock head is colored by a muted red that deepens in hue the closer he is to his release.

In short, his cock ensures that your pussy is painfully, deliciously stretched, and the two prominent veins running along his length rubs your warm walls perfectly.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He has a healthy, manageable sex drive. You usually make love every other day, but if he comes home exhausted from forging the most brilliant katanas, he falls asleep the moment his head of ruffled hair hits the bed — snoring lowly and deeply.

Sometimes, he gets too occupied with making swords (we've all seen how stubborn this man can be), resulting in undetected, pent-up sexual frustration. By the time he rejoices with a newly polished katana, he is also washed with the urge to bury his hardened, throbbing cock into your warmth.

He'd rush home, ignore your scolding tone, and carry you to bed for a rough fucking. This man is so complicated yet so endearing, you simply relent.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He won't be sleeping until he ensures your comfort. He regards aftercare as a necessary facet of your intimacy, after all. Haganezuka never misses a single step when it comes to the things and people he loves. By the time you're snuggled up in a warm bundle, he'll join you, nuzzling his face on the crown of your head.

He deeply sighs in honest contentment and whispers, "I love you," right before his heavy lids fully close. He always has sweet dreams as long as he's with you.

A/N: I really ended it with fluff, whew. This took a longer time than expected, but I hope you enjoy my take on Haganezuka's NSFW Alphabet. This was very fun to do, regardless.

If you enjoyed this, feel free to send me requests of what you'd like me to do next! I'll try my best in tackling my inbox.

Edit: I changed the picture for the sake of aesthetic. We gotta love his arms.

2K notes · View notes

httpwintersoldier · 6 months

Text

『 lady marmelade. || buggy x reader 』

[PART 2 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - BUGGY VER.

[SHANKS VER.] [MIHAWK VER.] [SANJI VER.]

pairing: buggy x f!reader words: lenghtyyyyy summary: your occupation lead you to meet your new boss... who'd perhaps become more than that. angst; smut; fluff.

Doing Burlesque was not what you had initially seen yourself doing professionally, but in a weird turn of events, the doors had opened and you walked right through them. Or rather... the curtains.

You initially intended to study the sea and its mysteries, but it wasn't exactly a job that paid well from the get-go, so you began working at a bar. Just to get yourself started, you said.

Then a man noticed you... He was tall and well built, a little meat on his bones but definitely intimidating. Hair as white as snow and a full beard with a nicely kept moustache. The man couldn't help but compliment you: your beautiful smile, your beautiful body, your bright personality... You were perfect, he said.

He approached you, initially asking you how much you made. You found it insulting! That was, until he said he'd triple it if you joined his show. The man was sure you'd be a hit, and he was right.

At first you thought he was inviting you to be a stripper, but as you learned the art of burlesque, you realized it was nothing of the sort - and you loved it. The attention, the compliments, the lights and cheers, the beautifully decorated attires, the attention to detail... But most of all, you adored the freedom it gave you to study the sea.

The pay was amazing, and it allowed you to have enough time and money to invest in your hobby - the sea.

"We got a... uh... how to describe the situation..." the stage coordinator said as he tapped his chin, looking for the correct words "We got a different crowd."

You were applying the finishing touches to your attire, but stopped, furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the man as you heard his choice of words, as well as the ruckus behind the curtain.

You stood up and walked to the edge of the curtain, tugging on it slightly, so only one of your eyes peeked out to look at the audience. You gasped in horror and stepped furiously towards the stage manager.

"Since when do we allow pirates on our cabaret!?" You whisper-yelled at the man.

The heels made you taller than him, and the way you were staring him down sent a shiver down his spine. The man was gripping his board with the show instructions as he struggled to give you a response.

"I guess we do when- when they pay well we do..."

You weren't prissy, much less were you an elitist, but pirates... they disgusted you. When you began working at the cabaret the owner allowed pirates in. Those nights were treacherous, to say the very least. The harassment, bottle throwing and disrespect for the art rose through the roof on those nights, so pirates and their crews were banned effectively from watching the shows. Except the ones whose pockets were deep, apparently.

You slumped back on your chair and held the bridge of your nose between your thumb and index finger as you sighed.

"Tell me I'm the first one, please, tell me I get to get this over with and fuck off home."

The stage manager scoffed.

"I don't know what would overcome the Boss to somehow put you first... You're the last one." The man informed.

He had the habit of doing this. You were his golden goose, the cherry at the top, as he liked to say, so you were always last, because everyone stayed to watch you.

That was the only time where being the favourite sucked.

"Babygirl, you're first, you're on in 40 seconds." The man said, and your colleague applied some powder hurriedly and walked to the big red curtains.

You watched as she stepped out to her signature intro song with a fake smile that hid how fucking terrified she was of the pirates.

Usually sets came and went as quickly as a snap of the fingers, but this one time, the one time you were curious to hear about, seemed to drag on for ever and ever.

"Thank y'all for tonight, you were lovely!"

As soon as you heard those words and saw the curtains move, you stood up.

"Evelyn, 60 seconds 'till you're on!" the stage manager called to your next colleague as you walked towards Babygirl, held her hands and looked her in the eye.

"So? How were they!?" You asked, barely even letting her catch her breath.

"You know what? Not that bad..." She said, sounding surprised by her own statement "I get the feeling they were just kicked out of every bar in town and came here to drink. They were excited and there was quite a lot of ruckus and cheering but I think the main focus were the drinks... There was this clown dude in the back that seemed very desinterested though." Your colleague explained, as you both walked to her vanity and she began taking off all of the paraphernelia that decorated her.

You furrowed your brows. That was surprising... But it made sense, somehow. They might've been behaving just for the sake of not being thrown out again and running out of alcohol for the night.

Your colleague looked at you up and down.

"You're going with Cherry Pie today?" She asked.

You kept a couple personas in your pocket, to keep it interesting. You liked to call it "The Burlesque Sisters", except each one of them was played by you. It kept people interested and coming back for more, wanting to get a peek at each sister.

You looked down at your attire: it was a red corset with wine-coloured felt details and a heart-shaped neckline. You wore a miniskirt that was not at all intricate, as it came off in the very beginning of the set, long black gloves with red feathery apliques on the hem, black stockings, and a pair of beautiful red platmform heels with guilded details. Your makeup matched the get up perfectly: a bold red lip with a dark red liner, gold sparkles decorating your face, as well as gold eyeshadow on your waterline, and a killer cat-like black winged liner. You were always keen on having your hair up, as you felt it was the perfect hairdo to keep eyes focused on your body and on your movements.

Cherry Pie was a fan favourite, no doubt. So you were a little reluctanct on bringing her out, afraid that the pirates would keep coming back for her (cocky of you, you were aware), but it was too late to change.

It wasn't long before you heard Evelyn's typical goodbye quote. She came in strutting in the room, hapilly removing several bills from various parts of her attire.

"Good tippers!" She said with a smile.

"Cherry Pie! You're on in two minutes!" The stage director called.

Whoever went next to Evelyn got a little more time before going in, as the staff needed to clean up her glitter sprayed across the floor.

"So? How was it?" You asked, raising your brows.

"Oh, it was great! They weren't exactly respectful but they tipped really well and they were very engaged! Except for this clown dude at the back, but I didn't bother much with him." Evelyn said with a shrug as she took off her earrings.

You stood up with a pensive face and straighened your outfit, suddenly becoming curious about this clown guy that seemed to be uninterested by women in very little clothing dancing in front of him. You walked to the curtains, waiting for the stage manager to give you your cue.

When you heard the first beats of your intro song you strutted in, one foot in front of the other, hands on your waist and a big, flirty smile. You winked at the crowd as the big stage lights lit you up.

You lifted your arms up as if to say "I'm here!" and popped out your hip.

"Welcome, to the Cherry Pie show!" You said, earning a bunch of cheers, and then hit the Beety Boop pose, placing your hands on your knees and popping out your ass as you winked.

The clown your colleagues had mentioned wasn't hard to spot: this wasn't a simple crowd, for sure, but he was definitely the one that stood out the most. In a good way... you'd argue.

However, as you introduced yourself, you could see him look up: his head lifted from the fist that it previously rested on and his eyes sparkled. You couldn't relate to the desinterest the others had reported, and you wondered if you had particularly piqued his interest - or if he was just tired of the position he was in and decided to switch (although the glint in his eye said your initial theory was correct).

You carried on with the performance, keeping a special eye out for the pirate clown.

You slowly undid your corset, opening it to reveal a tighter, smaller corset, flashing the crowd with an expression that said "oopsie!". There were some groans and there were some laughs at the trick. You discarded the corset you had taken off and went around the room collecting bills, as you danced suggestively and lip synced to your song.

As you walked closer to the clown you bit your glove and slid it off, revealing your long, red press on nails. You repeated the process on the other glove and discarded them, earning a few whistles. You could feel the clown's gaze on you, almost as if it burned.

And so, you decided to tease him: you dragged your nail along his jaw. The clown somewhat leaned into your touch, and although the music was loud, you could swear you heard him groan.

You continued you act and, in no time, your songs came to an end and it was time to say goodbye to your surprisingly pleasant guests.

"Y'all have been a lovely crowd! I've been Cherry Pie, Cherry Kisses!" You yelled, touching your ass with one heel as you blew them a kiss.

There was standing up, whistling, cheers, and a couple noises from displeased people, sad that the show was over. One thing was for sure, the clown guy had a hunger for you - and he wouldn't let you go so easily.

As you disappeared behind the curtains, the man stood up, making his way to the back.

"Sir you can't come in-" The bouncer began, but instantly shut up when Buggy flashed him a wad of Berry. Any ammount of money was worth being sacrified if it meant it was used to see you.

Evelyn and Babygirl had gone home already, so when you heard footsteps you assumed it was your bodyguard ready to escort you home.

"Hey Dante I'm not ready yet, give me 5 just to take off the makeup and put on some clothes!" You said, not looking behind you as you worked on getting the glitter off.

"I think you look marvellous just like that."

When you didn't recognize the voice, you were startled and stood up, looking at the man that had spoken, to find the clown guy leaning against the door frame.

You couldn't not remember who he was...

"What are you- How did you get here?" You asked, pointing at him and squinting your eyes.

"Honey, I've got plenty Berry, and I don't mind spending it on you." He said, arms stretched out as he stepped towards you.

You raised your brow and crossed your arms in front of your chest as you analyzed him from head to toe.

"This isn't a strip club, you can't pay for a room with me or whatever. And it's Cherry, not Honey." You said, attitude dripping from your voice.

"Yes, unfortunately it isn't a strip club, but I'm not here for that. I want to offer you a spot. On my crew, on my show." The man offered with that familiar glint in his eye.

"Why, pray tell, would I want to go be a pirate? The pay here is amazing, I love my job and I am comfortable." You asked.

The clown admired how unafraid you were of him. People usually kept their distance, ran away, stuttered near him... But there you were, facing him and challenging him. He absolutely had to have you.

The Captain was desperately looking for reasons to give you, until his eyes landed on a book you had on your vanity. You liked to entertain yourself and read on breaks from shows and happened to leave them on your vanity.

"A book about marine life?" The man asked, pointing at the book "Honey, why read about it, when you can see it. Join me and you'll see all of the life you read about in those pages, up close. I'll equal what they pay you here- fuck it, I'll double it."

Now that was tempting... But you couldn't help but wonder why...

"Why do you want me so much?"

Now that was a damn good question.

"I've never seen my men this focused on something. It's good for morale and it gives them something to do other than a big mess on my ship. Plus, we kinda need a gymnast on the show and you fit the bill."

Bullshit. He just bullshit his way out of the truth - in reality he just wanted to have you close, he wanted to be able to look at you up close whenever.

"Your men? Your ship? What are you, a Captain?" You asked genuinely.

The male scoffed and took another step towards you.

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

You shrugged as an answer, your face showing a definite sign of absolutely not giving a shit about the answer.

"My name is Captain Buggy, or Buggy the Clown." Buggy, as he introduced himself, detached a hand and had it fly over to you.

"Woah! You're a Devil Fruit user!" You said, amused to finally meet one, and shook the flying hand.

Although detached, your touch on him still managed to send shivers down his spine.

"So, Miss 'Cherry Pie', have we got a deal?"

You pretended to think for a bit. The answer was obviously yes (more pay and you got to be close to the sea!?), but you didn't want to seem too eager.

"I believe we do Captain Buggy."

The way you said his name made him wonder how many other ways he could make you say it... It sent another shiver down his spine, and the captain asked himself if it had been a good idea to invite you on board - Buggy didn't know how long he'd be able to keep his hands off of you.

When the owner of the Cabaret heard of your departure he nearly fainted. The man tried to negotiate but he couldn't possibly match what Buggy had offered you, so the boss reluctantly let you go and you embarked on a new journey.

The beginning was a little rocky, some of the crew members got a little touchy and Buggy had to threaten them multiple times, but after you started standing your ground and threteaning them yourself, you gained their respect.

Normally you wouldn't be so brave as to stand up to several big men experienced in fighting, but you knew the Captain had your back, and that gave you a lot of confidence.

The first time there was a show, Buggy invited you to sit back and watch, so you could learn how it all worked before being part of it, and you had to admit, seeing the man take control of everything... it was kind of hot. Those words danced in your tongue when he asked you what you thought about the show afterwards, but you decided to keep it to yourself.

"This good enough Captain?" You asked innocently, fixing your corset so your boobs stood out.

Buggy thanked his heavy makeup for concealing his blush, and the coat for hiding his growing boner as he inspected your outfit from head to toe. He wanted to say no. He wanted to cover you up with a long, large coat and send you out with it so only he could see you like that, but alas, that wasn't possible...

"Uh yeah, Y/N, you look fantastic." The Captain said, not able to look away from your chest.

You giggled and thanked him, before getting ready to step out. The tent was particularly full that day, as people gathered, curious about the new act that had been announced.

As the cheers, claps and whistles reached Buggy's ears backstage, he felt a sense of jealousy spread in his body. Oh it was a bad idea to hire you, for sure...

When the show came to an end and the guests had left, Buggy sat on his throne and counted the Berry they had made.

Suddenly, he heard steps.

"Who the fuck is here and why are you here?" The Captain asked, in a grumpy tone - he very much disliked being interrupted.

"Sorry Captain!"

As soon as he heard your voice it was like a rainbow washed over him. He hated that. He hated how you had so much control over his body, over the way he felt.

"That's okay, thought it was one of the other degenerates. What can I do for ya, sweetheart?" Buggy asked in a completely different tone from the one he had previously spoken in, pleased that you had come talk to him still in your show attire.

"Well I wanted to ask... did I do good?" You asked, biting your lip and holding your hands behind your back nervously.

Oh boy did Buggy want to grab you by the neck and push you against a wall... Seeing you in front of him, nervous and asking for his approval, all while biting your lip... You had no idea how much self control he had not to fuck you dumb.

"Sorry sugar, I couldn't watch the show tonight..." The Captain explained, a sad tone in his voice as he said it.

"Oh..." You replied, a little disappointed "Well, maybe I could give you a private show." You said with a flirty wink.

Buggy smirked and looked at you, supporting his head with his fist.

"Don't make promises you can't handle keeping, princess." Buggy said, boldly.

You chuckled and turned around.

"I can handle everything, Captain."

You could feel Buggy's eyes on you as you walked away, and chuckled lowly when you heard him curse under his breath.

The man turned, huffed and puffed in bed that night, grabbing his crotch at the thought of you, at the way you called him Captain, and at the pretty little teasing quote you'd thrown at him - but he knew that no release would be satisfying - unless you were the one giving it to him. That couldn't be. He had to find a solution.

Little did the man know, the solution would find him soon enough.

Due to his Y/N-induced sleepless night, the following day the man retreated to his living quarters before dinner, in order to get some rest.

You, who didn't know what was going on, grew concerned about the Captain. He was always grumpy, sure, but he was also constantly laughing and full of life, whereas that day he was simply... not.

You knew no one was even supposed to go near his room, let alone visit it when the Captain specified he didn't want to be disturbed. But you were one curious cat - and a worried one too.

As you stood outside of his door, you bit your lower lip, wondering if you should knock or not, but before you could decide for or against it, the Captain had already sensed a presence outside.

"Who has a death wish?" Buggy asked, referring to the person that stood outside of his room.

"T-that would be me, Captain..." You replied, nervously, confident he'd recognize your voice.

Buggy's mind was torn - he looked (and felt) like shit on one hand, but on the other, having you with him in his room all by yourselves... The bottom head thought faster, and he replied with a low "come in".

You opened the creaky door slightly and peeked inside, before walking in.

Buggy laid on the bed, his hair free of the bandana and tied in a low ponytail. He had one arm falling from the bed, and the other covering his eyes, and one leg resting on the bed as the other had his knee bent.

You blushed slightly as you realized he was just wearing his underwear and a large striped shirt.

"Woah..." You said, at the sight of his long hair.

Buggy uncovered his eyes to look at you and followed your gaze. He just chuckled, making you snap back to reality.

"Uh, Sir- Captain," You corrected "are you okay?..."

The light in the room was scarce, the only thing lighting up the space being the moonlight coming in through the hatch. Still, you could see his cocky grin.

"You worried about me, princess?"

You dared walk closer to him, in small, shy steps.

"Well, yes... You didn't seem yourself today..."

Buggy clenched his fists and held himself back with all the strenght possible and imaginary when you put one knee on his bed, making it dip slightly on your end, and placed a hand on his forehead and face.

"Captain, you feel hot!" You said, worriedly.

He was hot alright, but it wasn't a fever that left him like that.

"You know princess, you're right, I haven't been 100% lately, I have been having a little problem..." Buggy admitted, as he licked his lips.

"A p-problem? What problem?" You asked, an uneasy feeling rising within you.

Upon seeing your panicked expression he chuckled.

"A problem with you, dear."

The panic and fear increased even more, and it was visible on your face.

"Don't worry princess, you've done nothing wrong. In fact, quite the opposite... You've been doing all the right things."

You innocently cocked your head to the side.

"I'm- I'm sorry Captain, I'm not sure I'm following..."

The man grinned and groaned when the name left your lips. Such an innocent mouth, that he had imagined doing such sinful things to...

"You see, sweetheart," Buggy began, his hand lightly tracing up the thigh closest to him "you've been driving me crazy. The way you dress, the way you talk, fuck- the way you say my name."

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he imagined you moaning his name. You grew hotter and hotter at each of his words, and all you could focus on was how his hand went higher and higher on your thigh. And without noticing, in your head, you began begging for his hand to just fucking hurry it up and grab your ass.

"W-well Captain, I guess it's only right that I fix the problem, I caused it after all, hm?" You suggested bringing your other leg up to the bed and across him, so you were straddling his lap.

"Oh princess, I don't know if you wanna get into it..." His hands found the place you wanted him to find.

The man grabbed your ass with such force that you couldn't help but moan.

"I'm pretty sure that I do..." You said in a husky voice, as you felt his cock harden under you.

Before he could speak, you opened your mouth once more.

"You know, Captain," now that you knew he enjoyed it, you were going to exploit the hell out of the name "I like the way you take control of the show..." you paused once more and leaned in to whisper in his ear "How about you take control of me like that?"

It was as if your voice brought him the full 10 hours of sleep he needed. It was like energy washed over him and he felt... alive. More than ever.

The clown was quick to switch positions, straddling your waist and pinning your hands above your head, slowly riding up the top you wore. Buggy licked his lips as he stared at your exposed stomach.

"You're playing with fire, princess. Little girls that play with fire get hurt..." Buggy teased with a glint in his eye.

"Then hurt me."

His lips glued to yours instantly, in a violent, hungry kiss. Buggy didn't know it was possible for someone to drive him even crazier, but you did it. You pushed him to the very edge and he had never craved something so much in his life.

Buggy's hands were all over your body - grabbing your thighs, slapping your ass, caressing your waist... He wanted to take in every piece of you. As he touched you, the Captain slowly took off pieces of your clothes, and when you realized, you were naked under him.

You blushed slightly, tugging at the hem of his shirt so he'd understand.

"We're not speaking now, dollface?" The man asked as he removed his one piece of clothing "Cat got your tongue? Hm?"

You ran your hands down his torso and bit your lip - he was a lot more toned than he let on.

"Just... admiring the view." You said before catching his lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

Buggy detached one of his hands, and you shrieked into the kiss as his cold fingers made their way inside your panties. He teased your entrance, until you tugged on his hair as if to say "hurry up, fucker".

"Don't be-" He paused, shoving two fingers into you slowly "-impatient."

You sighed deeply and moved your hips against his fingers. Buggy looked down at you move in amusement.

"You know pretty girl, we have another problem at hand..." The Captain said, tracing your face with his fingers until he reached your neck.

"W-what is it?" You asked, through half lidded eyes and in between moans.

Buggy gripped your throat, making you gasp and arch your back. He leaned closer to your ear so he could whisper.

"I don't know if I wanna fuck you like this to see your pretty little face when you cum on my cock, or shove your face in the pillow and fuck you from behind."

"A-as long as you make me cum Captain..." You said with a smirk.

You whined as he removed his fingers and licked them clean.

"Are you doubting my capabilities, princess?"

You had no time to reply, as he reattached his hand and used it to flip you around and pull your ass up in the air. You gripped the sheets, your cheek against his pillow taking in the smell of your Captain, as you watched him take his placed bbehind you.

Buggy took his sweet time palming your ass and admiring it.

When he took out his cock, you couldn't see it from the angle, but you knew it was big and girthy, because when his hard lenght smacked against your ass, you knew you were in for it.

"Fuck..." You breathed out.

Buggy chuckled.

"It's not even in yet princess, save the cursing for later..." He teased, running the tip of his cock up and down your folds until he himself couldn't hold it any longer.

The Captain wanted to slam into you and fucked the words out of your mouth, but it was your first time with him and he didn't want to risk being too rough or hurting you.

So, with furrowed eyebrows and agape mouth, he pushed into you slowly, until he bottomed. It took all of his strenght to pull out and shove his cock back in in a slow pace.

Once he found you were comfortable with the pace, he began speeding up and, when your moans became loud and you called for his name, Buggy lost all control.

The man gripped your hips like a madman and fucked you like his life depended on it.

"Oh fuck- you're such a good girl Y/N- you take me so well..." He praised as he gripped your ass and smacked it a couple times, earning a yelp from you.

"Y-you feel so good Captain!" You moaned, gripping the sheets beside your head.

One of Buggy's hand detached and found your clit, rubbing it at a consistent, fast rhythm. The man was good. You wanted to savour the moment as long as possible but for the first time you found it hard to not cum.

Maybe it was his skill, maybe it was his demeanor, and maybe it was his appearance, but the truth was that you couldn't get enough of him fucking you.

"Buggy I think- I think I'm gonna cum-" You whined, as a familiar feeeling began washing over you.

"A-Already princess?"

Buggy kept up the confident persona, but deep down he was thanking every diety in existance because he didn't know how long he could last, with you moaning for him and tightening around his cock like he had imagined so many times.

"Please... may I cum?"

"Do it!" Was all he could say.

Your legs faltered and the Captain had to hold you up as he fucked his cum into you, riding both of your orgasms out.

Small groans and whimpers filled the room as the both of you came down from your highs. Buggy hissed as he removed his soft cock from you.

The man helped you lay down on the bed and wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him as he closed his eyes.

"Hey Buggy?" You called, as you played with his hair and admired how long his lashes were.

"Hm?..." He sleepily asked.

"When you hired me, was this your intention?" You asked, biting your lip.

The man didn't open his eyes, he just chuckled.

"I can't say it was completely innocent... I wanted you close to me." Buggy explained with a smirk.

He then grabbed your ass and pulled you even closer, causing you to shriek and giggle.

"I guess you got it, Captain..."

919 notes · View notes

torialefay · 3 months

Text

📞 “Bye Basket” 💬

bangchan x reader (f); drabble, fluff

✨summary: chan is leaving for tour, which means having to leave you behind. he makes sure to do for you what he can before he leaves.

✨wc: 900

✨warnings: none

• “Christopher, let me innnnn,” you pounded on the door of the bedroom you both shared.

• “Give me 1 more minute!” you heard him panic from inside.

• ‘What could he possibly be doing that he wouldn’t want me to see? I literally see his bare ass every day,’ you thought.

• He had been the perfect little boyfriend lately. Cooking meals, complimenting you 24/7, and making it a point to cuddle you for an hour every night. Hell- the two of you had just gotten back from a haunted house because YOU wanted to go. There’s no way Chan would have picked that shit.

• But he knew how much you loved Halloween. Even if he didn’t.

• He knew how this was your favorite time of the year. Even if it wasn’t his.

• And he also knew that he was leaving tomorrow. Even if he didn’t want to.

• Tomorrow he was headed out to begin his next world tour, and although you were so so proud of him, your heart hurt. How could it not?

• You actively tried not to think about it, but it was hard. You’d gone through it before, so you knew everything would be okay, but it definitely would not be fun.

• “Okay, okay, okay,” you heard Chan say as he waddled toward the door. He unlocked it and pulled the door wide open.

• “You good?” you asked, still confused as to what was going on.

• “Yeah, look!” he smiled, swooping both of his hands toward the bed in a grand gesture to focus your gaze there.

• You walked toward the bed to see a small basket resting on top. Inside of it was… laundry? Just a bunch of black clothes. Albeit very neatly folded black clothes.

• ‘Proud of him for that one I guess.’

• “What am I looking at?” you raised an eyebrow.

• “Wellll, I know you wanted a Boo Basket,” he tilted his head to the side and opened his eyes wide, putting on a look as if to say ‘See, I pay attention.’

“But I thought with me leaving, a Bye Basket would be a bit better.”

• You looked back down to the small basket in front of you. You carefully went through the contents.

◦ Your favorite of all of his black hoodies. You remembered how his ears had turned red when you told him how handsome he looked in it.

◦ A small roller ball of his favorite cologne. Classic Chan to get you your own. Hell, he loved it so much, he’d probably be excited if you just decided to wear it now. Scratch that, he’d love that his signature scent had become yours too.

◦ 3 packs of your favorite candy. I guess he was well-trained at this point. He immediately got them for you every time he went out to grab something- even if you specifically said you didn’t want anything.

◦ A heavy silver chain-link bracelet. You carefully examined it, thinking it was weird he’d think to give you this considering you already wore this exact one. The one he created that says “STAY” across the front. He wore it often too. ‘Weird’… You looked down closer.

No, this was a special one. It didn’t say “STAY.” Instead, in his own handwriting font, the inscription “CHRISTOPHER.”

◦ A small polaroid photo. It was one he had insisted on taking a few nights ago when you were cuddled up on the couch. He gave in and watched a scary movie with you. Obviously it was such a special moment to him that he was willingly watching one, so he needed it to be a memory.

◦ A black… battery? Charger?

• “What is this thing?,” you asked, looking up to Chan.

• “It’s a battery extender. For your phone! So even if you’re out all day, you can still answer my calls and let me hear that sweet voice,” he beamed, obviously proud of himself.

• “Channie, this is perfect. You didn’t have to do all of this!”

• “But I did. I’m so so so sorry I have to leave you, my love.” He sat down on the bed, pulling you along to sit on his lap.

• “I’m so sorry that my job takes me away from you, but hopefully this will help suffice until I get back.”

• You cupped his face and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll manage.” You couldn’t help but smile.

----

• After Chan had left the next day, you went home to sulk.

• First plan of action: put that hoodie on.

• As you unfolded it and went to throw it over your head, a white slip of paper fell out.

• The final gift in the basket: a letter.

◦ “If you’re reading this letter, then it means I’m probably gone. I want you to know that wherever I travel, a piece of your heart is always going there with me. I promise I miss you more than you will ever miss me. I can’t wait to get back home to you already. This isn’t goodbye for long. I will be back before you know it. Love you forever. -Channie.”

———————————————————————————

If you enjoyed, please consider liking and re-blogging <3

check out my masterlist for more ✨

659 notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months

Text

The Taste of Temptation || DR3

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Summary: Tensions arise when there is chemistry with a man far older than you but will age be enough to deny what is definitely there? Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, age gap (13 years) reader is 20, dirty talk, pet names, assplay WC: 5.6k F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

Pre-Season Testing - Bahrain You prayed the white polo shirt went unnoticed by everyone as you wandered aimlessly around the paddock on your first day. The ‘induction’ into your role was nothing more than a three minute video about paddock etiquette and you still weren’t quite sure what it was you were meant to be doing. You were also too embarrassed to admit you had no clue what you were doing so you didn’t dare ask for help either.

Daniel watched you from the outdoor seating in Red Bull’s hospitality and he smirked to himself as you turned around twice before deciding on a direction that put you right into his path. The moment he saw you meandering around like a lost kitten he had felt a protective instinct snap into place and when you passed by his table he couldn’t help but steal your attention.

You frowned as a sharp whistle sounded beside you and you turned around until you spotted a man grinning back at you. It was impossible not to recognise him with his signature cheeky grin inviting you closer and you pointed to yourself as you looked around to see if he was smiling at someone else.

“Yeah, you,” he laughed, rising from his seat and grabbing the opened can of Red Bull from the table. “Where are you heading?”

“Um, I don’t know,” you said as you nervously played with your lanyard.

“I can help you find your way. Do you have a name, kitten?”

“Kitten?”

“Hmm, that was a good guess.”

“What? No, my name’s not kitten. And I’m not exactly lost. I just don’t know where I’m meant to be.” Your shoulders slumped as you pulled out the piece of paper in your pocket and tried once again to make sense of it but it was plucked from your fingers.

“Pretty sure that’s the definition of lost. Okay so, 10am in the pit, looks like you’re with me, kitten,” he said as he balled up the paper and lobbed it into the recycling bin.

“But I needed th-”

“Nonsense, you’ve got yourself the best travel guide now. I’ll protect you from the dangerous animals that roam wild in this place.”

You couldn’t remember hearing about any dangerous animals when you arrived in the humid country but the thought brought a rising panic that had you take a step closer to the Red Bull driver. He grinned as he threw an arm over your shoulder and tucked you into his side.

“There’s one right there,” he whispered in your ear as he pointed to Carlos who was leaving the Ferrari motorhome. “Careful, he definitely bites. And if left hungry, then no one is safe.”

A laugh bubbled up before you covered your mouth to silence the sound but it had already drawn the other driver’s attention, or maybe it was Daniel’s much louder laugh that he barked. The Spanish driver sauntered over and shook hands with his competitor before eyeing you up with a grin.

“Who's your friend?”

“This is-”

“Not kitten,” you interrupted as you held your hand out. “It’s Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Carlos,” he said as he shook your hand before cocking an eyebrow at Daniel curiously. “Kitten?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Daniel said as his hand slipped down and you relaxed under the comforting pressure of his palm on your lower back. “Only I can call her that. I’m just going to give her the grand tour, I’ll catch you later, mate.”

You smiled at Carlos and gave him a small wave before you were once more making your way through the paddock. It was impossible not to laugh as Daniel joked and teased anyone and everything along the way. He had a charisma that few did and you completely forgot about work or even where he was taking you until he came to a stop.

“You have arrived at your destination,” he said with a dramatic bow as he pointed to the stage where some interviews were happening.

“Thanks, though I still have no idea what I’m meant to be doing here,” you said as you worried on your bottom lip nervously.

His eyes seemed to darken as he watched your bottom lip be pulled between your teeth and your stomach flipped at the unexpected tension that rose.

“I can keep you company,” he offered. “Wouldn’t want my little kitten getting lost again.”

The pet name seemed to be sticking around, and the more he said it the more you wanted to hear it. “Don’t you have your own job to do?”

He didn’t seem too happy at the reminder and seemed to nod, shrug and shake his head all at once. “Maybe…how about getting a drink after? I want to see you relaxed, and in something a little more…you,” he said as his fingers traced the hem of your FIA issued polo shirt.

“I can’t,” you replied when your voice finally worked.

“Why not? You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

“No.” He visibly relaxed at the answer and smiled brightly once more. “I’m only twenty.”

“Age is just a number, kitten.”

You already knew his age, but the gap of over a decade didn’t seem that far with his carefree attitude and humorous outlook.

You looked at your feet as heat scorched your cheeks. “I meant it’s illegal for me to drink here. Not…that.”

Daniel frowned and mentally ran through the next few weeks of races, the Bahrain and Saudi Arabian Grand Prix both having the same drinking age of 21 instead of 18. The frown eased as a smirk replaced it and he dipped his head closer to yours to whisper in your ear, “you’re in for a treat.”

“What’s that?” Curiosity getting the better of you.

“You, me, Aus GP. I’ll give you a night to remember.”

You bit your lip as your imagination ran wild beyond just having a drink but before you could reply your name was called by the woman who had assigned the job to you. You were grateful for it too as you stepped back and took a deep breath to steady yourself. Daniel was dangerous to be around, his allure made you forget what you were meant to be doing and you couldn’t afford to lose this job.

“I’ll have to take a rain check but thank you for showing me around,” you said with a small wave before rushing over to the lady waiting impatiently.

“You’re late.” She thrust a clipboard into your hands and tapped a finger on the timetable. “These are the interview orders. Find the drivers on the list and make sure they are backstage and ready. Got it?”

You nodded and scanned the table to see who was needed first and found Carlos’ name along with Lando Norris and Logan Sargeant. Thankfully the tour with Daniel had taken you past their motorhomes and you only hoped they were there as you started your search.

Round Two - Saudi Arabia You only just managed to duck in time to dodge the football that flew your way and a string of apologies quickly followed.

“Sorry, I wasn’t aiming for you, I swear,” Oscar apologised again as he jogged over to collect the ball.

“Nice reflexes though,” Lando pointed out with a grin. “Wanna play? Piastri could use all the help he can get, as you can see.”

“I’m terrible, trust me, you don’t want me on your team. I’m just good at dodging hazards.”

“Like Danny?” Lando joked. “He was looking for you.”

You had seen the missed calls from him but had been too busy to return them. “Is he a hazard then?”

You had ended up spending a lot more time with the drivers than you had expected with your job. You would even go so far as to say you were friends with some of them, mostly Oscar, Lando, Yuki and Logan since they were only a year or two older than you.

“Nah, he’s just protective of you for some reason.” You cocked an eyebrow up and Lando stumbled over his words. “We would all protect you, if you needed it, of course, we wouldn’t just, you know, leave you to fend for yourself. Daniel’s just a little more…Oscar?”

You looked to Oscar for an answer as Lando had but Daniel’s fellow Australian driver shifted uncomfortably and focused on the ball at his feet. “Possessive.”

Lando snapped his finger and nodded. “That’s the word I was looking for. Did he have ‘a talk’ with you last week?”

Oscar nodded with a grimace and you frowned at the sight of it on your friend's face. “What kind of talk?”

“Nothing, just racing stuff,” he lied, a fake reassuring smile plastered on his face. “Should we start making a move?”

You checked your watch and found there was still plenty of time to get the boys to the media pit but they were already walking ahead when you looked back up. You trusted that they would arrive there without too many distractions to make them late and instead headed to the Red Bull motorhome.

You tapped the back of your knuckles on the door with Daniel’s name and the hard line of your lips pressed together vanished as his accent welcomed you inside.

“Kitten, I wasn’t expecting you,” he greeted as he sat shirtless on the couch in the driver room, country music playing from a speaker in the corner. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

His body was a distraction and you had to look away, but there was no avoiding the scent of his cologne that lingered in the air and you had to shake your head to rid yourself of the intrusive thoughts. You crossed your arms as you stiffened your spine, remembering why you were there in the first place. “Did you say something to Oscar?”

“I’ve said lots to him,” he said as he stood up. His broad chest filled your vision and your eyes drifted over the definitions of his muscles before focusing on the tattoos that decorated his skin. “You’ll have to be more specific, kitten.”

“I don’t know, he was just acting weird,” you admitted as your hands dropped to your side. “And Lando mentioned some talk you had.”

“That’s not very specific,” he chuckled as he stepped closer.

Taking a deep breath, you dared to drag your eyes up his body until you reached those warm brown eyes of his. “Did you talk to them about me?”

He shrugged innocently but the look in his eyes was anything but. “Once or twice.”

“Why? They’re my friends.”

“Good, that’s all they should be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means they will only be your friends,” he said through a cocky smile, “if they know what’s good for them.”

You tipped your head back to glare at him for what he insinuated. “You’re not my father.”

“You’re young, but you’re not that young,” he laughed as he circled you and whispered in your ear. “Oh, the things I would do to you if you were just a little older.”

The air in your lungs froze as your stomach somersaulted and you jolted back when his fingertips trailed up your arms. Goosebumps broke over your skin at the light touch and the breath you had held turned to a soft sigh. “Tell me.”

“That wouldn’t be a good idea, kitten,” he said as the lock on the door clicked into place behind you.

“Why?” You sounded as needy as you suddenly felt. This dance had become a familiar routine over the last three weeks but it had never gone further than a few flirty lines whispered in quiet corridors or text messages late at night.

“Because I want to do bad things to you.”

You turned to face him and it left your lips mere inches apart. All it would take was a subtle shift onto your tiptoes and you would be able to taste the lips that had tempted you since he found you on your first day. It took all your strength to resist being the first to give in to the pull between you but you did allow yourself a small indulgence as you traced the lettering of the tattoo across his collarbone.

“How bad?”

His throat bounced with the deep swallow he took and he caught your hand before it could reach his racing pulse. “Very bad.”

Your thighs clenched together at the gravel in his voice and you forgot why you entered his room as curiosity controlled your thoughts. Emboldened by the heat in his gaze, your free hand followed the contour of his hip to the deep V that disappeared into his jeans and his chest rose with a shaky breath. “Like…?”

“Kitty…” He licked his lips as he folded his hand over yours and pushed it lower. “I would destroy you.” He guided your palm over his jeans and your eyes widened at the size of the hard length you felt contained beneath the denim. A dark chuckle teased your ear as he watched your reaction before continuing. “Sweet, little kitten. I’d stretch every hole and make them mine.”

He curled an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to his body before his large hands trailed down to grip your backside, squeezing them roughly. You gasped as his fingers teased over the seam that ran down your ass and your core clenched at the thought of taking him in such a way.

“No one’s ever fucked you there have they?” he asked knowingly, his voice dropping lower as he turned you around and ground his erection against your ass. “Innocent, little kitten. I would work you up to it, don’t you worry. I bet I could make you cum with my tongue first, then again with my fingers, before you begged me to fuck you. And you’d take me so well, I just know it. You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you, kitten?”

Your head fell back to his shoulder with a moan as your eyes fluttered shut. “Yes…”

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckled before he pulled away. “But you’re too young.”

If his words didn’t send a shiver down your spine it was the sound of the door unlocking before it swung open. Daniel leaned so casually against the frame like the last two minutes had never happened but his eyes were tortured as he looked at the glowing green emergency exit sign at the other end of the motorhome. “Run while you can, kitten.”

It was impossible to look at Daniel without hearing his sordid words echoing in your head. All weekend you were tortured with the images he had placed there and your nights were spent tossing and turning in your room as you remained unsatisfied by your fingers.

He seemed to sense it too when he passed you in the paddock.

“You look tired,” he commented quietly as you escorted Lando to an interview. He had been quick to divert his own course of travel when he saw you walking beside the British driver and positioned himself between you two. “Trouble sleeping?”

“It’s just the humidity,” you lied but his smirk only grew.

“Won’t have to worry about that next week. Australia brings a different kind of heat. I can’t wait to show you it.” His arm draped over your shoulder. “Get that drink together. See where the night leads.”

You stumbled and would have fallen if he had tightened his grip, pulling you even closer to him so his lips brushed your cheek. “I thought I was too young,” you shot back quietly after you recovered your footing.

“You can drink at 18 there.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” he laughed as he slipped away with a wink. “I hope your sleep is more satisfying tonight.”

“Is your aircon broken?” Lando asked, a look of concern etched on his frowning face. “You can have my room if you need, I can bunk with Carlos - he probably misses having someone to cuddle.”

“Why would you bunk with Carlos? Not that we need to, since my aircon is working fine, but we could’ve just shared your bed.”

Lando scoffed a laugh and jutted a thumb over his shoulder in the direction Daniel had gone in. “Yeah, if I want to wake to a castration, which I don’t.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “At least you still talk to me. I have hardly seen Yuki since he spoke to Danny before the qualifiers. I’m pretty sure they weren’t discussing the weather.”

Lando scratched the tuft of hair on his chin nervously. “That chat was about the TikTok you guys made. I mean, I found it hilarious but playing twister put you two in some pretty close positions.”

“It was just a game.”

“I know that, hell, everyone knows that.” Lando shook his head and looked around before leaning closer. “You know he’s protective of you-”

“Possessive,” you corrected.

“Possessive, whatever,” he said with a dismissive wave. “Just try not to drag too many of us into the line of fire, okay?”

You felt guilty for disturbing the peace, or friendships, and nodded sullenly. “Can you find your own way to the pit? I’m not feeling too well.”

“Want me to walk you to the med bay?”

You waved off the look of concern. “No, I’ll get another strike on my name if you’re late to your interview. Go on, I’ll be fine.”

He reluctantly left and you made your way to the admin building so you could beg for a different position, one that didn’t involve interacting with the drivers. The last thing they needed in their busy lives was more drama.

When you swapped out roles with a colleague you thought things would quieten down but your phone was pinging nonstop with the drivers asking why they had some random guy walking them to their appointments. You resorted to silencing the device until after the race was over.

Incident investigation, collision between DR3 and YT22 - noted

The notification came across your laptop followed by an email with the request for the first of the drivers to appear before the stewards. With a sigh, you closed the laptop and went in search of Daniel so you could escort him to where he needed to go since his race had ended early with a crash on the 50th lap.

It was like déjà vu standing in front of his door, tapping your knuckles quietly, but this time his welcome was colder and when you stepped inside there was no smile to greet you.

“Where were you?” he asked as he tossed his phone on the table, your name on the screen with all of his messages that you hadn’t replied to.

“Sorry, I was working and my phone was on silent.” You shifted on your feet as you fought the urge to reach for him and comfort him. “Are you alright? Is Yuki okay?”

“Why don’t you go ask him?”

“Maybe I will,” you said as you started to turn back to the door but he was there in an instant, shutting it closed and sliding the lock into place.

“You don’t go near him. And you definitely don’t make stupid little videos with him.”

Daniel stalked you across his room, taking a step for every one you retreated until your back hit the wall. Still he didn’t stop. Not until he filled your vision and his hands took yours, lifting them above your head and pinning them to the wall.

“You want to get knotted into positions like that, you come see me, kitten. Not Yuki, or any of those other guys.”

Your heart threatened to beat right out of your chest but it wasn’t fear that had it racing when he shoved his knee between your legs and spread them. A soft whimper escaped your parted lips as your skirt rode higher and his thigh brushed over the lace of your panties.

“You want that, don’t you?” he teased as his cheek rested against yours, keeping his lips out of your reach. “Has it been keeping you up at night, kitten?”

You screwed your eyes closed so you didn’t have to see the smirk on his face when you nodded but you felt the breath of his quiet laugh on your neck. “Don’t be shy now. Tell me what you need.”

You bit your lip to keep from voicing what you had fantasised but it didn’t stop him from feeling your body betray you. Your legs tightened around him without thinking and your hips rolled over his thick thigh with a whine for more but he used his body to pin you to the wall, unable to move and finish what you started.

“Is this what you came here for? Because you know I can make you feel good.”

“Yes,” you gasped as you felt every inch of his entire body against yours. But then reality crept in as the throb in your core faded without the friction and you shook your head. “No, stop, I can’t think.”

“Don’t think, just tell me what you need, kitten.”

“The stewards,” you reminded yourself as you pulled your hands free and planted them on his chest. “I have to take you to the stewards, Danny.”

He rocked back on his heels as you pushed against him before he conceded a step back and you could breathe again. Outside of this room he was friendly but inside it he was consuming.

“You are so bloody confusing,” you muttered as you pulled your skirt back into place.

“How so?” he asked over his shoulder as he unlocked the door.

“You act like you want me some of the time and then…it’s just confusing.”

His hand rested on the doorknob but made no effort to turn it. “I want you all of the time, I wanted you from the moment I saw you. I’m only sometimes smart enough to stop myself.”

You crossed the room and opened the door yourself, ignoring the warmth of his skin as you turned the handle he still held. “I wish you would just choose one or the other so I know where I stand. Now let’s go.”

Daniel smirked as you gave him the order to follow and snapped your fingers until he started moving. “Kitty has claws. I like it.”

Round Three - Australia Everywhere you looked you saw Danny’s face, posters of him were pasted to the walls and giant cut outs of his head were held up in the packed crowd. The support for him was unbelievable and he was riding the high as he swaggered down the fan walk, signing hats and shirts. It was impossible not to watch his bright smile from where you were organising the tv crews into the order of their live time slots.

The tension between him and the drivers seemed to have eased since you moved roles and they were all getting along once again when they touched down in Melbourne. The same couldn’t be said for you. It was difficult to breathe in the same room as him, or even look him in the eyes when all you could think of was how close your bodies had been, how close your lips had been.

“What’s your poison?” Danny asked in your ear over the loud music, caging your body between his and the bartop. You could feel his body heat through the thin material of the clubbing dress you wore and leaned back into him as his familiar cologne chased away the scent of stale underground air.

“I heard there was a half decent red, do you have a recommendation?” you teased as you looked at the wine menu and saw his bottle of DR3 among the selection.

“Think you can handle it? It’s aged to perfection, with a strong, full body, and has a bit of a kick to it too.”

“That’s quite the mouthful,” you replied as you turned to face him, your eyes lingering on his lips. “Why don’t I taste it and find out?”

If you hadn’t been in a nightclub full of people you fooled yourself into thinking he might have given into the temptation to kiss you but he had pulled away, keeping his lips busy with the beer he ordered instead. And for yet another night you returned to your hotel room alone and longing for something you shouldn’t have any interest in.

“After party tonight,” Daniel whispered in passing after reaching the end of the fan walk. He was gone before you could give him a reply but you caught the wink he threw over his shoulder.

It was a surprise you still had a job considering you did next to nothing as you lost yourself in the race. Daniel had an extraordinary start and took the lead early on, driving defensively to keep Max from stealing it from him. You weren’t the only one in the office fixated on the race as the tv screens were crowded with colleagues and a collective groan rose when Max caught him on a straight.

“Come on, Danny,” you prayed as the laps trickled away and still he was stuck like glue to Max’s rear wing, the rest of the drivers having a race of their own at least 10 seconds behind. “You can do it.”

“He’s waiting for the final DRS zone,” Gianni said from his cubicle next to yours, barely looking up from the report he was writing. “It’s a good strategy, as long as he has some grip left on his tires.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

The technician finally looked up and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Then he’ll be watching the victory lap from the gravel pit at turn three.”

You rose to your feet as the two Red Bull’s passed the start line and the final lap began. The pen you had been chewing on slipped from your trembling fingers as they came out of turn two and Danny’s rear wing opened, the car flying out of Max’s slipstream.

You couldn’t breathe as they hurtled towards the sharp corner and Danny cut across the front of Max just in time to turn into the apex, the back tires barely keeping the line without swinging out. Then just as the race had begun, Daniel was ahead and fighting to keep it that way until he passed the chequered flag.

An excited scream overpowered your colleague’s more sedate murmurs of praise and you apologised as you sat back into your seat with the widest grin on your face.

“What channel are you covering?” Gianni asked as he held his hand out for the radio on your hip.

“Four, marshalls and incidents,” you said with a frown. “Why?”

“I’ll cover you, go catch the podium.”

“Are you sure?” you asked as you unclipped the radio and placed it into his hand.

He clipped it to his belt and waved a hand. “Race is over, it’ll be quiet. Run while you can.”

You didn’t have to be told twice as you pushed your chair in and closed your laptop before rushing out of the building just in time to see the cars pulling into the pits. Your screams were lost with the home crowd who proudly chanted Danny’s name as he stood on top of his halo and threw his hands in the air.

Even with the helmet still firmly in place you knew exactly what smile it was he wore beneath it, one that was mirrored by yours. Pride, awe, joy. You wished you could share the moment with him alone but you would have to share it with the mass of people screaming for him. He still hadn’t given you an answer, he still hadn’t chosen you.

You watched him thrust the trophy high into the air with the anonymity that came with being surrounded by thousands of fans and you felt a single droplet of champagne reach you as he leapt from the podium to turn his bottle on the crowd. For a moment you thought his eyes had lingered where you were but it was impossible to believe he could see you from the stage he celebrated on.

Slipping from the crowd, you wove your way to the back where you could finally have the space to breathe again before continuing to the exit with the fans whose race didn’t end as well as yours.

Your phone was ringing once again and you watched as it went to voicemail for the third time. You had sent him a congratulatory text when you reached your room and had a shower but after ten minutes of staring at the dress you had chosen for the after party you decided you weren’t going to go.

If he couldn’t make the choice of where the two of you stood, you were going to make it for him - alone in your underwear with a bottle of wine that was not as good as his.

You were halfway through the bottle when someone knocked at your door and you paused the tv showing a replay of the post-race interviews and podium celebration. You wanted to tell whoever it was to go away but the next knock was harder and it was Danny who told you to open up.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you cracked the door open an inch, but he pushed it wider and stepped inside.

“Picking you-” his words drifted off and his steps faltered as the door swung closed and he saw what little you wore. “Wow.”

A slow smile spread over his lips as he closed the distance between you, a large hand drifting behind your back to pull you flush against his body. He smelled fresh from the shower he had taken before leaving his room and your face inched closed to his neck where his cologne was strongest.

“You’re so fucking sexy.”

Your hands found the only space they could between you and you felt the hard planes of his abs beneath your palms as you tried to push him away. “You’re meant to be at your party. You won your home race, don’t you want to celebrate it?”

“Why do you think I’m here?” he said as he cupped your face and stared into your eyes. “I saw you there. In the crowd.” You swallowed as his smile faded and he licked his lips. “I saw you leave.”

“I’m sor-”

“Shh, I’m sorry,” he murmured as his thumbs stroked your cheeks. “I want you so fucking bad.”

A fine tremor worked its way over you in anticipation, the weeks of tension reaching a breaking point where something had to give. “What’s stopping you?”

“People will talk.”

Your tongue wet your lips before you dared him. “Let them.”

His eyes drifted down your body before he dragged them slowly back up. “They’ll say you’re too young.”

“Age is just a number.” You used his own words against him, the words that had lingered in your mind since he had said them to you the first day you met.

“They’ll say you only got your job because of me.”

A small giggle bubbled up as your fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll show them my degree.”

“You have all the answers, don’t you, kitten?” he smirked.

“No, there’s still one I’m waiting on...”

The moment hung suspended in the air as his brown eyes searched your face for the answer and he swore under his breath. “Fuck ‘em all. You’re mine.”

His kiss was everything you imagined it would be. Dominant, overpowering, consuming. It was a riptide pulling you to sea and the only way to survive was to relax and let it take you, no matter where it led.

So you did.

Your fingers tore through his buttons and shoved the shirt off his shoulders as you broke the kiss with the desperate need for air and instead pressed your lips to the inked letters on his collar, of love and life.

“Bad things?” you asked as you peered up from beneath your lashes.

He chuckled as he reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, brushing the straps off your shoulders. His hot breath teased your nipple before his mouth sealed around it and you gasped at the tight sensation that shot straight to your core.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he promised as he grabbed your ass and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “Very, very bad things.”

“Tell me,” you begged as he pressed you to the walls, grinding his hips into yours. He nipped your bottom lip and smirked as you rolled your hips in response. “Show me.”

“My innocent, little kitten,” he tutted as his hand wrapped lightly around your throat and your eyes fluttered shut with the small squeeze he gave. “I’ll show you everything, all in good time. Tonight, I want to taste you on my tongue when I make you come. Tonight, I want to hear my name on those lips. Tonight, I want to see just how many times you can come undone before I even fuck you.”

He leaned in closer and you shivered as he breathed in your ear while his fingers brushed aside your panties and you moaned as one teased your ass. “Tomorrow, this is mine.”

Click here for part two.

Tagging: @mloyer @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x you #Daniel Ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo fanfic #Daniel Ricciardo smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic

2K notes · View notes