#you don’t have to agree with me on this
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His shadows know
Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3.8k | Warnings: none
Summary: His shadows knew you were mates before either of you did and they do everything they can to push the two of you together.
Author’s note: happy 2k kick off day!!! 🎉 this is actually the oldest draft I have - I began writing this in October I think? I loved the idea but got stuck for so long on where to take it so shout out to @tsunami-of-tears for reading it and giving me feedback - this story would be lost to time without you thank you thank you thank you
Being a scholar in the Winter Court had several perks - your home had a rich and deep history, you spent most of your time reading, and you became great friends with your High Lord and newly appointed High Lady - Kallias and Viviane. Your friendship had great perks, one of which was their allowance for you to travel with them to the Night Court.
Rhysand had spent centuries keeping up the appearance that it was a terrible place to live, that the people were terrible, everything was terrible, leading to none of the high lords ever spending time in the Night Court. After Velaris became known to the other high lords, Viviane wrote immediately to Mor asking for the chance to see the city of starlight. Mor immediately agreed, also requesting for you to come as well. You and Mor were friendly, but she liked you and knew you would love the city.
The three of you winnowed together, being greeted by Rhys, Feyre, and Mor upon your arrival. After some pleasantries, Kallias and Rhysand started speaking about some political matter, so you slipped out and started wandering around the palace, admiring the beautiful architecture and paintings lining the walls. Many portraits hung in front of you - some depicting battles, some depicting members of the royal family.
You were stopped at a beautiful portrait of their newest addition, Nyx, when you felt a little tug on your arm. You looked down to find the cutest little blob of darkness dancing around your arm. It tickled as it swirled and skittered across your skin. The little shadow made the rounds around your body, swirling around your arms, your waist, your legs - as if it was checking to make sure everything’s okay.
“You are adorable” you whispered to it, when a second and third one appeared. “How many of you are there?” You whispered, unsure if it can even respond.
“There’s no keeping count of them. Or keeping track of them, I suppose.”
The voice startles you and the shadows, who wrap around you, almost trying to guide you to the voice. You turn to see the most devastatingly beautiful male you’ve ever seen - dark, sun-kissed skin covered large muscular arms, massive membranous wings behind him. Light poured behind him allowing the wings to look almost pink from the stretched skin, but everywhere else behind him was cloaked in shadows that moved lazily, slithering across his shoulders.
Hazel eyes look down at you, a smirk on his face.
“Are you in charge of them, I suppose?” You ask, a smile grazing your lips.
“I wouldn’t say that. They don’t always listen to me. They seem to like you, though.”
While you were speaking, a few more joined to inspect you, fast blurs of darkness roaming your skin leaving goosebumps in their cold wake.
“Hmm, maybe they see me as a threat. I can be quite frightening, you know.”
“Frightening? Yes, I can see you’re trying to pinpoint your next target. Unfortunately, I do believe you are wasting your time. Studying Nyx’s portrait won’t help you determine his weaknesses.”
“I’ve actually uncovered quite a lot about his weaknesses from his portrait.”
“Pray tell,” he leans against the wall, studying your face.
“I think his weaknesses include both nap time and bed time, along with his incredibly short legs. Dare I say, he’d be very easy to pick up and maneuver.”
“Unfortunately, you’ve picked a target that is so heavily protected you may never get the chance to see him.”
Your face lights up in delight, “so I am a frightening threat? Why else go through the trouble to hide him from me?”
“Nyx doesn’t like strangers,” his tone was so matter of fact, the shadows peered over his shoulders to watch the exchange.
“Hmm, you could introduce us. Then it’ll be a fair fight.”
“Unfortunately for you, I believe he is napping. And disturbing him from a nap is the worst part of my job.”
“So it is part of your job to wake him up?”
“I have to train him against all these frightening threats that wander the halls.”
“I only see one frightening threat.”
The shadows began dancing between you two, pulling you both closer and closer, until you realized you could put your hand out and touch his face. Your fingers twitched slightly at the intrusive thought.
“And does this frightening threat have a name.”
“Y/n.”
He smiles at your name - you assume he already knew who you were, he just wanted you to say it for whatever reason.
“And does the one who has the terrifying job of waking Nyx have a name?”
“Azriel.”
“And you also aren’t in charge of the shadows, but you provide them with suggestions?”
He laughs as he says, “They usually listen to me, especially when I command them, but sometimes they just find something they like and want to investigate.”
“Is that what happened? They wanted to investigate me?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Did they like what they found out in their investigation?”
“Sometimes they investigate pretty things or things they’ve never seen before. They won’t tell me why they came after you, but they tell me they like you.”
“Can you tell them that I like them? Or can they hear me when I talk to them?”
“They can hear you, you just can’t really hear them.”
“They’re very beautiful.” You were talking about the shadows, of course. Definitely not also about the male in front of you.
“Yes they are.” He says, gazing into your eyes, perhaps speaking about more than just the shadows.
The spell between your shared gaze is broken when a door opens and Mor comes running down the hall. “Oh, good, Az found you. We thought you got lost somewhere,” she sounded out of breath, as if she were roaming the halls for you.
“I’m sorry, Mor, you know I love to wander.” You look at Azriel, his hazel eyes meeting your gaze. “You never know what you’ll find.”
-
It had been a long day. Velaris was stunning, a beautiful gem in an otherwise terrifying sounding court, but you desperately need a warm bath and a few moments of peace. You adored Viviane and Kallias, but you needed to be away from him for a few hours. You needed peace and quiet.
And maybe a few moments to think about the beautiful male you were flirting with earlier.
You prepared yourself a bath, lowering your entire body into the warm water. You tilt your head back, enjoying the warmth on your aching muscles from walking around the palace all day, when you see out of the corner of your eye a tiny little shadow.
“Hello, sweetie,” you coo towards it. You can’t help it - they’re absolutely adorable. They remind you of little pets, but less messy or noisy. One or two of them had followed you around during the day. You weren’t sure if anyone else noticed or not, especially because you didn’t see Azriel again for the rest of the day.
The shadow came to the edge of the bathtub, climbing up your arm, nestling into your hair. “You are a silly little thing aren’t you?” You ask it, with no response. “Will you ever speak to me?” You ask, again with no response. “Will you keep me company?” The shadow didn’t necessarily respond, but you felt the shadow’s agreement as it nestled further into your hair as you sank into the bath once more.
After your bath, with the shadow still keeping you company, you put on a nightgown and decided you wanted to go down to the kitchen to look for some cookies, certain that Rhysand would only have the highest quality of late night snacks. You reiterate your thoughts to the shadow, when the shadow holds you back by your wrist for a moment.
“Is everything alright?” The shadow keeps a hold on you, not letting you go. A moment or two passes, and the shadow lets go, causing you to move forward a little. “I can go now?” You ask, which the shadow ignores again, but doesn’t keep you in place any longer. You walk to the door, opening it only to collide directly into someone.
“I’m so sorry I-“ you’re cut off by the laugh of the beautiful Azriel.
“It’s okay,” he says, and you take this opportunity to glance down and you realize he’s wearing a loose pair of trousers with no shirt on. His bare chest was just as beautiful as the rest of him - black ink trailed across his shoulders in an abstract way that your eyes lingered on. If you weren’t so preoccupied by checking him out, you might have noticed the shadows surrounding him, trying to slow him down.
A small blush creeps down your cheeks as you ask, “is your uh tiny general happy and napping?”
He smirks and says “well I’m not sure about how happy he is, but Cassian is definitely asleep. He’s kept on a separate floor because of how loud he snores.”
You hit him in the chest, “you know I wasn’t talking about - wait he sleeps on a different floor? Is it really that bad?”
He motions for you to follow him up the stairs, and before you’re even halfway up, you hear impossibly loud snoring. “Oh,” you giggle, “yeah I’m not sure how anyone sleeps in the same city block as him.”
“You have no idea. Cassian’s really susceptible to pollen, so during the spring time it’s absolutely ridiculous. We once banned him for a week so we could all sleep.”
You laugh, and then try to shush yourself so he doesn’t wake up. “Stop - if I laugh I’ll wake him up.”
“What are you doing up?” He asks, his hazel eyes looking down at you with such fondness you wanted to curl up in his gaze and rest in it for a while.
“Oh I wanted cookies, actually.” You reply. “Why are you awake?”
He stammers a little, not wanting you to know that he was walking by your door to see if you were still awake. He had wanted to see you again, your earlier encounter occupying his thoughts all day long, when he assumed you had turned in for the night.
“Uh, I was doing a patrol.” He settled on.
“Oh yeah? Wanted to make sure the terrifying threat was contained?”
He smirked, “what do you think I’m doing now? I figure if I feed the threat, it might spare me.” He gives you the sweetest looking puppy dog face, and you have no idea where it came from, but it absolutely melts your heart.
“Stop that!” you say, while hitting his chest.
“Stop what?” He says, continuing his pouting.
“You look like a sad puppy dog, stop!”
“Will it make the frightening threat not want to kill me?”
“Hmm, the frightening threat will leave you be, for now.”
You two head into the kitchen, and he immediately starts searching through cupboards.
“Mor and Cassian have the best cookies,” he says, while reaching the higher shelves to pull out random boxes that contain cookie tins.
“I didn’t know being a spymaster included knowing everyone’s taste in cookies.”
“You never know what might become necessary information.”
He looked down at you, offering you a cookie. You accepted it, and as your hands were connected by the cookie, a few shadows danced around your arms to some unheard song. He seemed a little surprised at them, his mouth dropping just slightly.
“Are they always this kind to night court guests?” You asked, nibbling on the cookie.
“Only the pretty ones.”
“And do you always flirt with night court guests?”
He leaned in closer, “only the pretty ones.”
You took a step closer, until you’re almost touching noses.
“And do you always commit crimes with your guests?”
His breath was fanning your face. It smelled of sugar cookie and mint, and you think about what it would feel like to inhale him.
“Only you.”
He pulled out a cookie and offered it to your mouth, which you happily accepted. You don’t break eye contact as you grab the cookie with your mouth, pulling it from his fingers.
“I can’t say I’ve indulged in criminal activity with anyone else.”
His grin grows as you bite into the cookie, a few crumbs falling but a few shadows swoop down to catch them before depositing them in the trash.
“Good. I am in charge of catching criminals in the night court, and I’d hate to have to catch you and lock you up.”
A blush spread over your cheeks. You opened your mouth to respond, when Azriel straightened, his wings going rigid.
“Hide the evidence.” He whispered, as he pulled back and quietly put the cookies away back where they came from. Before you can ask him about the abrupt change, you hear loud footsteps coming down the stairs into the kitchen, before seeing Cassian appear.
He looked at the two of you, surprised that anyone else was awake at this hour. Now he was hoping the two of you wouldn’t stay too long so he could reach his secret stash of cookies.
-
During the afternoon the next day, your little shadow companion kept following you around, almost acting as a guide dog. When you came down for breakfast, it guided you into the seat next to where Azriel was sitting, even guiding your hand to grab an apple at the same time as him, causing your fingers to brush against each other.
Currently the shadow was dragging you through the hallways of the house, into what appeared to be a massive library. It guided you to sit in a chair at a table where there seemed to be some paperwork piled on top. The shadow left you for a moment, returning with a book for you.
“Ah, thank you,” you say, petting at the shadow. It curled around your finger in reciprocation before slithering back into your hair. You began reading the book, only getting a chapter in when someone sat across the table from you.
“The threat has found where I liked to do work,” Azriel stated, looking through his papers. You smiled up at him, “I have to be prepared to strike at any moment, you know.”
He chuckled, a soft look on his face. “Well, if you plan to attack in the library, please try to keep noise levels to a minimum, Clotho gets very upset when I cause too much noise. I’m on thin ice with her.”
“Oh, I see. You have a reputation for hosting parties down here,” you muse.
He looks at you, a lazy grin on his face, “my parties are known across Prythian, only the best, most exclusive guests may attend my library events.”
“And am I on the guest list?” You ask, leaning against the table. “Of course,” he replied, leaning towards you over the table, “you might be a threat, but I’ve heard you’re one hell of a dancer.”
You laugh loudly, then remember where you are and try to quiet down. “I’ll have you know that I’m a lousy dancer, but I would be very interested in attending one of your parties anyway.”
-
The longer you stayed, the more the shadows kept maneuvering around you. Instead of just one you now had a small trio who accompanied you everywhere, hiding in your hair, wisping around your neck and wrists like jewelry when you were alone.
One night at dinner, you’re seated next to Azriel for the fourth evening in a row. You’re not sure if any of his family members pick up on this, but Kallias and Viviane also sit in the same place each night, so perhaps it wasn’t anything noteworthy.
“Can you pass me the potatoes please?”
You knew if you turned to the right, Azriel’s face would be right next to yours and your noses would be able to touch.
“Of course, can’t give you any reason not to trust me.” You winked at him, reaching over for the potatoes. When you turn back, Azriel’s expression has changed ever so slightly, and his eyes search for your face, something you can’t quite pinpoint in his eyes.
“Here you are,” you say, moving the bowl towards him.
“Here I am,” he says, not reaching for the bowl, instead keeping his gaze fixed on you. You laugh, expecting there to be some joke, but he keeps his gaze fixed on you and you find it impossible to breathe with the way he’s looking at you.
Surely someone else notices the way you two are locked in this embrace, but when you quickly glance around the table, no one seems to notice or care.
He reached for the potatoes and looked at them. “How can I be sure you didn’t poison these?”
You laugh, the spell of the moment gone, and you’re able to think properly again.
“I guess you’ll never know.”
He placed the bowl down, smirking. “Better not take any chances then.”
The rest of the dinner continued, everyone amused at Nyx’s babbling and insistence of sitting in Cassian’s lap despite how many times he’s put back into his own high chair, and yet your eyes kept finding those potatoes Azriel never ate, the bowl untouched since he took it from your hands.
-
A quick knock to your door the next morning stops you from packing, and you stride over to open it. “Hi, Azriel,” you say, leaving the door open for him to come in as you turn back around to put your folded clothes away. Several of his shadows move towards you, trying to unfold your clothes when you aren't looking.
“Leaving so soon?” he asks, shutting the door behind him gently, turning back to you with his hands in his pockets. You swat at the shadows, refolding their undoing.
“Unfortunately, my trip always had an expiration date attached to it.”
You breathe deeply, trying to ignore how good he smells when you feel him come up behind you, his chest close enough that you can feel his body heat through your clothes. From behind you, he lifts one of his hands up, almost touching you, but not quite getting far enough before retracting his hand.
He clears his throat, “what did you think of my home court?”
You smile, doing the latches on your luggage. “It’s quite beautiful. Do you get all four seasons here?”
He nods his head in agreement when you turn to face him, not noticing the shadows behind you undoing the latches to your suitcase and unpacking once more for you. “That must be nice,” you muse, “I love Winter, but I am quite tired of the cold.”
“I’m used to the cold, growing up in the mountains you grow quite accustomed to it.”
“Then you’d feel comfortable visiting me in the Winter Court?”
Azriel’s ears reddened at the brazen ask, “I can’t imagine visiting you anywhere and not feeling at ease.”
It was your turn for your ears to redden, but Azriel doesn’t let the silence linger for long.
“Before you go, can I tell you something?”
Surprise overcomes your face, intrigued by his question. You nod, desperate to know what he has to say before you leave. He looked behind you, watching his shadows unpack your bag and put your clothes back where they had come from in the drawers.
“I was very drawn to you when we first met.”
He clears his throat, his wings twitching with nerves. “I was literally dragged to you. I was winnowing elsewhere, but my shadows brought me next to you. I was intrigued why they’d do such a thing,” one of the offending shadows gently passes over his cheek before making its way to greet you.
“They’re funny little things. I thought they were just annoyed with me because I wasn’t sleeping. And then you spoke to me. You were so relaxed with me, immediately. It’s not- most fae aren’t relaxed around me. And I really liked you.”
“I like you too, Azriel.”
He holds up a hand, silently telling you he’s not quite finished. You hold your hands up in mock surrender, allowing him to continue.
“And then you were everywhere. In the hallway, next to me at meals, on the balconies when I landed. It’s like you knew where I’d be.
“Last night at dinner, when I asked you for the potatoes.. I didn’t eat them after you gave them to me.”
You cock your head to the side, confused at this admission over something as minor as potatoes. “Did you change your mind?”
“No, no. I just- I just- the second you were about to hand them to me, I felt it.”
“You felt it?” Confusion coursed through you, completely unsure of where he was going. You enunciated each word, curious over what ‘it’ was.
“I felt it.” His tone held more conviction, but you weren’t any less confused by what he was talking about.
“What did you feel?”
“This.” And you felt a sharp tug in your chest, pulling you towards him, almost knocking you off of your feet. You gasp, holding your arms out to steady yourself, your hands meeting his chest instead.
“That- what- I-“ you look around frantically, unsure exactly of what that was. You look up, finding soft, slight amusement in his hazel eyes. Shadows swarmed around the two of you, circling your arms, your legs, your fingers. They seemed to be saying something, and you closed your eyes to listen.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
You close your eyes, looking deep into your chest, searching for that rope, that tether between your souls. It was shadow and ice, wrapped around each other for as far as you could see.
You gave it a sharp tug, and it was Azriel’s turn to lurch forward. You laugh at his stumbling, holding his elbows to keep him steady.
“Is your offer still valid - for me to visit you in Winter?”
“Only if I can come visit you here, mate.”
Azriel’s knees nearly gave out at the name, the title he’s wanted for centuries. And here you were, right in front of him.
His hand moved hesitantly toward your face, lingering close enough that you could feel the chill from his hand. You nuzzled your cheek into his hand, looking up at him. This beautiful, kind male was your mate.
You had known him for four days - you hardly knew him, hardly knew anything about him or his homeland. But that was okay. You knew his shadows well enough by now.
They were a pretty good judge of character.
Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main
Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin
Thanks for reading! 💕
#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel fluff#acotar writing#azriel x y/n
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Speak for Yourself
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
Authors Note: not edited woohoo, back to your regularly scheduled programming, planning to shut up now lol
Word count: 4.6k I think
Warnings: light cursing, AUS 24, not edited, inaccurate information regarding f2 seasons for the sake of the plot
Summary: You’d been around as long as Logan had, it was no time until one of the drivers developed a crush on you. Oscar had thought it was obvious you weren’t single. Guess not.
—————————————————
Growing up, Oscar had always known he was quieter than a lot of his friends. He’d just rather keep to himself than be loud in his day-to-day life. Even Logan was considered loud when around the Aussie, and considering Logan was pretty quiet himself, that was impressive.
Everyone around him knew he preferred to be private. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share things with his friends and family, it was just that having his own life was more convenient.
One of the things he’d always been private about, was his relationships. He’d had girlfriends growing up, none of them really sticking around too long as the times changed.
But then he met you. 2018. Logan had introduced you as his best friend, Oscar decided not to be offended. You were the opposite of the Australian. You were loud and happy and Oscar was absolutely captivated by you. He’d asked Logan if he was allowed to ask you out and the American had just laughed with a nod, Oscar practically running over to you the second the race was over.
Of course, you were 17 so Oscar didn’t exactly have the emotional maturity to realize he was in love with you at the time. It only took him six months to say it out loud, though. Three years later and you two were still going strong, Oscars career only moving upwards as he raced through the 2021 F2 season.
Logan had been trying to find a way to get you a job with him the whole season. You’d just agreed, choosing to follow him around for a whole year as he moved through different series. He’d never have told Oscar but he’d needed your support more than anything. Just having to cycle through seats and races and series had drained him, you needing to practically talk him off the ledge multiple times throughout the year.
But you did get a few races with Oscar. Toward the end of the year, Logan got to race alongside his friend, meaning you got to hang out with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, who was looking likely to win the entire championship.
“Are you nervous?” You hummed under your breath, your words echoing around the silence of the dark hotel room. You feel Oscar shift behind you, his arm tightening around your torso. The next morning, he’d be racing to win the championship, hopes and dreams laid out before him.
“I don’t think so,” he pauses, contemplating his words, “I think I was. Not anymore though, I’ve got you with me. That’s enough for me.”
You take a second to think through his words before a grin splits your face, skin heating up as the sentence sinks in, “I love you, Osc.”
The man in question shifts again, swinging his other arm around to wrap you tighter in his hold, “I love you too.”
You eventually fall asleep, letting the quiet of the room paired with the sound of the beating heart behind you, lull you to bed.
The next day, Oscar wins the championship, your loud yells sounding uncharacteristically quiet in the cacophony of screaming voices that surround you. He doesn’t sprint over to you or anything, big gestures not really his style. But he does make eye contact with you with a warming smile once he steps out of the car and that’s enough for you to know exactly how he feels in that moment.
Logan, though, is being very weird. You were sat in your boyfriend’s room, watching Logan practically wear a hole in the carpet with his constant pacing. He walked back and forth through the room with an absent mind and shaky hands. Throughout the year you’d been forced to follow him around, you somehow hadn’t seen him this nervous the whole time. Impressive considering he’d met about 100 very important people in the span of about two weeks.
“What’s your problem?” Logan’s eyes snap toward you, eyebrows shooting up as he looks at you with wide eyes.
“Nothing,” you roll your eyes at his quickly worded response, he didn’t seem to be in a too concerning state of being so you opted to leave him alone. He’d be fine eventually. He’d also looked about the same last week when the Dolphins had almost lost. He’d recovered from that too.
Your head instead turns toward where the door has just opened. You watch your boyfriend walk through, his gaze immediately catching on the weirdo pacing in the corner.
“Hi, Logan?” Oscar hums with a confused look on his face. Logans gaze locks onto the older Aussie, a stupid grin splitting the Americans face.
“Congrats, Oscar. Have a great evening,” Logan says, slapping his friend on the shoulder. The dumb grin is back on the blond man’s face, proving your earlier hypothesis that he’d heal from his paranoia relatively quickly.
Oscar, on the other hand, is surprisingly quick to take over Logan’s role as village weirdo, moving to rush Logan out of the room. Logan leaves, not before he gives Oscar a suspicious glance but Oscar just replies by shoving him out. You dismiss it as annoyance at the man for intruding, though your eyes do stay trained on the door Logan had just left though for more than a few moments.
“He’s so weird,” you mumble, a confused look on your face as you think back to your friends actions.
“Yeah, he is,” Oscar replies, rolling his eyes. There’s a second layer of agreement laced through his words, though you don’t catch the fact he might have a different reason to agree. You hum, still trying to decode why your friend had been acting like that, not even figuring the cause might be the man in front of you.
Oscar pulls your attention back toward him as he rests a hand on your face, gently tilting your head toward him, “I have dinner reservations for tonight. That place you’d talked about this morning.”
You smile, completely forgetting about Logan’s loser behavior, “Sounds great.”
Oscar grins before letting go of your face, the feeling of his grasp still lingering on your skin, “I’m gonna take a shower, then we can go back to the hotel.”
You laugh, pushing him away from you gently. Oscar stumbles dramatically, causing your laugh to get louder. You don’t notice how Oscar’s smile gets bigger in sync with your happiness.
“Go, then. You stink.”
Oscar pulls a face, offense painting his features, “Rude.”
You snort, rolling your eyes as he moves toward the bathroom, “Go, nerd!”
Oscar laughs a final time before finally stepping into the room, shutting the door behind him. You collapse onto the couch you’re sitting on, mind running with thoughts of the dinner you were about to go to and recent memories of the pure elation you were feeling after Oscar’s win. Content fills your body as you relax, faint sounds of the shower the only sound filtering through your ears.
A few hours later, you’re sat across from your boyfriend, laughing over your food while sharing anecdotes back-and-forth, laughs probably a little too loud for the really nice restaurant.
Oscar grabs the bill from the waiter, smiling politely as the man walks away momentarily. Oscar pulls his card out and slides it back in his wallet before putting it in his back pocket, moving to stand up afterward. You grin as he holds a hand out to you, helping you to your feet.
You hum warmly, tiredness spreading through you as you approached the conclusion of a pretty long day. The food had been delicious and the atmosphere was wonderful.
You had thought you’d be going straight back to the hotel, considering Oscar still had to race again tomorrow.
But as you exit, Oscar pulls you away from the car, interlocking his fingers with yours. You shoot your eyebrows up as you glance at your boyfriend, a tight smile on his lips.
“I thought we could go for a walk on the beach, maybe? It’s really pretty,” Oscar stares straight ahead as he says the words, gaze seemingly avoiding yours. But when you don’t answer for a second, he does glance over to you and you finally nod with a small smile.
“Sure, I’d love that.”
Oscar gulps, a big grin splitting his face. He looks back toward the sand a bit ahead of you, moving to slowly stroll down it with you by his side. You let out a relaxed sigh, head falling into his shoulder. Oscar had been right, this was very pretty. Lights lit up the sand around you, reflecting off the ocean waves that crashed toward you. The sun is starting to set in the distance, casting warm hues over the sky.
You do stop to pull of your heels and Oscar is quick to hold them in his hands, resuming in his passive, slow walk.
You make bare comments about how pretty your surroundings were, the sound of silence just not satisfying you. Although you do leave enough time between sentences to truly take in the calmness that comes with the ocean scenery, wave sounds in the silence and all.
You eventually come to a point some ways down the beach that has more lights than the rest. They form a little semi-circle that perfectly light up the area. Oscar pulls you to a stop in the middle of them and he turns you both to look out at the ocean. You swear you hear a sound from behind you but when you glance over, the beach is clear of anyone else so you turn back around to gaze toward the sunset.
The sun is about halfway down in the horizon and you find your gaze locked on the pink and orange that fades through the sky. You’re so focused that you don’t notice that Oscars grasp on you disappears. When you turn around to point out the colors to your boyfriend, a sharp gasp leaves your throat.
“Oh my god, Osc-!”
You cut yourself off with a hand over your mouth as you look down at your boyfriend, kneeling in the sand, a small box clutched in his hands.
You don't remember much of his speech, too busy trying to not start absolutely sobbing. But you do remember the last words that leave his mouth before the ring is slid onto your finger.
“Will you marry me?”
You nod quickly, hands shaking as Oscar stands up to put the ring onto you. You stare down at it for a few seconds as Oscars hands rest on your waist, waiting for your reaction. You look up, moving through the shock in your veins. You grasp his face in your hands and pull him down into an emotionally-charged kiss, feeling his arms wrap around you tighter.
He smiles into the kiss, head resting against yours once you finally pull away. You look into his eyes for a second before laughing and leaning away, tears dripping down your face.
“That was so wonderful, Osc,” you say through your tears, wiping your face with the back of your hand.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Oscar smiles before it drops slightly, a grimace pulling onto his face, “because Logan’s been in that bush the whole time.”
Your head whips toward the bush Oscars hand is outstretched toward, eyebrows furrowed as you search the greenery.
An incredulous laugh leaves your throat as Logan pops his head up, a sheepish glance in your direction being all he offers in response. You snort, grinning as you notice the nice-looking camera in his hands.
“Come here, idiot,” you smile, waiting for your friend to emerge from the bushes so you can share this moment with the man who’d been your closest friend for your entire life, “‘At least, now I know why you were acting like that.”
That was, of course, 2021. Now, two years later, you were still following Logan around. But now, with the Floridian entering F1, you had a contract and a paycheck that came with it. Anyone who didn’t know Logan would think you were his assistant. Which you technically were. But anyone who did know Logan, would instead refer to you as his paid-best-friend, many jokes about him paying you to hang around being thrown his way from fans and fellow drivers alike.
It was very convenient that your husband was entering F1 at the same time as the man who employs you, opening up so many more chances to spend time with Oscar.
No one really questioned Oscar’s continued presence in the Williams garage. Everyone knew that him and Logan had always been close so when he was spotted in the white and blue, no one batted an eye.
Not even his new teammate, who claimed to know the Aussie better than anyone else on the grid. Lando just assumed Oscar was really eager to see his friend every day. Lando didn’t consider that he saw Logan every weekend anyway and that maybe the speed with which he got to Williams might be a little too fast to just be for a close friend.
No one from Williams questioned it either. They all knew that Logan and Oscar had grown up as friends. So when Oscar seemed pretty close to one of Logan's closest friends, they didn't question it. It only made sense.
You didn’t hang around the rest of the grid very often during Oscar and Logan’s first season. You didn’t really know any of the other drivers so you, instead, spent all your time in Williams, Alex and Lily becoming fast friends of yours.
But in 2024, you started to come around more, choosing to venture out of the garage and talk more to the drivers you’d met over the past year. One of the garages you had started to frequent more was McLaren, your husband quite excited to have you in the Papaya as opposed to your usual blue.
You went to the garage purely for Oscar. But he wasn’t always the only driver hanging around. The papaya garages were often frequented by drivers from other teams. Specifically, the Ferrari drivers loved to make their presence in the garages known.
It was the Australian GP, Oscar’s home race and only the third race of the season. You’d only came over to McLaren a few times over the past three races, but you were currently occupied with Logan after his car had been taken away so you were nowhere to be seen.
Oscar was sat with his teammate in hospitality, talking about pretty much anything as they waited out the few hours they had before they had to do anything.
“Lando!” The voice of a loud Spanish man has Oscar’s face splitting into a grimace. He turns his head to see none other than Carlos Sainz making his way toward the pair in papaya, Charles Leclerc in tow behind him.
Lando grins beside him, eyes lighting up as he looks toward his friend. Lando glances down toward his teammate to assess the look on the Aussies face before he stands up and clasps Carlos on the shoulder, “Hey, Carlos!”
Oscar looks away from the two of them, gaze landing on Charles who stands awkwardly to the side. Oscar catches his eye before gesturing for him to sit down in one of the free chairs around the table the McLaren boys had been occupying . Charles smiles gratefully, happy to break the strange stance he’d been stuck in previously.
After successfully bro-ing it out, Lando and Carlos eventually sit down at the table, chairs sliding against the grown loudly as they shift around.
“How are you both feeling about the race?” Carlos asks, eyes shifting between Lando and Oscar, though his gaze does stop on the Brit.
Oscar, though, pipes up to answer the Spaniards question before Lando can, “We feel pretty good. It’s a home race so that’s always great.”
Carlos hums absently, eyes seemingly searching for something behind Oscar. Oscar glances behind him quickly to see if there’s anything worth mentioning but is met with nothing but Papaya shirts. He turns back around. Weird.
Lando seems to notice Carlos’ weird behavior as well, his eyebrows furrowing as he glances around as well before looking back to the Spaniard, “You looking for something, Carlos?”
Carlos’ eyes snap back to the curly-haired man, heat rising to his cheeks as he realizes he’s been caught, “No, nothing.”
Charles snorts from beside his teammate, sticking a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the laugh threatening to leave his throat. Carlos glares at the Monegasque lightly, only making Charles laugh harder before Carlos leans forward to explain.
“Where is that Williams girl?” Carlos asks with a small smile and a confused look passes over Oscar’s face. Who the hell is he talking about?
Charles seems to catch the matching confusion on the McLarens face, rolling his eyes at Carlos’ blunt delivery before starting to explain himself, “Carlos in love with that girl Logan hangs around with. The one that’s always in McLaren for some reason.”
Carlos nods in agreement, leaning back in his chair with satisfaction. Oscar feels his stomach drop.
“I’m not in love with her, I just think she’s really pretty.”
Charles laughs, eyes going wide in response, “Carlos you look for her every time we’re in this garage. You’ve been asking to come over here just so you can see her.”
Lando gasps dramatically, a big grin painting his face, “And here I was, thinking you’d been coming around so you could see me!”
The other three drivers at the table laugh but Oscar stays quiet, teeth digging hard into his bottom lip. An unreasonable annoyance filled him at Carlos’ words, eyes rolling as he watches the Spaniard go on about his love for you, Oscar’s wife.
“Why’ve you never gone to Williams to look for her?” Lando interjects after a few more seconds of mindless rambling from Carlos about you. Carlos glances sideways at Charles, a thoughtful look crossing his face.
“Never wanted to bother Logan, I guess. We’re not really friends,” Carlos shrugs.
Lando tilts his head, shaking it slightly, “I’m sure Logan wouldn’t mind.”
Oscar has to stop himself from scoffing at Landos words. If only he knew how much Logan would mind.
“Yeah, I’ll go over there in a minute. Maybe I’ll actually shoot my shot this time.”
Oscar stands up suddenly, chair screeching against the floor as it pushes backward.
“Where you going, mate?” Lando goes to ask but Oscar’s already practically ran away, feet carrying him quickly toward the Williams garage.
The three drivers he’s left behind look between each other with confused faces, all having no idea what made the Aussie leave so quickly.
Oscar, though, makes it to Williams in record time. Running between employees and the like, weaving his way to Logan’s room. He slams the door open, ignoring the strange glances from Williams employees around him.
He pauses as he sees the sight in front of him, Logans head resting heavily in your lap as you run a hand through the blonds hair. The dejected look on Logans face is enough to make Oscar grimace and move quieter as he enters the room. You glance up with the concerned expression still painting your features. Logan doesn't look up, eyes closed tightly and pure distaste clearly present.
“Hey Osc,” you practically sigh, eyes shifting back down to Logan for a moment. Only after hearing your words does Logan open his eyes, looking over toward the Aussie.
“Hey guys,” Oscar says carefully, his previous reason for rushing into Williams now momentarily forgotten.
Logan mumbles under his breath and closes his eyes again, nodding at Oscar before he does. You pat his head softly and he rolls over, moving his head away from you so you can stand up and talk to Oscar.
“Whats up?” you try to smile through your obvious grimace and Oscar smiles painfully in response.
He nods his head toward Logan who's now lying face-down on the couch, “Is he okay?”
“No, not a great weekend with the whole chassis thing,” You reply, trying to keep your voice low enough so Logan doesn't hear.
Apparently you weren't quiet enough as you hear a muffled shout echo through the small room.
“Im fine!” You can barely hear through the couch cushion but he’s just audible enough.
You shake your head at Oscar, sighing deeply, “Did you need something?”
Oscar nods slightly, grasping your hand in his and pulling you out of the room and away from Logan. Not that Oscar didn’t want to support his friend but he honestly didn’t know what to say. And he was obviously okay with you leaving or he wouldn’t have rolled away from you.
“Do you wanna come back to McLaren hospitality?” Oscar asks, dragging his finger over the wedding ring sat proudly on your ring finger. You notice his attention on the ring and tilt your head slightly.
“For any specific reason?”
Oscar shakes his head innocently, trying to take any look of suspicion off his face. Though it seems you know him too well as you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head, not believing his story.
Oscar rolls his eyes, admitting defeat, “Fine. Carlos was talking about how in love with you he is and I was getting annoyed about it.”
You laugh slightly, not expecting Oscar to claim that the Spaniard was in love with you. But when you see the blush on your husband’s face, you grin softly and pull him into a hug, grasping his face in your hands, “It’s okay, Osc. I only have eyes for you, darling.”
Oscar blushes harder, letting out a small laugh as you pepper his face with kisses and he reaches up a hand to bat your face away from his.
“Come on, let’s go show Carlos what he can’t have,” You laugh, marching forward with Oscar’s hand wrapped tightly in yours. Oscar laughs, following along behind you. But he’s secretly grateful you were willing to shut Carlos’ pining down, not sure if he could take Carlos, of all people, talking about his crush on you for any longer, “Even if he’s not there I’ll still get Logan something to eat.”
You reach the McLaren hospitality quickly enough, garnering some strange looks from people around you as they see your clasped hands. But you pay them no mind, more focused on getting to the food. Oscar drags along behind you, watching as you grab two plates of food, careful not to spill as you balance the plate for both yourself and Logan. Oscar untangles your fingers from his so he can grab one of the plates out of your hand, leading you toward a table so you can eat the food you’ve grabbed for yourself.
Oscar sits across from you as you start to pick at the food lazily, stabbing a lone grape with your fork before bringing it to your mouth. You seemed to have stopped caring about the potential Carlos sighting but Oscar was on high-alert, eyes trailing over the room.
His eyes catch on a scrap of red fabric over your shoulder and he moves his chair slightly closer to you, praying the Spaniard doesn’t catch sight of you. Oscar moves his knee to knock against yours and you smile warmly through the bite of watermelon you’d just taken.
You sit peacefully for a few minutes, eating quietly as Oscar seemingly keeps watch. You don’t ask him why he couldn’t just tell Carlos you were married himself but you don’t question his motives. Men were confusing.
Both of you are surprised when a figure walks up to stand above you. You glance up and see a grumpy-looking blonde man with tousled hair and a disgruntled face looking down at the two of you, exhaustion clear in his eyes.
“Hey, lo. Gotchu food,” You say, sliding the plate toward the American. He hums, glancing around the room. Oscar watches as he sees Carlos and then looks back, glancing between the Aussie and the enemy he had decide to make today.
“Brb,” Logan mumbles with crossed arms, slinking off to a destination you can’t see. But Oscar can, and he watches as his friend slides up to a certain Ferrari driver, his usual shy attitude abandoned due to his already-shit race weekend.
Oscar takes the opportunity to fully move his chair next to yours, grasping your open hand in his, passively fiddling with your wedding ring. You roll your eyes but relax your hand in his, allowing him the chance to be as possessive as he wants.
“Hey, man,” Carlos says as Logan reaches him. Really good timing actually, he’d been wanting to talk to him about you.
Logan blinks through his tiredness, frowning at the older man, “Hey, Carlos.”
Carlos grins, deciding to stick through the poor attitude from the blonde man in front of him, having no idea just how poor this was about to go for him, “I was actually going to ask you about that friend of yours. The pretty American one you’re always with.”
Logan blinks again, glancing back toward the papaya polo sat next to you before he looks back, “Y/N?”
Carlos shrugs, smile unfaltering, “I guess so, any way you could get me her number?”
Logan chews his cheek a bit, eyes quickly switching between the ground and Carlos’ face, “Nah, man. She's taken.”
Only then does Carlos’ face falter, his eyebrows furrowing slightly with confusion, “Really?”
Logan holds back his laugh, rubbing at his eyes as he starts to lose the tiredness he'd previously had, “Yeah, yeah. Married actually.”
Carlos’ head snaps toward the Williams driver, mouth opening slightly as he shakes his head, “No way, mate. You’re joking.”
“I don’t think I am,” Logan smirks, head tilting toward where you’re sitting, “You could ask her but I don’t think he’d let you get within 10 feet after this morning.”
Logan watches as Carlos’ gaze lands on you and your husband, mouth gaping as he catches Oscar’s hands fiddling with the ring on your finger, “Shit…”
“Yeah, shit indeed,” Logan nods, starting to walk away and leave the Spaniard to revel in his shock, “Have a good race, Carlos. I won’t be seeing you out there.”
You finally look up to see Logan sit down across from you, sliding his own plate over to himself and starting to munch down on the food you’d picked for him.
Oscar raises an eyebrow as he catches the incredulous look on Carlos’ face, “What was that about?”
“Just told him you’re married,” Logan mumbles through a mouth full of strawberries, chewing passively, “Had to spell it out for him, been dropping hints for months.”
You glance toward you friend with confusion painting your face, “What do you mean?”
“Yeah, I’ve been scaring him off from Williams since last October. Don’t think he even realized I was doing it on purpose.”
You and Oscar catch eyes, small grins breaking out on your faces as Logan continues to stare intently at his snack.
“Thanks, Logan,” you smile, happy to hear about your friends committed defense of your marriage.
“Don’t thank me, I’m still in a bad mood,” he says as he stabs a grape violently, biting the green sphere with a crunch.
Oscar hums, pulling you into him and resting his head on top of yours, eyes falling closed momentarily, “Sure, Logan. Eat your food, you’ll feel better.”
Logan just replies with a stab of his fork and you laugh, relaxing against your husband behind you, grateful for the great friend you’ve got in front of you.
————————————————
Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119
#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x fem!reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fluff#scheduled#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you
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baby trapping featuring boyfie jake 🎀
boyfriend jake who is obsessed with the idea of baby trapping…. but not for the typical reasons.
he’s being selfish. after years of being together you and jake both know well enough — you don’t want children. they’re expensive and messy… too much effort for yourself.
yet jake’s cock grows heavy at the thought of your swollen stomach and heavy tits — the thought of fucking you so full of his cum…
the radiating image of you full of him — his cum leaking from your tight throbbing cunt — it makes his pants tighten.
jake can agree with you — kids aren’t really his thing. but would he mind? no. especially not if that means he can kill two birds with one stone — satisfying his oral fixation and making you a mommy (plus all the benefits).
god what’d he do to suck your nipples raw — listen to all of your pretty moans and pleas and he sensually swirled his tongue around your hardened puffy nipples. he’d absolutely suck you dry.
on top of that he’d unlock a new petname (for you).
as he relentlessly fucks into you he grains into your ear… ‘such a good mommy huh? taking care of everything all day — me… the kids… fuck! even cleaning up too… bet you’re tired mama! hah! shit… let me just fuck it out of you yeah sweetheart?’
jake lets his imagination run wild… he has one hell of a field day imagining just brainstorming ways he’d take you: ‘got to be quiet…’ he’d have you perched up on the kitchen island with his head buried between your thighs. ‘don’t want to wake the baby do you mommy?’ silently you’d shake your head no. ‘good girl…’ he’d trail kisses up your thighs until he finally met the sweet core of your cunt. her slowly lap your pulsating cunt — latching his full lips around your clit and humming around the sensitive bundle of nerves.
overall — what’s the worse that could happen? who knows… maybe you’d like being a mom. jake’s only doing you a favor by helping you to realize so…
mwahhh 🎀 jake brainrot is heaven on earth ><
#lil-ma-shae#enhypen smut#enha smut#sim jake smut#jake smut#enha hard hours#enha hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts
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Was Any Of It True?
Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader
Summary: Modern/College AU! Az’s on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes
Word Count: 10.2k oh lord sorry besties I couldn’t shut my little brain off
“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.
“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”
“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”
Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”
Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”
He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”
“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”
“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.
“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore.
No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.
He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin.
Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle.
Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”
She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen.
“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.
Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”
Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.
“I have a proposition for you.”
He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”
“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.
“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.
Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?”
Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.
He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”
She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her.
“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”
“Just hear me out!”
He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.
“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.
He looked pointedly at her. “And?”
“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.
“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.
Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”
Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”
She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.
He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.
Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”
Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.
“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.
“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.
To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”
He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”
Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”
Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”
“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.
“What?” Azriel asked.
“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”
He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”
She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”
Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked.
He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”
Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”
---
You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…
Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --
“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice.
You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous.
His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves.
All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.
“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.
“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.
He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”
“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked.
“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”
His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”
“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.
“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”
You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”
He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”
A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”
He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously.
You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”
You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”
The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”
Rolling your eyes, you told him.
“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”
“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”
“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.
“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.
Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”
You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”
He shrugged casually. “I like you.”
“You don't know me!”
“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”
You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”
He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”
“What do you mean?”
“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”
“What date?” You blanched.
He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”
You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was.
As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”
For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.”
His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.
“Can't wait.”
You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text.
Az: Done studying yet?
It was an effort to bite down your smile.
You: Taking a break for dinner.
It was less than a minute before he responded.
Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?
You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.
You: A little cliche, don’t you think?
Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?
You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?
Az: We’re playing tennis?
You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.
Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.
You: Shut up.
Az: See you tomorrow ;)
You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.
The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?
Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere.
He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.”
You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.
“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in.
“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”
You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”
He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”
“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased.
His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”
You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”
Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.
“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.
You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago.
Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”
He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green.
You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”
“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”
He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.
“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”
You nodded, not sure where to go from here.
Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”
“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high.
“You are. I can tell.”
You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.
“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled.
“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed.
So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing.
“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment.
“Okay,” you breathed.
He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club.
“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady.
His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”
You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.
“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured.
You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”
“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”
That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away.
The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”
He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole.
He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around.
You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”
“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked.
His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering.
“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”
He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”
You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.
He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”
You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”
Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”
Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.
“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.
His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.
“I think so, too,” you breathed.
His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.
You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.
When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.
He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.
Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.
Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it.
He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you.
When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.
You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”
He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”
Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”
“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.
You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.
A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.
You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.
So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.
---
Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.
And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.
He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.
He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.
Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished.
With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.
So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.
This would be a mess.
If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.
He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back.
He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.
“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”
Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”
You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”
He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that.
Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”
You sighed, shifting on your feet.
“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”
You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.
He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.
Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.
When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.
“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.
He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.
He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.
Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.
When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.
“Have fun?” He smirked.
“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless.
“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.
You laughed, glancing behind him at the house.
He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”
Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.
You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly.
His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him.
“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.
“Sure,” you said.
He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him.
Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side.
You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”
He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear.
You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple.
Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.
“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned.
You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”
Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”
He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood.
Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap.
“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you.
Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”
“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.
He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard.
“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.
“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”
“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.
He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”
Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”
Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”
Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”
Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside.
Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”
He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”
You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest.
It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.
After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you.
“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.
“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now.
He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”
You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked.
“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again.
Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”
“Yeah?” he said, surprised.
You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”
He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”
You beamed, your whole face lighting up.
Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now.
The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.
He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red.
Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw.
He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you.
Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked.
You nodded, your eyes still frantic.
He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her.
When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”
“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.
“I’m okay,” you said quietly.
He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”
He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him.
Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.
Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.
The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…
Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.
---
“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.
Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…
You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”
For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”
You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”
“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.
He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.”
Before you could even respond, he was out the door.
You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.
Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive.
In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day.
You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him.
He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave.
So, soon. You would tell him soon.
---
Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.
He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show.
And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this.
And he knew. He loved you.
This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true.
And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil.
He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester.
But now his time was up.
He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it.
Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred.
Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”
She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”
“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”
Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”
Azriel blinked.
Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”
He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.
She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”
Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”
A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.
“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one.
He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.
---
The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard.
You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did.
Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.
You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.
A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you.
You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection.
“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.
His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”
Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours.
Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice.
Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket.
Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”
Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”
Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next.
Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?
“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic.
You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.
They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”
Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”
It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking.
You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out --
It was all fake. All of it.
Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out.
When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”
“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”
“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him.
“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you.
“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.
“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels.
You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?”
“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.
You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”
It didn’t matter. But you had to know.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”
You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away.
Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”
“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking.
He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”
You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice.
Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”
Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”
He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”
Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going.
You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands.
Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.
You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury.
Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind his back about you. You felt nauseous.
How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?
You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.
What the hell were you supposed to do now?
I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that.
I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.
I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?
Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door.
You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”
“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”
You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”
Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”
Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.”
His face fell. “I love you.”
Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”
He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”
Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”
Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it.
You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”
His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.
“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.
“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”
He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”
You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway.
Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects.
Without another word, you shut the door.
It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing.
By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.
Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered.
You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt.
A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer.
Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️
Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?
Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.
Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.
“Hi,” you said softly.
He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”
“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad.
A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.
“I miss you,” he said quietly.
You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted.
Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured.
“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”
He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”
You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”
“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”
“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.
---
You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had.
For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement.
It may have been slightly unhealthy.
You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldn’t deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would.
Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?
As September grew closer, you still weren’t sure.
---
Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked.
The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you.
Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.
Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldn’t go into this having any expectations.
Soon, he would know.
---
It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you.
And you used to feel at home with Azriel.
You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously.
Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though.
Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:
Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well.
The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.
For the first time since everything, you texted him back.
Thanks, Az. Yours, too.
He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:
Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight?
His reply came at lightning speed:
7?
Reigning in your smile, you replied:
7.
You couldn’t remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking.
Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said quietly.
You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. “Hi,” you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You weren’t sure you would be able to stand.
Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you.
His eyes were locked on yours. “How was your summer?” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
“Okay,” you said. “How was yours?”
“Okay,” he said quietly.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, here’s the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.”
You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling.
“But?” Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.
“But it’s going to take some time before I can trust you again.”
Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours.
He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, “I am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.”
The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. “Really?” he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes.
You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply.
You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he said against your lips.
Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. “I know, Az. I know.”
“I love you,” he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.
“I love you, too.”
“I missed you so much,” he groaned before kissing your lips again.
You giggled. “I missed you, too.”
He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.”
Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. “Don’t mess it up.”
“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”
The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, going over your respective summers.
Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.
“What?” you asked.
He grinned. “You wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?”
You couldn’t help but return his smile. “Only if I can help you again.”
Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “It’s a deal.”
@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch
#acotar fic#acotar one shot#azriel x reader#acotar x reader#azriel one shot#acotar#azriel acotar#azriel fluff#azriel x you#azriel#azriel angst#acotar azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel fic
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DAUGHTER - boothill x reader
- boothill brings home a baby girl he found in the grass one late night.
- read boothills lore and SOBBED. NOBODY TALK TO ME RN. anyways i had to write about his adoptive daughter but if he had a spouse at the time bc dad boothill is so precious imo cryingngnfsnakskf anyways..
- pre cyborg boothill, major boothill backstory spoilers, written before release wc 582
Boothill was home fashionably late tonight. He never specified why though, leaving you to your thoughts on his ranch.
You both agreed to buy a farm together, considering he grew up around horses and cattle. His fathers taught him how to tend to the animals, taught him creativity, and overall gave him a fine life.
You both had talked about having some children of your own, but that thought hadn’t become a reality due to your busy schedules. That was, though, until he walked through the door of your shared home, cradling a baby in his arms.
She was a pretty little thing- with pale blue eyes and white hair poking through her scalp. She seemed to be a newborn, with how tiny she was.
“Look what I found, just sitting in the grass,” he said in a slight whisper, not wanting to startle the baby. “She’s pretty, ain't she?”
Your eyes widen slightly as you sit up from your place on your shared bed. You take a sharp inhale before motioning for Boothill to hand you the baby. He carefully rests her in your arms, sitting down on your side of the bed as you hold the fragile being in your grasp. You coo to her as Boothill watches you with adoration.
“She’s gorgeous,” you smile, looking down at the girl who was happily clapping in your arms. “Do we know her parents? I’d hate to just take someone's child…”
“No parent was in sight. I also highly doubt someone would jus’ leave their kid in the middle of nowhere,” he said, patting the girl on the head. “If I find a parent, we’ll give her to em’.”
You nod in agreement, allowing the baby to grab onto your pointer finger. She seemed so happy, you almost didn’t want to let her go.
You both soon took her into your bathroom, running a lukewarm bath in your sink and putting the lightest type of soap you could find into the water. You wanted to give her a little bath, considering he found her outside, and you didn’t know what she’d have on her. You also didn’t know how long she’s been outside.
You unwrapped her from the makeshift blanket Boothill tore from his shirt and set her down slowly into the water. She didn’t seem to fuss, so you proceeded to wash her body. Boothill stood behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, looking at something on his phone. You finished cleaning the tiny girl before wrapping her in a soft, warm towel.
“Babe, where are we going to find clothes for this poor thing? She’s probably freezing!” You stress, crossing your arms and sighing as you watch the little girl squirm in the towels hold.
“I’ll head out tomorrow morning and get some necessities. ‘Was thinkin’ about those things too, like how she’s gonna eat and all that.”
“Ugh, that’s another thing to worry about,” you turn around, facing him. “Babies her age don’t eat, and I can’t produce milk.”
At this point, it was late in the night. Who knows what time, all you know is that you should be asleep. But instead, you’re up caring for a little girl who wasn’t even yours.
“Is she just going to sleep with us tonight?” He asked, getting ready for bed.
“I mean, where else would we put her? We don’t have a crib!” You lightly picked her up, placing her on your lap as you rocked her to sleep.
#boothill#hsr#honkai star rail#boothill x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#boothill hsr#boothill honkai star rail#tw leaks
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Do Me a Favor?
Eddie x fem!shy!bestie!reader
Summary: you buy some weed from your best friend Eddie and after shotgunning from him, you both find yourselves wanting more
word count: 6k
cw: MDNI 18+, smut, oral (f receiving)
The cold air nipped at your skin as you knocked on the trailer door. You tightened your cardigan around you as waited for someone to answer, wondering what the hell you had been doing there. You didn’t smoke weed. You didn’t buy it either, but maybe you just wanted to see the cute metalhead who was supposedly the best dealer in town, even though he was one of your closest friends and let you come over whenever you wanted.
You had been friends with Eddie Munson since that one time he helped you pick the books that you had dropped when someone had bumped into you in the hallway in the tenth grade. He had grabbed your copy of Lord of the Rings and the two of you yapped about it all the way to the cafeteria where he let you sit with his group.
After letting you sit with him every day, he eventually asked you to join Hellfire Club and you happily agreed. Not long after, the two of you found yourselves hanging out outside of the club, occasionally getting dinner or watching a movie at your house.
Over time, you started to develop romantic feelings because how could you not have? Eddie was just so sweet and caring and he looked out for you like no one else did. And maybe it was silly to crush on your best friend, but you couldn’t help it. Aside from his charming personality, he also happened to be very easy on the eyes.
The door opened, pulling you of your thoughts and there Eddie was on the other side, looking like something out of your dreams in his cropped band t-shirt and sweatpants that he had rolled down a few times, giving you a great view of the patch of hair that was right under his belly button.
“Y/n?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He hadn’t been expecting you, but couldn’t help but feel intrigued to know why you were there.
“Hi, Eddie,” you nodded at him, not quite able to look him in the eye. You had hyped yourself up on the way there, but now that he was actually standing in front of you, you were feeling shy.
“What are you doing here?” He scratched the back of his head, causing his shirt to ride up even more and your mind suddenly went blank. “Thought you had to work.”
“I just got off and I um-I was wondering if I could buy some weed from you.” Eddie laughed at that. He always saw you as an innocent little thing who did everything she was supposed to. A goody-two-shoes that never broke the rules.
“Well,” he let out a chuckle. “I never thought I’d see the day.” Though, he kind of liked the idea of selling weed to you. Not only was it a funny thought, imagining you actually smoking the stuff, but it seemed like you were on edge every time he saw you and he thought you could use something to calm you down.
“We’re not in high school anymore. I’ve changed.” There was a little truth to your statement, but not much. The only thing that had changed about you since high school was that maybe you had a little more confidence and that you had finally gotten your braces off. Other than that, you were pretty much the same.
“So you have,” he nodded. “Well, why don’t you come inside and I’ll show you what I’ve got?” He held the door open for you as you stepped inside, letting it slam behind you. You looked around the place, thinking about how cozy it felt, especially since you were no longer in the cold weather. You rubbed your hands up and down your arms as you stepped further inside, trying to bring some more warmth to your body. You should have known that it was going to be a bad idea riding your bike across town without a jacket, but the damage was already done.
“The stuff’s in my room if you want to follow me.” Eddie couldn’t help but notice how quiet you were, but he had to admit that he thought it was cute. He knew that that was just who you were, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was making you feel nervous. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into taking the weed if you really didn’t want it. He didn’t know why he cared so much, it was just a normal sale.
Except it wasn’t. You were his best friend and had no experience with drugs whatsoever. He wanted to know why you had a sudden interest, but didn’t feel like it was his business to ask, no matter how close the two of you were.
Eddie had always thought you were pretty, but also thought that you were out of his league. He was the town freak and you were the shy girl who always had her nose in a book. He didn’t think that the two of you were exactly a great match. He didn’t want anyone starting rumors about you too, so he let you slip through his fingers. He decided that he was already risking enough by being friends with you.
But now there you were, standing in the doorway of his room, somehow having gotten prettier since he had seen you a few days ago. You were avoiding his eye contact, staring at the desk that was behind him. You were eyeing the stack of books that were sitting on top of it, wondering what they were, if he liked to read about the same things you did.
You slowly stepped further into the room, making a beeline for the stack, noticing that they were all new books. You slowly looked at all the covers, most of them being ones you had never heard of, but you were interested in every single one as soon as you read the back. Your face lit up at the book that was on the very bottom. It was your current favorite fantasy novel that you had read more times than you had cared to admit, but you had lost your copy and hadn’t been able to get a new one. You opened the book and let out a gasp at the little signature on the first page, wondering if he had bought it like that or if there was a signing that you didn’t know about.
Eddie watched you, still finding the way that you mumbled to words that were printed on the books to yourself adorable. For a second, he had completely forgotten why you were there. For a second, he had been convinced that you were there to hang out with him. But he was sure you had much better things to do than hang out with him on a Friday night.
“I can’t believe you have a signed copy of this.” You turned to face him, showing him the signature. He just let out a chuckle at that, finding you even more adorable. He didn’t think he had ever seen you so animated in the years that he had known you. “How did I not know this?”
“Oh, yeah, I got it a couple weeks ago,” he shrugged. “I honestly forgot that I had it.” The thing had been sitting on his desk since after the signing and he really had forgotten about it, his obsession with it being completely abandoned for another. “You can…keep it if you want.” Your eyes lit up at his suggestion but you quickly slumped your shoulders.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t take it from you.” You set the book back on the desk, knowing that you would have felt bad taking something like that from him. Even though it looked like it hadn’t been touched in a while, you could tell that it meant something to him.
“No,” he shook his head, moving towards you. He took the book and shoved it into your hands, his touching yours as he did so. “Take it, l/n. Please. It’s just been collecting dust here and a thing like that deserves to go to a good home.”
“Are you sure?” His eyes bored into yours to show you how serious he was and you couldn’t help but stare into them. They were hypnotizing, so brown and pretty. You had always been a sucker for brown eyes, especially Eddie’s. You knew that you’d do anything he asked just by looking into them, and you were sure that if he knew that fact, he would have gotten you into trouble.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” His hands were still on yours and you were so aware of his touch, loving how soft but rough his skin was. You could feel the cold metal that was his rings against your fingers that was mixed with the warmness of his hands. You just wanted to take them into your own, interlacing your fingers with his.
Eddie took the book from your hands and removed one of the straps of your tote bag from your shoulder and let the book fall inside before putting the strap right back. A smirk kicked up at the corner of his lips and you stared at them, thinking about how kissable they looked. They were so pink and plump and you just wanted to know what they felt like slotted between yours.
“Just so you don’t think about leaving it here,” he winked then turned on his heel to head to his bedside table. He pulled out a tin lunchbox from the bottom shelf and set it on the bed before opening it. He rifled through it, pulling out multiple plastic bags, trying to remember if he even had anything for a beginner. Most of the stuff he had was for people with a much higher tolerance and he didn’t want to start you on something you couldn’t handle.
Eddie found just what he was looking for at the bottom of the lunchbox and held it up to the light just to make sure, then nodded. He then closed the lunchbox and put it back where he found it and sat down on the edge of his bed, patting the spot next to him. You hesitantly sat down next to him, so close to the other end that if you sat any farther away from him, you’d fall to the floor.
Your heart was racing in your chest. You weren’t even going to smoke the stuff, you just wanted to be able to say that you bought some. Once you got home, you had every intention of throwing it into a drawer, never to be touched again. You just were afraid of what it would do to you so you definitely weren’t going to smoke it alone. That was just too scary. Maybe if you had had more confidence, you could have asked him to smoke it with you.
“How much?” You asked, reaching for the money you had in your pocket and Eddie just shook his head.
“No need, l/n,” he rested his hand on top of yours to stop you. “First one’s always free,” he winked and your cheeks flushed.
“Could you do me a favor?” You asked, not even thinking about the words that were coming out of your mouth. Eddie titled his head to the side, wondering what you could have possibly wanted him to do for you.
“Anything,” he nodded quickly, ready to do whatever you asked, no matter how weird or ridiculous. “You know that.”
“Would you…want to smoke with me?” That was the last thing he was expecting to ask. He didn’t think that you even liked him that much, especially not enough to actually want to sit there and get high with him.
“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing. He hoped you couldn’t hear how hard his heart was beating his chest as he suddenly felt nervous about the whole thing. “You really want to?” He just wanted to be sure before he started anything.
“Please.” The words came out more desperate than you had intended, but you didn’t even care. You were just happy that he said the words you had been afraid to. Now you didn’t have to worry. He'd be right there to help you if something went wrong and you were sure that he wouldn’t judge if you did something that wasn’t right.
“Alright, well, I’m just gonna roll this up, okay?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at his desk as he held up the baggie with his other hand. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders as Eddie gave you a reassuring smile, standing from his bed.
You just nodded in response and he pulled his chair out, sitting at his desk, getting to work. You stayed on the bed, not wanting to get into his space, just letting him do whatever he needed to. You sat patiently, trying not to think too much about what you were doing or you were going to back out. You only got one chance to smoke with your crush and you were going to take it.
Once Eddie had the joint all rolled up, he turned in his chair to face you then made his way back to the bed, sitting down on it hesitantly. Your comfort was his top priority and he was fully prepared to stop everything if you didn’t want to continue.He turned to face you, giving you his full attention. He had never smoked with a first-timer, but he still knew exactly what to do. He wanted to give you options, letting you have full control of the situation.
“So, we can either take turns or we can shotgun, which is where I inhale the smoke and blow it into your mouth. Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” He was being so sweet and gentle and it was getting really difficult for you to not fall for him even harder. You weighed your options and decided that shotgunning was probably the best idea. That way, there was less of a chance that you’d choke and maybe you just wanted to be close to Eddie.
“Can we…shotgun?” You words came out unsure and Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, wanting to make sure that was actually what you wanted. You nodded enthusiastically, scooting closer to him again. “That’s what I want to do.”
“Then let’s do it.” Eddie turned to grab his lighter from his bedside table and smiled to himself since he had secretly wanted you to pick shotgun. He wanted to be able to touch you, to feel your lips on his, the whole idea making him a little hard. Once he had the lighter, he put the joint between his fingers before holding the lighter out to you. “Wanna do the honors, cutie?”
“Sure,” you nodded and took the lighter from him. You sparked the lighter up and cupped your hand around the joint like you had seen in movies and let it catch the flame before pulling away. You kept hold of the lighter as Eddie beckoned you forward with his free hand.
“C’mere,” he said and you obeyed, moving so you were sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He mimicked your actions and you both got so close that your legs were touching. “Make sure the smoke is in your mouth before inhaling, okay? Don’t want you choking.” You just nodded and Eddie took a drag and held the smoke in his mouth as you leaned forward even more. Your lips parted and Eddie reached up to your face slowly, giving you a look as if asking for permission.
“Do what you need to do,” you told him and his fingers took hold of your chin. His thumb reached up to your bottom lip and he pulled it down as if asking you to open your mouth wider. After it was wide enough, his hand moved to your cheek, pulling your face to his. He gingerly opened up, pressing his lips to your before pushing the smoke into your mouth. You did as he instructed and waited until all of the smoke was in your mouth before you took a deep breath.
Eddie leaned away so you could exhale, gauging your reaction to make sure that you were okay. Just from your first hit, you had been doing a lot better than other first-timers he had seen. Sure, you had only done well because he had told you what to do, but he still thought that you were a natural.
“I don’t feel anything.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you still felt very sober and Eddie just laughed in response.
“You’re not going to feel anything right away, hon.” His hand moved to your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Do you want another hit?”
“Yes,” you nodded and Eddie took another puff and held the joint away from the both of you as he grabbed hold of your waist, pressing his open mouth to yours once again. He blew the smoke into your mouth and you inhaled before you were supposed to, pulling away to cough into your arm. You had been so focused on the way Eddie’s lips felt against yours that you had completely forgotten what you were supposed to do.
“You okay?” He asked, his hand moving to your back, giving it a sympathetic rub. You just held your thumb up as an indication as you continued to cough. “C’mon, let’s go get some water.”
He stubbed the joint out onto his desk then took you by the hand, pulling you from the bed. You continued to cough all the way to the kitchen and couldn’t believe that you had ruined the good time you were having because you had gotten distracted.
Eddie quickly grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets and filled it up with water from the tap before handing it to you. You quickly gulped down as much of the beverage as you could and let out a sigh of relief as you set the empty glass down on the counter.
“You okay? You good?” He asked, the words rushing out of his mouth. He stood in front of you, his hands resting on your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting manner. You leaned into him, your forehead pressing against his chin.
Eddie didn’t know why he felt the need to comfort you and why it had become second nature to him when he was never good at or liked it, he didn’t know. Anytime he was around first-timers who inhaled improperly, someone else always stepped in to help while he watched from the sidelines. But now, there he was, fully prepared to give you whatever you needed.
“I’m good,” you assured him, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Can you just…hold me for a second?”
“I can hold you for all the seconds, honey.” You weren’t sure where the little nickname came from, but you were eating it up, wanting him to say it anytime he referred to you.
You pulled back to look at him and your eyes immediately shifted to his lips. You watched him wet them with his tongue, the wet sheen making them look even more inviting. It was like he was doing it on purpose, trying to torture you by dangling it in your face, knowing that you wouldn’t do anything about it.
Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to his in a lingering peck before quickly pulling away. An embarrassed flush made its way upon your face and you covered your lips with the pads of your fingertips.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
You turned to leave and Eddie didn’t let you get far. He grabbed hold of your wrist and turned you around to face him. He took no time to cradle your face in your hands and capture your top lip between his two. Your hands found his waist and you pulled him to you so he was flush with your body. The kiss was slow and sweet, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. It was everything you had ever hoped, everything you could have ever imagined.
“Don’t ever apologize for that,” he insisted against your lips. “You have absolutely no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” That made you stop in your tracks. You quickly pulled away to look at him, your eyes widening.
“How long?” You were desperate to know exactly how long he had felt that way about you so you could see how much your crushes had overlapped each other.
“Since high school. Almost kissed you that night when I drove you home from Hellfire and I’ve been kicking myself ever since because I didn’t.”
You had remembered that night so vividly. You had ridden your bike, but Eddie had insisted on giving you a ride home. The two of you had talked the entire time about everything and nothing, occasionally giggling at little jokes that you had shared with each other. Even after Eddie had pulled into your driveway, you still sat there, neither of you wanting you to leave. You had noticed him leaning towards you, but you didn’t want to make any assumptions, so you just said your goodbyes and you just felt embarrassed for thinking that he was going to kiss you when it had been clear that he hadn’t.
All that time, you could have sworn that he was going to kiss you and you had been right. You actually hadn’t been delusional for once. For once, the guy that you had feelings for actually reciprocated them and you couldn’t have been more elated.
“Well, now you can make up for lost time.” Your hands rested against his back.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Eddie pulled you back in for another kiss, this one more rough and messy, the two of you so desperate for the other, taking exactly what you wanted from each other.
Eddie’s hands moved to your cardigan and he undid the first button so slowly, giving you a chance to back out if you wanted to. Once he got the okay to continue, he undid the rest and pushed it off of your shoulders. You removed it from your arms and let it fall to the floor.
You let your hands trail up his back and you pulled onto the bottom of his shirt before pulling it over his head. Once it was removed, he threw it to the side, grabbing hold of your waist again. His hands slipped to the strip of skin between the top of your jeans and the bottom of your tank top that had ridden up as he backed you up to the counter, your back hitting it.
He helped you get up on top of it and you spread your legs, Eddie stepping between them. His mouth was quickly on yours again as he licked into it, his tongue roaming around it as if he was trying to taste every single bit of it.
You let out a moan as his tongue swirled around yours and your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible. His hands traveled up your shirt and moved to your bra, his fingers resting on the clasp as if asking to take it off.
“Take it off,” you commanded. “Please.” The word came out like a whine and Eddie was happy to oblige, quickly unhooking the clasping before removing the straps from your arms and sliding the whole thing down and pulling it from your tank top. He tossed it behind him then looked at you, searching your face for any sign of hesitance.
“Are you sure you want to keep going?” He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling from being out of breath from your lips being attached. He would have never forgiven himself if he had done something you weren’t comfortable with. He just wanted to be one hundred percent sure.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Eds.” Your hand moved up to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I want you to be my first.”
“Your first?” His eyes widened. He honestly had no idea that you were a virgin. “Y/n, are you sure you want it to be me?” Eddie wanted to be sure that it was actually what you wanted. That you were doing it with someone you cared about and he wasn’t sure he deserved to be your first.
“Very sure,” you nodded. “You’re the only one I trust to do it.” He felt his cheeks blush at your words, knowing that they meant that you had thought about having sex with him and his dick was getting harder by the second.
“Y/n, you have no idea how honored I am that you want it to be me, but I just want to be sure that you really want this.” Eddie thought it was the greatest honor of all that he was the one that you wanted to lose your virginity to and considered himself the luckiest man alive because of it.
“I’m sure,” you nodded. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”
“Oh, have you?” He teased and pressed another kiss to your lips. “Wanna move this to the bedroom?”
“I’d want nothing more.” Eddie’s lips slotted between yours once again and his hands moved out from under your shirt and wrapped around your waist, pulling you from the counter. Your ankles locked at his back and he carried you to his room, your lips still in the middle of a messy kiss.
He entered his room and slammed the door behind him with his foot, hurrying the two of you to his bed. He collapsed onto it and you fell on top of him. He then sat up and looked at you with a serious look in his eyes.
“I just want to let you know a few things before we get started,” he said, his hands resting on your thighs.
“Okay,” you nodded, ready to listen to whatever he needed to say.
“First, if I go too far or you don’t like something or even if you don’t want to continue, don’t be afraid to let me know. This is all about you, okay?” You just nodded in response and Eddie licked his lips before he continued.
“And on the opposite end, don’t be afraid to let me know what you do like. If you like something, feel free to make noise, and you don’t have to be embarrassed about being too loud. There’s no such thing.”
“Got it,” you nodded, looking him in the eyes so he knew that you completely understood what he was saying. You were desperate to get on with it already, but felt like you owed it to him to listen to what he was saying since it seemed pretty important.
“Do you want to start or should I?”
“You do it.” You wanted him to take the lead since he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Okay,” he replied, leaning towards you, his face only inches from yours. “Just gonna kiss you for now, okay?”
“Mhm,” you nodded and his lips attached to yours again. You felt a little more confident and you were the one to stick your tongue into his mouth, mimicking what he had done earlier, slowly laying him down onto the bed, removing your shirt as you did so. You then leaned down and pulled him into a kiss, your bare chest against his. Eddie brought his hands up and grabbed hold of your tits, the pads of his thumbs massaging your nipples, just enough to make them hard and you made a noise that he knew that he was going to grow very fond of.
Eddie pulled away from you, his mouth immediately moving to your tit. He moved his tongue back and forth, licking across your nipple and you moaned. The whole thing was so foreign to you but you liked the feeling.
Just as you were getting used to it, he took your nipple between his teeth and gave it a pull, causing your hands to move to his hair, giving it a yank. Eddie took that as an invitation to continue and moved to the other nipple, giving it the same attention. You gave it his hair another yank and let out one more moan, trying your best to not be self conscious about how loud you were.
“That’s it, honey,” he said, licking another stripe along your nipple. “Let it out.” Eddie pressed his lips to the spot between your breasts then flipped you over so that your back was against the mattress. He pressed open mouthed kisses all the way down to your stomach and stopped when he got to the top of your jeans.
“These look great on you,” he complimented. “But I’d think they’d look better on the floor. Can I remove them?”
“Yes, please.” He took no time to unbutton them and pulled down the zipper before pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. He pressed a kiss to the spot above your underwear then looked up at you for permission to remove them.
“Take them off, Eds. Please. I need you.” Your words came out so whiny and Eddie felt himself getting even more hard.
“Yes ma’am,” he responded before taking your underwear off. He was about to throw them on the floor, but you stopped him, putting your hands over his.
“You should keep them,” you told him. “To remember this night.”
“Isn't that objectification?” He liked the idea of keeping your underwear, but also kind of felt like he was treating you like an object by doing that.
“Not if I say it isn’t. Put them in your pocket.” Without a second thought, Eddie put the underwear into his back pocket before resting his hand on your knees, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. He then spread your legs open to get a peek at your pussy which was sopping wet.
“Wow,” he said, noticing that there was already a stain from where everything had leaked out onto his bedding. “This might be the wettest pussy I’ve ever seen. Mind if I get a taste?”
“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Eddie climbed off of the bed as he pulled you to the end of it. He then got onto his knees before throwing your legs over his shoulders. He looked up at you one more time for any signs of hesitance and when he saw how eager you looked, he slowly pushed his head between your thighs, burying his face into your cunt.
You let out a gasp as his nose brushed it and gripped the blanket as he licked a stripe from your slit to your clit. He swirled his tongue around the area and you couldn’t keep your sounds to yourself anymore.
“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned, your fingers gripping more of the blanket as he worked his magic with his tongue. He grazed the sensitive spot with his teeth and you whimpered which let him know that he could continue. He applied a little more pressure with his teeth, loving the sounds that the action elicited from you.
“So good, Eds. Need more.” You were desperate for whatever he was going to give you, not caring at all what it was, just as long it felt as good as him giving you head.
“Oh, this is just the appetizer, hon.” He dove into your cunt once more, shoving his tongue inside of it, causing you to moan the loudest you ever had.
“Fuck, Eddie, more.” He swirled his tongue around and around and you made the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard in his life, knowing that they’d still ring in his head after the night was over.
After a couple more moans, he removed his face from your pussy and practically threw himself on top of you, pressing his lips to yours in a filthy kiss, his tongue swirling around your mouth.
“See how good you taste, honey?” He asked. “Wanna taste you all the time.”
“And I’ll let you,” you responded. “Whenever you want.”
“I love the sound of that.” He slotted his lips between yours in a dizzying kiss before pulling away. He then reached for his bedside table and pulled the drawer open before taking out a condom, not even bothering to close the drawer back.
“I don’t think I’m ready,” you told him, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew he wouldn’t ever judge you, but still couldn’t help but feel like he was going to be mad at you. He let the condom fall to the floor then moved himself back on top of you, his hands taking yours, intertwining your fingers.
“Are you mad?” You looked up at him, and his face softened instantly. He would have never been mad at you for that. Maybe he was a little disappointed, but he thought he would have been wrong to blame your for something like that.
“Baby, no, of course I’m not mad at you.” He shook his head, giving your hands a squeeze. He couldn’t have been mad at you if he tried.
“Promise?” You needed constant reassurance or your brain would convince you that he was lying.
“I promise, honey,” he nodded. “How about we put on some pajamas and watch a movie? Anything you want.”
“I’d like that,” you nodded. You really had thought you were ready, but the whole thing still scared you. You really enjoyed everything leading up to it, but still found the penetration part to be too much for you at the moment.
Eddie rolled off of you and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser before tossing them to you. You threw them on while he headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed and still felt anxious about him being mad at you. What you had was so good and you were convinced that you had ruined it.
“I’m not mad at you,” he called from the bathroom. He knew you too well sometimes, always somehow knowing exactly what you were thinking. He knew how prone you were to overthinking and was always there to reassure you that your thoughts were in fact not true.
Eddie emerged from the bathroom and threw on a shirt before throwing himself onto the mattress and rolling back on top of you. He pressed another bruising kiss to your lips, his hands reaching for yours again. He then pulled away, a grin breaking out on his face as he looked down at you.
“I’m not mad at you,” he repeated, burying his face into your neck, snuggling into it.
“I know,” you replied, just like always, but he was never convinced, even though you really did know that he wasn’t mad at you.
“I’m not mad at you,” he said one more time, pressing a kiss to your neck before rolling off you.
He reached for the remote to his tv and turned it on before pulling you to his chest. You both watched the screen mindlessly while your arms wrapped around him. One of his arms draped across your waist while the other hand stroked your hair, something he always did to bring you comfort.
You looked up at him as he watched the tv and couldn’t help but feel lucky to have a best friend like him. Someone who was always there for you no matter what. Someone who would never judge you for anything, no matter what he really thought about it. Someone who you were completely and one hundred percent head over heels for. And maybe, just maybe, one of these days you’d get the guts to tell him how you really felt.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x shy!reader#eddie munson x best friend reader
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can u maybe write a fic where hyper fem shy reader has had like - the biggest crush on rafe since forever? Like it’s sooo painfully obvious in the way she blushes when he simply looks at her or does what he says, or takes his advice on how she should dress or who she should and should not be friends with. She literally hangs on his every word and when the kooks are like “hey what do you think about [enter subject]” she legit just looks to rafe because she always agrees with him. He lowkey knows about her crush and rafe is evil enough, at least in my opinion, to extort that and enjoy it.
(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) 𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ ◜ ♩ 🐰
you had a crush on rafe and everyone knew it.
from the way you’d hold onto his every word, staring through your lashes with wide eyes at the simplest of stories, or giggle a little too loudly at every boyish joke he’d come up with — it was clear you were head over heels. too shy to make a move, sure — but almost just as happy to pine in peace. rafe knew this, it was abundantly clear — but he’d enjoyed having a sweet girl following him around like a lost puppy. in a sick and selfish way, it made him look good so he let it happen.
you hung onto the little moments, small victories in which rafe would give you the time of day. you still remember the time you walked up to the usual group you hung out with at the country club, rafe included and he’d turned to you, taking a sip of his beer and letting his eyes roam your form.
“hi.” you’d smiled simply as the rest of the group greet you, one of the other girls handing you a chute of expensive champagne — someone clearly celebrating something that day. rafes eyes lingered on your outfit. a small white lacy tube top with a matching white skirt and shoes. he places his bottle on the table and reaches towards you, fixing the small ribbon at the bust of your top. you freeze, eyes sliding up to his face in awe, watching the way the corner of his mouth tugs into the tiniest of smirks.
“i like this.” the compliment is simple, but you feel your body heat up regardless.
“yeah?” you smile sweetly and he nods, a small faux serious pout turned friendly grin before he was turning back to his friends and contributing to the conversation once more. you continued to watch him until one of your girlfriends nudged you, giving you a knowing smile.
another moment worth noting might be later on in the week, topper discussing an invite they’d received to a party thrown by someone they didn’t like too much. he turns to you, mid debate with his friends — involving you.
“look, what do you think? is it worth going to this party? i say a parties a party and if anyone starts their shit we beat their ass— but hey maybe that’s just me!” he lifts his hands up, the group erupting into debate. you stand quietly, before turning your head to look up at rafe sweetly, waiting for his input. he notes this, before stepping up closer beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
“she knows we don’t fuck with them like that alright — don’t try n’loop her into your desperate tactics. you want a party? i’ll throw a fuckin’ party.” he shrugs, making the group swiftly agree, bursting into conversation as rafe looks down at you, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt collar. “don’t let this guy talk you into shit. you’re not goin’ to that party, trust me. come to mine instead.” and just like that — as usual, the moment is over as quickly as it starts but you still hold onto it, smiling uncontrollably at the fact he had his arm around you for even a moment.
(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) 𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ ◜ ♩ 🐰
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Rest
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Dean is your rock, but you’ve become his place of rest.
AN: Surprise! Just something short and sweet for Dean. 💜
Word Count: 600
Tags/Warnings: Established relationship; fluff, hurt/comfort, tinge of angst
On nights like these, the urge hits you the most.
You’re already in bed, wearing one of his old shirts and little else. You’re waiting for Dean, watching him finish brushing his teeth. He wraps it up by splashing some water on his face.
He stops for a moment, with his hands on the edges of the sink. He looks at his reflection and rubs a hand over the thick stubble on his face.
It’s halfway to beard territory. He needs a trim, he’s probably thinking.
(You don’t mind a little extra scruff.)
He hesitates, looking deeper at his own reflection. You notice the lines around his tired eyes, the weight of the last hunt still heavy on his shoulders. It's weighing on yours too, having carved out another small notch in your heart.
But you also know how many more layers this man carries, including the ones he adds himself.
“Dean,” you prompt quietly.
His head turns in your direction, and you give him a smile, beckoning him over.
Again, he hesitates. But he goes to you. After dipping his side of the bed with his weight, he smoothes a hand over your hair in affection. He takes off his father’s watch; the last piece of the hunter’s armor before he lays down on his back beside you. The old metal and leather watch clunks on the nightstand.
He then opens an arm to welcome you over, where you routinely find a place against his side.
“Come ‘ere,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravel. Your lips curve, but you gently push his arm back down to his side.
“Turn over,” you say, making a rolling gesture with your finger. Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, but he’s just curious enough to heed the encouragement of your hands on his arm and his back. He turns onto his side, facing away from you.
You settle yourself higher on your pillows, and you guide him backwards, until he’s resting against your soft upper body. You wrap your arms over his broad shoulders, and your hand moves, soothing across his chest. Even now, you feel the tension in his frame.
“Relax,” you say in a near whisper. You press a lingering kiss to his cheek. “I’ve always wanted to be the big spoon.”
A smile raises the corners of Dean’s lips. He even chuckles, shaking both of you.
“Yeah? Feels kinda weird,” he admits. He doesn’t think he’s been held like this since he was a kid.
“Well, give it a minute,” you say, with a bit of cheekiness.
Then you sigh and settle into this yourself. When your arms cross over his chest, Dean grabs your wrist, holding you there. He lets out another deep breath of his own.
Okay, he agrees, if only in his mind. Not bad.
He does relax against you, inhaling the floral scent of your body wash, feeling the tickle of your hair on his shoulder, and the gentle rise and fall of your breath. It's all familiar, and reminds him that he's home.
Dean leans over to turn off the light on his nightstand, but he returns to your embrace. He reaches back, just to stroke your cheek in a silent thanks. Smiling in the dark, you lay another kiss on the side of his head, and you close your eyes.
Dean does the same. He lets your warmth seep into his body, releasing the tension of a shitty hunt. He tries to let go of the faces he couldn’t save.
And he actually rests.
AN: Just one of my little daydreams that I finally got a chance to write down. 💜
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Dean Winchester One-Shots
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Dean W. Tag List:
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms
@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373
@this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma
@iprobablyshipit91 @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy
@wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons
@anticxrrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk
@midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19 @agalliasi @venicesem
@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx
@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester
@chernayawidow @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse
#Rest#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female reader#supernatural#spn#dean x reader#dean x you#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester fanfiction#jensen ackles#jensen ackles characters#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfic#zepskies writes
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hiii would you please write something like arsenal women are playing just dance as a team bonding and reader is really really good at it to the point where everyone is shocked and filming it and the fans make loads of tiktok edits that the team all see and send round each other and reader manages to get viv to join in next time (she usually refuses but loves reader to much to deny her anything) maybe teen or early 20s reader?! thank you!!
Just Dance || Arsenal Women
“You don’t understand, I used to do just dance all the time in PE. If it was raining, we’d all be in the hall doing just dance. I’m a pro at it.” You tell most of the girls.
Everyone was in the changing rooms after a training session and were all discussing team bonding that was taking place at Leah’s, and your, house.
Being only 17, the team agreed that it wasn’t best that you lived by yourself and so Leah offered that you moved in with her.
Living with Leah had its advantages and disadvantages.
For starters, she had the appetite of a five year old, only eating chicken nuggets and the most basic foods.
However, it came with many advantages that outweighed all the bad ones.
Leah was one of your team mums, along with Kim, Beth and viv, but Leah was the one you were closest to.
With your parents living up north, Leah took it upon herself to make you feel at home in north London.
And that’s exactly what she had done. Now it wasn’t just Leah’s home, it was yours and Leah’s.
“Y/N, our living room isn’t big enough to do just dance.” Leah pointed out, packing her stuff into her bag before starting to pack yours, knowing that you’d forget to do it otherwise.
“It’s enough for me to do just dance and maybe one other person. Come on, Le. Please.” You looked at her, battering your eyelids as you did your best puppy eyes.
Leah loved you with every ounce of her body, but the one thing she hated, was your eyes.
Them stupid eyes had you hooked around her finger.
Leah tried to fight them this time, but as you put just as strong a fight, Leah sighed before nodding her head.
“Thanks, le le. Right, it’s official. I get to show everyone just how good I am at just dance.” You announced to the changing room, a smile appearing on everyone’s faces at how excited you were. “I’m gonna beat all your arses so best get your dancing shoes on.”
“Sure you will mini gunner.” Katie’s Irish accent filled the room as giggles escaped everyone’s mouths.
“You just wait and see McCabe.”
————————
Later that evening, the whole team was gathered round in yours and Leah living room whilst you set up just dance on the TV.
You were going to go up against Alessia first but lessi being the clumsiest person ever, went and fell off the sofa, nearly breaking her neck.
To Alessia’s disappointment, you insisted that she didn’t play, scared that she’d somehow break her leg.
Instead, you decided to just do it by yourself.
Everyone got their phones out, ready to capture the embarrassing moment.
But what everyone didn’t expect, was their phones to capture a moment where you showed them the truth.
You really were a pro.
Finishing with a perfect score, you turned around and saw everyone’s jaws on the ground.
“I told you. I perfected my dancing in PE.”
Everyone took it in turns trying to beat your score but it was no use.
The night continued, and one by one, everyone left leaving just you and Leah.
You out something on the tv as you cuddled up to Leah’s side, freezing cold even though the heating was on.
“I’m gonna head up, le. See you in the morning.” Leah hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Night, tiny dancer.”
————————
“Viv! You posted it on Instagram?” You shouted over the phone.
You had woken up about five minutes ago, and picked up your phone.
You didn’t have many notifications but there was one that stood out.
Viv had tagged you in a video.
You clicked on it, curious as to what video she’d tagged you in, but as soon as the familiar setting of your living room, and the tv with just dance in it appeared, you knew exactly what viv had posted.
That’s what led to a very angry you shouting at your phone.
“It was too good not to post. I had to.” Viv explained, but you were too focused on Beth laughing in the background.
“Beth, do you seriously find this funny? You don’t understand, everyone is making edits of me playing just dance.” You stated, your mouth wide open at the fact they find this funny.
“Kid, you were good. Viv isn’t the only one who’s posted videos of you dancing.” Beth pointed out and you jaw dropped to the floor.
“What? Who else has?”
“Alessia, Katie, even Leah.” Viv responded.
Jumping up from your bed, you stormed over to Leah’s bedroom, banging on the door before an annoyed what was heard.
“You posted the video on TikTok. Out of everyone, I thought you’d be the last one to post it.” You said to Leah, a sense of betrayal in your voice.
“Sorry, kiddo, but I had to. And anyway, the fans love it. Look at what the fans are saying.” Leah suggested and you opened tiktok, Beth and Viv still on the phone.
“Listen, Y/N, the fans loved it. They even want more just dance videos.” Beth stated, as you scrolled through the comments of fans saying how well you did.
“Forgive us now, kid?” Leah asked, noticing how the frown on your face had disappeared.
Whilst Leah spoke to you, a specific comment caught your attention.
We need Viv and Leah to do it now
“I will, but under one condition. You and Viv do a dance with me.” You grinned cheekily, knowing that you were a soft spot for both Leah and Viv, so you knew they wouldn’t say no.
Leah’s face dropped and Viv let out a grunt of annoyance.
After just a matter of seconds, both of them agreed and you knew that this was gonna be good.
————————
“Viv, you’re doing it wrong! You go to the left, not the right.” You exclaimed in a fit of laughter as you recorded Leah and Viv dancing.
The whole team had gathered round to watch whilst they all recorded the embarrassing moment.
“I am going left! Leah’s just going the wrong way.” Viv defended, throwing her hands up in annoyance and anger.
“Follow the instructions on the tv. It’s easy.” You explained and both, Leah and Viv, turned around to look at you, disbelief written on their faces.
“It’s easy? No it is not, kid. This is fucking exhausting and hard.” Leah shouted, out of breath from the dancing.
“We couldn’t all do just dance in PE.” Viv pointed out and Leah nodded in agreement.
“Yeah because you’re both old.” You muttered under your breath, thinking you’d get away with the snarky comment but boy were you wrong.
You heard a gasp from next to you, turning your head to be met with Kyra and a cheeky smile in her face.
“Y/N just said you’re both old.” Kyra snitched and you squeezed your eyes close, dreading what was to come.
“You little shit. You make us do just dance and then call us old?” Leah frowned, hand on her hips.
“Fine. Maybe you’re not that old, but you’re not exactly young.”
“Right that’s it.” Leah grabbed ahold of you, tickling your sides as you helplessly tried to get her off you.
Desperate for help, you called out to your other teammates but it was no use, everyone was in a fit of laughter.
“Say you’re sorry and I’ll let you go. Actually, I’ll stop if you let us have chicken nuggets tonight and not complain.” Leah said, despite the laughter that was leaving your lips.
“Fine, fine. But only if I get to post the video of you and Viv dancing.” You compromised and Leah thought about it for a moment.
“Deal.”
“Hey, I never agreed!” Viv shouted, and you gave her a confused look.
“Sorry, I don’t understand you with your Scottish accent.” You stated, the sneaky comment sending laughter throughout the team.
“Right, that’s it kiddo. Leah, have chicken nuggets for the rest of the week.”
#woso community#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#womens football#woso fanfics#leah williamson x reader#vivianne miedema x reader#arsenal wfc#arsenal women
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two’s a party.
summary: you recently transferred to stanford, and decide to tutor a tennis player in your class. he has a friend. severe indecency ensues.
word count: 3.3k
warnings : smut, threesomes, f!oral receiving, swearing, smoking, drinking. slight cuck energy if you squint (i’m sorry ((no i’m not))). no challengers spoilers!
a/n: this fic got away from me big time but this movie has rotted my brain and as a result i have written utter debauchery that i will not apologize for. just had to get this out of my head, enjoy!
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stanford science hall. monday , march 3.
You swear the last thing you’ll hear before your body is lowered into your grave is the process of lactic acid breakdown.
It’s 2:30 PM. Kinesiology 189 with Professor Wilson, a lanky middle-aged man with a PhD in exercise science and a half-grown beard that you don’t think will ever fully grow in, is almost over. He’s teaching Extended Studies of the Human Body in a humid classroom filled with student-athletes, most of whom are trying to stay awake, trying to hide that they’re taking a nap, or making no attempt to hide that they’re on their phones. You don’t really blame any of them, because the professor’s voice is so soft and monotone that it feels like he’s begging everyone to pay attention to anything but him. You’ve managed to stay somewhat on course with the thread of today’s lecture, the notebook in front of you filled with scribbles of incomplete molecular structures and somewhat legible drawings of the muscular anatomy of a hamstring.
This class is required for your biology major since you’re on a pre-medicine track. You don’t know why you’re doing it, the whole doctor thing, but you’ve developed a weird fixation for this class. The functionality of the body, how muscles stretch and tear with each movement, and how amino acids work to build them back even bigger.
And, possibly because of the tennis player who sits four rows ahead of you every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
His last name is Donaldson. You know because of the faded label on the massive bag he throws on the floor every time he walks into class, at least ten minutes late with a backward Stanford Tennis cap on his head. His first name remains a mystery, partly because he never talks in class, and mainly because you’ve made no attempt to speak to him. You like to think it’s because you’re so focused on the curriculum.
Professor Wilson knows your name, though, since you’re in his office hours every Thursday at 11 A.M. In part because he gives out most of the answers to his homework, and because you just transferred to Stanford your last year and very desperately need a letter of recommendation for medical school. Hence why you agreed to tutor a student with lower than 60% in the class during one of your meetings. And why everyone in the class was staring at you right now.
“... first come first serve, so reach out to her sooner rather than later.”
You give a tight-lipped smile, glancing around the room. Most people have looked away, back to their distraction of choice, but you meet eyes with the fluffy blonde-haired tennis player.
stanford library. wednesday, march fifth.
It’s 11 A.M., and you feel like your brain is about to explode if you look at another practice set.
“Hey”.
Your head whips around to the harsh whisper, only to be met with the blue-eyed mystery from your class. He has that large bag slung over his shoulder, with the end of a tennis racket peeking out of it. His hair is slightly stuck to his face, and his compression tee is slick to his chest like a second skin.
“Hi,” you whisper back. He smiles before tossing his bag on the floor and sitting in the chair across from you, either unaware of or completely ignoring the glares he’s receiving from the other students studying.
“You know,” he pulls out some kind of nutrition bar from his bag, unwrapping it and taking an aggressive bite, “for someone advertising their services, you’re pretty hard to find.”
“You’re in Mr. Wilson’s class, right?” you ask, hoping your subdued voice will remind him that he’s in a notoriously quiet place. He hums, pointing at you with his half-eaten snack.
“And I’m trying not to fail, but you didn’t leave your number anywhere in the classroom, and you bolt after every class. So how am I supposed to patronize your tutoring services…” he trails off, his volume the same level as when he walked in. You furrow your brows as he leans back into the chair.
“That’s when you say who you are.”
You feel a burn on the back of your neck as you tell him your name. He glances down towards the problem set you’ve nearly finished.
“How do you turn in any of those, I can’t get halfway through one of them.”
You pause for a moment before leaning slightly across the table to whisper:
“This new weird thing called studying. I think it just got approved by the CDC.”
“Very funny,” he shakes his head as reaches for your binder with your class schedule printed out on the front of it.
“Why are you taking so many bio classes?”
“Because I’m a biology major,” you can’t help the sarcasm dripping from your voice, and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Sorry, you’re making this too easy for me,” you raise your hands in conceit.
“I have practice every day at five so you can tutor me for like an hour beforehand,” he says before standing up, crunching up the silver wrapper and stuffing it into the front pocket of his blue jeans. You scoff at his sentence.
“Well, thank you for so generously fitting me into your schedule,” you roll your eyes, turning the page in your textbook. He grins.
“Tell the coach you’re there for Art. They’ll let you through.”
stanford tennis courts. friday, march 7th.
It’s 4 PM, and the California sun is sweltering. Your shorts feel like they’ve become a part of your legs, and your bag feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. By the time you make it to the tennis courts Art is already on the green concrete, shirtless with beads of sweat dripping down his face and chest. You hear his grunts as he sprints across the court, hitting the ball toward a slightly taller brunette with dangerously short red shorts. You watch them at the entrance for a few minutes, slightly entranced as the two play so seamlessly, as if they know every move the other person is going to make. You force your eyes away as you walk up the bleachers, stepping over leftover water bottles and chip bags to sit down and grab your notes from your backpack. It takes a couple more minutes for Art to notice you, yelling your name after he turns around to grab a ball his partner had hit particularly hard. You wave, and he says something you can’t hear to the brunette before the two of them jog across the courts and up the stands to where you are, blocking the sun as the two stand side by side.
“Who’s your friend?” you ask as you stuff the problem set you were working on in between the pages of your notebook.
“I’m Patrick,” he says, with a toothy smile and his ears poking out from under his hair. He has a bit more of a boyish charm to him than Art does, whose eyes are glued to his brunette counterpart.
“Are you in Mr. Wilson’s class too?”
Patrick opens his mouth to answer but Art speaks first, slightly pushing his friend with his shoulder as he says “He doesn’t go to Stanford, too busy being a tennis pro.”
Patrick rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t leave his face. You notice how different this Art feels from the one in the library, how direct his playfulness is and how close he and Patrick stand together, their sweaty torsos nearly melding together.
Interesting.
“Like, Andre Agassi level pro?” you smile as the two of them laugh. Patrick raises the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his forehead, and you can’t help but take a glance at the exposed skin just above his waistband.
“Sorry, he’s like the only tennis player I know.”
“No, no I’m taking that as a compliment that you think I’m on the level of Agassi. No takebacks if you see me play,” Patrick points at you.
“Will do,” you salute, turning over to Art.
“You ready to study?” you ask him as he makes a comically loud groan, his head falling back. Patrick laughs, reaching over to ruffle his friends hair.
“You do remember that’s why I’m here, right? Midterms are in two weeks.”
“I definitely have not forgotten that.” he says. You purse your lips just as Patrick’s eyes seem to light up.
“I’m staying at the Courtyard Hotel for the weekend. You two can come over and study, I need to review my last match anyway. Kill two birds with one stone,” Patrick suggests.
“Just studying?”
“Just studying,” Art says, wrapping his arm around his friend's shoulder. You glance between the two of them, trying to decipher the unspoken communication they seem to be doing. But you can’t crack it, so you shrug.
“Sure.”
“Let us finish this set, and then you’ll have me all to yourself. Sound fair?”
“Wow, what a privilege. Don’t take too long, it’s hell on Earth out here!” you yell the last part as Art jogs down the steps and back down towards the net. You look up once you realize that the sun is still being blocked, and Patrick is still standing in front of you.
“You ever play?” he grins, flipping the tennis racket in his hand.
“Tennis? God, no, that would not be a pretty sight. I’ll stick to what I’m good at,” you gesture to the books and notes in your lap. Patrick nods.
“If you ever want to learn, I could teach you sometime, you know if-” he’s cut off by Art yelling his name, and you both glance to see him with his hands on his hips.
“Go, don’t keep your boyfriend waiting,” you wave him off, and you swear you can see him blushing. Must have been the glare.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder as he runs toward Art.
courtyard hotel. saturday, march 8.
It’s 11 pm. There’s a cold shiver in the elevator as you wait to get to the fourth floor, your tennis shoes tapping against the floor as one hand plays with the handle of the pack of beer in your hand while the other crumples and re-crumples the piece of paper with the hotel room number Patrick scribbled on it.
what are you doing?
You don’t have time to think about the consequences of your actions as the robotic voice signals that you’re on the fourth floor, the elevator doors fluttering open. It’s like your feet have a mind of their own, as you find yourself almost mindlessly wandering through the hotel halls until you’re planted in front of room 4B. You raise your hand to knock on the door but before you can make contact with the wood it’s thrust open, and Patrick is standing behind it. His dark hair is slightly tousled around his face, his striped shirt unbuttoned and his black boxer briefs low on his waist. He’s smiling, that same big smile as before, but his face is a little flushed, a gentle pink hue touching his cheeks. The two of you don’t say anything for a few seconds, as if you were both testing to see who would concede first to acknowledge the other’s presence. You raise the pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon in your right hand.
“I brought studying fuel.”
You were never good at waiting.
Patrick laughs before he moves slightly out of the way to allow you to walk into his room. It’s small, with a queen-sized bed and a tiny desk, and the A/C emits an odd rumbling sound as it smacks against the window. Clothes and scorecards are strewn across the floor, and the scent of cigarettes permeates the room. You place the alcohol on the floor before deciding to sit on the bed, kicking off your shoes as you cross your legs. Patrick seems to stall for a moment, smiling to himself before closing the door behind him. He doesn’t lock the door, but you didn’t notice.
“Art’s not here yet?” you ask, watching as Patrick walks over and tears open the cardboard case, cracking open a can. Taking a sip, he leans against the desk as he smiles.
“Art can be bad with time.”
“As I’ve noticed,” you reach your hand out to motion towards the drink and Patrick hands it to you, staring as you take a large sip.
“Well,” you wipe the side of your mouth, “I told him to bring the topics he wanted to study, so I guess we can’t do anything until he gets here.”
Patrick nods with a slight pout, his fingers playing with the pop tab of the can. “I guess we can’t.”
“How’s tennis… stuff,” you laugh as you finish the question, not sure of exactly what to say.
Patrick seems to tense a little at the mention of the sport, moving over to sit next to you on the bed. His knee grazes your leg and you feel a slight buzz at the contact as he takes the beer from your hand.
“I’m kinda fucking it up right now,” he says, and you furrow your brows.
“How? You were like, really good yesterday.”
He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He hands you the beer and you finish it off, placing the empty can at the bottom of your feet.
“I’m good with Art. It feels so fucking natural and easy with him. But in my other matches, I don’t know. I just … can’t replicate it.”
You nudge him with your leg.
“Sounds like you two were made to play tennis together.”
He makes a noise of agreement, his hands slowly moving to ghost over your thigh.
“You and Art are pretty close?” you ask as he plays with the bottom hem of your shorts, but he doesn’t say anything. You take his silence as a yes.
“Do you ever get jealous?”
“Of Art?” he asks, almost incredulously. You shrug.
“Yeah, or jealous of the girls he’s with. Either or.”
Patrick sits on that for a few moments before smirking.
“What’s mine is mine, and what’s his is mine.”
You laugh at that, a real deep laugh, and Patrick giggles next to you, the both of you tipsy from the can of beer you finished. You reach over and put your hand on his flushed face, rubbing your hand across his cheek.
“What were you doing before I came?” you feel his face warm even more against your skin as you position yourself closer to him.
“Practicing- or, sorry, rereading my scorecards from my last match.”
You tutted as you moved your hand to the back of his neck, gently running your hands through his hair.
“You can tell me the truth, Patrick.”
He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand before looking up at you as if to check if that was too much. Whatever your expression is gives him the confidence to move down to your neck, his tongue licking your skin.
“I think you know.”
You feel a pull in your lower stomach at his words, muffled by his mouth nipping at the sensitive spot just below your ear, and he sucks hard enough for you to put your hand around on his face at the pressure. Pulling his face up, the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, and his eyes glance toward your lips. You wanted to wait, to make him beg and plead for it, but your body seemingly pulled you forward as your pressed your mouth onto his.
You were really quite bad at waiting.
He tastes like tobacco and faintly of the fruit medley in the dining hall, and you sigh as his lips interlock with yours and his hand grabs the back of your neck, pressing you into him. The kiss gets messy and hard, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip and into your mouth as you lift your leg to straddle Patrick, grinding into him. He whimpers into the kiss as his calloused hands drop down to the waistband of your shorts, hesitating for a moment before dropping his hand into your underwear. You grind just a little bit faster as his fingers press circles into your clit, covering your mouth with your hand as you moan.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he uses his other hand to guide your hips, and your move your hands down to tug firmly on his hair. You can feel your climax building, the pressure in your stomach getting closer and closer to taking you over the edge-
You both jump at the sound of the hotel room dor slamming shut. Art is standing there, in that damn backward cap and a Stanford tee shirt as he crosses his arms over his chest, saying nothing as you and Patrick sit up straight, him adjusting his crotch and you smooth down your shirt, avoiding his gaze. Finally, the silence is broken by Art laughing.
“Christ, I’m not the cops,” he slips out of his slides as he waltzes over and opens a can of beer, drinking about half of it in one go. You look at him, and at Patrick, and then back at him, not knowing what the hell you just got yourself into.
“You want to fuck him right?” Art asks, and you can’t help your small gasp at how easily he said that. You glance at Patrick, hoping he’ll know what to say, but he’s just staring at Art.
“I-um,”
“So, no one’s stopping you,” Art cuts you off, taking a final swig of his beer and moving to stand directly in front of you. You open your mouth to try and explain, but before you can talk Patrick’s mouth is on yours again, his hand roaming your body. His grip is firmer now, his fingertips digging into the side of your stomach. He tugs at the bottom of your shirt and you separate, breathless as you pull your shirt over your head and toss it on the floor. Patrick’s mouth moves down to your neck, then your collarbones, and then your chest as he reaches around to take of your bra, and you feel on fire from Art’s gaze across the room. As Patrick kisses down your stomach and yanks down your shorts, you turn over to meet Art’s eyes.
“Come here.”
Whatever resolve Art was holding onto crumbles as he quickly takes off his shirt and slips out of his Nike shorts, tossing his hat on the dresser. In a flash Art’s hands are on your neck, tilting your head around to kiss you as Patrick lifts up your hips so he can take off your underwear. Art’s lips are softer than Patrick’s but he kisses you a little bit harder, his hand cupping the base of your neck. Somehow, they both taste the same. You moan into Art’s mouth as you feel Patrick’s tongue swirl around your clit, rolling your hips into his mouth as Art’s cock presses into your back. It’s just so much so fast, and that familiar buzz starts to pool in your lower stomach.
“Look at him,” Art turns your head to Patrick and you look into his eyes as you cum, Art’s hands hold your head forward as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Patrick’s hands are digging into your hips as he stares up at you and Art. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, leaning against Art as Patrick leans back up, his mouth a few inches from yours.
“Who do you want first?
#challengers#challengers fanfic#art donaldson#patrick zweig#art donaldson fanfic#patrick zweig fanfic#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x patrick zweig#art donaldson x patrick zweig x reader#mike faist#josh o’connor#mike faist x reader#josh o’connor x reader#mike faist fanfic#josh o’connor fanfic
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Daddy’s Girl
pairing: Daniel x Stroll Reader
summary: you start dating the one driver your brother hates more than anyone
a/n: thanks for the request!!
requests open masterlist
——————
“Lancie, you can’t just leave me here!” you pout at your older brother.
“Sorry, I have to go. Go be a pain in the ass somewhere else, you brat,” Lance replies as a sibling tends to do. You huff and walk towards where you assume Aston Martin is, but you end up lost a minute later.
“Are you lost?” an Australian man says behind you. You quickly turn about-face, looking at what might be the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.
“A little, yeah,” you blush, quickly looking down so you aren’t just staring at him.
“I’m Daniel, where is a beautiful girl like you going?” He asks, hoping you’ll look at him again with your beautiful eyes.
“Aston Martin, my name is Y/n,” you introduce yourself, extending your hand for him to shake it, purely on reflex. Daniel takes your hand in his and doesn’t let go.
“You’re in luck, I’m going to my garage right beside it. Might as well give you the tour while we’re at it,” he says and that’s when it clicks. This is Daniel Ricciardo, the guy who your brother really doesn’t like. Shit. The two of you chat and laugh as he shows you around.
“Thanks for the tour,” you blush a little as you stand outside VCARB and Aston Martin, not really wanting to let his hand go. He doesn’t either, your hand fits perfectly in his. Daniel knows exactly who you are, he’s been crushing on you for a few months since he saw a photo Lance posted of you.
“Can I take you out for dinner or coffee sometime?” he asks, a little hopeful you’d agree since he was still holding your hand. You quickly agree, typing your number into his phone.
“Text me,” you smile, heading into the familiar green space.
“There you are, sweetheart, I was getting worried!” your dad says, walking to you.
“Sorry Daddy, I was exploring,” you aren’t technically lying as you hug your father.
“That’s okay, just let me know where you are next time, okay?” he asks. relieved you aren’t hurt. You are his baby girl after all.
“I promise. Lance just had to leave and I didn’t know where I was,” you admit.
“He should know better, I’ll talk to him later. Do you want tea? Coffee? Breakfast? Did you eat?” Lawrence starts to fuss over you. You can’t lie to yourself, you enjoy that your dad spoils you, to him you can do no wrong, even if he has a no boys until you are 25 policy.
Over the next few months you accompany your brother to his races, under the guise that you really enjoyed going the first time. You’ve been secretly seeing Daniel, your now boyfriend. It’s thrilling, rebelling against your dad.
“Danny,” you grin, jumping into his arms in the small alley between the two motorhomes.
“Hi baby,” he hugs you tight, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“I missed you,” you breathe in his scent.
“It’s only been a few hours, baby. You should be wearing my team shirt, you’d look so hot,” he smirks and you jokingly hit his arm.
“Don’t say that in front of my father, he’ll have an aneurysm,” you laugh, Daniel watches happily as your face scrunches with the laugh.
“Noted,” he is just content to be holding you in his arms.
“Speaking of, I want you to properly meet my dad and Lance,” you say a little shyly. You know how fast gossip travels around the paddock now, and you don’t want to be exposed before you have a chance to tell your family.
“Anything for you, Y/n, as long as you are ready for it,” Daniel kisses your head.
“Thank you for agreeing, I just don’t it to get out before we tell our friends and families. They deserve better than that,” you admit, Daniel’s heart swells. You have a reputation for being a spoiled daddy’s girl from people who don’t know you, but he knows you and how kind you are.
“Just let me know when and where,” he promises, knowing that your family is everything to you. He can ignore his rocky relationship with Lance, he just hopes Lance can. You chat and make out for a few more minutes before parting.
“Daddy, is it okay if I invite a friend to dinner with us tonight?” you ask, giving your dad the look he can never say no to.
“Of course sweetheart, I’ll add an extra spot to our reservation,” Lawrence is curious about who you are inviting, but he doesn’t push it. You grin, texting Daniel the details. You pick Daniel up in your custom DB12, he takes a second to appreciate the car. It’s racing green exterior and tan interior with black detailing. Daniel isn’t sure why he didn’t expect you to drive it, but he also feels like it perfectly fits you.
“Have you pushed this baby to her limits?” Daniel asks with his cheeky smile.
“I may not be a race driver, but I do know how to properly appreciate all she can do,” you grin, neither confirming or denying.
“That’s my girl. Anything I should know?” He asks and you properly look at his outfit, navy dress pants paired with a white dress shirt that has the top couple buttons undone and navy suit jacket.
“Just that you look handsome, and to be yourself. I like you for who you are, that should be enough for them,” you tell him, so close to saying that you love him. Daniel’s hand rests on your leg as you drive, the hum of the engine filling any lulls in conversation. You enter the private dining room a couple steps ahead of Daniel so you can properly introduce him, your Dad and Lance stand up.
“Daddy, Lancie, I’d like you to properly meet my boyfriend, Daniel,” Daniel walks in behind you, immediately going to your father to shake his hand first, then Lance, then pulling out your seat for you. He takes a seat beside you, you hold his hand under the table, giving it a squeeze.
“Your boyfriend?” Lance asks, visibly hurt. He had told you that he didn’t like Daniel, and he wishes you had told you.
“I really like him, Lance. He treats me like a princess and makes me happy,” your eyes plead with your brother as he stands up.
“Sorry, I just need a second,” Lance tells your father and steps into the hallway.
“He makes you happy?” Lawrence asks you, trying to ease your distressed look. You just nod. “I’m not thrilled, but if he makes you happy, that’s what matters,” your dad says and you feel Daniel squeeze your hand, and you look at him. Daniel nods, as if he’s reading your mind.
“I’ll be right back, Daddy, I need to talk to Lance,” your voice is a little shaky as you join your brother in the hallway. You can hear your dad interrogating Daniel.
“Lancie?” You ask softly, your brother facing away from you.
“Y/n, please, I just need a minute,” you can hear the strain in his voice, but something keeps you from backing down.
“I’m really sorry, I wanted you to know in case it got leaked by someone, you and Dad are one of the first to know,” you say, hoping it helps.
“You should’ve told me before you ever even went on a date with him. You know I don’t like him,” Lance turns to you, clearly upset.
“Lance-”
“I’m going home, tell Dad please,” Lance huffs, mad at you and you feel a pit in your stomach.
“Lance, please,” you fight with every fiber of your being not to cry.
“I’m not mad at you, I promise. I just need to be alone and process it,” Lance hugs you, and while you are sure he’s lying about not being mad, it does help. Truthfully, he’s mad at Daniel. To Lance, he is using you to get back at you. You take a second before entering the dining room again.
“Lance is going home, he said he needed to be alone,” you sit at your seat, Daniel’s hands immediately finding yours.
“Daniel seems like a good guy, even if he is too old for you. I will allow it, but if you hurt her you will never find yourself in a race again,” Lawrence threatens, and you know he isn’t bluffing.
“Yes, sir. Your daughter is perfect in every way, I would never dream of hurting her,” Daniel replies, looking at you, eyes full of admiration, a look that you easily return. Lawrence silently notes to look into Daniel’s Red Bull contract.
“I’ll talk to Lance, you know he likes to over react,” Lawrence says, signaling for the waiter to take your order.
It takes a couple weeks for Lance to start talking to you again, and after a few months of watching you and Daniel together, he lets the negative feelings go. By a year later, they are like brothers, and you think that Lance and Lawrence like Daniel better than you. Especially since Lawrence gifted Daniel a similar version of your car.
“Y/n, what would’ve happened if your dad and Lance both never came around,” Daniel asks one afternoon as you lounge beside the pool, his arm wrapped around you.
“Probably would’ve dumped you. I couldn’t hide and lie from Daddy for too long, too much of a Daddy’s girl for that,” you smile with a small shrug. Daniel sits up a little, you look up at him.
“Yes you are,”
“DANIEL!”
#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo imagines#daniel ricciardo imagine#lance stroll
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not enough l max verstappen x reader
request/summary – Hi! Can I request for an angsty Max Verstappen x Reader where she is just a normal girl y’know not the “supermodel” type like the other WAGs and she also leads a normal life with a normal job, thus why she got so much hate from the media and the fangirls. Never quite fit in with the other WAGs either. At some point it’s all getting too much and she decided to break up with Max because she truly believes that she’s not meant for this life but then she saw Max stands up for her during a press conference?? I had this scenario in mind while listening to Gold Rush by Taylor Swift, if that also helps! Thank you <3
author's notes – HELLO??/ LANDO WIN??? IM SO PROUD OF HIM! do expect another fic coming out this weekend around lando's win. it will be self indulgent about reader missing the race 🤕 keep an eye out but enjoy this in the meantime and keep sending in requests!!
Max and I sat in our hotel room the night before the race weekend started. I was sat on the floor as I tried to help Max with unpacking his suitcase. I had, by some miracle, convinced my lovely (but not exactly fashionable) boyfriend to wear some non-Red Bull clothes for once to the paddock. He reluctantly agreed, since he knew I barely come to races with him due to my tight schedule, and this was the least he could do for me.
“Okay, idea. How about, you wear the Miami GP button up…and then the black jeans I bought with you, the baggy ones, and then your usual shoes? Not too much out of your comfort zone, I hope?” I ask with excitement as I look back up towards him.
“And what if I don’t like it?” He asks, clearly unsure of the whole idea. I nod understandingly. “Well, I mean, of course you don’t have to, Maxie. But I just thought it’d be fun. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say softly as I try and search his face for any signs for the reason to his reluctance.
I watched as his head dropped down to his lap. “And what if I look stupid in it?” He asks quietly. I immediately felt my heart melt. “Baby, why ever would you think that? You’ll look great in it, promise. But it’s okay if you don’t want to, we can try again some other time, okay?” I say softly as I interlock our hands to comfort him. He nodded.
——
When we got to the paddock, I felt a little out of place, knowing all the other WAGs would be there. Max notices me fidgeting nervously with my fingers, and he brings my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it before intertwining our fingers. During all the practice sessions, quali, and the race, I felt awfully like an outsider. All the other girls were supermodels, and very conventionally attractive. I felt like the stand out amongst them, and not in a good way. They all talked with each other earnestly about the newest dress shop they just found, and while they had no malicious intentions of leaving me out, it just didn’t work with my humor and their tastes.
With a sigh, I go roam the paddock. Max finds me afterwards, a little confused. “Hey schatje, I thought you were with the other girlfriends?” He asks softly as his arm slings around my shoulders to bring me with him as he walks to the garage. I try and brush off the left out feeling I had from earlier and just shrug. “I was just getting a little bored, nothing much,” I say as I shoot him a quick smile. “You sure?” He asks with raised brows as he looks at me knowingly. I nod with a hum, giving him a kiss before I send him off to his meetings.
After the race, Max flies to Monaco for the next race, and I fly back to the UK to my place as I didn’t have any more days off. I open my phone a few days after, scrolling on twitter as usual. I felt my heart sink a little as I see a tweet with all of the WAGs being spotted hanging out. I felt my stomach churn at the way their skin glowed, and their clothes hung off their figures so delicately yet so effortlessly. It was stupid to feel jealous of them, I knew it was. But it was also stupid of me to think I could ever have been a part of the same category they were. And unfortunately, the replies to the tweet all agreed.
maxfan93739 – I wonder why max’s girl isn’t there?
georgeschassis – why would she be there? she’s not even a model?
dutchlion – I don’t even think she’s talked to them before
landosbandage – yeah she’s not like the other gfs, she usually keeps to herself
I turned off my phone, unable to think straight. Max called me that night to let me know that he got his schedule cleared by some miracle and was gonna fly out to be with me in the morning, but I had already fallen asleep from exhaustion. I hadn’t ate the whole day, staying in my bed under the covers, burying myself from everything and everyone until my eyes closed from fatigue.
I woke up the familiar sound of Max playing with my cat in the morning, a few laughs from him. I felt like I was going to throw up, so dizzy that I didn’t even question the fact that Max was at my place so suddenly. I opened up my phone to the usual tweets, and I couldn’t stop myself from searching up my name, seeing what people were saying about me.
she’s so much fatter and shorter than the other gfs, don’t know why max is with her…..
annoying people attract annoying people ig…….
Max is a three time world champion, he shouldn’t be with an ugly girl whose using him for his money and fame……
we’ve never even seen her support him in public, she plays it off as being introverted and shy as if we don’t know what she’s doing.
I slam my phone face down as I hear Max’s voice. “Schat? Hey, I didn’t know you were awake. I called you last night to tell you I was gonna fly in last minute, but I think you already fell asleep, right?” Max asks with no suspicion of what I was just doing. I nodded. “You want some breakfast, love? I ordered in some waffles from that place you love?” He asks excitedly.
I stay silent for a moment, thinking of the tweets. “Uh, you know what? I think I’ll skip out on breakfast today,” I say with a nonchalant smile. His smile falters. “Baby, you need to have breakfast or else you’ll be hungry. It’s not healthy,” he says as his voice softens. “No no no, I know, Maxie. I just had a really heavy dinner last night. Like really heavy. If I need a snack before I’ll lunch I’ll take it, don’t worry,” I say to try and convince him. I hold my breath as he scans me, thinking about my answer, before finally nodding and accepting it. “You tell me if you need a snack, alright?” He says as he presses a kiss on my forehead.
This kept going on for many days, me making excuses about my meals like me eating when he was working out, or having a snack earlier, or that I felt super full from the last meal. Finally, one morning Max confronts me.
He walks up to me while I’m sitting on the couch, my cat in my lap as I’m petting it. “Schatje, we need to talk. I know exactly what you’re doing. You’ve barely been eating, my love, what’s going on?” He asks with concern lacing his voice as he sits down next to me.
I stiffen slightly, my stomach knotting up as I think about what he’s referring to. “Why don’t you ask twitter?” I say coldly. I see him sigh immediately, pursing his lips. “You know twitter isn’t good to listen to. It’s all bullshit, love,” he says as he tries to reach his arm out to me. I pull away, letting my cat go as I stand up.
“Max, this is exhausting. I cannot constantly feel like every part of me is ugly because of the other WAGs being so stupidly beautiful because they’re models. I cannot handle being in the spotlight and having every single mannerism of mine criticized, every fluctuation in weight pinpointed and spotlighted for the world to see. I can’t do….. this,” I say with a sigh.
He takes a few minutes to process what I’ve just said. “You can’t do…. us? Is that what you’re saying?”
I gulp, my silence being enough of an answer for him. “Oh come on, you can’t be serious. You’re gorgeous, and I don’t care that other girlfriends are models. I only care about you. Please, we can make this work,” he pleads softly.
I shake my head. “I’ve been trying, Max. I’ve been trying to make it work this whole time. It’s just not happening. It’s too much for me. I need time away from it all.”
“You’re doing this to yourself, it doesn’t have to be like this,” he mutters with a voice of frustration.
I felt my eyes roll in frustration. “You just don’t get it! I wish so badly the I could just, not care the way you do, but unfortunately I care very very much about what they all say! And don’t you fucking dare blame this on me!” I snapped at him unintentionally, hurt that he’s blaming me right now when I very clearly needed him right now.
“I’m not trying to blame you! But why don’t you believe me? That I’ll protect you from it all like I have been doing! You don’t need to break up with me for this, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters out, his voice slightly raising now.
I felt myself hold back tears in the back of my throat, not used to the angry tone my boyfriend was using, as I flinched at his tone. I sniffled, trying to hold back the tears with a shaky breath.
He takes a few seconds before he sighs, unable to change my mind. He clenches his jaw, slamming the door to our bedroom. By morning, all his stuff, including him, were gone from my place.
Soon enough, the fans noticed. Noticed that I was no longer liking and commenting under Max’s posts, that I was no longer interrupting his streams, that Max didn’t talk about me much anymore.
A media reporter came up to Max during the race weekend for an interview. At the end, he asked, “It looks like you and your partner are not talking anymore, no?”
Max brushed it off casually in the way he always does about private matters to the media. “Uh, well, every relationship has its ups and down, you know? But that is something I prefer to keep private.”
“Well, better to be rid of her,” the reporter says jokingly. Max’s eyes suddenly shifted into a more serious tone. “No? She’s amazing and gorgeous and kind and intelligent. So no, it’s my loss, really. And either way, you have no right to talk about any woman like that,” he says firmly before walking off.
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Dirty Little Secret
Stepson!Leon S. Kennedy x Stepmom!Reader <one shot>
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pseudo incest, cheating, loveless marriage? lol, mommy kink, breeding kink, mentions of lactation kink, dirty talk, noncon, slight somno, mention of a rape play scenario, unprotected sex, creampie
not proofread ✍️ just smut
title from Dirty Little Secret by The All American Rejects
You thought it was love. This guy wined and dined you then showed you the world. So when he proposes to you only three months into your relationship, you’re so smitten that you agree before he even finishes asking.
It must’ve been the honeymoon phase because a year later, you’re stuck at home while he galivants around the globe for his business. It’s not like you have a hard time, but you’re lonely, done begging for attention from a man who apparently just wanted someone to live in his empty house while he’s gone.
Then after months of stilted phone calls and cut short video chats, he drops by only to surprise you with a son from a previous marriage. Something you knew nothing about. After introducing Leon to you, he leaves him there—some flimsy excuse of letting you two get to know each other—and is off again once more.
Leon smiles at you as his dad leaves, “Sorry to drop in like this.”
Your frown smooths out as you take a deep breath, “Not your fault, sorry if I’m off kilter. He didn’t even tell me about you til now.”
You wince after saying the words out loud but Leon only laughs.
“It’s okay. I’ll stay out of your hair as much as possible.”
You wave your hand, “Don’t be silly, it’ll be nice to have company again.”
He smiles again but this one makes you feel a little more on edge, something about the way it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Well then, I’m sure we’ll get on like a house on fire.”
You settle into a new routine, Leon fitting into your day to day pretty easily. He’s sarcastic and mouthy, but it beats only having yourself for company. Your husband dropped off his son in late January and it’s now early May; it’s like you blinked and realized you haven’t even had anyone else visit except for Leon’s actual mom. (She’s surprisingly a sweetheart and quite helpful even if she makes Leon all moody to have her in your shared space).
It’s after one such visit that left Leon in an irritable mood where you decide to have a little movie night in order to cheer him up. You’re unsure as to what started it this time, but the ex missus just gave you a quick smile and wave goodbye as Leon stormed off upstairs. Taking in a deep breath, you rap your knuckles on his closed door and listen for any movement.
Half a minute passes by before you hear him walk over and open the door. You take in his sweats and loose white tee. Good, it doesn’t look like he's headed out—you tilt your head before looking back up into his face.
“Yes?” He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, a corner of his lips ticking up into a half smile.
“Wanna watch some shitty horror movies and order pizza?” You smile, pleased with yourself when he drops his arms.
“Sure,” he shrugs, tossing his phone back onto his bedspread and pushing you away from his door, closing it behind him, “w’nna order a cheese pizza?”
“Sounds good,” you lead him back downstairs, flopping down on the couch and grabbing your phone.
Leon sits on the cushion next to you, leaning over to watch as you scroll through the app.
“Want any sides or anything?” You ask, attention still on your phone.
“Pizza’s plenty.”
You feel his breath ghost across your neck and it sends a chill down your spine. Scrunching your shoulders up, you laugh and bump against his side.
“That tickles, Leon,” you shift a little and you feel him move to face the television.
Once you place the order, you lock your phone and sink into the couch. Leon’s close enough you can feel his body heat, but you know if you move he’ll end up next to you again. It’s something you’ve noticed over the time that he’s stayed here; you’ve only brought it up once and he admitted he likes being close since he misses his mom.
You frown to yourself as Leon channel surfs, not wanting to start any movies only for it to be interrupted by the delivery guy. For him to miss his mom so much, he’s always pissy when she visits. Maybe he’s just salty that she let him end up living here with you? Glancing over at him, he notices you looking and shoots you a grin.
“Have any idea on what movie we start with?”
You return his grin and drum your fingers against your thigh, “Hmmm, you ever watch Spookies?”
He shakes his head, “I’m assuming it’s bad?”
“The worst but in the best way,” you laugh.
He studies you for a moment.
“Thanks for trying to cheer me up.”
Giddy warmth bubbles in your chest, “Of course, Leon. I know the situation probably isn’t ideal, but I’ll take care of you.”
He laughs low in his throat, “We’re nearly the same age.”
You wave him off, “Yeah, yeah, but I’m still older though.”
Lapsing into a companionable silence, you mindlessly watch as Leon zips through different shows until the doorbell rings. After stuffing your faces with pizza, you settle in comfortably on the couch, feet laying over Leon’s lap after he tugged your legs away from you.
“No reason to stay curled up like that,” he pats your calf.
Unsure how to feel, you eventually relax into him. If it doesn’t bother him, then why should it bother you? The heat from his lap must lull you to sleep because the next thing you know is blinking your eyes open to some random movie playing on the tv. Another beat and you groggily glance down your body at the new weight pressing you into the cushions.
Sandy blonde hair fills your vision as you feel Leon softly suck a nipple into his mouth. Without you noticing, he has pushed your flimsy shirt up and tugged your bra cups down. Squirming under him only leads to him sighing softly, eyes fluttering shut as he licks around your stiff peaks.
“Stop, stop,” you pant, feeling sluggish and out of sorts, arms and legs feeling wooden as sleep tries to cling to your senses.
Leon only laughs and goes back to softly sucking on your nipples, mouth drifting from one hard bud to the other with quick swipes of his tongue.
“But mommy, you said you’d take care of me,” his low voice raises the hair on your arms, “mmm, and what I really need is to suck your sexy tits.”
There’s no denying the rush of slick that fills the gusset of your panties.
“S’wrong, Leon,” you counter, weakly crying out when he gently bites your nipple.
“Maybe, but I think you need this, need me to take care of you. After all, my dad’s not going to,” he growls and roughly sucks the puckered skin around your stiff bud, “you need a husband who wants to stuff your hot little pussy.”
A loud keening moan leaves your mouth before you can clamp your lips shut.
His eyes are bright as a grin lights up his face, “See? C’mon, no one has to know that you let your stepson dick you down on the couch.”
Hips jumping, you mewl as he goes back to lapping at your nipples, hands coming up to grope the soft fat of your breasts.
“Been waiting for this,” he murmurs into your sternum, mouth leaving a trail of hot kisses across your skin, “fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad, mommy.”
The condescension in that one word makes you drip, pussy throbbing for more than just words.
“W-we shouldn’t though,” you try to get a grip on yourself, hands hovering over his hair, “god, I’m married to your father.”
“Is he here? Is he ever here?” He raises up and sneers at you, “never around when you need’em huh?”
Raising up onto his haunches he gives you a nasty smirk, “But that’s why you have me now. I’m gonna pound your hot little pussy day and night. Maybe it’ll even make you a real mommy.”
“Leon!” You gasp, nipples tightening at the thought, hands digging into the couch.
But he’s telling the truth. Your husband is never home— hasn’t called you back and barely replies to texts. You’ve been lonely and neglected even before Leon got here; so what if it’s wrong? It won’t kill anyone just to go along with him this one time. So that’s what you decide to tell him.
“This one time,” you whisper, biting your lip as you give in to him, “just once.”
He laughs, “Sure, I can work with that.”
Once turns into twice.
“It’s still just the one time,” you pant as he fucks into your squelching pussy, face mashed against the armrest of the couch, “it’s still the same round.”
“Sure, mommy,” he murmurs in your ear and you clamp down on him tighter, “whatever you say.”
Which turns into three and four and then five…
By the next afternoon, you're bouncing on your stepson’s fat cock in your own marriage bed.
“Fuck, fuck, I need it, please, I wanna cum,” you whimper, grinding down onto Leon’s dick, “please.”
“Take it then, mommy, take your son’s cock deep in that little pussy,” he growls, thumb rubbing your clit in tight rough circles.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, eyes rolling back as Leon’s fat tip kisses your cervix, “god, it’s so good.”
“Yeah? Better than dad’s?” Leon asks, flashing you a smug little smile.
“Uh huh,” you whine, hands pressing on his broad chest so you can ride him harder, “you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had.”
“Goddamn,” he growls, grabbing your waist and flipping you onto your back.
Pulling halfway out, he bullies his cock back into your sopping wet hole, pace fast and hard making you wail as he rams against your g-spot.
“Tell me mommy, tell me who’s making this fat pussy feel so good,” he pinches your nipples, “c’mon mommy, say it.”
“You,” you whimper, tears clumping your lashes, “you’re making mommy’s pussy feel so good.”
“Who?”
“My son,” you cry out as he tugs your nipples roughly, “my son’s filling my pussy and making me cum.”
“Good girl, mommy,” he coos mockingly and you squeeze his cock, pussy walls snug and wet around his thick length.
“I’ve given you so many creampies,” he sighs, “fuck, I hope one of them takes. Wanna drink your milk.”
You shudder, hips stilling, “That’s so—”
“Hot?” He slaps your thigh and you start grinding on his cock again, “these tits leaking milk for me would be a dream come true. Let me breed you, mommy.”
“I can’t,” you mewl, clit throbbing as you rock your hips into his thrusts, “can’t get knocked up by my stepson.”
Leon groans, “It’ll just be the one time. Besides, I’ve been dumping load after load into this tight little cunt. We both know you want it, mommy. Making that pussy crave to have me stuffing her to the brim.”
You lean forward, face pressing against his neck as you moan brokenly.
“I shouldn’t,” you hiccup, hips writhing as Leon reaches underneath you to grip your ass.
“It’ll be our little secret,” he humps your pussy, cock knocking against your cervix and making you squeal, “let me breed you, mommy. Let your son breed your fat pussy.”
“I’m gonna cum,” you slur, mouth panting and drooling against his skin, “oh god, you’re gonna make me cum.”
“Next time, I want you to fight me,” he whispers in your ear and you moan, “fight me so when I pin you down, I’ll be raping your hot wet pussy until you cream all over my cock, mommy.”
Your nails dig into his back and you scream, orgasm wiping out your thoughts as your body thrashes under Leon.
“I’m cumming, fuck, mommy, gonna fill you up again,” he rambles, hips pistoning his cock in and out of your pussy as you continue to orgasm.
The last thing you see is Leon’s blue eyes staring down at you as your pussy milks his cock while he spurts rope after rope of thick cum inside your clenching hole.
You wake up sometime later with Leon running his fingers along your arm and shoulder.
“You okay?”
You hum and nod, stretching out along the bed, feeling a slight twinge in your hips.
“May’ve over done it,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.
Leon laughs and drops a kiss to your head.
“Yeah I got that after you passed out.”
Giggling, you turn on your side to face him.
“Need to drink more water I guess.”
He nods, a funny sort of smile overtaking his features.
“You’re not gonna tell anyone right?”
You scoff and roll your eyes, “Why would I? Even if we’re both adults, I don’t think anyone’s gonna be happy it happened.”
Sighing, you push up until you can swing your legs over the side of the bed.
“I’m gonna take a shower.”
Standing up, your thighs shake but you’re able to walk over to the en-suite bathroom. At the doorway, you turn back to see Leon staring at you, a hungry look in his eyes. You bite your lip knowing what you’re about to say isn’t a good idea, but what the hell. You’re already in it this far.
“If you wash my back, I’ll wash yours,” tone flirty as you smile at him.
Not waiting for an answer, you walk into the bathroom, listening as the sheets ruffle from Leon climbing out of bed to follow you.
#pseudo incest#stepson!leon#stepmom!reader#fem!reader#stepson!leon s kennedy#leon s kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy smut#resident evil fanfiction
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Textual Encounter
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU
Summary: Text fic. Wrong number meet-cute over text.
Warnings: none... this is fluff and humour.
Word Count: 1.4k
Summary: Fic request fill for Anon (HERE). I kept it fun and fluffy, but yeah, I can see a sequel where they sext. Thanks to @colettebronte for the read-through. Enjoy! <3
Y/N: Hey Liz, it’s y/n y/l/n. Kindle Spa gave me your mobile. Said you had moved to another salon. I don’t trust anyone else to wax me tbh. Big date this week, kwim 😉 Can I get an appt? I’ll come to you. Doesn’t matter where.
BB: Errr, I think you have the wrong number…
Y/N: Not Liz?
BB: Nope, Ben here.
Y/N: Not a waxer, I presume?
BB: I may have waxed lyrical in my time, may even have lit a few candles. Have not waxed anyone no - my own body or anyone else’s. Yet. But I’m game to try anything once...
Y/N: Lol.
BB: Big date, eh?
Y/N: ….Yeah. Not that it's any of your business, stranger Ben.
BB: Fair.
BB: Does it hurt?
Y/N: ??
BB: Getting waxed.
Y/N: Oh. Yeah. Like a motherfucker. But you sorta get used to it, tbh. And it’s so much less itchy than shaving regrowth, especially in sensitive areas… Wait, why am I having this convo with a complete stranger?!
BB: We don’t have to be strangers.
BB: I’m Ben, 33, London.
BB: I have no strong opinions on hair removal methods.
Y/N: lol. K. I’m y/n, 28, also London.
Y/N: I, as you can see, do have some opinions.
BB: Hi y/n 👋
BB: I hope you can find Liz. Or someone else to assist with your hair needs.
Y/N: I would like it stated, for the record, I’m not hairy like a troll. I just like to keep things neat.
BB: The lady doth protest too much…
Y/N: You are cheeky for a stranger.
BB: Hey, I thought we agreed. Not strangers. Me Ben. You hairy troll.
Y/N: BLOCK.
BB: Just typing it doesn't work, you know.
Y/N: You should work at the Apple Genius Bar.
BB: Hmm, possibly. I do look good in blue. Or so I've been told.
Y/N: Always glad to provide career counselling.
BB: 🫡
4 days later.
BB: How’d your date go?
Y/N: That's odd. I don’t see a Genius Bar appt in my calendar…?
BB: iCal is a lying bastard.
BB: I also assume you now can move faster through water.
Y/N: ??
BB: Waxed smooth like a dolphin…?
Y/N: 😆
Y/N: Entirely none of your business, but yes, actually. Well mostly. I leave some. Why am I telling you this?!
Y/N: The guy was such a dud tho, I didn't get to show it off 🙁
BB: Please don't stop on my account. This is just delightful.
BB: I apologise on behalf of all men.
Y/N: For what?
BB: Having 4 sisters, I find the safest answer here is usually… everything, of course.
BB: But specifically, your rubbish date.
Y/N: Apology conditionally accepted.
Y/N: 4 sisters?!
BB: Only conditional? What do I gots to do to make it unconditional?
BB: Yeah, I know… I’ve got 3 brothers too. My parents were really into each other.
Y/N: IDK, serve a mean martini?
Y/N: Understatement.
BB: That could be arranged. I took an online mixology course during lockdown.
BB: My sister El declared I'm better than Stanley Tucci. Admittedly, that was after 4 espresso martinis… but I'm taking it. She's opinionated but the best one. They are a weird bunch tho 🤔
Y/N: WOAH WOAH WOAH. That's a bold claim.
BB: Well, there’s only one way to dispute it: try one for yourself…
Y/N: Smooth, Genius Bar, smooth.
BB: I do my best 🤷
1 day later.
Y/N: I can't get my AirPods to work.
BB: You do realise I didn’t actually follow your career advice?
Y/N: Urgh. Inconvenient. What use are you then?
BB: As I said. Cocktails. I’ll try my hand at waxing if you want.
Y/N: Best stick to the day job. Which is…?
BB: Graphic design.
Y/N: Oh, that’s quite cool.
BB: It pays the bills. You?
Y/N: MI-5
BB: Wow, you're a shit spy.
Y/N: It could be an excellent double bluff…
BB:
Y/N: Oh, we’ve graduated to memes now, have we, Genius Bar?
BB: It was called for.
Y/N: I’ll take it. Purely cos it's a Hemsworth.
BB: I would too, tbh.
Y/N: Bi?
BB: For a Hemsworth? Always.
Y/N: Anyone else?
BB: I’ll keep you posted.
Y/N: I'm on the edge of my seat.
3 days later.
BB: Oscar Issac.
Y/N: Good non sequitur evening to you, too, Genius Bar Ben.
BB: For the bi thing.
Y/N: Ahh. Got it. I can respect that.
BB: This is me, btw: www.instagram.com/benbridgerdesign.
BB: Figured you can decide for yourself if I'm a creeper.
Y/N: Appreciated.
3 minutes later.
Y/N: You paint?
BB: I dabble
Y/N: Modesty will only make me like you more.
BB: You like me?! 🥹
Y/N: You didn't mention you were handsome.
BB: There is no way to respond to that without me sounding like a twat.
BB: But thank you 😊
Y/N: This is me: www.instagram.com/ynhandle
7 minutes later.
BB: Oh, Amalfi is so beautiful, isn't it?
Y/N: Wow. That's a deep cut. How far did you scroll back??
BB: 👀
Y/N: Yeah, it's beautiful. Shame it's tainted for me now. Was there with an ex.
BB: I saw. Very handsome.
Y/N: Are you sure you're not just into men full-stop?
BB: 🤷
BB: You’re very pretty, too.
Y/N: I’d believe it if you didn't mention my “very handsome” ex first…
BB: I call it like I see it.
BB: I have had 4 whiskeys, tho, so make of that what you will.
Y/N: On a school night?!
BB: It’s my brother Ant's birthday. This is like non-optional drunk, I’ll have you know.
Y/N: Happy birthday to him.
BB: He says thanks. He’s also told me to get off my fucking phone. Which is rich. He is texting his wife nonstop.
Y/N: Hah! Safe travels through Whiskeytown, BenBridger 🫡
BB: I kinda miss Genius Bar…. 😞
Y/N: I can't win…
2 days later.
BB: Settle an argument for me.
Y/N: 🍿
BB: Col, younger brother, never stops eating... He claims Katz Deli is overrated. I argue it's touristy but still good. You’ve been. Where do you sit on this matter?
Y/N: You really did go thru my Insta, didn't you??
Y/N: Thanks for the follow, BTW.
BB: It's a compliment, I assure you.
BB: Welcome. And same.
Y/N: Not complaining. And yeah, I agree with you, actually.
BB: Hah! Excellent!!
Y/N: Wait… your older brother is Ant, and your younger brother is Col? You’re Ben. So, like ABC?
BB: … I already warned you my family was weird.
Y/N: You did. You did.
BB: Now, please excuse me while I go gloat.
Y/N: 👍
5 mins later.
BB: Hi. This is Col. You must be the famous y/n. Ben’s in the bogs, and the mug left his phone on the table unlocked, so this is on him.
BB: He like really likes you. Like a lot. Will you go on a date with him pls?
Y/N: Err, ok, hi Col.
Y/N: Umm, I think Ben should be the one to ask me that. Don’t you?
BB: He’s too scared you’ll say no.
Y/N: I won't…
BB: EXCELLENT.
2 minutes later.
BB: I am so SO sorry about that 😬 He’s such a shit.
BB: But… do you mean it?
Y/N: Ask me properly…
BB: Would you, y/n, like to go on a date with me? Please?
Y/N: I would be delighted to Ben. 😀
BB: 🙏
BB: Are you free on Thursday? Could I take you to dinner?
Y/N: Sounds wonderful.
BB: 7pm? Meet at Picadilly Circus? By Brasserie Zedel?
Y/N: I’ll be there 😀
BB: 😀
10 days later.
BB: I think you should know… Liz is an artiste 😮💨
Y/N: Stop texting me from my bed, you dork. 😘
Y/N: How do you take your coffee?
BB: I'm like 10 meters away. Why not just ask me?
Y/N: You started this, Genius Bar…
BB: Come back to bed, Mostly Hairless Troll.
Y/N: I asked for that, didn't I? 🤦
Benedict taglist, pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies
#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton fluff#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton#bridgerton fluff#bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x female reader#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton x y/n#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x y/n
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Seeing Dazai without bandages is like winning the lottery, getting struck by lightning, seeing a blue moon, or managing to buy the first three volumes of your favourite manga from the bookstore.
It's a chance close to zero.
Well, none of those things have happened to you yet, including seeing Dazai without bandages. Though, you believe this was even rarer than all those other things listed above because every time you spotted him unwrapping them in the bathroom, he softly shooed you out, or closed the door. You never got an explanation for why, but you had a solid idea of what it might have been.
You weren’t a stranger to Osamu’s past. You knew of all the things he did and who he was, but he was given a second chance, so naturally you put that all behind you and never asked any questions. And of course, most of the things you’ve heard weren’t actually from him. He’s never gone into depth about what used to happen in the Port Mafia. Nor has he ever mentioned any battles, or any struggles he might have faced. However, you were sure that there were some stories to tell under those bandages.
You were also sure that those ‘stories’ might not be as pleasing to hear or to tell, so you never pressured him to talk.
Although, sometimes you just wished he confided in you, because you were together, after all. He knew many secrets of yours, pleasant and unpleasant, and you knew that none of those secrets were even comparable to what he must have gone through.
You just wanted him to tell you, to show you, even if it was a little so that you could lift that guilt off his caring heart to make him feel better.
You and Osamu came home from work a couple of hours ago, when the sun was already set, stars twinkling above. It was dark inside your shared home, the only light source being the bright, white lights around the rectangular-shaped mirror, as you sat on the counter, already showered and face taken care of.
You were watching Dazai apply some moisturizer to his face. His long coat was gone, along with all his other clothes that hid his top half. The only thing stopping you from seeing his skin were the bandages.
“You like to stare, don’t you?” He asked in his usual, playful tone, pausing to take a glance at you before resuming his skincare. “I mean, I don’t blame you. I’m breathtaking.”
Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’, to which he started tickling you, your laughter echoing throughout the house.
“It’s getting late. You should go to bed, I’ll join you in a few minutes.” Osamu said, kissing the tip of your nose.
You frowned. “I don’t feel tired at all,” you started, smiling, hoping he’d agree for the first time, “I’ll wait for you, I mean, how long can it take?”
He sighed, though it wasn’t an annoyed sigh. He helped you get off the counter, gently grabbing your arms, before walking you out. You stopped in your tracks, earning a confused expression from him.
“Osamu… why do you never let me stay? Every night, you push me out without giving me an explanation.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” He put a hand softly atop your head. “You know I don’t want you to see what’s under these bandages…I don’t want to scare you.”
“You’ll never scare me, no matter what I’ll see. I thought you knew that.” You replied, not breaking eye contact. You could start seeing the unease in his eyes as he averted his gaze.
“It’s not that.” He whispered, “You haven’t seen me in the Port Mafia. You didn’t know the Port Mafia executive, Dazai Osamu, because you only know the new Dazai Osamu. And even though I am him, my body still represents the Port Mafia executive, and it always will. I want you to know what I am now, not what I was back then.”
There was a lengthy silence as he removed his hand from your head.
“‘samu,” Instantly, you cup his cheeks, bringing his head down a little so that you could stare into his eyes intensely. Dazai’s eyes flashed with uncertainty and slight shame, something you’d never seen him feel before.
“You’re right. I didn’t know Dazai Osamu from the Port Mafia, but I’ve heard of him. You’re the man I love, ‘samu, nothing could make me fear you, or walk away from you. You were given a second chance and second chances aren’t common in life. Even if your body carries horrible memories, it doesn’t mean that that’s the person you are. The man I love is caring, loving, protective, charming, amazing… and all the other positive words I could use forever.
So please, let me care for you.”
His hands were holding your wrists as you never let go of his face. Tears were bubbling up in your eyes, heart racing from all the emotions. His bottom lip was slightly trembling as he looked at the floor, before letting go of your wrists and turning around, walking back into the bathroom. He didn’t ask you to leave.
And this time, it was you who was unbandaging him as he sat patiently, though averting his gaze for most of the time. It would take time to get him to be comfortable, but you were more than happy to go slow if it meant that he wouldn’t feel as much guilt as before.
So no, you didn’t win the lottery, get struck by lightning, see a blue moon, or manage to buy the first three volumes of your favourite manga at the bookstore, but you did get to see Dazai without bandages. All those things couldn’t even compare to that.
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A:N - I’m back after a looooong writing break… just a lil thingy to warm myself up before writing anything longer
#bungou stray dogs#bsd dazai#bsd x reader#bsd x you#dazai osamu#osamu dazai#dazai x reader#dazai x you
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Guilty as Sin?
PAIRING: Lando Norris x reader
WARNINGS: None, quick fluff.
SUMMARY: What if you’ve written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind?
WORD COUNT: 560
You were having movie night with Lando for the evening. You had been friends since primary school and when you told him you were moving to Monaco he practically begged you to move in with him. You hadn’t agreed initially. You and Lando always had unspoken chemistry. You weren’t sure that was the best idea for a roommate.
Lando was persuasive though. He gave you a tour of his apartment over facetime, showing you a room that was already furnished in the style he knew you liked after looking at your pinterest. He showed you the beautiful view from the balcony you would have and then promised that you would never pay a dime for rent or utilities. You couldn’t say no.
Since you had moved in he had gradually gotten more and more romantic with you. It started small. He started calling you ‘baby’ and ‘love.’ He always made a point of saying good night to you when you went to bed. The first time he left for a race he left flowers for you, telling you he wanted to make sure you still thought of him. He brought fresh ones when he came home.
Movie nights had started after the second month of living with Lando after he complained that you didn’t hang out with him enough. If he was home on a Thursday, the two of you were on the couch with a movie playing and after the third movie night, Lando made sure you were cuddled together as well.
This Thursday you were watching a comedy movie Lando had picked. He had seen it before, but insisted that you had to see it. He had your legs over his lap, gently tracing his finger against your legging covered thigh. His affectionate touch distracted you from the movie and eventually you realized he was writing. And it was the same thing, over and over again. Mine.
Your cheeks burned and you grabbed his hand when you realized. He looked up at you and immediately knew you’d caught him. He blushed a bit, but smirked at you. Lando freed his hand and went back to writing on your leg, a new word this time. Yours.
“Lando…” You whispered in warning.
“What?” He protested. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it. About us.” You stared at him.
“I know we’ve both thought about it,” you told him. “But you’ve never done anything before and there has to be a reason for that.” Lando looked into your eyes and you could practically see the gears in his mind turning.
“Well, then I’ll do something,” he said. He grabbed your hips, pulling you fully onto his lap. Before you realized it his lips were on yours. He was kissing you like no one ever had before. His lips were warm and soft and his goatee tickled you as he tilted your head back in his hand, giving himself better access to you. When he pulled away you kept your eyes closed for a moment and when you opened them Lando was grinning at you. You smiled back at him.
“You’re sure about this?” You asked. Lando’s hand moved to your thigh. He began tracing something new on your leg.
“I’m sure,” he answered. It took you a minute but you realized what he was writing on your leg. I love you.
#lando norris x reader fluff#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris x gn!reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris fluff#lando norris x gn! reader
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