#me trying and failing to be nonchalant | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

morganalatina21 · 3 months ago

Text

Too Sweet - OP81

When Lando tries to play matchmaker with his two friends, the negative response comes from someone he did not imagine

When Oscar wants to prove you wrong

warnings: English isn't my first language, not proofread, mentions of alcohol and weed, smut, unprotected sex, car sex. Smut have warning before it starts and after it ends! - MDNI!!!!

word count: around 2k

"What do you mean 'no'?" Lando looked at you as if you grown a second head. "Don't play nonchalant about this, that's his thing. I've heard you ramble about him before."

"Yep." You agreed, sipping your drink.

"So why the fuck not?" He crossed his arms. "You'd be bloody great together."

"Do you really think that, muppet?" You bit back, eyes still lifeless staring back at him. Lando nodded. "You don't understand man. I like him? Yes. Very much. So much is inebriating." You confessed, looking almost... tired?

"But I've come to the terms that we would never work." Your shoulders moved up and down. "We are so fucking different Lan, and you know that. He's like, kind and a ray of sunshine. I'm a mess, you should know this, I'm friends with you, that's telling."

"I'm gonna ignore this outrage statement because I'm on a bigger mission here." He continued, knowing you were deviating the conversation. "The fuck is that coming from?"

"When you like someone that much, you star to try and match your stuff with them." You shrugged, adjusting your hair on the mirror. "And as much as I want to, we just- don't. That's like you said, he is nonchalant, I'm way too chalant. He is so sweet, Im bitter. He is all composed and... I dunno... Like those fitness influencers who have insane wellness routines? You know. And I'm the entire opposite. He's sweet as a grape."

"Are you quoting Hozier's Too Sweet at me right now?" His green eyes looked at you in disbelief. "Are you for real?"

"Kinda."

"Okay I know you may be having doubts, but why not try? It's better than not try, right?"

"Okay now you're just quoting The Good Place at me." You mocked, hearing people bang on the door to the bathroom. "But you know that I'm way too down bad for him to just try and go along with it. I'm usually cool with this kinds of stuff, but... I know I'll just be delusional and want more with him."

"So make us both a favor and drop it, because I don't wanna have my heart broken, and you don't wanna hear me whining about it, sir Norris."

Oscar's eyes were trained on you the moment you left the bathroom with Lando at his house party. You and Lando knew each other since kids, and it was very obvious to everyone in that house, including him, that nothing would ever happen between the two of you.

You noticed his glance and just offered him a small smile before turning and starting a conversation with Max Fewtrell, yours and Lando's best friend.

"Thought you said that'd work." He commented when Lando came up to him. "I really shouldn't trust your matchmaking skills, remember the redhead you tried to hook me up with in Vegas?"

"Hey, she was hot! And liked koalas."

"She liked spiders."

"You grew up with both, mate, whatever." Oscar shooked his head with a smile on his face. "And she wants you, she's just worried you might not want her."

"What?"

"She didn't believe when I said you were down to meet her. She thinks I'm setting her up with someone who does not want her."

"Why would she think that? You did that before?"

"Not the case right now. She thinks that because she basically doesn't think she's good enough for you."

The softest "what" came out of Piastri's lips.

"Yeah, she even quoted Hozier at me."

"I... don't know what that means."

Later that day, when he was in bed, smeling a bit like alcohol and feeling his body light from the drinking, Lando's words came back to him. He was waiting to sober up more, although he was probably the most sober out of everyone in that party, including you, who at some point started trying to teach Pietra how to creepwalk, to which, you failed.

He kept watching you that night, from some distance, of course, to try and understand what you meant to Lando when you said "too different".

And to be honest, he kinda got that.

You weren't necessarily and extrovert, at least with those you didn't know, but with your friends, wow were you outgoing.

You and Max were doing shots at random moments of the night, a bet to see who would fall first. You'd drink whataver he drank, and he'd drink whatever you drank.

He smoked some weed, so you did too.

You took jello shots made purely out of the cheapest vodka you could find, so he did too.

Lando and Pietra were trying to keep up with the two of you, but it was in vain. You two were on fire.

And to be honest, Oscar liked that.

You probably didn't see it, but you were both bold, only on different aspects of life.

And he wanted to show you that.

So, phone in hand, he texted Lando, who was already on his own room, probably with some fling of his. The party had died down and only a few people were left, including you, who were downstairs probably playing truth or dare or never have I ever with the other survivors of the night, and him, who was in a guest room.

[What did u meant when you mentioned Hozier earlier?] seen 2:38a.m.

[she quoted his song to me]

[too sweet, look it up im busy] seen 2:40a.m.

[At least tell me the name of the song so i can search it, man] 2:40a.m.

[are youo actually stupid? the name of the song is TOO SWEET, im not compliemnting you mate.] seen 2:40a.m.

[i knew that] seen 2:41a.m.

[sure you did] seen 2:41 a.m.

Spotify open. He typed down those two words and sure enough, a song by an Irish man popped up. The beat was kinda animated, and he didn't though to bother searching up the internet to see what other thought of that song.

He took his own conclusion.

"If you can sit in a barrell, maybe I'll wait". In his slightly disturbed mind, that meant he still had a shot. He just needed to prove you two weren't so different.

And while drunk, he took an oath to do that.

For the 2024 season, Lando had hired you as his personal counselor, which was just an excuse for you to travel around the world with him.

The reason why? Oscar didn't knew, but he wasn't complaining.

That meant seeing you around the paddock a lot, even til the highest hours of the night after each race, post-debriefs and everything.

Today was one of those days.

It was after a session of FP1 and FP2 of the US Grand Prix, and the post-practice debrief had just ended, people moving around and starting to leave.

Oscar gathered his stuff and was ready to walk to his own car and leave.

That's when he spotted you.

On one of the halls from the McLaren hospitality, walking around in a jacket he did not recognize as any of the teams merch.

"Are you switching scuderias?" He asked, nodding the jacket direction, startling you.

You looked down, almost forgetting which clothes you were wearing. "Oh that's just from the next NASCAR winning team."

"You like NASCAR?"

"I was very frustrated when I realized Cars was about NASCAR and not F1, I might switch motorsports." You smiled.

"Good luck cheering for Joe Gibbs."

"Oh which one do you choose? Spire?"

"No, never. 23XI is way better."

You rolled your eyes at his statement, a small smile still on your lips, a huge one on his.

"I'll laugh to your face when Denny Hamlin ends Riley on track next cup, Piastri."

"It's on, Y/ln."

Two days later, after the Grand Prix, Oscar dropped the bomb on the interview.

"... Maybe we should just adopt NASCAR rules and end things on track." A knowing smile on his lips, looking at the camera.

He wanted you to know. He made sure of it, it wasn't just some comment, there was more.

"Mate, NASCAR rules? Are you insane?" Lando asked later, watching you perk up at that mention.

Oscar smiled and watched you, barely giving his teammate any recognition. You searched the internet, the key words you never thought would be put together: "Oscar Piastri + NASCAR".

And sure enough, there it was, the interview.

You looked up at him, slightly flabbergasted and changed your expression to a smile.

And God, did he love that smile.

"Disrespectfully, Fuck Papaya Rules."

Oscar phisically perked up when he heard that. He was strolling around the paddock and caught you talking with reserve McLaren driver, Pato O'Ward.

"Not only that's dumb, but honestly, fuck-ass name for a strategy."

He chuckled at that, hearing you from around the corner.

"Honestly I don't know if I'd follow that if I ever fill in for any of them." Pato admitted, shrugging. "I understand when it's for the Constructors Championship but Drivers? Fuck that."

"My favorite moment so far is when Oscar cut him right on the beginning, it was kind of a 'fuck your championship' moment, I live for that."

"Lando's gonna fire you if he hears you say that." Pato laughed. "Remember when you hit him because he didn't spray Oscar on the Hungary podium?"

"And I'd do it again."

"You hit Lando to defend me?" Oscar asked later that day, on the parking lot, as you were waiting for your friend.

You looked up at him and his smug smile.

That actually caught you unexpected. Oscar was coy, you knew that, but he was getting progressively bolder and more challenging.

It messed with your brain.

"You eavesdropping?"

"I just like to hear when people talk about me." He admitted. "Don't you?"

"No. I hate knowing what people think of me."

Oscar chuckled. That was kind of perfect, because he wasn't good with words.

"I promise I won't tell you what I think of you if I can give you a ride back to the hotel."

That was the main difference between you and Oscar: you were provocative, alluring, liked to get under people's skin, while he was straightforward, deadpan and liked to see people's reaction to brutal honesty.

"Sure."

It was the last race of a triple header, Brasil.

Five DNFs, the race and the quali delayed so many times, it was exhausting. Oscar finished P8, which, yes, was a bad position, but he was glad he at least finished the race, unlike five other drivers.

He was so tired, and it showed on his face.

No one even dared ask him or Lando how they were feeling because it was obvious, so he pratically slipped away from the mechanics and engineers.

And he found you. Sitting on the floor, back to the wall that separated his and Lando's driver room, texting rapidly.

He wanted so bad to have you to him, to talk to you before media duties, to have you on his driver room alone. But he and Lando weren't exactly on the best terms, so he couldn't just snatch away his friend.

Or couldn't he?

"Lando's gonna be late." He said, snatching your attention immediately. "If you want to come in."

"Yeah, in a sec." You went back to typing right away.

"You texting someone?" You nodded but answered back:

"Since when do you care?"

"I don't know, I just want your attention." There it was again, the honesty. "I mean, the person you might be texting can be cool and all but, do they drive at 300km/h for McLaren?"

You stopped, looking up at him, almost not believing those words actually came out of his mouth.

"He doesn't..." He smiled. "He actually drives for Mercedes and is a 7 time world champion."

"You're texting Lewis?" Oscar asked softly, smile vanishing. "Isn't he too old for you?"

"First of all, Lewis Hamilton could never be 'too old'. And second, It's not like you're thinking." You pushed yourself up, entering his room. "I'm just congratulating him on the Senna homage and asking what he wants to get me tickets for the next Kendrick Lamar concert."

"I don't know how many times I can offer to babysit Roscoe."

Oscar closed the door behind him, a sigh of relief leaving his lips.

He launched himself on the nearest armchair he could find and groaned, feeling his body ache, trying to stop the shakes on his body from being wet with the cold wind.

"Are you okay?" Y/n asked, voice dripping with concern.

"Yeah. My back's killing me, and I think I'm going to have a cold."

"Take a hot shower, I'll grab you some medicine." She instantly put the phone down, marching towards the door, but was interrupted when Oscar held her wrist.

"Stay." The word came out murmured, a gentle plea, his eyes closed. "Please."

It was weird seeing him like that, so vulnerable, so desirous, it made your heart fumble when he opened those soft brown eyes. So you nodded.

"But you're gonna lie down and get warm. I don't want you sick."

He obliged, draggin himself -and you on the processes, because he couldn't let go of you- towards the improvised bed he had on his driver room.

"But what if-" Oscar began, starting to lie down. "I get sick so I can escape from the media duties?"

"Can you do that?"

"It's worth a shot."

You smiled, pulling a chair to be close to him still, to which he thanked with a smile.

Surely after, Oscar fell asleep. You know it wasn't ideal, but you stood by and watched him peacfully sleeping. He was so soft, so cat-like, so pretty.

Your heart ached with how much you liked him.

And maybe, even though he didn't knew, he was showing you how you two could be a match.

When he woke up, half an hour later, you weren't there already, but he found the medicine you said he needed with a small note that said "You snore like a cat purrs (take care), Y/n."

He smiled ear to ear, almost all of the fatigue gone. He folded the note and tucked it in one of the pockets of his bag, leaving to the unfortunate meeting with the media.

Later that day, as Y/n was getting to her hotel room when she noticed something hanging from the doorknob.

It was a keychain in the shape of a cat, with a small note that read "To remember me".

Y/n rolled her eyes, but with a small smile on her face, that turned into a shock expression the moment she saw the things attached to it: two tickets for the Kendrick Lamar concert.

"Oscar Jack Piastri, you little devil."

"How was the concert?" Oscar asked, a knowing smile on his lips.

Y/n smiled widely. It has been a couple of months since Oscar Piastri started pursuing you; you ended up knowing what he was up to when Lando commented that he was determined.

And dear God, he was.

And it moved you.

You don't remember ever someone putting this much effort for you. That alone, warranted some points on his advantage.

"It was good, I actually ended up meeting Snoop Dogg also and we talked a lot about West Side." You rambled, watching his eyes get lost, trying to search his brain for any information about any of the words you just said. "I'm just messing with you. It really meant a lot to me so, thank you."

"Anytime."

"You need a ride to the hotel?" He offered. "Think Lando's not going back any time soon."

You looked back to the door for the party, the music still so loud, lights flashing in different colors and you could almos feel the smell of alcohol even from this distance.

Usually, you'd be inside going crazy too, celebrating that the team you work for had finally won the Constructor's Championship after so many years not knowing what that feels like.

But you were tired. So you took Oscar's offer.

His car smelt new, even though he had this car for quite some time now, his cologne, a strong woody scent mixed with the fresh odor of the seats.

"So, how does it feel, huh?" You asked right after he started driving. "Constructor's champions."

"It's amazing." He answered, and you could feel the tiredness and happiness from his tone. "It's exactly that, a reward for all the hard work."

"Driver's championship next?"

"For me I hope so."

"Next season's gonna be amazing." You smiled, hiding the sadness. "I mean, five rookies on the grid, Hamilton at Ferrari, hopefully Max's downfall?"

"May God hear you, Y/n."

"This sport was missing some emotion." Oscar stared at you from the side of his eyes as you entered the highway, which was completely desert due to high hours of the night. "I mean, to you guys there's always emotion but that's because you're driving, to us just watching cars go around and no overtakes, no fun business is kinda boring."

A mischiveous glint shone on Oscar's eyes as he pushed the throttle pedal further and further with each word you said.

"Osc, what are you doing?"

"Just thought you'd like a piece of the emotion like we have." He opened the windows, a huge smile on.

The adrenaline rushed through your muscles, eyes blown wide as the velocity increased, starting to grip the seat as you laughed. Oscar was so normal about it he was even driving with only one hand on the wheel.

"Fuck it, Imma act like a dog."

Oscar laughed genuinely as you loosened the seatbelt and propped your head out of the window, the wind forcing your skin and giving you goosebumps.

You could barely breathe but that was a whole part of the fun.

"Oh my God this is amazing!"

"Emotion enough for you?"

"God, how are you guys so normal after every race?" You asked, sitting back down, heart beating so fast inside your chest. "I'd feel like I'm on the top of the world, honestly."

The song on the radio pushed your pulse to quicken even more. You opted for keeping your head inside to talk to Oscar, but one hand was out, dancing with the wind.

"God, I'm gonna miss this."

"What?!"

Shit.

He wasn't supposed to hear that, not yet.

You sighed, putting a hand on high thigh, feeling him tense up. "You can slow down now." He did, eyes constantly darting back to your hand, touching him. "The reason I was flying around with Lando and the team was because he wanted to give me new opportunities. And I got one in Italy, as a fashion designer. This is my last night working for McLaren."

Oscar couldn't believe what he was hearing, all his effort, all that he was dreaming for, to have you by his side every race just like this season but this time, as his partner.

He kind of thanked you for telling him to slow down, because his head was spinning.

"Italy is close to Monaco, no?"

"It's in Milan, a three hour drive." You answered, lightly caressing his thigh. "Lando already knew of that possibility, no one was supposed to get attached to me. I'm sorry, Osc."

He parked the car in front of the hotel, both hands now on the wheel as he was trying to calm down and grasp the reality of everything going on.

You were leaving.

He felt your hand lifting up from his pants and immediately grabbed it.

"I'm not giving you up."

"Osc-" "No."

"I didn't come this far just to lose you, not now."

"You're not losing me." He looked at you. "I'll just- I'll be in the country next door." You smiled tightly. "But it's okay if you don't want someone who can't accompany you, I get it."

"You'd wait for me?"

"What?"

Oscar blinked, his grip on your hand tightening, eyes intense as if he was begging.

"Wait for me, to be back from the races, wait for the breaks?"

"Osc that's thing long relationships go through, we don't know if it'd work and-"

He held your face. Gently, sweet, almost too sweet.

"We have until March. I want to try. I could never ask you to give up on something you want so bad, so that's why I'm asking you to not give up on us."

Us. That knocked all the air from your lungs.

"I can see it in your face. You want this just as badly as I do." Oscar's voice was low, sending shivers down your spine with the way he talked. "I already showed you how much of a match we can be, let me show you we can make this work."

You shouldn't, you really really shouldn't. If it all went south you didn't know if you could recover from him.

But it was hard to think when he was this close.

So you made a decision.

Even if it slipped away, it'd have claw marks from you. You were ready to try and keep him in your life with all your strength.

So you launched yourself forward, capturing his lips.

SMUT AHEAD - YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

His kiss was desperate, hands full on launching themselves at your body and holding you tight, as if you'd start to slip away right this moment.

"Osc! On the car?" You laughed, breaking the kiss, to which he immediately bent his head down to kiss your neck.

"Just this once." He was almost begging, trying to get you free from the seatbelt and into his lap. "I've wanted you for so long, love, please."

Too sweet? No, just the right amount.

You clicked your seatbelt and pushed it away, hopping onto his seat, back meeting the steering wheel, chest to chest, knees barely on the seat from how big his legs were.

The impression was that Oscar was ravenous, like a hungry man, devouring every inch of your skin he could, levaing behind a trace of his saliva and maybe some hickies, but neither of you cared.

His breathing was uneven, hands roaming your body like it was the curves of a circuit he needed to remember and dominate.

"Osc-" You hummed, feeling his hard-on pressing against you, dry humping it, pulling moans from both of you. "Fuck!"

"Didn't peg you as a tits guy." You laughed upon noticing both his hands lodged around your boobs, guiding you through them to ride his erection.

"I'm a Y/n guy, everything about you drives me insane." He confessed, moving his right hand to your ass, moving your body around his lap, feeling your thighs shake against his hips. "Love, please."

Your hands traveled down his chest, nails grazing his skin on top of the formal suit he had on. He looked like a prince, even though he was ready to fuck you like a soldier. Finally, your hands worked fast to take his belt off and open his pants.

His cock, finally freed from his underwear, was so hard already and leaking with pre-cum. You smeared it around as started playing with his tip, feeling his hips buck upwards.

You were looking at his face atently, seeing his expressions falter at your touch.

Oscar's eyes found your and they were dark like never before.

"You're such a fucking tease." He complained, stirring around, trying to feel more of your touch.

"Someone has to take the lead, huh?"

A spark flew past his eyes, hand moving up and grabbing a fistful of your hair, yanking it harshly.

"Osc!" You whined, head thrown back as his grip didn't loosen even slightly, sending a heat wave down your body, allodging itself in your pulsating core.

"Someone has to take the lead, right love?" He snapped back, a huge smile on his face as he watched you shake. "Enough with the teasing, pull your panties to the side and sink on my dick."

Fumbling with your hands, you found the slit of your dress and tucked your hand inside, founding the laced fabric that was already drenched, pulling it to the side.

Oscar helped you lodge on top of him, lining up your entrance and his lenght, one hand still holding you tightly by the hair and the other moving your ass around.

"Fuck, love!" He moaned as you started sitting on him, caressing your head, making you shiver and tighten even more. "When you feel it all inside you, you can take the lead back, m'kay?"

Your lips met each other's, drinking the moans away.

The further you sank on him, the more he sank on the driver's seat, feeling all the tension leave his body, finally feeling your insides.

Fully inside, he let go of your hair as he promised and allodged both hands on your hips, gripping you bot not forcing you to move.

"Think you're gonna last?" You asked, opening the buttons to his shirt, positioning both hans on each side of his chest.

He opened his eyes, the dark hungry was still there, much softer now, he looked drunk and so languidly happy. "We can leave the torture for the next times, can't we love?"

You wanted to tease him, and say maybe, that now the lead was back to your hands, you were going to make him last painfully, but you felt the tight knot on your low womb, and knew even you weren't going to last.

"Okay, Osc."

And you started to ride him, watching him give in and just become a moaning mess, still holding tight to your waist but completely gone.

"Fuck, love, you're- you're too good!"

You also didn't thought Oscar was going to be so talkative during sex, given his nonchalant ways, but when given pleasure he turned into a bubbling mess, talking nonsense.

"So good, so worth the wait." He mumbled, pulling you closer and moaning in your lips as you two kissed again. "You ride me so well." He kept going, as you started kissing his neck, wanting to hear more. "Don't stop, please don't stop, love."

His hands restored to gripping your waist and travelling up sometimes to carress your tits on top of your dress.

"You should be wearing less clothes, love, you're so pretty." He complained. "Are you close?"

"Mhmm."

"So am I. Cum with me, love." He groaned, voice too raw for his own good, messing around with your head. "Come on, baby." His hips started snapping up, meeting you halfway your ride.

A strained whine left your lips, hugging his shoulders and propping your head on your arms, launching your moans directly into his ear, pushing him further down his high.

"I'm- I'm gonna-"

Both your bodies started to shake and his big arms hugged you, pulling you closer, locking you in him as his cum spurted inside you, your knot finally snapping.

"You okay?" He asked a few moments later, feeling you go limp on top of him. "Still with me?"

"Shut it, Osc."

"Yeah, you're back."

You laughed, hugging him one last time before pulling up from him, immediately putting your panties back in place and returning to the passanger's seat as he zipped his pants back on.

He turned on the AC to clear the windows that became foggy from the heat irradiating from both of you.

You fixed your hair as much as you could, knowing it'd probably be ruined again when you went up to his hotel room. He offered you his blazer, to which you happily took and let it engulf you, hiding the hickied left on your neck.

He went around the car to open your door for you, helping you on your feet as he noticed your legs still shaking. He had that smug smile you got used to on the beggining of your flirting and it made you want to kiss him stupid.

"You think your plan of convincing me we're a match was 100% successfull?" You asked, crossing the hotel lobby still holding his arm, heading toward the elevator.

He leaned into you, voice just above a whisper, only for you to hear. "My cum is leaking out your pussy, you tell me."

You suffocated a smile, desperately pressing the button for the elevator.

SMUT ENDS HERE- WELCOME BACK!

"Okay so, I need to know." Lando asked, it was the day after the celebration, you were sharing a breakfast on the McLaren private jet with the rest of the crew.

You were sitting beside Oscar, Lando in front of you two, a little hungover but still curious.

"We're not telling you anything."

"You owe me this, I had to sit through one hour meeting with the pr team about not fucking in cars in the parking lot."

You choked a laugh, tecnically your contract with Lando was over, and you weren't a part of the McLaren anymore, so you got to sleep while Oscar and Lando had to be awake for a very stern lecture.

"Honestly, if you keep doing shit like this I'm gonna make you two pay for my therapy."

"Bill me, mate." Oscar snapped back, a huge smile on his face as he took one sip of a milk glass.

"Fuck you!" Lando answered immediately, shock written all over his face. "Honestly, I should've never put you two together."

"You didn't do shit." You retorted, throwing Lando even further down the insane hill.

He started to ramble about how he was the first matchmaker, how he handled you two talking about each other to him and it almost drove him insane, while you and Oscar just smiled.

You layed your head on Oscar's shoulder, sighing.

He was sweet, but never too sweet for you.

You breathed in his scent, a sharp woody masculine perfume that mixed perfectly with your sweet one. Exactly how you two were supposed to be, boldness in sweetness and sweetness in boldness, completing each other.

And whatever was going to happen to the both of you, you'd fight it, like he fought for you.

april 6th, 2025

Reblogs and feedback are appreciated! ♡

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff #formula one #f1 fic #fanfic rec #f1 smut #f1 story #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #f1 imagine #oscar piastri smut

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sunaily · 29 days ago

Text

Doing the “don’t smile and I’ll give you head” trend on haikyuu men 😼

This is for you queen / king 👉🏼 @kurroomii sorry it took so long, I just finished my finals

WARNING! Suggestive and Sexual content! all are adults in this (and you guys are married or in a relationship) and mention of dead ancestors/relatives and pets (?)

Immediately locks in once he receives the note. stone-faced, don’t even try to make him smile you will not win over his dead body! he took it so seriously you were concerned.

(pretend this is you giving him the note) 💁🏻‍♀️📝

“ what’s this hun?” *slowly reads the note* “🗿”

“if you don’t smile, I’ll give you head 😘 “

“🗿”

“okay babe you win, you can stop now…”

“🗿”

“babe?”

“🗿”

“babe I swear you will be getting that head you can smile now…”

“🗿”

“……..”

-Mattsukawa, Osamu, SUNA (even if he smiles he will still be getting that head), KUROO (he gets down, he don’t play!) IWAIZUMI, Hoshiumi, Daichi, Kai

This man can’t keep a straight face on to save a life BUT he is determined to get that gawk gawk 3000 from you 😼 so what does he do? he starts thinking about his pet that passed away years ago when he was 5 and his great great grandfather that died 3 months before he was born…

“y’know, I had a pet goldfish named Goldie the goldfish back then, he died when I was 5….I miss him very much”

“a-are you seriously thinking about your dead goldfish from 20 years ago just so you can get head? 😟 ” (pretend yall are 25)

“and my great great grandfather passed away 3 months before I was born 😢 …”

“ baby why are you acting head deprived??? I give you head everynight!”

“😮‍💨 I miss them so much!”

“you cannot be serious right now…”

- BOKUTO (I was thinking of him while writing this), Hinata (I HAVE NEVER EVER SEEN THIS MAN NOT SMILE) LEV, NISHINOYA, Hirugami, Fukunaga, TENDOU, Goshiki (and if I tell u he cried then what?)

IMMEDIATELY FAILS, He was caught off guard okay?! give him a chance 😔demands another try because he wasn’t ready 🙄 (no you only get 1 try so no head for you…better luck next time!)

“ 😌oh shit- BABE I WAS NOT READY😩!”

“NOPE YOU SMILED GAME OVER! HAHAHAHAH NO HEAD FOR YOU 😛”

“No! that’s unfair give me another chanceeee 😩😥 this time I’ll be ready I swear!”

“the point of this “game” is to be caught off guard babe…just accept defeat and better luck next time 😘”

- ATSUMU (my number 1 inspiration) NISHINOYA (who wouldn’t smile at the thought of your wife giving you head?) Tanaka, OIKAWA (he can never win in this house) HOSHIUMI, SUGAWARA, Yamamoto, futakuchi, TERUSHIMA.

Smiled at first but once he received the note best believe he turned that smile upside down (no like seriously he went from this 🙂 to this ☹️!)

“baby you can’t smile”

“do I look like i’m smiling? ☹️”

“BABY YOU LITERALLY SMILED”

“NO I DIDN’T! I ONLY SMILED BECAUSE I SAW YOU! I stopped smiling after I read the note okay?!!! ☹️☹️☹️”

“yknow what fine….”

“does this mean I can get the sloppy toppy now? ☹️”

“……”

- AKAASHI (idc what yall say my man is silly okay?! he is not a nonchalant baddie 😩) YAMAGUCHI, Asahi, Semi, Ennoshita, Hanamaki, MATSUKAWA, ARAN

Wins the trend effortlessly, my stone-faced expressionless baddies with only 1 permanent facial expression…😐 he is so used to your shenanigans at this point. He is confused but he still wants to make you happy….after all, you are his other half

“ ‘Do not smile if you want me to give you the 3 s tonight 🤭’ my love what is this??? what does 3 s stands for??”

“slurp, suck and swallow 😝”

“………I do not know what to do with you sometimes….”

- Ushijimao, Tsukishima, Kenma, SHIRABU (idk if Kita should be added but for the sake of favoritism and free will I will add him) Kita, AONE, Kageyama, Kunimi, SAKUSA

Ps Ik some of these are not accurate please forgive me lol

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er1nne · 7 months ago

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fix this

⸝⸝⸝ ⑅ —໒ྀི ִֶָ rafe’s impulsive actions and failed attempt to fix things with a ignite a heated argument, leaving you feeling unseen and misunderstood.

word count 1.7k

warnings : yelling & arguments so angst but ends on a good note / fluff

AN: the problem is left ambiguous & left to the imagination so you can make up the problem, you guys loved the last one lol :) i have plenty more in the vault so let me know if y'all want them. enjoy!

(please do not copy or plagiarize, this is my original work subject to copyright)

Rafe knows he’s in deep shit. He can tell he’s in deep shit. And he barely knows how he got here...nope he totally know how he got here.

The weight of it presses on his chest like a cinder block, a suffocating reminder of the mess he’s made. It’s the first thing he feels when he hears your footsteps stomping up the stairs on to the porch. The tightness in his stomach churns, and his hands instinctively find the edge of the counter, gripping it hard enough that his knuckles pale.

He rubs his hand over his jaw, rough and restless, staring at the front door like it might swallow him whole. It doesn’t. The door swings open, and there you are—eyes already blazing with fury, every bit of it directed at him.

You slam the door behind you with a force that makes him flinch. The sharp crack of wood echoes in the silence before you speak.

“I can’t believe you, Rafe!” you snap, your voice trembling, sharp enough to cut. “Do you ever think? Like, at all?”

The way you look at him—like he’s the worst kind of idiot—makes him stiffen, though he leans back against the counter, trying to feign some level of calm. It doesn’t work. He hates that look, not just from you but from anybody.

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” he says, shrugging in what he hopes comes off as nonchalant. But his voice falters just slightly, betraying him. He knows it’s the wrong thing to say, even as the words leave his mouth. Way to put a foot in your mouth.

“Oh, my God.” You throw your hands up, your movements jerky, overwhelmed. “You didn’t think it was that big of a deal? Of course, you didn’t. You never think!”

The accusation hangs heavy in the air, sharp and piercing. He runs a hand through his hair, yanking at the strands in frustration. There you go again. Can't you tell he's sorry. Why'd you have to go there of all places. Why’d you have to say it like that? “Alright, just—calm down for a second,” he says, his tone already edging into defensive territory. “You’re making it sound worse than it is.”

“Calm down?” you repeat, and there’s a bitter edge to your voice that makes his stomach twist. “You think I’m overreacting?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he fires back, the words snapping out of him before he can stop them. His shoulders are tense, his movements jerky as he gestures vaguely between the two of you. “I’m saying I didn’t mean for it to be—whatever this is.”

You scoff, shaking your head as if the audacity of his explanation is too much to comprehend. “Unbelievable. You don’t even get it, do you? You don’t care how this makes me feel. You just do whatever you want, and I’m supposed to just—deal with it?”

“That’s not fair,” he says through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching as he pushes off the counter. “I didn’t do this to hurt you.”

“But you didn’t care enough to stop and think about me, either,” you shoot back, your voice rising with each word. “Do you have any idea how that feels? To know that I don’t even cross your mind when you make these dumb, impulsive decisions?”

The words hit him hard, like a gut punch he didn’t see coming. He exhales sharply, his frustration boiling over. He paces a few steps, his hands restless, like he’s trying to find an outlet for the tension coiling in his chest.

“Look, I—I’m trying, alright?” he says, his voice rough and strained. “I know I screwed up. That’s why I got you this.”

He gestures toward the counter, where an expensive box sits, perfectly wrapped with a crisp bow. It’s something he picked up earlier, certain it would fix everything. Now, standing here under your fiery gaze, it feels like a monument to his failure.

Your eyes flick to the box, then back to him, your expression darkening. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“What?” he says, his voice rising with confusion and a touch of defensiveness. He throws his arms out, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I was trying to—”

“It’s not about the damn gift, Rafe!” you yell, your voice cracking slightly under the weight of your emotions. “This isn’t something you can fix with money. Do you think I’m that shallow? You think you can throw a couple of thousands at me and it'll make my feelings go away?”

Your breath stutters for a moment before continuing, “Do you think I’m like all the other girls you’ve bought? You can’t do that with me. You can’t just throw money at this and expect it to go away. You have to be a person—a human—with me.”

He flinches, the words cutting deeper than he cares to admit. “No, that’s not—I’m just trying to fix it, okay?” His voice rises in desperation now. “I don’t know what else you want from me!”

“I want you to feel something!” you snap, the tremor in your voice betraying the raw hurt beneath your anger. “I want you to stop throwing money at everything and actually care about how I feel. But I guess that’s asking too much.”

The accusation lands like a blow, and he’s left staring at you, at the tears brimming in your eyes. The anger drains from his face, leaving something raw and uncertain in its place.

“I do care,” he says quietly, his voice rough and uneven. “I just—I don’t know how to… do this.” His hands move in an awkward, aimless gesture, like the words he needs are somewhere just out of reach. His voice is low, almost a whisper. It’s the kind of vulnerability he doesn’t like showing—doesn’t know how to. But he can’t bring himself to look away from you as he peers at you with those icy eyes.

You scoff, shaking your head again, but you don’t storm out. He notices this, clings to it like a lifeline, grateful in a way he doesn’t know how to put into words.

“Look,” he says, stepping closer, his movements hesitant, cautious. His hands twitch at his sides like they’re drawn to you, but he doesn’t touch you—not yet. “I’m not good at this, alright? I screw up—a lot. But I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I hate seeing you like this.”

Your shoulders sag, and for a moment, you look just as tired as he feels. “Then stop making me feel like I don’t matter,” you murmur, your voice softer now, but no less weighted. “Stop acting like I’m just… an afterthought.”

“You’re not,” he says quickly, his voice firm and insistent. He steps closer, his hands finally settling on your arms. “You’re not an afterthought, okay? You’re—you’re everything to me. I just don’t know how to show it sometimes.”

For a moment, you don’t respond. You just stand there, his hands warm and solid against your arms, the tension between you palpable. Then, slowly, you look up at him.

“I just need to know you’re willing to change, I need you to try...” you say softly, your voice thick with emotion.

The room feels smaller now, the space between you charged but quieter. His hand moves, almost hesitantly, until it settles lightly on your arm. “I don’t know how to do this,” he repeats, his voice rough and uneven. “But I want to. For you.”

You search his face, your gaze lingering on his eyes like you’re trying to find something—sincerity, maybe. And when you finally nod, your body relaxing slightly in his grip, it feels like the first breath he’s taken in hours.

“You better,” you say, your voice quiet but steady now.

“I will,” he promises. Rafe’s lips twitch upward, his own smile soft and unsure. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. His arms wrap around the entirety of your body, holding you in his warm embrace like he never wants to let go. You feel his heartbeat against yours as the remenants of his anger fade away.

It’s not a perfect fix. Not even close. But as he holds you close, he feels like maybe, just maybe, he’s finally starting to understand.

divider by @crazyfrm!

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xinganhao · 5 months ago

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🫶 svt reacts to you saying 'i love you' on accident.

★ prompt: Ot13 reaction to you saying I love you for the first time (possibly kind of by accident) 🥰 c/o anon

ⓘ friends to lovers vibes, flirting, pet names. headcanons under the cut.

🫶 read more?

seungcheol tries to take it in stride. really, he does. he's convinced he can be very normal about this, even though it will probably have him preening the whole day. he's always thrived most on words of affirmation, and what's more affirming than the truth?

jeonghan's joking, of course. he knows deep down that your little slip doesn't immediately entail a relationship, but he's definitely intent on going out swinging. the light teasing is an attempt to get you to think about a time where you can freely say 'i love you' to him every day.

there's a fair amount of sincerity in joshua's reaction. his first thought is to make sure that you're okay with it, since he has some idea that you've probably tripped on the words. but give him that leeway and he'll take it in a heartbeat. you've started saying it; he'll never let you hear the end of it.

if junhui manages to feign nonchalance, it's because of his acting prowess. he's smug and giddy, though he's not about to let you know that. he's the type to pull the rug underneath you a couple of days later, right when you've probably forgotten it. "so…" he'll drawl. "how much do you love me, hm?"

to no one's surprise, soonyoung is decisively not chill about it. this is A Big Deal to him! an 'i love you'? something he's wanted to hear for ages? he needs to make sure he's not dreaming. there's the dopiest smile on his face, because you love him. it's the best thing he's heard.

wonwoo's hands are shaking. his throat is suddenly dry, and he's relatively sure his brain has short-circuited. it's— just an offhand thing. at least that's what he tries to convince himself. the reality: he's going to be replaying the words in his head for weeks on end.

it doesn't strike jihoon immediately. maybe it hits him once you're gone; maybe it occurs to him when the moment has already passed. one thing's for sure: he's not going to let it go unanswered. he's a little late, not on time, but that doesn't mean he doesn't mean it. you know that, right?

the words make something bloom and blossom in seokmin's chest. they take root like a promise, and even though he tries not to get ahead of itself, it's hard. he's so, so happy to hear it from you that he'll be walking on clouds for the days to come.

mingyu doesn't hate you. that much is certain. he just hates the power you have over him— how you can upend his entire day with a couple of choice words. he had thought he'd be stronger than this, but here he is. panicking because of 'ily'? god, he can't afford to be in shambles like this.

ever the rational type, minghao will be the type to press, "how do you love me?" he can't afford any missteps, needs to know you're on the same page. if you love him as a friend, then so be it. but if there's a prospect for anything more, even just a minute worth of it… well. he would like to know.

joking about it is a coping mechanism. that's something seungkwan subscribes to, at the very least. it gives him time to gather his wits, this whole keeping-up-a-facade thing. (ask anyone: he had been smiling a little too hard at his phone when your text came in. the eyes never lie.)

rarely is vernon thrown off his game like this. he's not supposed to be melting over a flippant 'ily', and yet here he is— trying (and failing) to be cool about your slip-up. can you blame him? he's wanted you for so long, and the words can be as good as a promise if he really wanted them to be.

you're not playing fair. chan has half a mind to make you suffer, to not give you the satisfaction of a reaction. alas, he's always had a soft spot for you. that extends to unquestioning forgiveness, and reciprocity where it matters. yes, even in accidental confessions.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

#svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt smau #seventeen smau #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #svt text imagines #seventeen text imagines #── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine #[ been a while since i did ot13 T_T sawree ]#[ the vernon peralta is a reference to my first ever smau 🤓 aha.. ]

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bbokicidal · 4 months ago

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Loser In A Hot Body | SKZ [L.F]

Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Felix, is easily one of the most gorgeous men you've ever met on Earth. Well, the most gorgeous man to a lot of the people he's met. But, he's also... just a loser.

Genre: Mostly smut Pairing: Lee Felix x Afab!Reader Warnings: Virgin!Loser!Felix, Huge power dynamic going on, grinding/humping, oral (f & m receiving), and lots of cutesy loser gamerboy Felix content.

"Just one kiss?" Your head tips carefully to the side where you sit, cheek pressing against the pink fabric of the top you wore just to get him to look at you. It clearly wasn't working, given Felix hadn't batted an eye in your direction. Though he was sort of in his element; Tekken up on his PC screen, his fingers tapping rapidly at the LED keyboard he boasted about to every single one of his friends - with customized keycaps and pretty lights usually set to blue, he was set to go.

Felix's teeth sink into his lower lip as he focuses in on the game as much as he can. Even with his headset on, he has one of the muffs tugged over behind his ear instead so he could listen in case you called for him from elsewhere or maybe he got a phone call. He was a gamer but he was still considerate. "I'm... busy," He whispers out finally, voice just barely huffing through the two words in a gruff manner. "Give me ten minutes."

Your lips push into a teasing pout. "You said that fifteen minutes ago, Lixie." Your tone had turned into less of a sweet, innocent lilt and instead to begging. Your voice heightens but remains soft and cute towards your boyfriend who was just oh so busy and too occupied at the moment to lean over and give you one little kiss on your pretty pink lips; All glossed up and sparkly for him, too! "Please..?~"

Felix blinks a few times. They're rapid and it's as if he's trying to collect his thoughts just as his character is pummeled on screen. His fingers come to a halt and he stares with a slack jaw at the way the finisher places over his monitor. "..... Are you.. --" His voice, back to it's normal tone, is low and heavy with disbelief. He'd stopped clicking his keys for less than two seconds and he was already dead. "Aish," The word of distress escapes Felix's lips through grit teeth and in a heavy hiss, "I told you that I'm busy at the --"

With parted lips and his chair swiveling to face you, Felix stops. His hands rest so carefully against the arms of his seat while he takes in the sight of you dressed so cutely in front of him. The outfit looks like something you'd wear on a date with him, and here he was sitting in grey sweats and a black t-shirt that was nearly two sizes too big on him. Did he forget something today or had you just decided on a whim to dress so cute just for fun?

Felix's eyes dart over your shoulders, down to your waist, up to your face for just a moment, and then down. He stares at the way the top you wear dips so low in the chest and exposes a peek of the valley between your breasts. As soon as Felix's jaw shuts, he swallows. If there was on thing Felix was; It was extremely bad at hiding how he felt. Not that there was really a way of hiding the way he chuffed up in his sweats, anyhow.

And that was how you asking for a simple kiss turned into you blowing him under his gaming desk while he played Tekken with his old roommates. He isn't very reactive other than a few soft sounds here and there or a shudder of his hips when you take him into your throat; But you have to admit that the way he's so nonchalant about you sucking his cock while he games (and the fact that he allows it) is... kind of hot.

Felix was always kind enough to let you use anything of his to game if you asked for it. He would never hesitate before handing over his Switch or giving you a controller - even booting up his PC and setting up a game for you so you could have fun, too. He loved watching you game on his accounts even if you lowered his rank or failed miserably and trolled people in chats; But one thing he enjoyed even more was watching you while you gamed.

The expressions you made, the way you smiled or pouted or laughed at something that happened while you played. He adores getting to see you in his element - it's something he feels is special, especially when you aren't really one to game in your free time. Well, not until you met him. Sometimes, his view isn't the best because he's between your legs - but he still loves watching you!

"You have Ankha on your island?" Your thigh gently presses to the side of your boyfriend's head where he lay between your legs, tongue lathing over your clit in slow circles. Felix's hand gently comes up to press against your thigh, carefully and slowly pushing it away from his head to spread you wider for him. His tongue falls broad and he licks through your folds with a heavy breath fanning over your mound. "I knew you were a freak."

Your teasing giggles make Felix's cheeks flush red. Of course he was a freak; He was eating his girlfriend out on the couch while you sat there so pretty and played on his Switch - which turned him on way more than it should've. Don't get him wrong, he loves when you blow him or grind on his lap or suck hickies into his neck while he's the one gaming and trying to focus; But Felix loves when you game instead and let him do the work with his mouth. It's an instinct, now. He'll see you grab his switch or sit in his gaming chair and he's automatically getting on his knees, crawling closer to you so he can tug your panties aside under your skirt and suck on your clit like it's his favorite thing to do in the world. And it is, really; Aside from gaming, of course.

Even if you don't get off, Felix likes doing sexual things... casually, so he's more than happy to lazily eat you out while you play on his accounts. He won't ever admit it to you but he thinks about it when he jerks his cock any time he's alone and can't have you when he needs you. You gaming is the one thing he can imagine that is a surefire way for him to get off; Nothing else has ever worked so well.

Felix can't have sex with you.

Well... not.. intercourse, at least.

Because you say so.

No matter how many times you tell him how sexy he is or how hot he is to his face, he knows you won't let him slip it in when you two go to bed that night. It'll be all dry humping through his boxers, his cock straining against the fabric as he ruts his hips slowly against your ass, his arms wrapped tight around your middle to keep you flush against him. You'll moan and whimper out how nice it feels and he'll gasp into your ear about how badly he needs you, but he knows that he won't be getting any tonight.

It was a little confusing at first, but then he figured out that it's essentially power play. The first time he had thought you two would be going all the way, you giggled at his expression of desperation and called him a virgin while you pulled his pants down and let his cock hit his stomach. That night, he was so hard it hurt, his tip muddy and pink and leaking from the way you had been rubbing at him through his jeans and grinding on him for at least an hour. He'd blinked up at you in surprise, eyes wide and glossy as he fought with his thoughts to figure out just what to say. Had you just.. insulted him to his face during sex, or....?

"You've never fucked a girl before, right? You're such a loser you can't even get it in." You chuckle, hand brushing up his chest in admiration. HIs physique was phenomenal for someone who sat in a gaming chair at least four hours a day. Though, he did work out often, and though he wasn't jacked like a lot of other guys at the gym - he was definitely defined in more ways than one.

Felix's lashes flutter as his lips part. What does he say to that? "I've -- Yeah. Never..."

"Awe, poor baby. You want me to be your first?" You cooed, to which Felix immediately began to nod. He sat back when you coaxed him onto the bed, standing in front of him and what felt like towering over him as he stared up at you. "You want to fuck me, Lix?"

His eyes squeeze shut the next time he blinks. You were into this dynamic. Teasing him, calling him names, making fun of him for being a virgin. And he was, too. "Y -- Yes. Yes, I want to fuck you-!" He chokes out the words with a shy gasp, shoulders hunching up towards his cheeks where he sits. He can't even look you in the eyes anymore, gaze directed towards your abdomen instead.

"That's too bad."

His head snaps upwards. What? But you just -!

"See, Felix," You lean down a bit closer to the blonde and as your hand slides over his shoulder, he realizes just by the look on your face that you won't be letting him tap it for a while. "You're just... too much of a loser to fuck a girl like me. You're hot, and all, but.. you're just a gamer boy. And I definitely like that about you, don't get me wrong, it's just...." Your lips settle into a mock pout. "I don't know why I'd let such a perverted loser fuck me. You've gotta show me just how much you want it, and, you know, why you deserve it."

Felix's mouth waters. He's a little ashamed at the way he almost drools at your words. He has to prove his worth to you for you to let him fuck you - He has to show you why he's worth your time. HIs lips pop apart and he does drool, spit sliding down onto your thumb, and he stares as you lift your finger to your mouth and suck his spit away from your skin. His pupils blow wide at the sight of your lips molding around the tip of your thumb, the way your tongue licks over where he'd literally drooled on you.

And Felix never minded proving himself to you; He also understood that the power dynamic really only took place in the bedroom. While he truly was just a loser in a hot body, you two were equal as human beings and you didn't really think of yourself as better than him. It was just to tease, just to rile him up. Until you gave in from either desperation for him or you finally thought he was 'good enough' to fuck you - He'd just keep doing what he was good at. Which was.. gaming, eating you out, and being a good boy in the apartment like cleaning up and cooking for the two of you.

Though, Felix is a man. He's hot, a gamer, and a virgin; But he's still just a man. And he's impatient, and he gets riled up when you tease him so much and make him wait for it over and over and over. He hopes you'll let him show you just how good he can be for you soon, or - this loser might just show you how hot he can be and flip the dynamics around on you when you least expect it.

You might not be aware of it now, but Felix is sure in his mind that he could make you behave for him if he flipped the switch.

He just had to figure out when he wanted to do so.

Permanent Taglist :

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@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

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#skz x reader #skz imagine #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #felix x reader #Lee Felix smut #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz fic #stray kids fic #skz x you #skz x y/n #lee felix x reader

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hanniebaeee · 4 months ago

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Jisung's Baby Fever

Jisung x fem!reader

Warnings: suggestive? MDNI

Genre: established relationship, fluff

Summary: You and Jisung are out at the beach, and witnessing a certain interaction has Jisung experiencing a wild case of baby fever.

It was a beautiful day. Sunny and warm - and Jisung had a free day in forever, so you two were at the beach. The sand was warm beneath your knees as you smoothed out the walls of the sandcastle.

A little moat encircled the castle, complete with a small bridge made from a piece of driftwood you found earlier.

"Masterpiece," you muttered to yourself as you leaned back to admire your work.

Jisung sat on a beach towel, sunglasses perched low on his nose as he watched you, strumming his guitar.

"Masterpiece? Sure," he teased, a smirk pulling at his lips.

You shot him a glare over your shoulder. "Don’t insult the castle you didn't lift a single finger to help build."

"I’m supervising, and providing the background score," he quipped, strumming the guitar harder. "You’re welcome."

He put his guitar aside with a grin and laid back, his arms folded under his head.

Before you could fire back, a tiny voice interrupted, "Can I help?"

You looked down to see a little girl, no older than three, clutching a bright pink bucket and looking up at you with wide, hopeful eyes. Her mum waved from a beach towel nearby, giving you an apologetic look.

"Of course you can!" you said warmly, giving her mum a thumbs up, and shifting over to make room. "Here, you can be in charge of the turrets."

The girl giggled happily and announced that her name is Mina, plopping down beside you and immediately getting to work. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and soon the two of you were modifying the castle. You helped her scoop wet sand into her bucket, and look for shells and other things for decoration. Mina squealed in joy as you showed her some sea glass and you both got back to your castle, giggling.

Jisung propped himself on one elbow as he watched the scene unfold. Ok. Wow. What's going on?

His heart twisted in ways he hadn’t expected. The sight of you laughing with the little girl, doing something as simple as building a sandcastle, hit him hard. He watched in silence for a good fifteen minutes.

“Look at her, Sungie!” You said, with a little laugh, watching the little one put shells on the castle.

"She’s adorable," Jisung said, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. "But, uh... I think it’s time to go home."

"Already? We just got here." You frowned.

He ran a hand through his hair, visibly flustered.

"Yeah, well, I’m... feeling some things. And it’s kinda a lot." He said, grabbing his guitar because he needed to ground himself.

“Feeling things? What things?” You asked, eyebrows raised.

"It means I’m looking at you playing mom over here, and it’s doing things to me," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "Like, maybe-we-should-make-one-of-our-own kind of things."

Your eyes went wide as you said, "I’m sorry. What?!"

"I’m just saying. You’re over here building castles with babies, and now I’m thinking about babies. Specifically ours." Jisung shrugged, trying and failing to appear nonchalant.

"Han Jisung!" you hissed, glancing at the Mina, who was too engrossed in her work to notice. "You can’t just say stuff like that!"

"Why not? You’re the one who started this," he teased, leaning in closer. "This is all your fault."

You huffed, turning back to the castle to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "I’m not abandoning my new bestie just because you’re having an existential crisis."

"Existential crisis?" he repeated, feigning offense. "I’ll have you know this is a perfectly rational reaction to seeing my insanely hot wife being ridiculously good with kids."

"Goodbye, Jisung," you said flatly, refusing to look at him.

"Fine," he said, standing and brushing off the sand. "If you won’t come willingly..."

Jisung looked over at the girl's mum and said, “Your little girl is amazing, she's such a joy!”

And the lady smiled, thanking him. And he said, “We're kinda heading back, so -”

You glared at him as he made small talk with Mina's mum as she came over, and then she thanked you for playing with her daughter.

You gave Mina a little high five before helping Jisung gather your things with a stony expression. He could see that you were miffed as you followed him really slow. When you two were a safe distance away from the family, Jisung struck.

You barely had time to process what he was doing before he scooped you up in his arms.

"Jisung!" you squealed, wriggling as he started walking toward the car. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he said, grinning. "You're slacking."

“Jisung, I swear to God!”

"You’re gonna thank me later, babe. Promise." Jisung chuckled, tightening his hold on you.

"I don't even know what to do with you," you grumbled, though you couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips.

"You love it," he shot back, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "Now let’s go. We’ve got a baby to plan."

“Oh my God! You can't just-”

He interrupted you by popping open the back door loudly and set you down gently on the seat.

"Okay, thanks for the ride. You can go now," you said, crossing your arms in mock indignation.

But instead of shutting the door and heading to the driver’s seat, Jisung climbed in after you, closing the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" You gave him a suspicious look.

"I think you need some convincing," he said matter-of-factly, settling in beside you.

"Convincing me of what?”

"That we need to fast-track this whole ‘baby’ thing. Like, today."

"Have you lost your mind, Ji?" You asked with a soft laugh.

"Probably," he admitted, leaning in closer with a grin. "But can you blame me? You were out there looking all cute and mom-like, and now my brain won’t shut up about how amazing you’d look holding our baby. You’re doing this to me, babe. This is your fault."

"Oh really?" you asked, trying to keep a straight face as he edged even closer.

"Listen," he said, his voice dipping lower as his gaze locked onto yours. "I’m serious. I was sitting there, minding my own business, and then suddenly, bam - baby fever. And it’s bad, babe. Real bad."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You are ridiculous."

"You should see yourself through my eyes right now. You’re beautiful, you’re amazing with kids, and you’re mine. And I’m just sitting here wondering how I got this lucky and how fast I can get you to come home with me."

His words made your heart do a funny little flip, even as you tried to keep things light.

"Jisung, you can’t just throw around words like that and expect me to go with it."

"Ahh babe," he murmured, leaning in until his nose was almost brushing yours. "I just need you to kiss me and admit that I’m right."

"Right about what?" you asked, your voice a teasing whisper.

"Right about us," he said softly, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. "Right about how we’d be amazing parents. Right about how we’re meant to be going home and working on the baby making right now."

You didn’t have a clever comeback for that. Instead, your heart thudded loudly in your chest as he closed the small gap between you, his lips brushing against yours.

The kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, but it quickly deepened as his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His other hand rested on your waist, anchoring you to him.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a triumphant smirk tugging at his lips.

"So," he said, his voice low and teasing. "Are you convinced yet? Or do I need to keep going?"

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide your smile. "You’re impossible."

"I think you mean irresistible," he countered, leaning in for another kiss. "Now, how about we head home and make some magic happen?"

You laughed, pushing him away playfully. "You’re lucky I love you, Han Jisung. But fine. Let’s go."

"That’s my girl," he said, pulling you close one last time before climbing out of the back seat to let you take the wheel.

And as you settled in for the ride, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, he was right.

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx @channie4lifeee143127 @lezleeferguson-120

#stray kids #skz #han x you #han x y/n #han x reader #han fluff #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung fluff #jisung x reader #jisung fluff #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff

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be4chywritez · 5 months ago

Text

red red wine | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

the week leading up to Quinn proposing to you, and the chaos that follows him.

recs are open + prompt list

beachy’s masterlist🐚

One Week Before

You stand in the kitchen of the lake house, absently scrolling through your phone while Jim and Ellen sit at the table, chatting over their morning coffee. Quinn is perched on a stool at the kitchen island, Jack and Luke beside him, all three listening in as you think out loud.

“I think I’m gonna get my nails done,” you say, mostly to yourself, glancing up from your screen. “I found this cute place nearby on Instagram. Might go check it out.”

Quinn freezes. Luke and Jack do the same, exchanging quick glances before all three of them force identical, strained smiles.

“Here?” Quinn asks, a little too casually.

You nod and turn your phone to show Ellen the pictures. “Yeah, thought it’d be nice to get a little pampered. Ellen, want to come with?”

For a split second, her eyes flick to Jim before she shakes her head with a warm—if slightly nervous—smile. “Oh, no, sweetheart. I think I’ll stay back, got a few things to tidy up around the house.”

You frown slightly, glancing between them. “I mean, I don’t have to go either. I could just hang—”

“NO!”

The entire Hughes family responds in unison, voices overlapping in a loud, comically panicked outburst. Even Jim, who’s been silent all morning, leans forward, wide-eyed like you just suggested setting the house on fire.

Quinn is the first to recover. He clears his throat and plasters on a quick, reassuring smile. “No, honey, you should definitely go. Treat yourself.” He waves a hand toward the door, trying—and failing—to sound nonchalant. “Have a nice day out.”

Your eyes narrow. “Okay…?” You drag the word out, suspicious, but slide your phone into your bag anyway. Grabbing your keys, you head for the door, throwing one last curious glance over your shoulder before stepping out.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Luke lets out a long breath. “Close call.”

Jim shakes his head, grinning. “She almost caught on already. We need to be more careful, boys.”

Downtown is quiet, the main street lined with flower boxes and little local shops. Lakeside Nails sits nestled between a café and an old bookstore, its windows decorated with delicate white lettering.

A nail tech waves you over with a friendly smile. “Hi! You must be my one o’clock.”

“That’s me.” You settle into the chair as she sets up.

“I’m Maya. What are we doing today?”

You pull up a photo. “Something like this? Just a clean, neutral look.”

Maya nods approvingly. “Pretty! So, just a little solo pampering trip?”

“Sort of. I’m staying at the lake house with my boyfriend and his family. Thought I’d take a little break and explore.”

Maya hums, focusing on your nails. “How’d you two meet?”

You smile, thinking back. “Through mutual friends. He was quiet at first, but then he made me laugh when I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t know… I just felt comfortable with him.”

“Those are the best ones,” she says with a grin. “Sounds like a good guy.”

“Yeah,” you say softly, warmth blooming in your chest. “He really is.”

When you walk back into the lake house, Quinn is stretched out on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He glances up as you come in, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

“Hey,” he says, sitting up. “Let’s see the nails.”

You plop down beside him, holding out your hand. He takes it, running his thumb lightly over your fingers. “Looks good,” he says, approving.

“Glad you think so.” You lean into him as his arm wraps around you, the warmth of his touch settling you into an easy quiet.

The rest of the evening is simple—pasta and salad for dinner, laughter when Quinn drops a handful of cherry tomatoes and watches them roll across the counter. Later, you curl up under a blanket with an old movie on, his fingers absentmindedly running through your hair. The house is peaceful, filled with the soft flicker of the TV and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

You don’t notice the way he looks at you. The way his gaze lingers, like he’s memorizing everything. Like he’s counting down.

Five Days Before

You wake slowly, the warmth of morning light filtering through the curtains. Quinn’s arm is draped over your waist, his hand resting lightly on your hip, his breathing steady and close. He stirs, his nose brushing against the back of your neck as he pulls you closer.

“Morning,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

You smile, rolling over to face him. His eyes are still half-closed, messy hair falling over his forehead. You trace your fingers along his cheek, feeling the scratch of stubble. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“Good morning,” you whisper.

He catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours before bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You don’t realize how he looks at you—like you might disappear if he blinks.

“Honey, we’re on breakfast duty,” you remind him.

Quinn groans, shoving his face into your collarbone, stubble tickling your skin. He mumbles something, voice muffled.

You laugh. “No, we can’t let your brothers do it. Unless you want the house to burn down.”

Another grunt, but this time, he shifts, reluctantly getting up. You follow, falling into your usual morning routine.

As you pull on a sweater, he watches from the bathroom mirror, hoping you don’t dig too far into his sock drawer.

Hoping you don’t find the velvet box.

You don’t, thanks to a the higher power, but it only puts more pressure on Quinn to pop the damn question.

Four Days Before

The lake house hums with its usual morning energy—Jack and Luke bickering over who gets the last pancake, Ellen moving around the kitchen with effortless ease, and Jim sipping his coffee while reading the newspaper like he’s immune to the chaos around him.

Quinn, however, is focused on one thing.

He leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching as you sit at the kitchen table, scrolling absently through your phone. Every few seconds, you look up to add something to the conversation, laughing as Luke launches a grape at Jack’s head. Quinn should be listening, should be jumping in with a comment of his own, but instead, his mind is caught on a single thought: How do I get her to buy the dress?

The dress—the one he wants to see you in when he finally asks the biggest question of his life. He saw it a few days ago when you were flipping through your phone, showing Ellen some boutique you wanted to check out. You hadn’t bought anything yet, just admired a few pieces before getting distracted by something else.

Now, with only four days to go, he needs to make sure you pick the one.

Quinn exhales through his nose and glances toward his brothers. Perfect.

Jack notices first, eyebrows furrowing as he watches Quinn silently glare at him. What? he mouths.

Quinn jerks his head toward the living room, signaling them to follow. Jack and Luke exchange a glance but don’t argue, trudging after him as he disappears down the hallway.

Once they’re out of earshot, Quinn turns to them, hands on his hips like he’s about to give them the most important assignment of their lives.

“Alright, I need you two to do something for me.”

Jack immediately groans. “Oh my god, what now?”

“It’s important,” Quinn says, leveling them with a look.

Luke raises an eyebrow. “Like, life-or-death important? Or are we talking Quinn-important, which means it’s about the love of your life?”

Jack snorts. “Yeah, do we need to prepare a eulogy?”

Quinn ignores them. “I need you guys to get her to buy a dress.”

Both of them stare at him.

“A dress,” Jack repeats flatly. “You dragged us away from breakfast for that?”

“Not just any dress,” Quinn says, rubbing the back of his neck. He feels stupid saying it out loud, but if there’s anyone who can pull this off without making it suspicious, it’s these two. “She was looking at this one the other day. It’s perfect for when I—” He stops himself before finishing the sentence, clearing his throat.

Luke catches on first. His eyes widen slightly before he grins. “Ohhh. You mean the dress.”

Jack still looks lost. “What—Oh. Ohhh.”

Quinn nods.

“Okay, so you want us to, what? Trick her into buying it?” Jack asks, crossing his arms.

“Not trick her,” Quinn corrects. “Just… steer her in the right direction.”

Luke grins. “You want us to gaslight her into thinking she needs it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You basically did,” Jack says.

Quinn sighs. “Can you two just do it?”

Luke claps a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Q, we got this. She’ll be buying that dress by the end of the day.”

Jack cracks his knuckles. “Time to be annoying.”

“Just don’t make it obvious,” Quinn warns.

Luke grins. “No promises.”

–

You hadn’t really planned on buying anything today.

The town’s little boutique district is charming, with its cobblestone paths and flower boxes hanging from the windows, but you were mostly browsing—taking in the sights, enjoying the crisp summer air, and, apparently, getting bombarded with very strong opinions from Jack and Luke.

“I’m just saying,” Jack starts, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets, “you’ve been talking about wanting a nice dress for a while.”

“Have I?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Luke, walking on your other side, nods solemnly. “Oh yeah. All the time. Constantly.”

You snort. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t.”

Jack ignores you. “And look at this!” He gestures dramatically toward one of the boutique windows. “A whole store dedicated to dresses! What are the odds?”

“Crazy,” Luke deadpans.

You give them a suspicious look. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re great,” Jack says. “But you’d be even better if you had a new dress.”

Luke nods. “The best version of yourself, really.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “What is wrong with you two?”

“Nothing,” Jack says quickly. “We just care about you. And your wardrobe.”

“Especially that one dress you liked the other day,” Luke adds casually. “That was a good one.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you even know about that?”

Jack elbows Luke.

He gives you a pained smile, “intuition?”

Luke sighs dramatically, turning toward you. “Look,, all I’m saying is that you should try it on. No pressure. No commitment. Just try it on and see how you feel.”

“Yeah,” Jack agrees. “Worst case? You hate it, and we all move on with our lives. Best case? You look amazing, and you thank us forever.”

You roll your eyes but, against your better judgment, let them lead you inside. The boutique is small but elegant, with soft lighting and carefully arranged racks of clothing. A sales associate greets you warmly, and before you know it, Luke and Jack are pushing you toward the exact dress they’ve clearly been scheming about.

You sigh, running your fingers over the fabric. It is beautiful.

“Just try it,” Luke urges. “For science.”

“For science,” Jack echoes.

You huff a laugh. “Fine. But if I don’t like it, you both owe me coffee.”

“Deal,” they say in unison.

Ten minutes later, you step out of the dressing room, smoothing your hands over the fabric. The dress fits perfectly, hugging in all the right places, flowing just enough to feel effortless. You glance at your reflection in the boutique mirror, tilting your head slightly.

“Well?” Jack asks, leaning forward eagerly.

Luke grins. “Yup. That’s the one.”

You shake your head, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You guys are the worst.”

“And yet, we just helped you find your new favorite dress,” Jack points out.

You sigh. “Fine. But you’re still buying me coffee.”

Luke claps his hands. “Worth it.”

Meanwhile, back at the lake house, Quinn gets a text.

Luke: Mission accomplished.

He exhales, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Three more days.

Three Days Before

The morning sun spills through the windows of the lake house, casting warm golden hues over the kitchen. You hum softly to yourself as you pour a cup of coffee, the scent of roasted beans filling the air. Ellen is at the stove flipping pancakes while Jim reads the newspaper at the table, occasionally sipping his coffee. Jack and Luke sit across from him, bickering over who gets the last piece of toast.

Quinn stands by the fridge, looking unusually tense as he scrolls through his phone. You don’t think much of it—he’s always been the quiet, deep-in-thought type—but there’s something about the way he keeps glancing at you that makes you pause.

"Morning," you say, leaning against the counter as you take a slow sip of coffee. "What's up?"

Quinn's head snaps up like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. His fingers tighten around his phone, and for a second, he looks almost guilty.

"Uh—nothing. Just checking something." His voice is too quick, too casual, and you narrow your eyes.

Before you can push him further, Ellen calls over her shoulder, "Sweetheart, could you grab the syrup?"

You nod and step toward the pantry, but just as you do, Quinn leans closer to Ellen and whispers something.

You freeze mid-step.

It’s barely audible, just the faintest murmur of his voice, but you catch it. Ellen’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she quickly schools her expression into something neutral.

Jim, who’s been mostly uninvolved in the morning chaos, suddenly folds his newspaper with a snap and clears his throat. Jack and Luke immediately stop arguing and sit up straighter, the air shifting ever so slightly.

You narrow your eyes. "Okay, what was that?"

Quinn immediately shakes his head. "What was what?"

"The whispering. The weird glances. Why do you all look like you just got caught committing a crime?"

Jack lets out a bark of nervous laughter. "Pfft, what? No crime here."

Luke elbows him, and he winces. "We were just—uh, talking about, um—"

"The weather," Jim supplies, nodding sagely.

"The weather?" you repeat flatly.

"Yup," Quinn says, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl and peeling it aggressively like that’ll somehow sell the lie.

You cross your arms, skeptical. "And what, exactly, about the weather required a top-secret family meeting?"

Ellen waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, just—just how lovely it's supposed to be this weekend! Perfect for, um, outdoor activities."

Jack nods. "Yeah, so perfect. Like, suspiciously perfect."

Luke elbows him again.

You squint at them, taking a slow sip of your coffee, watching as they all sit a little too still, looking a little too casual.

Something is definitely going on.

But before you can press further, Quinn suddenly steps forward, wraps an arm around your waist, and presses a kiss to your temple.

"Hey, didn’t you want to go into town today?" His voice is soft, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hip.

You blink up at him. "I mean, yeah, but—"

"Perfect," he says quickly. "You should go. Take your time. Enjoy yourself."

Jack and Luke nod in unison. "Yes. Enjoy. Take hours if you need."

Your eyes dart between them. They are terrible liars. But you sigh, deciding to let it go—for now.

"Fine," you say slowly, grabbing your bag. "But if I find out you guys are hiding something from me—"

"You won’t!" they all chorus at once.

You stare for another long beat before shaking your head and heading for the door.

As soon as it closes behind you, Quinn lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair.

Luke whistles. "That was way too close."

Jim chuckles. "You boys need to step up your game. She's sharp."

Quinn groans, rubbing his face. "I know. And we still have two more days of this."

Jack claps a hand on his shoulder. "Good luck, bud. You're gonna need it.

Two Days Before

The lake stretches out before you, calm and glassy under the moonlight. It’s late—too late to still be outside, but the warmth of summer lingers in the air, and neither of you wants to go in just yet.

You sit beside Quinn on the dock, your legs dangling over the edge, bare feet skimming the cool water. The night is quiet, save for the occasional chirp of crickets and the distant rustling of trees.

Quinn hasn’t said much in the last few minutes.

He sits close—so close that your shoulders press together, his warmth seeping into you. His hand is resting between you, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for you but is too lost in thought to do it.

You nudge him gently. "Penny for your thoughts?"

He exhales, a soft, slow sound. "Just thinking."

You tilt your head, watching him. His profile is illuminated by the glow of the moon, sharp angles softened by the night. His jaw flexes, and his fingers tighten slightly against the dock.

"About what?"

He hesitates, then turns to you. "The future."

Your chest tightens, a warmth blooming there. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." His voice is quiet, thoughtful. "I was just thinking about... where we'll be, years from now." He swallows, his throat bobbing. "What it'll look like."

You smile, leaning into him. "And? What does it look like?"

He glances down at his hands. "Us," he says simply. "Still together. Maybe a house. Maybe a dog." His lips twitch. "You always talk about wanting a golden retriever."

Your heart stutters.

"You actually listen when I say that?"

His brow furrows. "Of course I do."

There’s something so earnest about the way he says it—so completely sure.

You take his hand in yours, threading your fingers together. "I like that version of the future," you say softly.

Quinn looks at you then, his eyes dark and unreadable, something heavy sitting behind them. For a second, you think he’s about to say something—something big.

But instead, he squeezes your hand.

"Me too."

He presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles, then rests his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes, breathing him in, feeling the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart.

Neither of you says anything else.

But Quinn’s already made up his mind.

Tomorrow, he finds the perfect spot.

And in two days, he asks you to be his forever.

One Day Before

The lake stretches endlessly before you, a shimmering expanse of deep blue beneath the warmth of the afternoon sun. A gentle breeze tugs at your hair, and the rhythmic rocking of the boat lulls you into a peaceful state. The water is calm, only disturbed by the occasional ripple from a passing jet ski or the soft lapping against the side of the boat.

You inhale deeply, letting the fresh air fill your lungs as you lean back against the cushioned seat. The warmth of the sun kisses your skin, and for the first time in a long while, you feel like time has slowed down.

Jim sits at the helm, hands steady on the wheel as he navigates through the open water. His expression is relaxed, a rare sight considering the chaos that usually follows whenever all three of his boys are together.

Ellen sits beside you, sunglasses perched on her nose, a soft smile on her lips as she watches the water shimmer.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” she muses, her voice light with contentment.

You nod, shifting slightly to soak in more of the sun. “Yeah, it really is.”

It’s not often that you get moments like this—just the three of you. Usually, Jack and Luke are wreaking havoc, Quinn is rolling his eyes fondly at their antics, and everything is a blur of chirps and laughter. But today is quiet. Peaceful.

You glance around the boat, taking in the emptiness where Quinn should be.

Your chest tightens slightly.

This morning, when you asked him if he was coming, he had been vague—mumbling something about needing to run an errand and promising he’d see you later. You hadn’t pushed, but now, with the afternoon stretching on without him, you can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Ellen asks gently, tilting her head toward you.

You blink, realizing you had been staring at the empty seat beside you. Forcing a smile, you nod. “Yeah, just thinking.”

Ellen hums knowingly. “Quinn will be back soon, don’t worry. He’s probably just making sure whatever he’s doing is absolutely perfect.”

Jim chuckles from the driver’s seat. “Sounds about right.”

You frown slightly, narrowing your eyes. “Do you guys know something I don’t?”

Ellen and Jim exchange a quick glance, but Ellen’s smile doesn’t waver.

“Oh, honey,” she says, reaching over to pat your hand. “We always know something you don’t.”

You roll your eyes, laughing despite yourself.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of warmth and comfort. You soak up every moment—the way the sun reflects off the water like scattered diamonds, the sound of Jim’s easy laughter, the way Ellen insists on reapplying sunscreen to your shoulders even though you swear you’re fine.

And for a little while, you let yourself forget the strange feeling in your chest.

Meanwhile, deep in the woods, Quinn is on a mission.

Your absence is a weight he feels in his chest, but he knows this is worth it.

His boots crunch against the forest floor as he makes his way through the secluded clearing he stumbled upon earlier. The air smells like pine and fresh earth, the quiet only disturbed by the rustling of leaves in the wind.

It’s perfect. Tucked away from the main trails, surrounded by towering trees, with a small opening where the lake peeks through.

This is it.

Carefully, he unrolls the string of photos he printed last week, each one capturing a frozen moment in time—the two of you at your first hockey game together, laughing with noses pressed close; a blurry snapshot of you mid-laugh, taken when you weren’t looking; a quiet moment in bed, tangled in the sheets with sunlight painting your skin.

Every single one tells your story.

His hands shake slightly as he fastens them to the branches, adjusting them until they drape just right.

“Dude, this is insanely romantic,” Jack mutters behind him.

Quinn steps back, hands on his hips as he surveys the clearing. The photos sway gently in the breeze, catching the fading sunlight. Everything is almost perfect.

Except for Jack, who is standing in the middle of the setup like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“This is so weird,” Jack complains, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t know why I have to be her.”

Quinn sighs, rubbing his temples. “Because I need to make sure everything looks right, and you’re the closest to her height.”

“That’s actually so offensive,” Jack deadpans. “I don’t even know how, but it is.”

Luke snorts from behind the camera. “Just shut up and stand there, man. You’re ruining the vision.”

Jack groans dramatically but doesn’t move. “You owe me for this, dude. Big time.”

Quinn ignores him, stepping closer to adjust the positioning. He takes a deep breath, trying to picture you standing there instead of his little brother, who is doing a horrible job of being still.

“This is where I’ll kneel,” Quinn murmurs, mostly to himself. He drops down, testing the angle, the feel of the moment. His heart races, imagining the way you’ll look—eyes wide, lips parted in surprise, the way your breath will hitch right before you say yes.

Jack stares down at him, unimpressed. “I feel like I should be flattered, but mostly I feel like an idiot.”

Quinn huffs, looking up at him. “Can you at least pretend to be in love with me?”

Jack stares blankly for a second before bursting out laughing. “Dude. Dude. I cannot take this seriously.” He turns to Luke, who’s adjusting the camera settings. “Are you getting this? The absolute desperation in his eyes?”

Luke barely glances up. “You’re making it worse.”

“I’m making this worse?” Jack gestures at the setup. “Quinn is professing his undying love to me right now, and I’M the problem?”

Quinn groans, running a hand over his face. “Just shut up and look moved or something.”

Jack schools his expression into something vaguely serious and stares dramatically into the distance. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he says, voice overly soft. “We’ve been through so much together.”

Luke nearly drops the camera laughing. “Oh my god,” he wheezes.

Quinn pinches the bridge of his nose. “I hate both of you.”

Jack smirks, but he does settle down a little, standing a bit more still as Quinn makes the final adjustments.

After a few minutes of adjusting the lighting and the placement of the photos, Luke finally lifts the camera. “Alright, let’s get a test shot.”

Jack sighs dramatically but stays put. Quinn watches as Luke moves around, snapping photos from different angles. He frowns slightly, tilting the camera to check the preview.

“It looks good,” Luke says slowly, adjusting the focus. “But I think we need—Jack, stop standing like that.”

Jack scoffs. “Like what?”

“Like a dude who is about to ask another dude to prom,” Luke deadpans. “You look so uncomfortable.”

Jack throws his arms out. “Because I am uncomfortable! I am literally standing in the middle of a fake proposal, playing the role of my brother’s girlfriend.”

Quinn shakes his head. “Fine. Just—stand normal.”

Jack exhales sharply but follows instructions, his posture finally settling into something less stiff.

Luke snaps a few more photos before nodding. “Okay, that’s it. That’s the shot.”

Quinn steps back, taking in the clearing one last time. The photos, the lighting, the atmosphere—it’s all exactly how he pictured it. His heart pounds as he exhales, the reality of it hitting him all at once.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, you will be standing here.

Tomorrow, you will be the one in front of him when he kneels.

And tomorrow, you will say yes.

Jack claps him on the back, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Alright, Romeo. Can we go now? I have literally never felt more single in my life.”

Quinn rolls his eyes, but there’s a fondness behind it. “Yeah, we’re done.”

Luke stretches, shoving the camera back into his bag. “You better make this the best proposal of all time, bro. Because if we went through all of this for nothing—”

Quinn grins, confidence settling in his chest. “She’s gonna love it.”

Jack sighs dramatically. “You owe us.”

Quinn just laughs, already imagining how perfect tomorrow will be.

That night, you’re curled up in bed when Quinn finally slips into the room. The warmth of his body presses against yours as he slides beneath the covers, pulling you into his arms.

“You have fun today?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Mmm,” you hum, half-asleep. “Missed you.”

His chest tightens.

He buries his face in your hair, arms tightening around you. “Missed you too.”

You sigh softly, relaxing into him.

Quinn stays awake long after you drift off, heart thudding with anticipation.

One more night.

Tomorrow, everything changes.

Proposal Day

The morning sun filters through the kitchen windows, casting a golden glow over the lake house. The scent of fresh coffee lingers in the air as you lean against the counter, watching the Hughes family settle into their usual breakfast chaos.

Jack is the first to steal the last piece of toast off Luke’s plate, and Luke retaliates by flicking a grape at his forehead. Quinn sighs, stirring his coffee like he’s debating whether it’s worth intervening. Ellen is at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease, while Jim nurses his coffee at the table, reading something on his phone.

Ellen turns toward you with a smile. “I was thinking,” she starts, “since everyone’s here, we should do a nice family dinner tonight.”

Luke perks up. “Ooh, like a fancy dinner? Do I have to wear a button-up?”

“Yes,” Ellen says firmly.

Jack groans dramatically. “Can I at least wear my nice hoodie?”

Jim barely looks up. “No.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you sip your coffee. “A dinner sounds nice.”

Ellen nods. “Good, because I already bought all the stuff.”

Quinn finally speaks, glancing at you. “You should wear that dress you got.”

You arch an eyebrow. “The one you definitely weren’t scheming to get me to buy?”

Jack and Luke both snicker, and Quinn glares at them before turning back to you, feigning innocence. “What? I just think you’d look really nice in it.”

Luke leans in conspiratorially. “You should do it. Mostly because if you don’t, Quinn will spend the entire dinner sulking and staring at you like a sad puppy.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Jack smirks. “Nope. That’s how we end up with emo Quinn, and nobody wants that.”

Quinn groans. “I hate all of you.”

Ellen hides a smile as she flips another pancake. “You love them,” she corrects.

Quinn sighs, shooting you a hopeful glance. “So, the dress?”

You shake your head, amused. “Fine. But if I do, Luke and Jack owe me dessert.”

Luke claps a hand over his heart. “Done.”

Jack nods. “Easiest deal of my life.”

Quinn smiles to himself, satisfied. One step closer.

Dinner starts out promising enough. The table is set, the food looks amazing, and the sunset paints the lake in warm hues. It should be perfect.

And then… things start to go sideways.

First, Luke—being Luke—tries to help bring the dishes to the table and nearly drops the salad bowl. In his panic to save it, he elbows Jack, who’s carrying a basket of rolls. The bread goes flying, one roll landing directly in Jim’s drink.

“Nice,” Jim mutters, plucking it out with a sigh.

Ellen shakes her head, clearly unimpressed but used to this kind of chaos. “Can we go one meal without something ending up on the floor?”

Jack, unfazed, shrugs. “Technically, it landed in Dad’s glass.”

You try to hold back a laugh as Quinn pulls out a chair for you, but the moment you sit, you realize something is… off. The seat wobbles, just enough to be noticeable, and before you can react, one of the legs gives way entirely.

“Shit—”

You barely manage to catch yourself before fully hitting the ground. Quinn moves fast, steadying you before you can completely fall, but the damage is done. Luke is doubled over laughing, and Jack is wheezing so hard he can’t breathe.

“I—” Jack tries, but he’s laughing too hard to finish. “I swear—we didn’t—touch—that chair—”

Quinn glares at them before looking at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, face burning as you straighten up. “Just my pride taking a hit.”

Ellen sighs. “That chair was wobbly this morning. I told you boys to fix it.”

Jack wipes a tear from his eye. “Well, now we know it was definitely broken.”

Dinner resumes, and for a few blessed minutes, everything is normal. The conversation flows, the food is delicious, and you almost forget about the earlier chaos.

Until Luke, in all his wisdom, decides he needs more steak sauce. He reaches across the table, miscalculating just how close his elbow is to your glass of wine.

The second the glass tips, it’s over.

Red wine splashes everywhere—your dress, the table, Quinn’s sleeve.

“Oh my God,” you exclaim, pushing back from the table as the cold liquid soaks into the fabric.

Luke freezes. “Oh—oh, shit. Oh, no—”

Ellen is already up, grabbing napkins. “Luke.” Her voice is the kind of exasperated that only comes from years of dealing with sons who can’t sit still. “Seriously?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Luke looks at you with pure panic. “I—I can fix this—”

Jack leans back, shaking his head. “Man, you just ruined her dress.”

“I know!” Luke groans, looking like he genuinely feels terrible. “I’ll—uh—I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

Quinn, who’s been silent through all of this, takes one look at you and then turns to Luke with the calmest voice imaginable.

“Get up.”

Luke blinks. “What?”

“Get. Up.”

There’s a long pause before Luke, sensing the very real possibility of Quinn throwing him into the lake, slowly pushes his chair back and stands.

Quinn doesn’t hesitate—he grabs Luke’s napkin and dabs at your dress, his brows furrowed in frustration. “I told you not to sit next to her.”

Luke throws his hands up. “How is this my fault?!”

Ellen sighs again. “Alright, alright, it’s just a little wine.” She turns to you. “Honey, let’s go see if we can salvage your dress.”

You follow her inside, but despite her best efforts, the stain refuses to come out.

You sigh, looking at Ellen through the mirror. “Ellen, I think it’s unsalvageable.”

She looks up at you, guilt evident on her face. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

You shake your head with a small smile. “It’s fine, really.”

When you return downstairs, Luke looks like a kicked puppy, eyes glued to the floor. Quinn scans your dress, his jaw tightening.

“Goddammit, Luke,” Quinn mutters.

You step beside him, nudging Luke lightly with your foot. “It’s fine, really,” you say softly.

Quinn exhales, rubbing his jaw before looking at you. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

You blink at him. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice quieter now, more certain. “Right now.”

You hesitate, then nod. “Okay.”

The night air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the lingering warmth of the lake. The sound of crickets hums in the background as you and Quinn walk in comfortable silence, his fingers laced through yours. The chaos of dinner fades into the background, replaced by the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath your feet.

“You okay?” you ask softly, glancing up at him.

Quinn exhales through his nose, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Just… today didn’t go exactly how I planned.”

You squeeze his hand. “You had a plan?”

His smile grows slightly. “Believe it or not, yeah. Kind of.”

You smirk. “Well, that was your first mistake.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Tell me about it.”

You keep walking, but the farther you go, the more familiar the path becomes. It’s only when the trees thin, revealing a quiet clearing, that you realize where he’s leading you. Your steps slow as you take it in.

Strung between the branches, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon and the fairy lights Quinn must have set up earlier, are dozens of photos—memories captured and preserved in time.

Your breath catches as you step forward, reaching out to gently touch one of them. It’s a picture from your first hockey game together, noses nearly pressed together as you grinned at the camera. Another of you mid-laugh, eyes crinkled with joy. One from a lazy morning in bed, sunlight spilling across your tangled limbs.

Every single one tells your story.

You turn back to Quinn, your chest tight with emotion. “You did all this?”

He nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I—I wanted you to see what I see. Every time I look at you, it’s just… it’s all of this. Every moment, every memory, everything that makes us, us.”

Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“I wanted everything to be perfect,” he continues, voice quiet but steady. “I had this whole idea in my head—this big, perfect moment. The dinner, the dress, the way tonight was supposed to go.” He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “And then Luke knocked wine all over you, and Jack wouldn’t stop chirping, and everything kind of fell apart.”

You smile, tilting your head. “Sounds about right.”

Quinn looks at you, his blue eyes searching yours. “Yeah. But then I realized… this is perfect.” He lets out a small, breathy laugh, almost like he’s realizing it in real time. “The chaos, the interruptions, the fact that nothing ever goes exactly how we plan it. That’s us. That’s our life.”

Your breath catches slightly.

He takes a deep breath, then lets go of one of your hands, reaching into his pocket. And suddenly, he’s kneeling before you, a small velvet box in his palm, slightly illuminated by the moonlight.

“I don’t need the perfect moment,” he says, looking up at you. “I just need you.”

Your heart pounds, your vision blurring as you try to take in everything at once—the way he’s looking at you, the way his fingers tremble just slightly around the box, the way the entire world feels like it’s tilting on its axis.

“Marry me?” he asks, voice soft but sure.

You let out a shaky breath, a laugh breaking through the tears already forming in your eyes. “Quinn, of course I’ll marry you.”

A breath of relief escapes him before he grins—grins in that rare, open way he only does when he’s truly happy. He stands quickly, slipping the ring onto your finger before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

You bury your face in his shoulder, laughing through your tears. “God, I love you.”

His grip tightens around you, his voice warm against your ear. “Love you more.”

By the time you and Quinn make it back, hand in hand, the Hughes family is waiting—Jack and Luke perched on the couch, Jim leaning against the counter, and Ellen practically bouncing in place.

Jack spots the ring first. “Oh my god—”

Ellen claps her hands together, her eyes shining. “You said yes?”

You hold up your hand, and the room erupts.

Jack groans dramatically, flopping back onto the couch. “I can’t believe this. Quinn won at life.”

Jim claps Quinn on the shoulder with a proud nod, and Ellen pulls you into a tight hug, murmuring how happy she is for you both.

Luke hangs back, hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes darting toward you before dropping to the floor. His face is tight, like he’s been debating something in his head.

You don’t give him the chance to overthink it. Without a word, you step toward him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

Luke stiffens in surprise before slowly relaxing, exhaling a breath. “I—I really didn’t mean to ruin your dress,” he mumbles, voice small.

You smile against his shoulder. “I know, Luke. It’s just a dress.”

He hesitates before hugging you back, his grip a little tight, like he’s still worried about the whole thing. “I felt really bad.”

You pull back just enough to look at him. “Well, you can make it up to me by giving a really good speech at the wedding.”

His eyes widen. “Wait—I can do a speech?”

Quinn sighs, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “I never said that.”

Luke smirks. “You didn’t have to.”

Jack groans. “Oh god, this is gonna be unbearable.”

Quinn shakes his head, pulling you back to his side. “I should’ve proposed in private,” he mutters under his breath.

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “Nah. This is perfect.”

And as the Hughes family falls into their usual rhythm of chirps and laughter, as Quinn’s hand tightens around yours, you know that nothing—no chaos, no spilled wine, no wobbly chairs—could have made this moment any better.

beachy’s notes: hello babes please please, please send me fic requests

#be4chywrites #nhl x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #huggy bear

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everfallenwings · 5 months ago

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found family; with sae itoshi -> female reader

imagine volunteering at japan's u20 working a small job but unintentionally becoming friends with SAE ITOSHI... no, not having the usual equal respect and companionship, or expectant friends to lovers. you're the same age as his little brother, so he oddly treats you like a little sister. the weird thing? he's so nonchalant about it.

"excuse me, but they're confirming if you wanted a red or white zip up again..." twiddling with your fingers softly before pointing to your pushy bosses, you seem to be making good friends with the floor while speaking to a famous, pro-league, good-looking but mean soccer player (sae itoshi). your classmates were all practically screaming at how lucky you were to secure volunteer service in professional sports, in professional soccer. i mean, the card collecter boys in your class were practically feining, asking you for autographs and other stupid favours. maybe you could ask for a picture, yeah—you were definitely going to ask sae itoshi for a picture, but that thought was soon dispersed at the man's dismisive tone. "white is fine," the midfielder curtly replies, with a straight face and one hand planted on the side of his hip. "how old are you?" he looks down at you with the world's most unreadable gaze and ridiculously long lower lashes, "sixteen." you reply, finally facing him. "oh," sae dryly responds, that bored look in his eyes in never, "you're about the same age as my little brother."

oh!

"[name], come here." sae itoshi murmurs, laying flat on the floor in the middle of the training center, you look around the empty facility at five in the morning, confirming if he was even POSSIBLY speaking to you again. "yeah?" he tuts on the floor, lifting a muscled leg in your field of vision, "i need help stretching, pull on my leg."

your eyes scan hesitantly over the dangling cleat, before your hands lock around his ankle, attempting to pull and soothe his strange stretching, though definitely failing. why was the midfielder so heavy? he wasn't even trying to make this easier by at least slightly lifting himself. "you're bad at this, not even lukewarm." he'd say, though his tone didn't show any real frustation or intended offense. instead, cerulean eyes blow open when you pull a little too hard and hear something crack that most likely wasn't supposed to.

on other days, he'd pat your head and buy you a popsicle, two for the price of one was a better deal, anyway.

and on the day of japan's u20 verus blue lock's eleven, when RIN ITOSHI's piercing gaze catches the melting popsicle clutched in your hand and sae handing you a napkin, he freezes. his gaze softens in a way that doesn't melt away at the icy chambers of his heart, but instead softens and melts it wholly intead. that day, you were genuinely bewildered and confused that blue lock's number one gave you more dirty looks that day than any actual player on the field.

"your brother is scary," you mutter, causing the taller midfielder beside you perk up in interest. "he kept giving me death glares." sae rolls his eyes at the thought, "maybe he likes you, i dunno. he's in his rebillious phase." it truly made you, at your adolescent age, realise that sae itoshi's head was entirely hollow when not thinking about football. buuut, he buys you ice cream, so who really cares?

-> series masterlist

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gf2bellamy · 6 months ago

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concerned — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you have to go undercover and spencer doesn't like it content warnings: mention of unsub and his victims a/n: i'm definitely back in my spencer era <3

You had been working tirelessly alongside the team for days, pouring over profiles and victimology. The unsub had a clear pattern, targeting young women in bars, women who exuded just the right mix of confidence and vulnerability. Hotch stood at the front of the room, outlining the plan. As he reached the part about luring the unsub out, his gaze shifted to you.

“You’ll be the target,” he said simply, like it was the most logical conclusion. Your stomach did a small flip, but you nodded, pushing aside any hesitation. After analyzing the victims’ profiles, it made sense. You fit his type. But before you could fully process the plan, a voice broke the silence.

“Wait—what?”

You turned, startled, to see Spencer, his wide eyes darting between you and Hotch. The entire team paused, their attention snapping to him.

Hotch’s brow arched slightly. “Is there a problem, Reid?” he asked, his tone pointed. Spencer froze, his face flushing a deep shade of red. He clearly hadn’t meant to speak out loud, and now he was trapped under the weight of everyone’s gaze.

“Uh—uhm, I just… I thought maybe she could…” He stumbled over his words, gesturing vaguely toward the case files as if searching for an excuse. “...help me with… uh… something else? Or maybe—”

He cut himself off, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Derek leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. His gaze flicked between you and Spencer, and you knew instantly that he had caught on to what was happening. Hotch didn’t look amused. His focus returned to you, dismissing Spencer’s flustered protest.

“Get ready,” he nodded at you, before returning to the briefing as if nothing had happened. As the team dispersed to prepare for the operation, Emily sidled up beside you, her expression sly.

“Looks like someone’s a little worried about you,” she said with a teasing smile, her voice low enough that only you could hear.

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth rising in your cheeks betrayed you. “He’s just being... Spencer,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Emily chuckled as she patted your arm. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

She walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart thudding a little harder than it should have.

You glanced over at Spencer, who was still at the far end of the room, pretending to busy himself with paperwork. He wasn’t looking at you now, but the pink flush on his cheeks hadn’t faded. You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. Maybe Emily wasn’t entirely wrong.

Spencer was hunched over the file, his eyes darting across the page, but you could tell he wasn’t actually reading it. Every so often, his gaze flicked up toward you and then quickly back down, like he was trying to be subtle and failing miserably.

“Spence,” you said softly as you walked over to him.

He stiffened slightly but looked up, meeting your gaze for the briefest of moments. “Hmm?” he hummed, his voice nonchalant, though you could see the unease written all over his face.

You stopped in front of him, offering a small smile. “I’ll be okay. You know that, right?”

His hand went to the back of his neck, scratching it nervously as he avoided your eyes. “I know that,” he mumbled, though his tone wasn’t convincing.

“Do you?” You tilted your head, trying to catch his gaze.

Spencer finally looked up at you, his lips pressing together in a thin line. “He just seems dangerous,” he said, his words spilling out quickly. “And fast. And I’m concerned that we won’t be quick enough, that something could happen to you before—”

You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm to stop the ramble before he could spiral further. The touch was brief, mindful of how Spencer felt about physical contact, but it was enough to catch his attention.

“Spence, stop,” you said softly, cutting through his anxious train of thought. His eyes met yours fully now, the worry in them clear as day.

“How about I ask Hotch if Derek can be in the bar too?” you suggested, your tone light, though you were serious. “As extra backup? Will that make you feel better?”

He hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing the idea. Then, with a small exhale, he nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said, a faint, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Good,” you said, grinning softly. “See? Problem solved.”

Before you turned to leave, you gave his arm a light squeeze. “I’ll be fine, Spencer,” you said again.

He watched you walk away, his eyes following you as if to reassure himself. Though he didn’t say it aloud, the small, grateful smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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vivimura · 6 months ago

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headcanon - cuddles with boyfriend!riki ♡

PAIRING ~ sleepybf!nrk x menacegf!reader

SUMMARY ~ your boyfriend riki never lets you be the big spoon when cuddling and probably never will.

GENRE ~ fluuffff, disgustingly cute, playful argument.

WORD COUNT ~ 984

ᯓ★ i'm gonna die lonely this is so cute is it so much to ask for

with an exaggerated sigh of tiredness, you launched yourself to the comfort of your’s and riki's shared bed, squirming into the warm material of the black duvet covering it. you made grabby hands at him as an invitation for him to join.

riki fondly rolled his eyes at your actions, rather theatrics. he pulled his shirt off first, leaving his torso exposed before he climbed onto the bed and flopped on his side, on his designated side of the bed. he patted the space next to him. “come here,” he mumbled, his eyes already closed.

you huffed at his mannerisms and blatant laziness of making an effort to move, but enjoyed his cuddles too much to not roll your way closer to him, giggling as you did so.

with practiced movements, you pulled the duvet to cover both of your bodies, essentially blocking out the rest of the world.

as soon as your body was next to his, riki’s arms were around you. he pulled you in so your body was flush against his, your back pressed against his chest. his face buried into the crook of your neck, his breath fanning your skin once again as he settled down.

he sighed deeply in contentment, completely relaxed now that you were with him again. “mine..”

you frowned at the sudden and disrespectfully forced spooning. you wriggled in place, tapping on his arms surrounding you in a manner undoubtedly annoying. “you never let me be the big spoon!”

riki smirked lazily as he held you tighter in place, basically molding your body to his. “and i’m not gonna,” he mumbled against your neck, his words slightly muffled. “i like holding you like this.. you’re so small..”

“rikiii..” you whined out his name quietly, yet in a pitch high enough to deliberately irritate him. you squirmed in place, attempting to turn around and be the one spooning him instead.

riki let out an amused scoff as you tried to push against him, your small hands attempting and failing to flip yourself over. “nuh-uh,” his arms were like iron as he held you against him, refusing to let you even budge. “stay..”

“this is so unfair..” you dramatized in a way that might make one believe it was the end of the world. you gave up trying to turn around, momentarily, deciding to dig your face into the pillow below your head, angrily grumbling into it.

his smirk turned into a full on grin as he listened to your muttered complaints.. riki found it so adorable, the way you had tried to push yourself over but ultimately failed— you just weren’t strong enough.

you were just so adorable. he pulled you even closer to him, arms wrapped fully around your middle and chest against your back. he nuzzled his face against your hair, eyes closing again. “cutie..”

his little compliment only managed to irk you. here you were, trying to hold your boyfriend and lull him to sleep, and he was calling you cute? “just let me spoon you, ki!” you whined out, your attempts to sound intimidating only coming across as a child denied candy to him.

“no.” one of his legs slipped in between yours, pushing them apart as he tangled with them. “no spooning me.”

“well, why not?” you questioned, with a small pout.

“cause i’m holding you instead..” riki mumbled, rubbing his nose against your ear. “and i’m not letting you go..” one of his hands came to rest on your hip, his fingers lightly massaging your skin. “stay still.. and go to sleep..”

with a petulant ‘hmph!’, you began wriggling in place and trying to turn over yet again, his nonchalant replies and behavior rattling you to the point of utter stubbornness. “but i wanna hold you sometimes too..” you sulked and pouted at him, hoping he’d take pity and give in.

“baby.. please..” riki mumbled against your neck. “just give up and let me hold you..” he pulled you impossibly closer, his chest now completely pressed up against your back. you could feel his heartbeat against you— along with that damn growing grin against your skin. “we both know i’m stronger than you anyways..”

you gasped, almost offended by his statement. “not true! i’m just as strong, if not stronger!” you defended, your words a clear lie even to an idiot.

“it makes me feel small when you spoon me, i wanna be the one holding you for once, y’know..” you continued in a dramatically mellow voice, before he could get back at you for your obvious lie earlier.

another smirk formed on his lips, your tantrum continuing to show your defeat. “don’t care.” riki’s fingers trailed over your hip, occasionally stopping just to caress the curved skin. “besides.. i'm supposed to be the one protecting you..”

“no fair, i can protect you too.. i got my guns.” you asserted, flexing your non-existent biceps and throwing nearly laughable punches in the air as a display of your strength.

“i know you can.. my strong baby,” he teasingly mumbled, the smirk evident in his voice. “but i think i can protect you better..” he nuzzled his face against your head, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. “i'm stronger and there’s no changing that.. now go to sleep.. please.. i don't wanna listen to you complain anymore..” he continued, bringing the hand not on your hip to stroke your hair, knowing it always lulled you to sleep. a few seconds went by, and you were as silent and still as a rock.

"baby?" riki frowned at your sudden lack of irritating (and endearing) him, and peaked over your shoulder. he was met with the sight of you fast asleep.

he smiled like an idiot and shook his head fondly, admiring your rarely peaceful form for a good few minutes before giving into exhaustion himself, holding you tight in his arms all night long.

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azulpitlane · 1 year ago

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british slang I ln4

pairing: lando norris x american!reader summary: pranking lando is the only way he can finally get off his phone notes: hi🧍‍♀️i accidentally disappeared but this semester hit me harder than i expected and im honestly out of ideas so idk what this is masterlist

“Babe what does leng mean?”

“Leng? Why are you asking?” Lando responded confusingly while he scrolled through his phone.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you watch him keep his gaze on his screen. It was a bad habit that you quickly picked up on early on your relationship, but now that you were finally living with Lando you were hoping he would spend less time on his phone considering your time together was limited with his constant traveling.

There had been few times you had even caught him messaging his friends, some who were women, while he was suppose to be spending time with you. Though you weren't a very jealous person and trusted Lando more than anything, it didn't sit right with you that he was messaging other girls during your time together. You had brought it up to him a few times where he promised to put it down and spend more time with you. Little liar.

“Some british guy at the gym called me leng this morning.” you replied trying to sound nonchalant.

“What?” Lando finally tore his gaze away from the screen, confusion etched on his face. You fought the urge to smirk as you stared at him acting clueless. “And what did you say?”

“I asked him what that meant and he just laughed and then said I had a nice ‘bunda’?” you revealed, trying your best to keep a straight face.

Lando's brows furrowed in bewilderment. "Are you serious?"

“Yeah, but I figured out what bunda means!” you said excitedly.

“And what does it mean?” Lando asked, now fully engaged in the conversation as he sat fully sat up from his laid back position.

“Accent!” you declared triumphantly.

“Baby, what?” he responded, confusion quickly turned to exasperation. “Why would you think it means accent?”

“Because afterwards he said im ‘so american’ so when he said I had a nice bunda he was referring to my accent.”

Lando pinched the skin between his eyebrows and held back a groan, “Y/n, no. Leng means attractive and bunda means butt. That guy was flirting with you.”

"Oh," you muttered, "then I probably shouldn't have exchanged numbers with him, right?"

"YOUR NUMBER? WHY WOULD YOU-" Lando's voice rose in disbelief, his eyes widening in shock.

"I thought he was just being friendly! I wanted a new gym buddy, and he said he bet he could improve my stamina so I think he wants to give me some workout tips," you explained, barely able to contain your laughter.

"HE SAID WHAT? NO, WHO IS THIS GUY?" Lando's frustration was clear now, his protective instincts kicking in.

"Well, his name was-" Before you could finish, Lando cut you off.

"You know what? You're not going to that gym alone anymore," he declared firmly. You almost let out a scoff feeling as your small prank failed as you watch him pick up his phone again and get back to scrolling as he laid back down on your bed.

You laid down next to him and pretended to be engrossed in your phone, stifling your giggles as you exchanged messages with your friend about your current situation. You ultimately decided to keep the prank going and you could sense his gaze on you, his curiosity evident in the subtle glances he casted your way.

"That guy- you deleted his number, right?" he asked as he looked at you.

"Hm? you feigned innocence, tilting your head slightly to peer at him through the corner of your eye.

"Yeah, the gym guy. You deleted his number?" he pressed, a hint of urgency in his tone.

"Oh, him," you replied nonchalantly, tapping away at your phone with deliberate slowness. "yeah."

He looked at you suspiciously as he fully turned to look at you, "So who are you texting?"

You maintained your facade of innocence, keeping your gaze fixed on your phone screen almost as payback. "Just a friend," you replied casually, your fingers moving across the screen as you kept texting your friend.

Lando's suspicion only seemed to grow as he observed your behavior. "Just a friend, huh?" he echoed, his tone laced with skepticism. "What are you guys talking about?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to be engrossed in your conversation. "Oh you know, just some fitness tips," you quipped, your voice tinged with amusement.

He gasped loudly and reached for your phone, but you quickly pulled back just in time. "Y/n Y/l/n do not tell me you are even entertaining this guy right now while you lay right next to me."

"Well it's a hobby of yours that I decided to pick up." you replied keeping your phone out of reach.

"I do not do that!"

You raised your eyebrows then casted a glance at his phone that was still on, sitting on his lap. He followed your gaze and scrunched his nose lightly, "Okay maybe I do it sometimes."

You gave him a pointed look and he blinked slowly, "See, now you know how it feels trying to talk to someone who's too busy on their phone." you replied.

Lando's expression softened "Okay, okay, I know it's a problem, but this time I swear I won't do it again." he promised earnestly, his gaze pleading for forgiveness.

You tilted your head and he almost pouted at your lack of response, "I swear it on everything, I swear it on racing! If I do it again, I shall never race again." he declared with a serious face while crossing his heart.

You giggled slightly at his dramatics, 'Alright, alright," you relented, "I'll hold you to it drama queen."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and playfully tackled you back into a laying position. Hovering over you, he pressed gentle kisses all over your face. "Huh, you are better than my phone," he murmured teasingly, his lips brushing against yours.

You grinned up at him and pulled him closer, savoring the closeness and intimacy of the moment. Before you could deepen the kiss, he pulled back and said, "Come on, let's make up for some lost time, we could go down to that new mini golf place."

You pulled him back down and replied, "Or we could stay here and make up for the lack of morning sex today."

His eyes widened slightly at your bluntness, "Yes-yeah-we could- we could do that."

You giggled at his slightly flushed face and connected your lips once again.

"Wait! You still haven't deleted that guy's number." he exclaimed as he pulled back from you.

"Ohhh well he was never real." you replied as you shrugged lightly.

Lando blinked in surprise at your revelation, confusion crossing his features. "What do you mean he wasn't real?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction. "I made him up to mess with you," you confessed, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

His expression shifted from confusion to amusement, and then to mock indignation. "You are such a muppet," he exclaimed, squeezing your sides.

"Yeah, yeah." you replied while playfully rolling your eyes. "Now keep kissing me Norris."

"Don't have to ask me twice baby." He grinned before leaning down and capturing your lips together.

more notes: yes i am aware the ending is awful but i wrote this during the suzuka gp and i was stressed enough with that. goodnight. (also just reached 800 followers WOOO thanks guys🥹)

taglist: @greantii @slaycheco @snoopybum @justcewvs @bbygirlqueen @thoughtonlyofyou @heyheyheyggg @sara-2s-world @aquangxl @cherryyfairy @charlsluvvr @darcycaravan @illicitverstappen @laurenhxnry @planetvenus111 @d3kstar @donttttalktome @brune77e @cwiphswmwasohmm @lou-larcher5 @harryspenguin3 @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @jetblackvheart @swagbirdmagazine @loves-characters @cheeseoflies @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @princessbetsy123-blog

@taytaythirteen @thirstydach @mxmtewnz @lucasfilms77 @naturallyspontaneous @captain-mega-awesome @jinx53 @marteinthecoolway @lan4cha16 @anedpev @havaneselover08 @paigeworlds @notturlover @justaninchedent @bre99 @living-in-rainbows @lauralarsen @lolwhateverlol @chriss-club @i-wish-this-was-mekristina2709 @harrystylesworld-tpwk @bborra @lauralarsen @ghostisstuff @robotlama19 @tastebaldwin @cherryyfairy @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @thebookbakery @styl1shl1v @sarah-thatstings-ann @astroniii

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 #f1 fanfic #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #lando norris imagines #lando fluff #lando x reader

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oldermenfucker · 2 months ago

Note

i saw your robby post. i dont have much ideas about an au or anything but i do have a smutty idea thats been eating away at me for so long and i havent had the time to write it out. so im gifting it to you (if you may be interested!)

HE PUTS HIS COCK IN BUT HE DOESNT MOVE AT ALL (even if youre begging) AND WANTS TO GET YOU OFF ON HIS COCK BEFORE HE FUCKS YOU???? you also get so overwhelmed by the way hes stretching you out that you cant control your eyes going cloudy and some salty tears falling down your flush face. but his hands are soothing and cooing at you and just like major praise kink yk? anyways yeah okay love you byyeee (gets shy now) whejsjke xoxo

His Good Girl | M. Robby

summary: the request on the top🤭

warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, cockwarming, Robby has a fat cock it’s canon, praise kink HEAVY HEAVY PRAISE KINK!!, lots of cooing, reader calls him sir & doctor a few times, THE GLASSES STAY ON, heavy breeding, just Robby using that filthy mouth teheee

word count: 2.4k+

an: We shall have a spring wedding my love YOU GENIUS YOU ABSOLUTE GOD PLEASE OMG THIS IS SO FUCKING DELICIOUSSSSSSS!!!!! please don’t get shy I love this thank you THANK YOU I LOBE YOU TOO BABE!!!! Aaaaaaaaaaaa please send more thots and ideas I’m always BEGGING to brain storm with others about this delicious man😩

When you arrive home from work, you are exhausted. It’s near nine p.m., your feet ache, you are hungry, and you want nothing more than to jump into your boyfriend’s arms without a care in the world.

You fiddle with the keys in your hand, slowly opening the door in case Robby is sleeping, but when you hear the low sound of a song playing through the house, you relax and let the warmth welcome you.

“Hi,” you announce your arrival, dropping the keys on the shelf on top of his wallet, kicking off your shoes, and dropping your bag next to his backpack before you walk towards the kitchen.

“Hey, beautiful,” he replies, watching as you grab a glass of water from the kitchen while he leans back on the couch with several documents on the coffee table in front of him. “How was your day?”

You try to act nonchalant, you really do, but with the way his nose looks under those thick black reading glasses makes you swallow the drool that gathers in your mouth, you know you are anything but unbothered.

He narrows his eyes at you, watching curiously as you purse your lips, running your tongue against your cheek while you stare at his face, and it finally dawns on him what got you in such a state.

“Don’t tell me it’s the glasses again,” he pushes the matter, totally enjoying how you squeeze your thighs together when he raises his eyebrows at you. But it is the glasses, again. They are the bane of your existence, and you can’t go a day without thinking about them, replaying the memories you two have made with them on his face.

He chuckles, his chest rumbling with both affection and desire, his bambi eyes darkening with each second that you look at him with your mouth agape, as if you are begging him to do something about it silently.

“Come here,” he pats his lap, dropping the pen he was holding on the stock of papers as he repositions himself, spreading his long legs while he waits for you to come. His eyes drag over your body, watching you closely as he stretches, giving you a peek of his soft skin and that happy trail that leads to what you need the most.

He throws his head back and laughs when he watches you bite your lip at the sight, making your way between his legs before he reaches out and grabs your hips, squeezing the flesh in his large palms.

“One inch of skin is enough to make you wet, huh?” He asks, his voice teasing and cocky, because he knows what effect he has on you.

“How do you know I’m wet already?” You tilt your head, trying and failing to mask that in fact you are dripping, “But no… your skin is enough to get me going, Doctor Robinavitch.”

“You know exactly what to say, don’t you?” He grins again, pushing your pants down along with your panties, nodding at your shirt so you can strip yourself. Robby leans down, pressing open-mouth kisses along your stomach, nibbling on the skin as he helps you step out of your pants, “Come on, honey.”

You pull the fabric of your shirt off, grinning at Robby, who makes a sound of ‘woohoo’ in a very hushed and raspy tone when his eyes fall on your covered breasts before you mount him and sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

He rest his head on the back of the couch, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you closer, smashing his lips into yours. You moan into the kiss, the taste of his granola bar evident on his tongue as he pushes the muscle into your mouth, exploring you eagerly.

You can feel his hard length against your thigh, and you can most certainly shape the outline of how huge he is even through his sweatpants. Rolling your hips down, you elicit a deep groan from him, breaking the kiss to pull on his sweatpants.

“You can’t look this good and expect me not to pounce on you,” you whisper, lips hovering over his as he raises his hips enough to push the pants down, sighing in relief when the chill air of the room hits his heated cock.

Your mouth waters at the sight of Robby’s thick member resting heavily against his thigh, already hard and ready to burst. You look back at him, finding him blushing and rubbing the back of his head as he smiles sheepishly at you.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier—“ you gasp when his hands move to the globes of your ass, squeezing them in his tight grip.

“Be a good girl and don’t keep me waiting,” he pecks your lips, holding you up when you reach between your bodies to grab him by the base, lining up the fat tip with your soaked entrance. “That’s it, baby. Look at me when you sit on it— there you go…”

You bite your lip as you hold eye contact, lowering yourself on his thick cock gently, his fingers digging harsher into your asscheeks the more you take him in.

You really try to maintain eye contact, but the feeling of him splitting you open when you take him fully inside your cunt makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. He is nestled so deep inside your gummy walls that it makes your head spin, leaving you breathless and needy for more.

You rest your hands on his shoulder, fixing your knees next to his thighs but with each little movement, his cock reaches deeper inside you, making your lips part in quiet gasps and whimpers.

Robby stops you before you have the chance to move more. He grabs your hips, keeping you seated down on him.

“Not yet, baby,” he groans when you clench around him in his deep voice, one hand moving up and down your back while the other grabs your jaw to move your face towards him, looking up at your darkened eyes.

“Why?” You breathe out, pouting slightly when he only smiles and presses your cheek together, pushing your lips out more, “Please, I wanna ride you–“

“No, no, honey,” he tutts when you whine, grinding your hips down to feel him more, but his hands squeeze you hard enough to warn you, “You can’t do that now.”

“But why?” You whine again, and he pulls you down on him, chest to chest with your belly rubbing against the soft podge of his stomach, “I thought about doing it all day, Robby…”

“Very tempting, beautiful girl,” he threads his fingers through your hair, holding your face to the crook of his neck as he whispers in your ear, “But I wanna make you come on my cock before I fuck you.”

You literally vibrate with excitement when he says it, knowing full well what an entertaining night you are going to have, but a bit of pushing never hurts you, right?

“But I really wanna ride you, please—“

“Ah uh,” he shakes his head, kissing your chin as his free hand begins to rub circles on your thigh, “Be a good girl for me, yeah? Keep me warm and wet, sweetheart. I had a long shift, I deserve a sweet treat, don’t I?”

You nod helplessly, burying your face in his neck when he bends forward a little, somehow his cock managing to push even deeper inside you with such a slow movement.

“So big,” you say dreamily, wrapping your arms around his head, nuzzling your face against his like a milk-drunk cat, “Feels so good, Michael.”

“Yeah? Imagine how much better it would feel if you come like this,” he presses his cheek back into yours, enjoying your warmth as your walls quiver around his cock in delight, “Oh, sweetest girl,” he pulls your head back a little by his fingers in your hair so he can look at you, “You’re already on edge, I can feel you shaking.”

You can’t utter a word; your brain is getting foggy with lust, senses overwhelmed with his scent, you can’t even think about anything but Michael and his deliciously big cock filling you up completely.

“Look at you,” he coos, his glasses moving on the bridge of his nose as he looks where you are connected, his thumb rubbing mindless shapes on your navel as it travels down closer to where it needs more attention, “Taking me so good, honey. I wanna stay inside you forever.”

Your walls spasm around his girth so beautifully that it draws a deep groan out of his chest, his fingers tightening on your body. He helps you straighten your back, his breathing now heavier as he takes in the state of your face; all flustered, pouty, and needy. You look fucked out already and he hasn’t even touched your cunt yet.

“Aren’t you the prettiest girl in the world?” he groans as you shift to hold yourself up by your hands on his shoulders. He reaches behind you, unclasping your bra with ease before he pushes the straps down, leaning up to kiss the path they take to fall from your shoulders.

It is torture, you are sure. Because with each subtle movement, a wave of pleasure shoots into your core, making it much harder for you to keep your composure and not push him against the couch and ride him till dawn.

“You’re killing me, Michael—“ you gasp as he sucks a red mark on top of your breast, finally getting rid of your bra. He grins and keeps his mouth attached to your skin, gently biting the curve of your breast before he moves to your nipple, pulling it into his mouth as he starts swirling his tongue around the tightened bud.

You throw your head back; the pleasure slowly builds inside you with his tongue lapping at your flesh and his throbbing cock inside your tight and very welcoming pussy.

Moaning out his name, you feel his thumb finally making its way downward, rubbing just above your buzzing clit softly — he must be torturing you. There is no other explanation for how much he is taking his time exploring your body as if he hasn’t done it a million times before.

“Best fucking pussy, baby,” he lets go of your nipple with a lewd sound of ‘pope’ before he rests his bearded chin on your chest, looking at you with a glint in his eyes that you can see the adoration in, “Keeping me all warm, you have to see yourself really. All stretched out and pretty for me.”

“Please, sir—“

“Oh, baby,” he leans back, keeping you straight with his hand playing with your nipple, gently tugging at it and watching you moan in delight, hips bucking to get some friction desperately but he stops you by his long fingers grabbing your hip, “Enjoy this, baby, then I’ll fuck you until I have to get ready for my next shift, yeah? A pretty girl like you deserves to be taken care of for hours, don’t you think?”

You nod immediately, bringing his hand that is dangerously close to your clit up to your mouth, wrapping your lips around his thumb as you wet it for him, coating it in spit before you guide it back to where it was.

“Good girl.”

You smile shyly, looking at him from beneath your lashes. He looks so good with his glasses on, and you can see his eyes much better this way, those soppy brown orbs that are hooded with pleasure. His hair is messy, his beard even worse but this cozy look he has got is enough to make your pussy pulse in need.

“Look at you, baby,” he coos again, pressing down on your clit with his thumb, rubbing fast circles just on the right place that makes your legs shake around his thighs, “You’re such a good girl for listening to me. Maybe I should tie you up one day and only speak dirty to you until you come? What do you say?”

You can only nod, your mouth opening in a silent scream as the knot in your lower stomach tightens with each circle he draws over the bundle of nerves.

Robby watches you closely as you fall over the edge of your peak; you barely hold yourself up by your hands on his belly, back arching as your cunt clenches around him, wetness dripping from where you are connected to each other.

“Yes, yes,” he moans as well, and you feel his stomach tightening, “hmm, you gonna make me come too, baby. Fuck, you’re so beautiful—“

He is cut off by you crashing your lips into his, salty tears dripping down your eyes as your orgasm drags out as he keeps his finger attached to your puffy clit, making sure you gush around him until there is nothing to give.

You feel him twitching inside you, and in a second, you pull back to stare into his eyes through the glasses as the warmth of your cunt envelopes his senses completely.

Robby comes with a groan, filling you up to the hilt with his seed, his hands flying to your waist to keep your pelvis pressed into his. He holds onto you tightly, throwing his head back as he pumps you full, and you take advantage of the sight of his Adam’s apple before you lean in and pull the skin of his throat into your mouth.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he laughs breathlessly, pulling you up from his neck by a hand behind your head, looking at your tear-streaked face before he kisses down the dried path, “You did so good, honey.”

“That was… something,” you drop down on top of him completely, letting him hold you close in his embrace, “Were you serious about it?”

“About what? Fucking you till sunrise or tying you up?” He smirks, his eyes glimmering devilishly, his hands caressing your spine slowly.

“Both,” you stroke his chest over his shirt, “Cause those were such huge goals for an old man like you.”

“This old man made you come so hard you started crying,” he pinches your side, kissing your forehead, “Behave now, you were such a good girl just a second ago.”

“I’m always a good girl,” your smirk matching his, “But you must keep the glasses on. Nonnegotiable.”

“You got a deal.”

#the pitt #dr robby #dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch #dr robby smut #dr robby x you #michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavich x reader #robby x reader #the pitt smut #the pitt x reader

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