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afterglowsainz · 1 year ago

Note

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham one shot #real madrid x reader #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x y/n #football #football one shot #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jb5 #jb10 #jude bellingham gif

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odinsblog · 1 year ago

Text

“I first started noticing the journalists dying on Instagram. I'm a journalist, I'm Arab, and I've reported on war. A big part of my community is other Arab journalists who do the same thing.

And when someone dies, news travels fast. Recently, I pulled up the list that the Committee to Protect Journalists has been keeping and looked at it for the first time. There are 95 journalists and media workers on it as of today.

Almost everyone on it is Palestinian. Scrolling through, I started to get angry. These were the people carrying the burden of documenting this whole war.

Israel is not allowing foreign journalists into Gaza, except on rare occasions with military escorts. These people's names are being buried in a giant list that keeps growing. What I want to do is lift some of them off the list for a moment and give you a glimpse of who they were and the work they made.

I'll start with Sadi Mansour. Sadi was the director of Al-Quds News Network, and he posted a 22-second video on November 18. That was a report from the war, but it also gave me a picture into his marriage.

Sadi's wearing his press vest and looks exhausted. He's explaining that cell service and the Internet keep getting cut off, and it's often impossible to text or call anyone, including his wife. So they've resorted to using handwritten letters to communicate while he's out reporting, sending them back and forth with neighbors or colleagues.

He ends the video with a picture of one of these letters from his wife. In it, she writes,

‘Me and the kids stayed up waiting for you until the morning, and you didn't come home. We were really sad.

I kept telling the kids, Look, he's coming. But you didn't show up. May God forgive you.

Come home tomorrow and eat with us. Do you want me to make you kebab or maybe kapse? Bring your friends with you, it's okay.

And give Azeez the battery to charge. What do you think about me sending you handwritten letters with messenger pigeons from now on? Ha ha ha.

I'm just kidding. I want to curse at you, but we're living in a war. Too bad.

Okay, I love you. Bye.’

A few hours after he shared that letter, Sadie and his co-worker Hassouna Saleem were at Sadie's home, when they were killed by an Israeli air strike that hit his house.

His wife and kids, who weren't there, survived.

Gaza is tiny, and the journalist community is really close. Reading the list, you can see all the connections between people. Like with Brahim Lafi.

Brahim was a photojournalist, one of the first journalists to die. He was killed while reporting on October 7. He was just 21, still new to journalism.

On his Instagram, you can see that in his posts just a few years ago, he was still practicing his photography, taking pictures of coffee cups and flowers. Then he started doing beautiful portraits and action shots. You can really feel him starting to become a journalist.

Clicking around on Instagram, I found a tribute post about Brahim from his co-worker Rushdie Sarraj. In this photo, Brahim staring intently at the back of a camera, his face lit up by the light from the viewfinder. He looks so young.

The caption reads, My assistant is gone. Brahim is gone. Rushdie himself was a beloved journalist and filmmaker.

And I know that because he's also on the list. He was killed just two weeks after Brahim. I read the tribute post to him too.

I saw this over and over again. Journalists posting tributes, who were then killed themselves soon after. And a tribute goes up for them.

And then the pattern continues.

Thank you.

Something else I saw over and over on the list, journalists later in the war who had become aware that they could be making their last reports. They'd say it at the beginning of their videos. And those were the hardest to watch, especially when it was true.

One video like that was posted by Ayat Hadduro. Ayat was a freelance journalist and video blogger. Her videos before the war covered a wide range from what I can tell, interviews about women in politics.

She even appeared in a commercial for ketchup-flavored chips. She clearly liked being in front of the camera. Once the war started, Ayat's pivoted to covering bombings and food shortages.

On November 20, she posted a video report from her home. You can hear the airstrikes hitting very close to where she is. It's scary.

‘This is likely my last video. Today, the occupation forces dropped phosphorus bombs on Beit Lahya area and frightening sound bombs. They dropped letters from the sky, ordering everyone to evacuate.

Everyone ran into the streets in the craziest way. No one knows where to go.

But everyone else has evacuated. They don't know where they're going. The situation is so scary.

What's happening is so tough, and may God have mercy on us.’

She was killed later that day.

Targeting journalists, in case you didn't know, is a war crime. So far, the Committee to Protect Journalists has found that three of the journalists on the list were explicitly targeted by the IDF, the Israeli military. Investigations by the Washington Post and Reuters, Human Rights Watch and the United Nations have also raised serious questions in these three cases.

And the Committee to Protect Journalists is investigating 10 other killings. When we reached out to the IDF for comments, they said, quote, the IDF has never, and will never, deliberately target journalists. That's the answer they always give in these situations.

Meanwhile, dozens of seasoned reporters have fled Gaza. Journalists who worked for Al Jazeera, the BBC, the New York Times, the Washington Post, Reuters, Agence France-Presse. So many media offices were demolished in Israeli airstrikes that the Committee to Protect Journalists stopped counting.

It's not just individual lives that have been destroyed. It's an entire infrastructure.

Thank you.

The name on the list that was hardest for me to look at was Issam Abdullah, because I'd crossed paths with him once. Issam was a Lebanese journalist, a video journalist for Reuters for many, many years. He had just won an award for coverage of Ukraine.

I'm Lebanese and still report there sometimes, and I'd worked with Issam a couple of summers ago. He helped me film a sort of random story in Beirut. I was interviewing this entrepreneur who had started a sperm freezing company after an accident where he spilled a tray of hot coffee on his private area, burning himself.

I know, ridiculous. It was a really silly shoot. Right after we said cut and started to rap, Issam started this whole bit about being in his late 30s, reconsidering his own sperm quality and everything he now realized he was doing to hurt it, and no one could stop laughing.

It was a really good day that felt good to remember and to remember him that way. Issam was killed by the IDF on October 13. His death was one of the three that the Committee to Protect Journalists has identified as a targeted killing.

He was fired upon by an Israeli tank while standing in an empty field on the Lebanon-Israel border with a small group of other journalists. Everyone was wearing press vests with cameras out. They were covering the Hezbollah part of this war.

A few other journalists were injured in the attack, which was captured on video. The IDF says they were responding to firing from Hezbollah, not targeting the journalists. But multiple investigations, including by Reuters, the United Nations, Amnesty International and the AFP, found no evidence of any firing from the location of the journalists before the IDF shot at them.

The journalists in the group and video footage confirmed that there was no military activity near them. I had only met Issam once, barely knew him, but it affected me so much when he died. I know that he understood the risks of his job, but somehow it still felt so random and unfair that he would be struck down like that, following the rules, wearing his press vest and helmet, and a pack of reporters on a sunny day in an open field.

I find myself thinking about him all the time. His last Instagram post was commemorating another journalist, this iconic reporter Shereen Abou Aql who had been killed by the IDF. When I first saw that post in October, I thought how ironic because a week later, Isam also was killed by the IDF.

But then, after spending time reading the list, I realized how common this had become. I still haven't finished going through the list and looking up the people on it. I keep finding things that stick with me, like the funny way this one radio host would cut off a caller who was rambling on for too long.

A tweet from reporter Al-Abdallah that quoted Sylvia Plath. It read, What ceremony of wars can patch the havoc? I'm going to keep going down the list, even though this story is over now.

Just for myself. My own way of bearing witness. Which is, in the end, all that these journalists were trying to do.”

—DANA BALLOUT, The 95. Dana sifts through a very long list—the list of journalists killed in the Israel-Hamas war, and comes back with five small fragments of the lives of the people on it. Dana is a Lebanese-American, Emmy-nominated documentary producer.

#politics #dana ballout #the 95 #palestine #israel #war crimes #gaza #committee to protect journalists #🇵🇸#brahim lafi #shereen abou aql #issam abdullah #ayat hadduro #rushdie sarraj #hassouna saleem #sadi mansour

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grandprixprincess · 8 months ago

Text

hermana part 3 || ln4

lando norris x fem!reader smau + written

part 1 // part 2

warnings: some language

a/n: thanks for all the love for this series :) it's so fun to write! as always, requests are open for smau and text fics <3 also, cherry part 2 will be up next week! read part 1 here :) oh and happy race week!!! i'll be at cota this weekend, so excited!

f1gossip posted

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f1gossip 🚨 Lando Norris seen leaving his Monaco apartment this evening!

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user1 on his way to pick up y/n perhaps? 🤞

user2 the jolly is such a VIBEEEE

user3 oh our man is dressed nice tonight!!! it's giving date night!!!

user4 i think you're right omg??? user5 y/n just posted a story all dressed up 👀

user4 lando is in his lover boy era 😭💗

yourusername posted a story

caption: 🧡🧡🧡

story replies:

yourbestfriend 😍

carlossainz55 are the orange hearts really necessary? 🙄

yourusername yes 🙄

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror before checking the time again. 5:48 pm. Lando would be here soon to pick you up.

Just as you prepared to make your way downstairs, you heard the front door to Carlos' apartment open. You furrowed your brow, wondering why he or Rebecca would be back at this time. They had left earlier in the day and said they would be out until after dinner.

"Y/N?" Carlos' voice rang out.

You grabbed a pair of dainty gold earrings as you walked out of guest bedroom, inserting them in your ear as you walked to where you heard Carlos' voice come from. "Yeah?"

Carlos was alone, carrying a few bags in, his back turned to you. "Good, you're still here. Listen, I just wanted to talk to you real quick before you-" He suddenly turned around mid sentence, "What are you wearing?"

You rolled your eyes. "Don't start, Carlitos. I'm about to leave."

Carlos scoffed. "Uh, no you're not."

You narrowed your eyes at him, "Carlos, stop." Now was not the time for Carlos to go into big brother protection mode. "There's nothing wrong or scandalous about what I'm wearing."

Your phone buzzed. You looked down, seeing Lando's name across your screen, and couldn't help the smile that made its way to your face.

I'm 5 minutes away. See you soon, beautiful.

You were so caught up in reading Lando's text, a blush painting your cheeks a soft pink, that you didn't notice Carlos smirking slightly at you. He liked seeing you happy and smitten like this; it warmed his heart. "You're blushing."

Carlos' words broke you from your daze. "Huh?"

Carlos chuckled lightly. "I said you're blushing." He took a step towards you, reaching his arm out to give you a quick hug. "You look beautiful, hermana. Have fun, yeah?"

You smiled brightly, happy to see Carlos following through with being supportive of you and Lando. "Thanks, we will. I'm going to head down. I'll see you later."

Carlos suddenly gripped your arm, holding you steady. "You are...coming back home tonight, right?"

You blushed, hating every second of this conversation, and gave him a sheepish grin. "Yes, mano. I promise."

"Good. No funny business tonight." You rolled your eyes at his words. "Hey, I mean it, manita. If he's serious, he'll wait."

You obviously didn't tell Carlos the intimate details of you and Lando on the yacht from the previous day. You felt a blush creep on your face again just thinking about it. Giving Carlos' arm a reassuring squeeze, you said, "Not that it's any of your business, but we want to wait. I want Lando to properly wine and dine me first."

"Please don't ever say the words 'Lando' and 'wine and dine me' together in a sentence ever again."

You laughed. "Okay, I need to go. He's almost here." You reached up, giving Carlos another reassuring hug. "Love you!"

"Love you. Keep your phone on. If I text you, you better answer."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Fine." You grabbed your purse, making your way to the door. "Bye!"

f1gossip posted

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f1gossip 🚨 Lando and Y/N spotted out in Monaco tonight! The pair were reportedly seen cruising around town before heading to a restaurant.

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user1 lando took her for a drive to watch the sunset 😭😍

user3 literally crying 😭😭😭

user2 i love my emotional support rich couple

user4 george in the likes 💀 he wants to know the tea just like us

user5 carlos at home seeing this like 🤨

user1 nah I know deep down he's a lany/n shipper

user6 they looks so cute together 😭🧡

"Red or white?"

You and Lando were looking over the wine list. The restaurant Lando brought you to was cozy and romantic; you both wore goofy grins as you sat across from each other.

Suddenly you heard your phone buzzing from inside your bag. You and Lando immediately made eye contact, a smirk growing on his face. You had told him in the car what Carlos had said about answering him if he texted you.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, his gaze causing you to throw him a sheepish smile. "Stop looking at me like that!"

He had a full on grin now. "What, am I not allowed to look at my beautiful date?"

He had you blushing now. "Yes, you can look, but don't make fun of me because I have a psycho brother."

Lando gave you another teasing smirk, looking down at the wine list again before saying, "You better answer him. I don't want to have to worry about him bursting in here and tackling me or something."

You giggled, reaching into your bag and grabbing your phone. You were confused and surprised when you saw who had texted you.

Lando grabbed your hand as you made your way upstairs to meet up with Charles and Alexandra. His hand in yours felt so natural, like two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly. You smiled down at your joined hands before pulling out your phone to take a quick photo.

After taking the picture, you look up to see Lando staring at you, almost awestruck. You quirked your brow and smiled slightly, asking, "What?"

Lando just shook his head, rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand affectionately. "Nothing, just wondering how I got so lucky to have such a beautiful date tonight."

You blushed for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. "I feel pretty lucky too. I'm here with my dream man." You squeeze his hand.

The two of you have made it to the rooftop now, and do a once over of the space, looking for your friends. Lando leads you two towards the bar in the meantime.

"Dream man, huh?" Lando let go of your hand suddenly, his hand finding its way to your hip, pulling you in close, whispering in your ear, "You're literally the object of all my fantasies and desires." Lando keeps his hand on your hip, using his thumb to rub slow, small circles into your side.

You feel hot suddenly, and you know it's probably another blush on your face. Words lose you; you just focus on Lando's hand on you as stare up at him, eyes dilated.

"It's so fucking cute when you blush like that," Lando whispers in your ear again, "You're my dream girl."

Just as you were about to respond, you hear a voice behind you say, "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

You turn around, Lando's hand still on your hip, to see Charles and Alexandra, both with coy smiles on their faces. You and Lando wear sheepish smiles as you wave to your friends.

Charles spoke up again. "Okay, first round is on me. Then you two can explain what's going on."

Lando laughed, letting go of your hip to join Charles to bring the drinks back. "Vodka cran?" he asked you, hand lingering with yours as he walked away.

He still remembers your drink of choice. You smiled, nodding. "Yes, please."

Once the boys were gone, Alex looked at you, still with that coy smile on her face. "Alright, spill. When did this happen?"

"After Singapore." You had another goofy smile on your face, you were sure of it. "We hadn't seen each other in a while, but after the race he texted me asking to see me again. Then he offered to pick me up from the airport, and yesterday we spent the day together..."

"Oh trust me, I saw the photos." Alex said teasingly.

You blushed again. "He told me yesterday that he tried to ask me out years ago, but Carlos stopped him."

Alex rolled her eyes. "I know he means well, but that doesn't surprise me at all."

You nod. "The past is the past. I've already spoken to Carlos about it and we've cleared the air."

"That's good." Alex reached over, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze. "You two looked so smitten with each other during dinner. I'm happy for you."

You saw Lando and Charles walking back towards you two, drinks in hand. You locked eyes with Lando, who was mid-conversation with Charles, and he flashed you a handsome grin.

Dream man.

yourusername posted a close friends story

story replies:

yourbestfriend screaming crying throwing up

iamrebeccad carlos saw this and threw his phone across the floor

f1gossip posted

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f1gossip 🚨 Lando Norris and Y/N Y/L/N spotted out at a bar in Monaco tonight!

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user1 the way lando is looking at her 😭 when will it be my turn

user2 lany/n army we are getting FED

user3 and they were seen hanging with charles and alex!! 🥰

user4 why them and not carlos and rebecca?? user3 probably because carlos would kill lando on sight if he saw lando touching y/n like that irl user3 also I think charles and alex just happened to be there too coincidentally

user5 idk who i'm more jealous of: lando or y/n 😭

It was nearly midnight when Lando pulled up outside Carlos' apartment building. You didn't want the night to end. Lando's hand was latched with yours in your lap.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, just trying to savor the moment. "If you asked me to sit out here with you all night, I would," you admitted.

Lando chuckled. "As tempting as that is, these seats aren't exactly the most comfortable." He began rubbing soft circles on your hand with his thumb. "I had a great time tonight."

Your heart fluttered at his words. "So did I." You laid your free hand on his forearm, just wanting to savor as much of his touch as possible. "Will I get to see you again before I leave?"

Lando had a teasing glint in his eye as he said, "That eager to see me again, huh?" Little shit. He shifted in his seat, turning towards you, inching closer.

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Hey, that's my line." You inched closer to him, waiting for what was to come. "Answer the question."

Your faces were centimeters apart. "I've been spoiled the past few days. I want to see you every day."

"Come see me tomorrow."

Lando sighed. "Are you sure? I don't want to take you away from spending time with Carlos."

You smiled at his thoughtfulness. "He's going golfing tomorrow," you said, "So I'll be alone until he gets back." You hesitated for a moment, before adding, "I'm making dinner tomorrow. You should come."

Lando quirked his brow. "Come to dinner...with you and Carlos?"

You narrowed your eyes, flashing him a grin. "It's not like the three of us haven't had dinner together before."

"Yeah, but it's different now."

"You do know you'll have to face him eventually, right?"

If it was possible, Lando leaned even closer. "Yeah, I know." He reached his free hand up, caressing your face. "I'll be there."

Lando smiled at the way your face lit up with joy. "You will?" When he nodded, you finally leaned in and closed the gap between you two, connecting his lips with yours.

It felt blissful. You were sure you could kiss Lando for the rest of your life and never get enough. As his lips moved against yours, you released your hand from his, snaking both hands around his neck.

You smirked against his lips when your hands found themselves in his curls again.

"Careful, baby," Lando cooed against your lips. "I'm already fighting the urge to ask you to come home with me."

You giggled, pulling his face back towards yours, desperate for his lips on yours again.

Suddenly, you felt your phone buzz in your purse. The two of you broke apart, smirks on your faces. You both knew who it was.

Stop sucking faces and come inside already. It's late.

"He's watching us," you said, showing the text you received from Carlos. "I better go." You sighed, a wave of sadness taking over you at the realization that the night really was ending.

"Can I walk you up?"

Your eyes widened. "Uh, yeah, of course." Lando quicky got out of the car, walking over to your side and holding out his hand. "Are you sure?"

He flashed a genuine smile. "I'm going to have to face him eventually, right?" You look at his offered hand again before reaching out and grabbing it, lacing your fingers together. As you made your way inside and towards the elevator, he added, "Besides, it's not a real first date unless you do the classic goodnight kiss at the front door."

"You're a real charmer, huh?"

As you finally made your way to Carlos' front door, you stopped to dig for the key in your purse. You struggled to find it for a bit; suddenly, the door opened, revealing Carlos.

"Hey, mate." Lando said nervously, letting out an awkward laugh.

Carlos stared blankly at Lando for a moment, before saying, "Hey, cabrón." He stepped out into the hallway to join you both, eyes still on Lando. "Nice of you to walk her up."

"Of course, yeah, of course," Lando rambled, Carlos continuing to stare him down.

You decided to stop this before it escalated further. "You're making him nervous, Carlos. Stop it."

Carlos broke out into a grin, playfully slapping Lando's shoulder. "I was just messing with you, mate." He finally looked over at you before saying to Lando, "You should join us for dinner tomorrow."

You couldn't hide the surprise on your face if you tried. Looking over at Lando, he wore a similar expression on his face before saying, "Yeah, I would like that."

"You should join me for golf tomorrow too if you're not busy."

Now you were sure your eyes were going to pop out of their socket from shock. What was Carlos up to?

When both you and Lando were silent at the second invitation, Carlos added, "Listen, I don't want things to be weird between us because you guys are," he gestured his hand in the space between you two, "dating, or whatever."

You and Lando both laughed, feeling more at ease. You turned to Lando, nudging him with your elbow. "You should go. I'll sleep in and enjoy a day to myself."

With both you and Carlos' eyes on him, he nodded quickly. "Yeah, a round of golf sounds nice. I'm in."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow, mate." Carlos said, offering his hand out to Lando and giving him a bro hug. As he went inside and closed the door, he added, "Doors unlocked, manita."

As Carlos disappeared, Lando turned to you. "Are you sure?" Lando asked, searching your eyes for any doubt. When you nodded and flashed him an earnest smile, he nodded back. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" Lando said, reaching for your hand, caressing it softly. You nodded, leaning up to press one last kiss to his lips for the night; a goodnight kiss to end the most perfect night.

landonorris posted a story

caption: hanging with bae ❤️ @/carlossainz55

story replies:

yourusername LMAO

landonorris sorry you had to find out this way yourusername with my brother too 😔 landonorris carlando can't be broken

user1 y/n brought carlando back together and for that i'll forever be grateful

lando.jpg posted

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lando.jpg nice lil break

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user1 CARLANDOOOO

lnfour 📣 new jpg photo dump alert

user2 y/n on lando.jpg y/n on lando.jpg y/n on lando.jpg

user3 the soft launch is soft launching 😙🤌

user4 putting the carlando pic before y/n??? lando said that's still my man

yourusername mama a girl behind you

user1 LMAO 💀 user5 one thing about y/n? she's always going to roast carlos

carlossainz55 posted

liked by yourusername, iamrebeccad, yoursister, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and others

carlossainz55 Had a great few weeks off. Ready for Austin 🤠🇺🇸

tagged: iamrebeccad, yourusername

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user1 LFG TRIPLE HEADER TIME

user2 rebecca and y/n are the cutest

yourusername love you but love @/iamrebeccad more 💗

iamrebeccad 💗👯‍♀️ carlossainz55 wow 😐 carlossainz55 whatever we all know who you really love more 🧡 user1 OMG??? user4 the orange heart 😭 oh he is a lany/n shipper for sure

user3 manifesting a y/n appearance in the paddock in austin 🙏

scuderiaferrari Ready to be back on track 💪

user5 chili podium in austin 🕯🙏

yourusername posted

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yourusername Monaco memories ✨

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user1 not lando liking this under 1 minute of posting

user2 oh he's so down bad, he has those notifs on

landonorris First ♥︎ by author

user5 OH user2 oh ABSOLUTELY down bad user6 og lany/n shippers used to pray for times like these 😭

user3 pls come to austin queen 🙏😔

alexandrasaintmleux 💗☀️

yourusername btw carlos made me post that photo to make up for the last post 🙄

carlossainz55 👍 yourusername 🖕 user1 someone tell ferrari the girls are fighting again 🙄

user4 her not tagging anyone in this post so her and lando can keep soft launching 😂

user5 they're having fun with it and i love it

user6 lando once again behind the camera like 😍🤳

yourbestfriend the first pic 😍😍😍

landonorris i know right 😍 user4 OH user2 down bad on main 😨

It had been a week since you arrived in Monaco. Things with you and Lando were going better than ever, but a fear was beginning to creep in as it was nearing the time for you to head back home. Lando was about to head out on a triple header, and the championship battle between him and Max was at its peak. You contemplated asking Carlos to take you with him to Austin, but would Lando want you there?

"Lan?" You sat on the bed in the hotel room, waiting for Lando to finish getting ready to head out for media day at the circuit. Something had been weighing on your mind as you got ready.

"Yeah?" He grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "You ready?"

You nodded. "Yeah, just one thing..." you started, "I know we've been spotted and posted who knows how many times already, but this will be the first time we go out together, you know publicly, in front of the media." You fiddled with your hands as you contemplated your next sentence. "I just want to make sure you're ready for that."

"Are you ready for that?"

Without a second thought, you said, "Yeah, I don't want to hide. Soft launching is fun, but I think we lost the element of surprise already."

Lando chuckled before offering his hand for you to take. "I've been ready this whole time. Let's go do our hard launch then, baby."

f1gossip posted

liked by user1, user2, user3, and others

f1gossip 🚨 Lando and Y/N spotted entering the paddock together for media day at COTA!

view all comments

user1 the people's prince and princess

user2 hard launching at a gp is iconic

user4 taking selfies together with fans 😭 i love them sm

user3 will y/n be in the ferrari or mclaren garage this weekend???

user2 i thought for sure ferrari but now i'm thinking mclaren 😬 user4 no she will 1000% be in ferrari there's no way

yourusername posted stories

story 1 caption: save a horse ride a cowboy amirite 😍🤠

story 2 caption: don't worry i'm still a ferrari girl first <3 (ferrari pls give carlos a good strategy this weekend or i swear)

story replies to story 1:

user1 we went from subtle soft launch to horny on main so quick I have whiplash

carlossainz55 delete this

landonorris was busy doing an interview but is this why people keep yelling cowboy at me

yourusername oops sorry baby yourusername come eat i got your chicken wrap landonorris otw 🏃🏻‍♂️

story replies to story 2:

carlossainz55 for once I agree with one of your posts

user2 i can't wait to see you flame williams next year

oscarpiastri posting this while sitting across from me in the mclaren hospitality is wild

yourusername 😂

Part 4

taglist: @npcmia @tinyhrry @that-one-little-soybean @a-beaverhausen @mxdi0 @scorpiodiosa @dripostsstuff @maddja @thegirlamongthestars @flrboyd @saythename-sm @landossainz @arrowenchantress @plotpal @jule239 @avni-sarai @hangingwiththestars @nxk1309 @amberpanda99

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psformybss · 3 months ago

Note

for secret fiancé reader could you maybe do like their instagram posts of each other or like the fans finding out?

(i love your writing soooo much btw) xx

Soft Launch (but not really)

series masterlist

pairing: drew starkey x secret fiancee!reader

warnings: fluff, cuddling, social media chaos, drew being soft, y/n being a menace, teddy is the real star

an: i loved both ideas so i combined them but thank you so much saying you love my writing that is the biggest compliment anyone could ever give me 🫶🏼

︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

The room was a cocoon of quiet: low flickering light from the TV, Teddy softly snoring against Y/N’s stomach, and Drew’s steady breathing beside her, his fingers drawing mindless shapes on her back. They’d barely spoken in the last twenty minutes—no need to. The comfort between them was thick and easy, like a blanket they didn’t have to think about.

And then her phone started buzzing.

At first, just once. Then again. Then a burst of notifications that made Teddy grumble and lift his head, blinking like he’d been personally offended.

Y/N groaned, reaching blindly toward the nightstand. “What now?”

Drew didn’t even open his eyes. “Group chat meltdown?”

She turned the screen toward her. “Nope. Instagram.”

At that, Drew cracked one eye open. “Wait, what did you even post today?”

She gave him a look. “Seriously?”

He sat up a little, rubbing his face as the memory clicked. “Oh. Right. The birthday thing. The one you definitely didn’t tag me in.”

Y/N stifled a laugh, unlocking her phone as the notifications kept rolling in. “I thought I was being subtle.”

Drew shifted to lean against the headboard, pulling her back against his chest. “Apparently not subtle enough.”

Her thumb scrolled, and she read a few of the comments out loud between amused snorts.

“obxupdatesonly: who IS she and why is everyone tiptoeing in these comments??”

Drew raised his eyebrows. “They’re so dramatic.”

She kept scrolling. “drewstarkeysource: her posts are always quiet and lowkey but somehow he’s in half of them??”

He laughed at that. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“poguespilled: the way none of them have posted her but she’s clearly always there.” She shook her head. “Creepy accurate.”

“Told you,” he said, grinning. “You soft-launched me a year ago without realizing.”

“Oh no, it gets better,” Y/N said, voice rising with barely restrained laughter. “starkeysofts: this caption feels like a love letter in disguise. sorry i don’t make the rules.”

Drew let out a low whistle. “Yikes.”

“madibaeobsessed: ‘life lighter’ ‘something golden’ — you don’t write that about your friend.” She nudged his side with a smirk. “Guess we’re not fooling anyone.”

He took her hand, the one with the thin, gleaming band tucked just behind her knuckle, and pressed his thumb over it like muscle memory. “We didn’t exactly try that hard.”

“outerbanksanon: calling it now. soft launch of the century,” she read, then buried her face in his chest. “I hate how right they are.”

He grinned, resting his chin on top of her head. “I kind of love it.”

“jjxkiaraminds: who is she, and why do I want them to be in love.”

At that, they both laughed. Drew tilted her chin up just slightly. “Joke’s on them.”

“They got their wish.”

He kissed her once, soft and lazy. “Should we be worried?”

She shook her head, smile curling at the edges. “Nah. It’s still ours. They’re just guessing.”

“And guessing wrong,” he added, lifting her hand again and tapping the ring gently. “They have no idea how far in we are.”

“Exactly.” She grinned. “Let them think it’s a soft launch.”

Teddy gave an exaggerated sigh from beside them, clearly tired of the lack of attention.

Y/N set her phone aside, burrowing closer into Drew’s side. “Okay, mystery man. Want to finish the movie or read more fan theories about our non-existent relationship?”

Drew reached for the remote with a grin. “Let’s pretend we’re just friends a little longer. For sport.”

“And because it’s fun,” she added.

And just like that, with the world still trying to piece them together from crumbs and glances, they leaned into each other—quietly, secretly, completely theirs.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

ps. this was supposed to be posted yesterday but i made the mistake of writing it in here and somehow it deleted. also i could not figure out for the life of me how to make the instagram comments so i just wrote them into the story. i have a new found respect for people that write smau’s because it’s lowkey hella hard 😭

#drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x secret fiancee!reader #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey obx #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey blurb #rafe cameron x oc #obx #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n

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reysdriver · 7 months ago

Note

okay, just thinking about some celebrity daring to hit on sirius and he's like "bitch??" and then immediately runs to tattoo reader's name (VERY BIG) on the left side of his chest, right over his heart! and since he takes off his shirt at every show, everyone can enjoy the view (reader is also taken by surprise, she gets very horny if you ask me

Sirius shows the world where his passion lies — rockstar!sirius x reader fluff

warnings: allusions to sex, very suggestive

words: 1k

a/n: I love this request so much omggg that is such a Sirius thing to do (I could see James doing it too actually) but it's just PERFECT. I did change it a bit by making reader know about it beforehand but I hope it's still good! Also horny part 2 maybe... idk yet

You came back to the hotel room with coffee in your hand, a bag of pastries in your purse, and a tabloid magazine under your arm.

With The Marauders on tour, you’ve been living out of suitcases with your boyfriend and your friends for the last couple weeks. You’ve all been sharing sleep schedules with wolves, staying up until dawn and sleeping later than everyone else in whatever city you were staying in.

That’s precisely why you left to grab breakfast at eleven in the morning and Sirius was still fast asleep.

By the time you got back, you walked in to find Sirius wide awake, but still in bed, tangled in the bedsheets.

“Good morning, love.” Sirius said, shirtless with one hand behind his head.

“It was a good morning.” You teased, tossing him the magazine. “Then I saw you in the news.”

“Me?” He feigned surprise. It wasn’t at all uncommon for Sirius to be in the news or the tabloids, but it was usually for something he did, not some pop princess who writes songs you get tired of after two listens.

Sirius sat up and scanned the front page, curious as to what was going on.

Mary Macdonald makes her move on rock star Sirius Black; New musical romance in the works?

The caption was sitting atop a picture of the popstar in question onstage at a concert, her crop top showing off a fake tattoo on her abdomen with text reading Reserved 4 Sirius Black alongside an arrow pointed down.

“Oh, come on.” Sirius laughed, throwing the paper to the end of the bed. “This is what got you all bothered?”

You set your purse down and brought the coffee and pastries over to your boyfriend.

“Yes, so bothered I almost didn’t buy you a coffee. Be happy I did, though.”

“Of course I’m happy. I love you, doll.”

Sirius lifted the sheets and held out a hand to beckon you into the bed with him. You obey reluctantly, putting on a dramatic pout as you crawled in with your boyfriend and straddled his lap.

“You know you’re the only one for me, right?” He whispered, hands tracing along your hips.

You combed your fingers through his perfect hair, a frown on your face.

“Tell that to the singer-songwriter superstar announcing to the world that you’re the only person she wants between her legs.”

Sirius smiled in a way that made it painfully obvious he had something stupid to say. “Love, there are millions of people who feel that exact way about me. Including you, I would hope.”

Damn, this man was exhausting. And of course you loved him for it.

You rolled your eyes and tried to get out of the hotel bed, though your attempt was foiled by Sirius holding you back.

You let him get his way, but gave him an unimpressed look that did not match his badly-stifled grin.

“I’ll take care of it, alright?” He said, not elaborating at all.

You shook your head, hoping he would say more about whatever PR stunt he had in mind.

“Siri, what are you gonna do?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Sirius said softly. He took your hand in his and slid your palm gently across his bare chest. “I’ll take care of it, don’t you worry.”

✦✧✦✧✦

The next concert the band had was a few days after you first saw that magazine. You stood in the wings of the concert stage, just before the show started.

All the other band members had gone onto the stage and started setting up their instruments and playing the long intro to the opening song; it was just Sirius left, saying goodbye to you before he started performing and you made your way to the VIP section.

“You’re gonna do great, Siri.” You told him sincerely.

He winked at you, cocky as ever.

“I always do.”

Sirius then softened and masked your tone. He held your upper arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll let them all know I’m yours, and only yours.”

“They’re gonna go crazy.” You smiled.

“Damn right, they will. I’ll see you out there.”

Sirius gave your ass a playful smack before jogging out to the stage before he missed his cue, so you went down to your reserved space in the audience to see the band play from the best angle.

The audience lost their minds when Sirius ran onto the stage, per usual, screaming and shouting when all he’s done so far was enter.

But once Sirius started singing, the crowd noticed something off about the performance—Sirius was wearing a whole shirt for the first time throughout this tour. None of the band acknowledged it, of course; they were too busy playing music to be worried about what Sirius was wearing tonight.

Once the song finished, Sirius took a moment to say hello to the audience. After all the routine talking points—you know, your ‘how’s everybody doing?’ and whatnot—Sirius found it was the right time to say what he wanted to say.

“I saw a magazine cover the other day, with my name on it.” He started. “And not for the usual reasons. Mary Macdonald, I think it was…”

Many audience members went wild at the mention of her name, either because they were fans of her music, or they knew exactly what headlines Sirius was referring to.

“That was definitely an odd thing to wake up and see. But I’ve thought about it because it’s been everywhere, and I just have one thing to say about that.”

Instead of responding verbally, Sirius pulled off his black tank top with a smooth, swift motion, revealing his newest tattoo.

Your name was printed loud and clear on his chest, right over his heart. He got it done the day the Mary Macdonald pictures came out, and he was ecstatic to show it off to the world.

It caused quite a reaction, but you weren’t listening to the audience to know what they were even thinking. All you cared about was Sirius up on that stage, blowing you a kiss as The Marauders started to play the next song.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #rockstar!sirius #rockstar!sirius black #rockstar!marauders #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders fluff #xena's requests

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skywalkerslvt · 8 months ago

Note

Hi gigi! Just wanted to say I love the way you write sub anakin anddddd I wanted to request something about a very needy sub!peter parker 🤭 like maybe he bursts into your room in the middle of the night (through your window ofc) just DESPERATE for youuu

a/n: hi julia!! tysm for your message, i love this request. hope u like this lil fic that i wrote <3

CW: sexting, dirty talk, sub!peter parker, peter is a desperate whore, sexual content, 1.3k words, NOT PROOFREAD

Peter swung between buildings, trying to focus on the city below, but his phone kept buzzing in his suit pocket, vibrating with each new message from you. He was doing his best to ignore it, but it was impossible to resist the distraction when he knew it was you on the other end.

The first message was innocently playful:

"You out there saving the city, Spidey? Or just swinging around, thinking about me?"

Peter bit his lip, quickly ducking into an alleyway to pull out his phone. His fingers hesitated over the keyboard before typing back:

"Trying to focus on patrol, but you're making it hard."

He shoved the phone back into his pocket, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing, only for it to buzz again a few moments later.

"Oh really? Hard like what, Pete?"

His breath caught in his throat, cheeks flushing hot. He didn't dare respond, but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He tried to get back to swinging, but your next message hit him like a freight train:

"Wish you were here... I'm so bored. All alone. Guess I'll have to entertain myself..."

He groaned, nearly missing his web line as the image of you sprawled out on your bed filled his mind. His cock twitched in his suit, and he clenched his jaw, trying to will the arousal away. Stay focused, Parker, he told himself. But when the next message came through, it shattered any remaining self-control:

"I keep thinking about your mouth on me. Bet you'd be so good at it, wouldn't you?"

Peter's knees almost gave out. He darted into another dark alley, pulling out his phone with trembling hands.

"Please... you can't send me stuff like that right now. I'm trying to focus."

But his desperation only encouraged you further. The next message was a photo-nothing too explicit, but just enough to show the delicate lace of your bra peeking out from under your silk nighty, your fingers pulling it down ever so slightly. The caption read:

"If only you were here to take this off me."

Peter's breath hitched. He could feel himself getting hard, his suit growing uncomfortably tight around his aching cock. He typed back a shaky response:

"You're killing me... I'm already so hard. Please stop, I can't handle it."

But he didn't want you to stop. And you knew it. The texts kept coming, each one more suggestive than the last:

"I can almost feel your hands on me, Peter. God, I bet you're such a mess right now."

"Imagine me, on my knees, looking up at you... Bet you'd lose your mind, wouldn't you, baby?"

Each message had him squirming, hips shifting involuntarily in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure in his suit. But the final text was the one that broke him:

It was a picture of you lying on your bed, wearing nothing but black lace lingerie that hugged every curve of your body. The fabric was sheer enough to leave little to the imagination, and you had one leg bent just enough to reveal how little you were wearing beneath it. The caption was the final nail in the coffin:

"Waiting for you, Peter. Come home and play with your toy."

You hit "send" on the last photo, biting your lip as you stared at the screen. The picture of you sprawled out on your bed, wearing that barely-there lingerie, left little to the imagination. The caption you'd added was maybe a bit too bold, but you were already too deep in your teasing game to back down now.

For a moment, you held your breath, waiting for the familiar buzz of his reply. Instead, you just saw the little "read" notification pop up under your message... and then nothing. Your stomach flipped nervously.

Maybe I pushed him too far, you thought, chewing on your bottom lip as the seconds dragged on. Was it too much? Had you crossed some kind of line? You knew Peter could be shy, especially when it came to anything intimate. Hell, you'd been carefully toeing the line between playful and dirty all night, knowing how easily he got flustered.

But now, sitting there with no response, doubt started creeping in. Had you gone too far, teased him into a corner where he couldn't handle it anymore?

You sighed, dropping your phone on the bed and trying to push away the disappointment. Maybe he's just too focused on patrol. I shouldn't have distracted him like that. You turned on some music, trying to distract yourself from overthinking, but you couldn't help glancing at your phone every few minutes, hoping for that telltale buzz. Nothing came.

A good twenty minutes passed, and you were just about to call it a night when you heard the soft thud of something landing on your fire escape. Your heart skipped a beat. You barely had time to process the sound before you saw a shadow move behind your curtains.

Peter practically stumbled through your window, his eyes wild and breathless, his cheeks flushed a deep red. He looked like he'd run a marathon to get here, his hair sticking up in all directions and his suit clinging to his sweat-dampened skin.

"Oh," you said with a sly grin, leaning back on your bed as he stood there, panting and wide-eyed. "Looks like Spidey decided to finally show up."

Peter's gaze raked over you, lingering on the lace that hugged your curves, the same set you'd sent him in the picture. He swallowed hard, his breath hitching when your eyes locked on his.

"Y-you... I couldn't... I tried to focus," he stuttered, his voice coming out broken and needy. "But I-I couldn't stop thinking about you."

You tilted your head, pretending to consider his words as you slowly crawled to the edge of the bed, closing the distance between you. "Oh, really?

So, all that ignoring my messages was just you trying to be a good little hero?"

Peter's knees nearly buckled at the teasing tone in your voice, his fingers twitching at his sides as if he didn't know what to do with his hands.

"Well, you're here now," you purred, tugging him closer by the waistband of his suit. "So, let's see if you're ready to be good for me... or if I need to make you beg a little more."

Peter's breath was ragged, eyes glazed with a mix of desperation and something raw that sent a thrill down your spine. He took a shaky step closer, his hands hovering awkwardly as if he was afraid to touch you without permission. You could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

"Please," he whimpered, his voice cracking. "l... I need you so bad. I couldn't focus, I-"

You placed a finger against his lips, silencing him, and watched as his eyes fluttered shut at even that slightest touch. The way he was trembling under your gaze was intoxicating, his resolve completely shattered.

"Aw, poor thing," you cooed, trailing your fingers down his jawline, feeling the way his breath hitched under your touch. "All that patrol work, and you still couldn't stop thinking about me? You just couldn't stay away, huh?"

"N-no, I couldn't," he confessed, his hips shifting forward as if he was subconsciously trying to find some kind of friction. The way his cock strained against his suit was almost pitiful. "I-I tried... but I just-God, I need you to touch me."

"Oh, baby," you teased, letting your thumb brush over his bottom lip. "You're already this worked up? I barely did anything."

Peter's eyes were practically begging now, his fingers twitching as if holding himself back from grabbing you and falling apart right then and there.

"Please," he choked out again, a desperate, broken sound that made your smirk widen.

You leaned in close, your breath ghosting over his ear. "I'm gonna make you wait, just like you made me wait," you whispered, and the whimper that tore from his throat was so needy, so wrecked, that you couldn't help but grin.

#sub peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman smut #skywalkerslvt

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sillygoose067 · 4 days ago

Note

This is the first time I’ve ever requested something. I love your writing so much. Would you be willing to do a Joaquin Torres hurt/comfort with a female reader where she doesn’t talk to her family since she graduated high school, and all of a sudden they’re inserting themselves back into her life? If not that’s totally fine.

Omg I'm so honored to be your first request! Sorry it took so long 😓 summer courses are kicking my ass.

I love this request so much and it's actually funny you asked because I'd been thinking about writing something of the sort anyway — you just gave me more of a reason to go ahead and do it. Yay!

I'm not sure if this is what you were looking for since I added some of the ideas I had into this one, but hopefully you like it!

———————————————————————————-

The Light You Carry

Joaquin Torres x Reader

Warnings: mention of self harm, toxic family

It starts with a message.

No greeting. No punctuation. Just a photo.

The porch.

Sun-drenched and colorless, like an old bruise. The same cracked step you once tripped over as a kid. The plastic chair that never matched anything, still stationed by the door like it’s waiting for someone who never came home. The paint is peeling, the sky is pink, and the caption—if it can be called that—says only:

“Your uncle’s birthday is Saturday. Everyone’s coming.”

No “how have you been?” No “I miss you.”

Just a date, a place, a presumption.

You feel it in your gut first — the slow tightening, the curl of something cold and sour deep in your stomach. Then your hands, suddenly unsure of what they’re holding. Then your chest, which seems to forget how to do the simple work of breathing.

You haven’t heard from your mother in four years. Not on your birthday. Not when you moved cities. Not when you were hospitalized for that emergency appendicitis scare, when Joaquin slept on the fold-out chair and held your hand like it was the only real thing in the world.

You reread the message anyway. As if repetition will unlock context, will conjure some hidden line beneath the silence. It doesn’t. It just stings in new ways.

Joaquin finds you like that — still, back half-turned toward the window, the dying light soft around you like dust. Your phone dangles from one hand. The other is clenched into a fist you hadn’t realized you were making.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just steps into your space with a gentle kind of gravity. When he finally does, his voice is soft, careful, like he’s brushing snow from your shoulders.

“Querida… what’s going on?”

You hand him the phone, and with it, a silence you don’t know how to fill. He reads the message once, brow furrowed — not in confusion, but understanding. Like he already knows this isn’t just about a party, or a porch, or your uncle. It’s about them. About her.

He doesn’t ask the obvious questions. He doesn’t need to. He just lowers the phone, places it on the table between you, and looks at you like he sees every shattered piece you’re pretending not to step on.

“She hasn’t reached out since graduation, right?” he asks quietly.

You nod, voice brittle. “Not a word.”

“...She didn’t even ask how you’ve been.”

“Why would she?” You laugh, but it’s the kind that folds in on itself. “It’s not about me. It never is. She just wants me to show up. To prove to everyone that I’m still the good daughter. Still obedient. Still theirs.”

Joaquin takes a slow step forward. His gaze never leaves yours.

“Do you want to go?”

You exhale through your nose, hard. “No. Yes. I don’t know. I want to know why she’s texting me now, but I don’t want to walk into that house and become someone I spent four years clawing my way out of.”

“You’re not her anymore,” he says. “You won’t ever be her again.”

You blink fast. Something behind your ribs tightens.

“I thought I’d stopped hoping for this,” you murmur. “For her to say something. Anything. But the second she does, it’s like I’m sixteen again, waiting for her to notice I’m bleeding.”

Joaquin doesn’t flinch. He’s a solid thing in a room that suddenly feels paper-thin.

“I want to tell her to fuck off,” you say quietly. “But I also want to… see. Just see. If maybe something’s different.”

He nods, like he’s already made up his mind. “Then let’s go.”

You stare at him. “What?”

“I mean it,” he says. “Let’s go. We’ll drive down. You won’t have to walk through the door unless you want to. You don’t have to smile. You don’t have to stay. You can leave the second your chest gets tight. I’ll have the car running. You just squeeze my hand, and we’re gone.”

You hesitate. The thought of it makes your skin crawl — and ache. Both at once.

“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“And maybe you’ll never be,” he says, gently. “Maybe that’s okay. But maybe… just maybe… this gives you the power again. To walk in on your own terms. To face it — not for them, but for you. So that you get to decide whether there’s anything left to heal, or whether the wound’s better left closed.”

You press your forehead to his chest. He smells like wind and soap and something warm you don’t have a name for. He wraps his arms around you like he’s been waiting to, like he’s been carrying this weight in halves until you were ready to set it down.

“You’ll stay close?”

“I won’t leave your side.”

“And if it all goes bad?”

“Then we get tacos and drive home with the windows down and talk about anything but this.” He leans down, presses his lips to your temple. “You’ve already survived worse, mi amor. Now you get to choose what kind of ending you want.”

You nod into his shirt, the fabric damp where your cheek rests. And for the first time in hours — maybe longer — the fear doesn’t feel like it owns you.

“Okay,” you whisper.

And he doesn’t say are you sure?

He just says, “I’ve got you.”

---

You shouldn’t have come. You knew it before you knocked, before your mother’s eyes flicked past you like you were a guest she hadn’t expected. But you came anyway.

The house is loud — not with joy, but with posturing. Dishes clatter in the kitchen. The TV blares something no one’s watching. Laughter bubbles in awkward, lopsided bursts. People you haven’t seen since you were seventeen glance at you like you’re something that grew back wrong.

You try to breathe, try to smile like it doesn’t sting.

Joaquin stands beside you, tense and watchful, like he knows something’s about to go wrong. And then it happens.

Your cousin — the one who used to lock you out of your room and then gaslight you about it — sidles over with a red cup in his hand and too much amusement on his face.

“Well damn,” he says. “Didn’t think you’d show your face again. Thought you’d finally run off and made a mess of your life, like everyone expected.”

You freeze.

The room doesn’t.

Someone snorts. Someone else shifts awkwardly, but no one intervenes. The moment hangs — sharp and slicing, like cold metal between your ribs.

You barely open your mouth to respond.

But Joaquin steps forward — fast.

And he explodes.

“What the hell did you just say?”

The room goes dead quiet.

Your cousin flinches, stumbling back half a step. “Relax, man—”

“No, you don’t get to say that and pretend it’s a joke,” Joaquin growls, voice like fire under pressure. “You don’t get to act like you weren’t part of making her life hell and then laugh in her face when she has the guts to walk back in here.”

“Jesus, calm down—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Joaquin snaps, eyes blazing. “You think it’s funny she stayed away this long? You think it’s funny she left without anything? You want to talk about expectations? She expected basic goddamn decency and never got it from any of you.”

Your heart’s hammering in your chest.

No one speaks.

Even your mother has gone pale, mouth parted like she might say something — but nothing comes out.

Your cousin’s still holding his cup, frozen mid-drink.

And then Joaquin turns to you, breath still fast, hands clenched.

“We’re done here.”

His voice isn’t loud now. It’s sharp. Final.

You’re still too stunned to react, so he reaches for your hand, warm and strong, and laces your fingers through his with a fierce kind of tenderness.

He’s practically vibrating with fury as he pulls you gently toward the door.

And just as you pass your mother, she says — quietly, sharply — “You didn’t have to cause a scene.”

Joaquin stops.

Slowly, he turns, eyes blazing.

“You should’ve stopped them before I had to.”

Then he opens the door and walks you out, hand tight in yours, breath shaking.

Outside, the cold air hits like a slap. You make it to the car before the adrenaline catches up and your knees go weak.

Joaquin’s already helping you in, carefully, silently. But the second the door closes, he punches the steering wheel once — not hard enough to break it, just enough to let it out.

---

The car hums softly around you, a gentle thrum like the steady pulse of a heart trying to slow down after running a long race. The night outside presses close, thick with the scent of wet asphalt and distant jasmine, the world muted in the lull between storms.

Inside, the silence stretches, not brittle but heavy and tender — a cocoon stitched together from the aftermath of everything that just happened. Joaquin’s hand rests over yours, warmth seeping through skin like a whispered promise.

He chews the inside of his cheek, eyes dark pools reflecting the streetlight’s pale glow. His breath catches, a low catch almost too soft to hear.

“You okay?” you ask, voice small, fragile, like breaking glass held in careful hands.

He turns toward you, the shadowed lines of his face softening. “You’re the one who just faced hell,” he says, voice rough with raw edges. “I’m just the guy who lost it watching you get hurt.”

You try to smile, but it trembles like a candle flame in a draft.

He reaches out, fingers gentle, tracing slow, deliberate circles on the back of your hand — a slow rhythm meant to anchor you back to the moment, back to safety.

The car slows, and he pulls onto a side street, a stretch where the city noise fades into a whisper. He kills the engine, leaving the world to settle around you in a hush.

His eyes find yours, steady and fierce in the low light.

“Hey,” he breathes, voice threading through the silence like a song. “I’m sorry. For yelling. For breaking loose. I just… I saw the way they looked at you. Like you were a ghost haunting a house they’d rather forget.”

Your throat tightens. You swallow the ache that blooms there.

“I wanted to protect you,” he says, voice trembling just enough to betray the storm inside. “Because you didn’t deserve any of that. None of it.”

You nod, blinking back the shadows gathering at the corners of your eyes.

“You think they even remember what it’s like? To care?” you whisper.

He shakes his head, slow and sure. “No. They don’t deserve you. Not even a fraction of the light you carry.”

Your breath falters. A single tear escapes, trailing warmth down your cheek.

Without thinking, he lifts his hand to your face, fingers brushing the tear away like it’s a secret he’s been waiting to find. His touch is soft, reverent, as if you’re a fragile flower unfolding after winter.

“I wanted to defend you,” he murmurs, voice breaking with the weight of it, “but I know sometimes you just want to disappear instead.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the sound fragile and raw. “Yeah… sometimes.”

He leans closer, forehead resting against yours, breath mingling in the small space between you.

“You’ll never have to disappear again,” he promises, voice a vow, a benediction. “I won't let you.”

You close your eyes, the world narrowing down to the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, the soft brush of his breath, the sanctuary in his arms.

And finally, you let go.

Your tears fall slow and quiet, the kind of sorrow that fills empty spaces and leaves behind something soft — a healing.

He wraps you close, fierce and tender all at once, as if holding together every cracked piece of your soul.

“You didn’t overreact,” you sniffle into his hoodie, voice still thick.

He exhales, the tension unraveling in a slow, shuddering sigh.

“Good,” he says. “Because I was ready to burn that whole damn house down.”

You laugh again — this time, genuine — shaky but real.

“I believe you,” you say, voice trembling with something like hope.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, thumbs stroking your cheeks with a reverence that humbles you.

“I love you,” he says, voice hoarse and fierce and soft all at once. “You know that, right?”

You nod, words lost but heart loud.

“I love you, too.”

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matchpointfaist · 3 months ago

Note

lowkey ashamed but could you write a blurb abt loser art who is on 4chan? i saw that meme where the guy is like “i didn’t know there was girls on here that’s so cool :)” and i thought of him

hiding behind anon bc i’m embarrassed

a/n:: i kinda took like concepts of this?? i don’t use 4chan so idk the vibes but i just kinda made it chronically online loser art i hope that’s okay! it kinda just got lovey dovey stupid <3333

art knew, objectively, that he wasn’t very cool. he didn’t have very many friends in real life, and he admittedly was not very good at talking to girls.

online, though, he could be anyone he wanted. not that he’d lie, of course. he was far too good of a person for that. but he was so free with his interests, able to talk about his opinions in a way he’d never had in public settings.

he’d seen you around campus, leaving classes or out walking, usually alone with earbuds in. you were the kind of girl he’d dream of, but never speak to, effortlessly pretty and always seeming so relaxed.

you’d made a little home in art’s search history, admittedly. he made more frequent than he’d like to admit, visits to your instagram, twitter, really anywhere he could get a deeper insight into you.

you were funny, he could tell that much. constantly retweeting things he’d seen on his own feed, posting .5s to your instagram story with cutesy captions. he was almost embarrassed of how often he looked, but you’d never know, right?

he’d been mindlessly complaining the first time your name ever appeared across his screen not by his own searching.

it was so jarring he almost threw his phone down, truly. he’d panicked for a moment, contemplating even replying, but immediately regretting the very thought of ignoring you, of missing his shot. so he’d thought up a witty reply, as best he could, but his phone chimed again before he even had the chance.

‘hey art! hope it’s okay i went ahead and messaged you. here’s the notes for philosophy! x’

god, he’s nearly fainted at the little x, his heart beating embarrassingly fast. ‘thanks! this is a huge help, you’re the best’

you’re the best? god, who says that? in just one interaction, you’d already demolished the safety he’d built in his little corner of the internet. it was worth it, he guessed, to be able to actually talk to you, instead of borderline stalking your socials.

you hadn’t responded, and he tried to ignore it, until eventually he gave in and refreshed your stories. you’d posted on instagram, a little green ring around your pfp, and his eyes lit up. close friends? him?

and there you were, a sultry little smile on your lips as you gazed up at whoever held the camera, a 1975 song playing in the background. god, you were so fuckin pretty. he found himself lost in it, staring aimlessly at the photo, examining every inch of your face like a piece of art.

finally, with shaky hands, he slid up on the post. ‘i love this song’ he sent, biting the inside of his cheek, burning with embarrassment for no real reason. this was a totally normal interaction, he told himself. you were just way out of his league, that’s all.

you replied back soon after, ‘saw you posted it the other day. didn’t know you were a fan’

god, you saw what he posted?

‘yeah, i’ve loved them for ages, it’s cool you like them too.’

‘maybe we could hang out some time and talk ab it?’

oh, fuck.

‘yeah? i’d like that’

his cheeks were heated at the thought, of being really with you, not just hiding behind his phone screen and thinking all his spiraled thoughts of you.

god, you, your big pretty eyes and sweet smile and disinterested gaze you always seemed to have when he saw you in public. you were so fucking cool, so so far out of his league, not even close.

embarrassingly, once again, he was hard just thinking about it, about your face and your laugh and the very prospect of being close to you. he was helpless to stop himself, slipping a hand underneath his boxers as he scrolled through your instagram, looking over all your pictures pretty pictures and replaying your interaction on a loop until he was whining and bucking up into his own fist, a wet spot on the cotton of his underwear as he came to nothing but a photo of you on the beach the summer prior. he was so fucked.

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bellfilmz · 2 months ago

Text

“Out of sight, out of mind?”

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rafe x reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: While studying abroad, Reader’s new friends doubt the existence of her wealthy boyfriend until Rafe Cameron makes a bold appearance to prove he’s very real.

⸻

You sipped your cappuccino as your friends argued about what country to backpack to next weekend.

“I’m telling you, Croatia is it right now. Sun, water, boats—perfect Instagram content,” Isla insisted, flipping her blonde curls over one shoulder.

Maya rolled her eyes, tapping away on her phone. “We’ve done islands for like three weekends in a row. I vote cities. Let’s do Amsterdam.”

You leaned back in your chair, amused but distracted. Your phone buzzed in your lap for the fifth time, and you didn’t even need to look. You already knew who it was.

Rafe:

“What time are you done with class? I miss your voice.”

You smiled softly, thumbs hovering over the keyboard before locking your phone and sliding it into your bag without responding.

“What about you?” Maya asked, squinting at you over the rim of her latte. “Where do you wanna go, mystery girl?”

“Huh?” You blinked, then laughed. “Oh—uh, either sounds good.”

Isla gave you a look. “You’ve been zoned out all morning. Who are you texting all the time, anyway? Still that ‘boyfriend’ of yours?”

You paused. “Yes, Rafe.”

Maya smirked. “Riiiight. Rafe, the mysterious rich boyfriend from North Carolina who we’ve heard about but never seen. You sure he’s not imaginary? Like a real-life ‘Lana Del Rey summer love’ situation?”

You blinked. “He’s real.”

“Then why haven’t we seen a photo of you two since… what, October?” Isla raised a brow. “It’s February.”

You rolled your eyes. “Because Rafe doesn’t like photos. He’s private. And I’m not going to force selfies on him for proof.”

“Doesn’t call during the day either,” Maya added. “And all these gifts he ‘sends’ you? Designer bags and clothes? We’ve never seen a single delivery.”

You sat back, a little stunned. “Are you serious? You think I’m lying?”

“I mean,” Isla said carefully, “you’re gorgeous, and you’re mysterious as hell, so yeah, it wouldn’t be shocking if you made it up to keep up the mystery.”

You narrowed your eyes. “He doesn’t want me posting him because his family’s loaded and they have, like, reputation issues back home. That’s why I’m not flaunting him. Not because he doesn’t exist.”

Maya shrugged. “If you say so.”

You didn’t say another word. Instead, you pulled out your phone, opened your camera, and snapped a quick photo of your annoyed face with the caption:

“My friends don’t believe you’re real.”

You sent it to Rafe and set the phone on the table, screen-up.

Maya and Isla were mid-rant about train routes when your phone lit up with an incoming FaceTime.

You didn’t hesitate tapping accept and turning the screen toward them.

Rafe’s face appeared, sun-kissed and smug, wearing one of his signature fitted t-shirts. His jaw was sharp, his eyes soft when they met yours.

“Hey, baby,” he said, voice deep and velvety. “Is this the part where I prove I’m real?”

Your friends went silent.

You turned the screen toward them. “Say hi, girls.”

Isla blinked. Maya leaned in, stunned. “Holy shit.”

Rafe raised a brow. “Are those the ones who think my girl’s too pretty to have a boyfriend back home?”

You grinned. “Yep. These are the ones who thought I was writing fanfiction about you in my diary.”

“Damn,” he laughed. “You know, I was gonna send you a surprise next week, but I might overnight it now just to make a point.”

Maya’s jaw dropped. “Wait, that’s Rafe?”

Rafe gave them a cocky little salute. “That’d be me.”

“I thought he’d be, like… soft rich,” Isla muttered. “Not—hot rich.”

You laughed as Rafe tilted his head. “Baby, show them the necklace I sent you.”

You reached for the dainty, glimmering diamond chain around your neck, holding it up to the camera.

“She’s wearing my initials. So If she ever takes it off tell me, I’ll fly there myself.”

The girls were stunned silent.

You winked at him. “Thanks for backing me up.”

“Always. Now, call me later, yeah? I wanna hear about your day.” He paused, gaze dropping slightly. “And maybe talk about flying you home sooner.”

Your heart fluttered.

“Deal.”

The call ended.

You leaned back with a smug grin as Maya and Isla just stared.

“Told you.”

Maya finally exhaled. “I take back everything. Can you ask if he has a cousin?”

⸻

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝.

#obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe blurb #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic

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lesbikaiser · 5 months ago

Note

Hellooo :3

could you write how Lorenzo and Barou would react to if reader sent them nudes, please?

hii <3 ofc i can! im so sorry for taking so long :( idk how exactly to write reactions but i hope you like it!

proofread but you never know, so im sorry if there's any errors!

don lorenzo

lorenzo feels like drool might start leaking from his mouth. there's no way he isn't spotting a hard-on right now, he knows that. all thanks to the notification popping on his screen just when he got his break, his intention being only checking his phone to see if you left any texts and oh, sure you did.

"been missing you... [02:38 PM]"

'"come back soon <3 [02:46 PM]"

the first one was sent a few minutes before his break, he could even hear your whiny voice actually saying it, and just from this one message alone, he would be beaming for the rest of his practice while thinking about you.

well, that's until he noticed the image attached to the second one.

surely he'll be thinking about you for the rest of the day after seeing it. the one that made him click on your chat, the one that got lips curving into a smirk, the one that got the boner on his shorts.

it's a picture of you. your body lays on your shared bed, breasts free of any bra with your nipples perked up, one of your hands holding your phone up to your face while the other disappears inside the lacy panties adorning your hips, hinting what you've probably been done for the past minutes.

it's a mirror picture. the same mirror he got on the ceiling of your bedroom, specifically above your bed because he wanted you to watch when he fucks you in missionary.

he's totally making that picture his lockscreen. because he's just this kind of freak.

and he's totally excusing himself to the locker room to enjoy his break, fingers quickly moving to text back a response.

"keep cumming till you can't anymore [02:50 PM]"

"ya better be nice and wet for me when i get home [02:51 PM]"

oh, and he's 100% snapping a few pictures of his hand covered in his cum and sending it to you when he's done.

shoei barou

shoei barou can't believe his eyes. he thinks you might've gone insane at this point.

he knew it would come back to bite him in the ass sooner or later, to date such a nasty person like you... but what could he do? he loved you after all.

even when you decided to give him a boner in the middle of his cleaning.

he couldn't help but worry a little when his phone rang non-stop, the exclusive sound he gave your number so he would know it was you just from hearing it, indicating you'd sent him a few texts. and as much as cleaning was sacred to him, you were way more important than the dishes he was doing.

oh, what a right regretful choice.

"shoeeeeei [04:28 PM]"

"miss u sososo muchhhh [04:28 PM]"

"wanna be with youuuu [04:29 PM]"

unlocking his phone, the first messages got him to calm down, at least he knew that you were safe. he smiled to himself, reading through your sweet texts. he really thought nothing of it at first, he was used to your clinginess – especially when you had to go to work –, that was probably just you being your lovely self.

that's until he scrolled down and saw the image attached to your chat.

it was a picture of you. probably hidden in the restroom, your face is off the screen, just lips and chin showing but surely not the most eye-catching element in the pic.

his gaze is unconsciously attracted to your uniform, with enough buttons open to show your cleavage and the red, lacy bra framing your breasts, he can't deny his dick twitches at the sight. like a cherry atop the cake, a necklace hangs from your neck with a 'B' pendant resting right in the middle of your tits, a faint bruise on your skin thanks to the hickey he gave you a while ago.

he reads the caption.

"yk, it's soooo hot today [04:32 PM]"

"can't wait to be home and get rid of these clothes >.< [04:33 PM]"

he's too stunned to even think of responding, eyes bulging as he stares at his screen perplexed. he can feel his dick straining against his shorts, breath heavy as lust washes over him, heat creeping up his neck and reaching his cheeks the longer he looks at the picture.

it's your next message that takes him out of his trance, his heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing through his veins, eagerness getting the best of him when he places his hand over his bulge, squeezing it slightly as he reads your text.

"hopefully i'll be home soon [04:35 PM]"

"so wait for me my love <3 [04:35 PM]"

he's looking forward to it.

#blue lock smut #bllk smut #barou smut #shoei barou smut #lorenzo smut #don lorenzo smut #ㅤ𔘓 – my works...!

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cvnt4him · 1 year ago

Text

................................................

"woah would you look at that, deku just took out that guy with a single punch!"

"he's so amazing!~"

"you're my hero!!!"

So many people chant, root, and holler for even the slightest glimpse of his attention, even a glance.

"Mr deku, what can you tell us about this villain, you hadn't even put up much of a hassle and yet he appears to be tired!" One report gleams.

It's true. He hadn't done too much, one simple practically, light punch and the criminal was already down, he knew that. Deku knew he was good, he knew others thought he was good. He thrived on that kind of energy.

"oh~, well you know, I'm not one to brag nor bring other people down, criminal or not we're all human." He sings to the reporter, hinting at the fact she gave the measly little lowlife schmuck at best, a promotion to 'villian'. cameras flashing everywhere as he heard a bunch of girlish screams, everyone looks over to see a bunch of fan girls rallying to get an autograph.

Dammit.

Izuku tried so hard not to let his smile faulter, its not that he disliked his fans, really he could never, he knows one of the reasons he's here is because of his fans, and he loves them all equally no matter what. However. scrolling on the Internet, especially as a pro hero it's hard not to go down a loophole of your own fans. Izukus fans are nice, sure. But they're also bat shit crazy.

Doxxing people for disagreeing, assuming he was gay for his best friend dynamite, writing fanfiction about him and his best friend dynamite, assuming he had a new significant other because he changed up his style of clothing??

Really his fans are too much, he loves them, he does. But they are just so...smothering?

As he sees the fans hurrying toward him he tries his hardest to jump away as he was stopped by a little deaf girl who wanted an autograph.

Shit. You can't NOT give a little deaf girl an autograph it'd be bad publicity. he sighs deeply in defeat, knowing how easily persuaded he is, he'll most likely be there standing, on his feet, smiling wide and big for fans, for the next hour and a half.

Izuku sighed deeply through his nose as he finally, after 5 more hours of working, made it back to his bed, that's all he wanted. He didn't bother taking his suit off just simply jumping in his bed and groaning at the comfort he longed for.

He grabbed his phone and opened Twitter.. that was the first mistake of the night, he scrolled through his feed coming across a post of a girl just rambling about her ever lasting love for deku.

He shifted in his bed so now he was laying back on his pillows, turning up the sound to hear your beautifully slurred voice.

"- like bro.. I don't think any of you understand how my NEED for this man is like just.. sigh. I'm about to go crazy bro. If I were given the chance I'd do unholy. Unspeakable. Down right horrendous things to this man, i- aHaAVE YOU SEEN HIS NEW HERO SUIT??" You were talking to your friend who had the idea to start recording you while you were drunk, laughing and snorting at you.

The video was posted by you, the caption read; 'my friend started recording while i was drunk and i randomly went on a rant ab my love for the #1 hero 💀'

He snickered at this, genuinely finding it funny, but sooner or later it registered in his brain what you'd said..you'd do what to him.

Before he knew it he was semi hard, he looked down at his slight hard on confused, there is no way this turned him on?? He had been sent so many videos of his fan girls from all ages going down on a dildo with his name slapped on it, he never found it the least but attractive, just kind of desperate..

He watched the video again, his cock becoming fully erect as he sighed at the uncomfortable feeling of his now leaking, completely hard cock, rubbing against his suit pants.

It had been a while since he'd done something like this.. since he had used someone..he needed this, just to relax. Just a couple of strokes to get him to come, that's all.

He let out a shaky sigh, slowly trailing his thick fingers up and down his clothed cock, earning a light squeak to rip from his throat due to the slight pleasure he felt from the gentle actions.

He knew he needed it, he needed this so badly, but he wouldn't rush it. He hated when he rushed things, he says 'they never get done correctly'.

So he would be patient with himself, gently palming himself over his suit pants, letting breathy sighs leave his slightly dried and chapped lips.

He looked over to his phone to see the paused video...

'oh what the hell.' he thought to himself as he grabbed the phone, angling and holding it close to his ear to hear your voice and the loud laughs that he hopefully tried to blur out of his mind. Focusing on your voice fully.

He held the phone close to his ear closing his eyes listening to your slurred speech, and the hiccups and giggles that left your mouth, he bit his lip as his palming motions began to get harder and more rough, "I would do down right horrendous things to this man." That line stuck with him, that's what made him undo his pants and shimmy them off so he could fully touch his leaking, crying cock.

He groaned in embarrassment and disgust in himself at the sight of his already soaked boxers, why did his cock have to be so leaky!!

He whimpered at the sight, pulling his boxers down just enough to have his cock hit against himself. He wrapped two fingers around his cock and rolled his eyes back, biting his lip to sustain the sound that wanted to come out. He stroked himself slowly, letting the precum on his tip continue to drip down his thick cock.

He had listened to the audio all over again this time fixating on the part where you'd talked about his suit. He had changed up his suit a couple of times, never really straying away from the original concept he had in highschool, the green was always there to stay, and he always liked the fact his suit was more of a jumpsuit kind of thing, but changing it over the years, he went with a tighter fabric for his new and improved suit, removing the bunny ears at the back, and adding a white cape, replacing his huge bulky gloves with just as thick, smaller and well fitted ones, the white the painted his suit was now black.

He hadn't done much to his suit really.

But you and so many others thought it was the sexiest thing in the world.

He loved that, that you loved his suit, he whimpered in a pitchy octave, eyes crossing as he shut them, breaths becoming uneven as he wraps his whole hand around his aching, dripping, cock. It yearned for release, he needed it, it hurt so bad but felt so good he couldn't stop, he was sooo close!

So so close, and yet.. not close enough to get him there. He abandoned all self respect and hope for 'not rushing things' he needed to come and the only way he could is if he really touched himself.

He ripped off the top of his hero suit before rummaging in his bedside drawer to grab a Fleshlight, it was a lot more advanced than your normal average pussy shaped fleshie, it had handle and so many different modes!!! It vibrated and wiggled and had a squirt thingy that shot lube inside to make his cock slippery, not that he'd need it, his cock is like a water fountain with so much cum to give.

He turned it onto its highest setting before settling his twitching cock, dribbling with precum, inside of it.

He couldn't contain the line of moans that ripped out of him, he wanted to really he did, he wanted to keep quiet for his neighbors but he just couldn't, he felt so fucking good, he'd felt that he'd never been this hot or bothered before especially not because of some measly audio that wasn't in any way remotely sexual, and yet he was so close to cumming because of it. This video. This person. You.

You were so close to making him cum.. he was right there bucking his hips up into the contraption, shaking, whilst his whole body spasmed as he threw his head back, sweat dripping from his tired and spent body, he groaned and moaned so loudly it was so lewd, he was so lewd. He couldn't believe what he was doing, he felt so dirty, but in this very moment, he couldn't care. He was so drunk off of the immense amount of pleasure he was receiving that all he wanted, needed, was to cum.

And when he finally released with a high pitched moan, globs of tears leaving his rolled eyes, there was so much, ropes of his white, hot, thick cum squirting inside of the toy. It was still vibrating against his softening cock, it made him so overstimulated yet he couldn't move, his orgasm was so strong he didn't have the energy to take his cock out. He just sat there, holding onto the toy that continuously vibrated and massaged his limp, thick, crying cock, crying, sniffing, and whimpering.

Hell he'd probably already came again without even knowing it, his orgasms had gone on for a while, he still couldn't move, just blissfully laying against his bed, covered in sweat and tears streaming down his reddened freckled face.

As he regained his composure, the overstimulation was more than enough, he hiccuped, wiping his face from the tears and sweat that covered it, as he turned off the toy and tossed it off of his bed, he was half naked, hot, and hungry.

He groaned as he draped one of his arms over his face, feeling the sweat and tears cover his forearm, as he heard the video that had been playing over and over again on repeat. His eyes shot wide open as he scurried to grab his phone. he looked at the video in disgust. Had he really just gone to a new low, and came to this stupid video of a dumb drunk girl complimenting him??

His post nut clarity was always bad, especially because he did some pretty down bad, disgusting, sinful things. But this? Yeah he deserved to suffer for all eternity.

He groaned placing his phone under his pillow as he buried his face in said pillow, squeezing his eyes shut at how hard he'd came, his cock still filthy and sticky with his thick ooey gooey cum, now dirtying his bed.

................................................

AN: he hates himself for how much and how hard he came, he really does.

I'm making a pt 2🤭

#deku smut #deku x reader #izuku is so girlie pop #izuku x reader #boku no hero academia #mha #mha x reader #cvnts-post

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noriimura · 4 months ago

Text

namgyu headcannons’’

warnings: dark! namgyu, drugs, thinness, eating problems, addictions, family issues

an: my thoughts on how I see namgyu outside the game, it's okay if our ideas about him may differ. english is not my first language. this is my first post of this kind, so I hope you enjoy it

part 2 is coming soon…

i think he grew up without a father, with a cold, distant mother who didn't need him. he always tried to get her love and attention by doing housework, drawing her pictures with the caption "mommy, I love you" or "mommy, you're the best," then finding the drawings in the trash. he tried to study well at school, achieve heights in the classroom and be better than his classmates, thus receiving the excellent student syndrome. however, as he grew older, he realized that it was useless, his mother would not love him, the imaginary interest that was present only out of a desire to please his mother disappeared altogether. he gave up on his studies, and in high school he periodically skipped school with friends, drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes one after another. after finishing school somehow and passing the exams with a low score, he gave up on education and decided not to go further to study, he went to work in a nightclub on the advice of his friend who worked there

due to the fact that his mother was often absent from his life, he developed an anxious type of attachment. he is not sure of himself, he is afraid that he will be abandoned, that he can be intrusive, constantly demands confirmation of love, but without saying so directly, he considers it humiliating and shameful even in front of his partner.

speaking of his anxiety, his partner will have a hard time, he is the most anxious partner who will be jealous of every pillar, will constantly write and ask who his partner is with, will constantly suspect infidelity, check the phone for suspicious correspondence and make scandals from scratch.

there is also a theory that namgyu has an avoidant type of attachment, it is difficult for him to get close to people, show his emotions and trust, which is why he does not enter into a relationship in principle, trying to avoid any obligations, responsibilities and the opportunity to get attached, when he wanted to have fun, he met another girl in a club with whom he was rude, animal, dirty sex without any feelings. in the morning, deleting the phone number without giving a chance for something more.

it seems to me that he grew up in a family full of violence and debauchery, even as a child when his mother and father communicated but were not married, his father often came, they drank, smoked and then quarreled, he beat her, they hated each other, he saw it, he grew up in it, he absorbed such an attitude between parents this became one of the reasons for his cruelty and problematic nature, later his mother went into fornication, she began to bring new men to their house, they had fun, had sex, and drank, little namgyu saw all this, he hated her for it, this also became one of the reasons for his consumer attitude towards women.

he does not like to contact people, even though he works in a profession in which communication skills are extremely necessary. he never starts long dialogues with visitors unless they arouse special interest or are beneficial to him. if he is not interested, he shows it with his whole appearance, gaze and actions, he never tries to look interested, which is why he is not very respected at work. if he finds the dialogue not interesting, he will not say a word from himself in an attempt to maintain the dialogue, except for a couple of clear phrases that his work requires of him.

for namgyu, drugs are primarily a way to forget about all his sins, problems, and debts. It is in his hallucinations that he lives happily. before using drugs, he was trying to find himself, something that would save him. he stayed up late at computer clubs, draining money for an extra hour in the game, his hometown club and attempts to forget himself in new acquaintances, alcohol and cigarettes, which to this day help him relax. It was his first time trying drugs with his friends. hallucinogenic trips in which he could stay until morning, complete relaxation and loss of touch with reality, this was what he had been looking for for so long, only this state allowed him to smile and feel in his place.

although namgyu found an outlet in drugs, however, his gambling addiction remained, most likely he would have played some kind of strategic team games in the MOBA genre like dota 2, I'm sure he screams all over the apartment when he is killed or someone else's team demolished their throne.

namgyu prefers sportswear, usually a size or two larger, it seems to me that he would not wear fitted clothes in principle, making a choice towards slightly baggy T-shirts and wide trousers.

I think namgyu would have eating problems, he often has no appetite, which is why he refuses to eat or intentionally does not eat, plus due to drug use and lack of physical activity, the guy has a rather thin build.

he's a misogynist, which is already canon. i think as he gets older, he just gets disillusioned with women. perhaps he liked the girl who rudely and shamefully rejected him and he remembered it forever. Indifferent, strong, wayward and cold women remind him of his mother, which is why he literally wants to kill them so that the metaphorical death of his mother would happen. yes, he won't kill every woman he meets, but passive aggression towards them is clearly present.

edited: part 2

#player 124 x reader #nam gyu squid game #nam gyu x reader #i love namgyu #namgyu x reader #nam gyu #player 124 #124 #roh jae won #roh #headcanon #headcannons #squid game #bad english #love you guys

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