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Thick Thighs Save Lives
Day 15 → Thigh Riding 💋 Max Verstappen
Warnings: 18+ content
Kinktober Masterlist
“You okay?” Max’s voice cuts through your haze, pulling you back to reality. You blink twice, realizing you’ve been staring — no, more like ogling — at the man standing in front of you.
You cough, trying to play it off. “What? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Your voice cracks, and you hate it. You’re not convincing anyone, least of all yourself.
Max tilts his head, concern flickering in those blue eyes. “You sure?” His Dutch accent is thicker when he’s confused, or worried. Right now, you think it’s both. “You look … distracted.”
Distracted. That’s an understatement. But what are you supposed to say? Sorry, babe, I overheard some fans talking about your thighs, and now I can’t stop imagining what it would be like to-
Nope. Not happening.
Instead, you shake your head too quickly, like that’ll fix the mess in your brain. “Just … hungry, maybe,” you mumble, though you know hunger isn’t exactly what’s going on.
Max gives you a sideways look, one eyebrow raised. “Hungry?” He repeats, not buying it for a second. You can tell by the way his lips twitch into that small, knowing smirk of his.
“Yeah, hungry,” you lie again, pulling at the sleeves of your jacket like it’s suddenly too tight, or too hot, or both. “Long day, y’know?” You hope the vague excuse will get him to drop it. You’re begging the universe for mercy at this point.
But Max isn’t one to let things slide, especially when it comes to you. He steps closer, and now, all you can think about is the fact that the fans weren’t wrong. His thighs really are massive — like, practically sculpted by the gods or something.
You can’t stop your eyes from flicking down for half a second. You catch yourself just in time, but Max catches you too.
“You’re acting weird,” he says, and there’s a teasing lilt in his voice now. He’s grinning, and you hate that he’s grinning, because it means he knows something’s up. “Did something happen?”
“No,” you blurt out. Too fast. Way too fast. You force a smile, trying to steer the conversation somewhere — anywhere — else. “I’m just, uh, thinking about … qualifying! Yeah, qualifying. How’s the car?”
Max’s grin softens into something more genuine, like he’s willing to play along for now. “The car’s good. Feels fast. We’ll see.” He shrugs, his eyes still studying you, probably wondering what the hell is actually going on in that head of yours.
“That’s good,” you say, nodding like an idiot. “That’s great. Fast is great.”
Max laughs, shaking his head. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” He leans in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “What’s really going on? You never look this … distracted.”
You swallow hard, heat rising to your face. Damn it, he’s not going to let this go. Your mind is racing, trying to come up with something, anything, that sounds remotely believable. “I told you,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “I’m just hungry.”
“Uh-huh,” Max says, clearly not convinced. He crosses his arms over his chest, which only draws your attention back to his entire … well, everything. You try not to look, but your eyes have a mind of their own.
For a second, you’re sure he’s going to press further, but then someone calls his name from across the paddock. It’s one of the engineers, probably needing him back before qualifying starts. Max looks over his shoulder and gives a nod before turning back to you.
“I gotta go,” he says, still watching you carefully, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle that doesn’t make any sense. “But we’re talking about this later.”
You nod, thankful that the conversation is ending before you dig yourself into a deeper hole. “Yeah, sure, later.”
Max looks at you for a second longer, his eyes narrowing in that way he does when he’s thinking, really thinking. Then he gives you a quick smile, one of those small, private ones that’s just for you. “Take care of yourself,” he says, his voice soft but insistent.
“I will,” you reply, managing to sound more normal than you feel. “Good luck out there.”
“Thanks,” he says, turning to walk away, and that’s when it happens.
Your eyes, without your permission, drift downward again. His back is to you now, his long strides taking him toward the garage, and it’s impossible not to notice the way his legs move.
His thighs — God, those thighs — are straining against the fabric of his race suit. It’s like every muscle is defined, every step making them flex in a way that you’re suddenly very, very aware of.
And it’s not just the size. It’s the power behind them, the way you know he’s spent years building that kind of strength, how it’s the kind of thing you only really notice when you’re close to him, or, in your case, when you’ve been thinking about it all day because some fans pointed it out, and now it’s all you can think about.
You bite your lip, trying not to make a sound. Your heart is racing, and your palms are starting to sweat, and all you can focus on is the way his legs look as he moves further away from you.
You should be ashamed of yourself. You are ashamed of yourself. This is ridiculous, and yet …
Max stops halfway to the garage and glances back over his shoulder, probably to check if you’re still watching. You quickly snap your gaze upward, hoping he doesn’t catch you staring again. But it’s too late — there’s that grin on his face, the one that says he knows exactly what’s going on.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.
You nod, managing a weak smile. “Yeah,” you lie again. “I’m fine.”
Max shakes his head, clearly not buying it, but he doesn’t press any further. He gives you one last look before heading back toward the garage, and as he disappears inside, you let out a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
You’re still staring at the spot where he disappeared, and without even thinking about it, you run your tongue over your bottom lip.
You can’t help it. You’re salivating.
You’re only human, after all, and some temptations are impossible to resist.
***
The hotel room is quiet, except for the sound of the zipper on Max’s backpack as he tosses it aside. It’s late, the race adrenaline slowly wearing off, but you’re both still buzzing with energy. Max is already getting undressed, down to just his Red Bull t-shirt and those jeans that hug his body like a second skin.
You’re barely paying attention to what you’re doing, hands fumbling with the buttons of your own shirt, your mind somewhere far away. Or maybe not that far. Maybe your mind is right where it’s been for the past thirty-two hours — on him. Specifically, on those damn thighs.
Max turns his back to you for a moment, pulling his shirt over his head, and when he faces you again, you’re frozen, mid-button, staring. His thighs strain against his jeans, the fabric pulled taut around them as he shifts his weight.
You know you should keep undressing, keep moving, but you can’t. All thoughts leave your mind, replaced with the memory of the way they looked under his race suit, the way they flexed as he walked, the way-
“You’re staring again.”
His voice is low, teasing, and it snaps you out of your trance. You blink, cheeks burning, and quickly look away, but it’s too late. Max has already caught you, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he moves closer.
“Seriously, what’s going on?” He’s standing right in front of you now, his eyes searching yours, but he already knows. Of course he does. The way he’s grinning tells you that much. “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday.”
You swallow hard, trying to find some way out of this, some excuse, but nothing comes. He’s so close, close enough that you can smell the faint traces of his cologne, feel the heat radiating off his skin, and all you can think about are those jeans, how tight they are around his legs, how-
Max reaches out, gently tipping your chin up so you have to meet his gaze. “You can tell me,” he says, his voice soft now, almost coaxing. “What’s got you all flustered, hmm?”
You can’t look away. He’s too close, too knowing, and suddenly, you feel like you’re caught in a trap. Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. What are you supposed to say? That his thighs are all you’ve been able to think about? That the way they look in his jeans is driving you crazy?
Max’s eyes flicker down, and you know he’s noticed where your gaze keeps drifting. His smirk deepens, and when he speaks again, his voice has dropped, taking on a huskier tone. “Ah. I see.”
Your breath catches in your throat. He knows. Of course he knows. You feel your heart start to race, and suddenly, the room feels too small, too hot.
Max steps even closer, his hand sliding from your chin to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “Why didn’t you just say so?” He murmurs, his eyes dark and intent, like he’s got you exactly where he wants you. “I would’ve taken care of you sooner.”
You bite your lip, trying to keep some semblance of composure, but it’s no use. Max is looking at you like he knows exactly what you need, and worse — he’s right. He moves his hand to the small of your back, guiding you toward the bed, and you follow, unable to resist.
When you reach the edge of the bed, Max sits, his legs spread slightly apart, and you’re left standing there, feeling like the world’s worst combination of flustered and exposed. He’s still in his jeans, the denim pulled tight over his thighs, and your eyes are immediately drawn to them again. You don’t even try to hide it this time.
Max chuckles, low and deep. “Come here,” he says, his voice a command wrapped in a velvet whisper.
Your feet move before your brain can catch up. You step between his legs, heart pounding in your chest, and Max’s hands find your hips, pulling you down until you’re straddling his thigh. The moment you make contact, your breath hitches, your body reacting to the firm pressure beneath you.
“See?” Max murmurs, his hands sliding up to your waist, his touch gentle but insistent. “This is what you needed, isn’t it?”
You can’t answer, can’t find the words. All you can do is nod, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance as you shift on his thigh. The friction is immediate, electric, sending a shockwave through your body. You gasp, and Max’s grip tightens.
“Yeah,” he breathes, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s it. Just like that.”
His hands guide your hips, slow at first, drawing out the movement, letting you feel every inch of him beneath you. The rough fabric of his jeans rubs against you, the friction unlike anything you’ve felt before. It’s overwhelming, almost too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you want, what you need.
Max watches you, his eyes dark and hungry as you move against him, your breaths coming faster, more ragged. He knows what he’s doing, knows exactly how to drive you crazy, and he’s taking his time, savoring every second of it.
“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” He whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. At my legs. You couldn’t stop, could you?”
You shake your head, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words. The heat between your legs is building, and every time you shift, every time you drag yourself over the firm muscle of his thigh, it sends a pulse of pleasure through you.
Max grins, his hands tightening on your waist, guiding you faster now, urging you on. “I knew it,” he says, his voice low and full of satisfaction. “You just needed this. You needed me.”
You moan softly, your head falling forward against his shoulder as the pressure builds, your body practically trembling from the intensity of it. Max’s grip on you never wavers, his hands controlling the rhythm, keeping you exactly where he wants you.
“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
You can’t hold back anymore. The tension in your body snaps, and you cry out softly, your hips bucking against his thigh as the pleasure overtakes you. Max holds you steady, his hands firm on your waist, grounding you as wave after wave of sensation crashes over you.
When it’s over, you’re left breathless, slumped against him, your body trembling in the aftermath. Max’s hands slide up and down your back, soothing, gentle, as he waits for you to catch your breath.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of warmth. “You did so well.”
You don’t have the energy to respond, your head still spinning from the intensity of it all. But then, as the haze begins to clear, you feel something — wetness — on the denim covering his thigh. You pull back slightly, your face flushing with embarrassment as you realize what you’ve done.
Max just chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Don’t worry,” he says, his voice full of mischief. “I don’t mind.”
You bury your face in his chest, mortified, but Max’s arms come around you, holding you close, his laugh rumbling through his body.
“I told you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your hair. “I know exactly what you need.”
***
The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the hotel suite. You stir in bed, slowly coming to consciousness, a vague sense of discomfort pulling you from sleep.
For a moment, you’re content to stay buried under the sheets, your body heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction from the night before. But then the feeling sharpens — a tenderness, right between your legs. You shift, and the soreness becomes more pronounced.
Your eyes snap open. Oh.
The friction from last night, the way you rode Max’s thigh with reckless abandon, comes back to you in vivid, heated flashes. You groan, face half-buried in the pillow, not from embarrassment this time but from the distinct ache you feel in your most sensitive spot. Your poor bundle of nerves, now sore, throbs slightly when you shift your legs.
You turn your head to glance at Max. He’s already awake, leaning back against the headboard, scrolling through something on his phone, his hair still a mess from sleep. He looks over at you when he notices you stirring, his mouth curling into a soft smile. “Morning.”
“Morning,” you mumble, voice still thick with sleep. You shift under the covers again, wincing as the soreness flares once more. You press your legs together instinctively, hoping it will somehow dull the ache.
Max’s brow furrows. “You alright?”
You pause for a second, debating how much you actually want to admit. But the soreness isn’t something you can brush off, not when every slight movement reminds you of it. You let out a small sigh and tilt your head to look at him.
“I’m … sore,” you admit, biting your lip. “Really sore.”
Max’s lips twitch, a hint of amusement lighting his eyes. “Sore where?”
You give him a look, half-exasperated, half-embarrassed. “You know where,” you grumble.
He chuckles softly, setting his phone down on the nightstand. “I might need a little more detail. I’m a driver, not a mind reader.”
You can’t help but laugh, though it’s mixed with a groan as you shift your hips again. “You know,” you mutter, avoiding his eyes. “There.”
Max raises an eyebrow, still amused, but then his expression softens with concern. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” you say quickly, wanting to reassure him. “It’s not that. I guess I just … overdid it. Denim can be rough.”
Max nods, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Wait here,” he says, sliding out of bed with the ease of someone who’s used to early mornings and late nights in uncomfortable places. You watch as he rummages through his luggage on the floor, tossing aside various items before pulling out a small tube of ointment.
“What’s that?” You ask, propping yourself up on one elbow.
Max returns to the bed, sitting on the edge. “This? It’s some kind of cream I used for a cut I had a while back.” He holds up the tube for you to see, the words on it clearly medicinal. “I think it might help.”
You hesitate, unsure. The idea of Max applying anything down there is both intimate and a little embarrassing. But the soreness is getting worse, and the thought of relief is too tempting to ignore.
“You trust me?” Max asks softly, his eyes locking with yours.
You nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I do.”
Max smiles at that, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before squeezing a small amount of the ointment onto his fingers. “Let’s take care of you, then.”
You shift slightly on the bed, opening your legs a little to give him room. Your breath hitches as he moves closer, his touch gentle and careful. His hand slips beneath the covers, fingers finding the tender spot with a sensitivity that makes you melt.
“You sure this is okay?” He murmurs, his gaze flicking to yours for reassurance.
“It’s fine,” you whisper, though the feel of his fingers, even in this innocent context, has your pulse racing.
Max is slow, deliberate, applying the ointment with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. His touch is cool at first, but then the warmth from his skin mixes with the soothing sensation of the ointment, and your body starts to relax. The ache begins to ebb away, replaced by a gentle, comforting warmth.
“Better?” He asks after a few moments, his voice low, almost a whisper.
You can only nod, your eyes fluttering shut as the tension leaves your body. But it’s not just the relief from the soreness that’s making you feel this way. It’s the way Max is touching you — careful, considerate, and yet undeniably intimate. You hadn’t expected something as simple as this to feel so … intense.
Max’s fingers continue their slow, deliberate movements, his eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, though his voice is huskier now, like he knows stopping isn’t something you’re going to ask for.
Your breath catches in your throat as he presses a little more firmly, the friction now bordering on something else entirely. The tenderness is still there, but now, so is something deeper, something stirring inside you that you can’t ignore.
“Max …” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly.
He doesn’t respond with words, just a small smile as his thumb grazes over your clit, drawing a soft gasp from your lips. He’s not trying to push you, not really, but his touch is becoming more deliberate, more focused.
And you’re unraveling.
The gentle pressure of his fingers, the slow circles he’s tracing, the way he’s watching you so intently — it’s all too much, and yet not enough at the same time. You shift your hips, instinctively seeking more, and Max’s eyes darken as he registers your need.
“You’re so sensitive,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the same spot again, drawing another gasp from you. “Does it feel good?”
You nod, unable to find the words. Your body is responding without permission, a slow burn building in your core, the ache from earlier completely forgotten now. It’s been replaced by something else — something hot and electric, coursing through you with every touch.
Max leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me what you need.”
You can barely think straight, let alone articulate what you need, but you manage a breathless, “More.”
His fingers move with more purpose now, pressing harder, rubbing in just the right way that makes your body arch toward him, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is almost overwhelming, the pleasure mixing with the relief, and you feel like you’re coming undone in his hands.
Max watches you, his eyes dark and intense, clearly enjoying the way you’re responding to him. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. “Just let go.”
And you do. You let go of the last bit of restraint you’ve been holding onto, your body trembling as the tension builds higher and higher. Max’s hand never falters, his touch steady, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge.
You’re breathing faster now, your heart racing in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling low in your belly, spreading through your body like wildfire. It’s too much, too intense, and yet you need it, need him.
“Max,” you gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets as the pleasure surges through you. “I’m-”
“I know,” he whispers, his thumb pressing down just right, and it’s all it takes to send you spiraling.
Your body clenches, the release crashing over you in waves as you cry out, your hips bucking against his hand. Max holds you through it, his fingers never stopping, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you’re left trembling, your body spent and your mind blissfully blank.
When it’s over, you collapse against the pillows, panting, your heart still pounding in your chest. Max pulls his hand away, careful and gentle, and leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
“How do you feel now?” He asks, his voice full of warmth and affection.
You manage a weak smile, still catching your breath. “Better. Much better.”
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ghosts, ghouls, goblins, and other things that go bump in the night!
pair: logan howlett x fem!reader
wc: 4.5k
contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, drinking, resident bestie diva wade wilson, matching costumes ofc, established relationship, p in v, semi-public sex (bathroom), rough sex, mirror sex, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, light degradation, light hair pulling, light choking, nasty dirty breeding kink (@guiltyasdave infected me with the breeding kink disease...it's all her fault), 4k words for straight up porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.
nat’s note: happy halloween! sort of...i obvi couldn't wait to post this until the actual day cause i have absolutely zero patience so here you go! i thought up this idea in the middle of the night and literally got out of bed to start it. it's a nasty self indulgent mess...hope you love it! kisses <3
cutie divider by icon @saradika-graphics!
you and logan have some fun at wade's halloween party...
Unsurprising to no one, Wade Wilson knows how to throw a party.
Every year since the two of you became neighbors, you’ve gotten a gaudy invitation decorated with cartoon bats and devils slipped under your door just in time for Halloween.
Of course, it’s always in some cheesy font, red and glittery. A crappy pun about “scaring up some fun with your favorite mercenary” with a return address listed as ‘Hell’s Playground’ inscribed on the front.
It's awful. You haven’t missed one yet.
And not just because you’re a sucker for free booze and cheap decorations. It’s like tradition now, you can't have your perfect attendance streak cut off four years in. That's just bad manners.
Besides, this is the first year you’ve gotten to do a couples costume.
“I look fuckin’ ridiculous,��� Logan mutters, deep voice laced with irritation as he messes with the wolf ears perched awkwardly on his head. “Can’t believe I let you drag me to this thing.”
You don’t turn to face him, but you can still see the frown tugging his lips down in your mind. Logan’s never been one for costumes, but his options were either dress up or stay home while you went and had fun without him.
He was dead set on staying at home for most of the day.
One look at the frilly white bloomers that came with your costume and he changed his tune.
“Quit being such a baby,” you toss over your shoulder, pouring your second cup of whatever Wade mixed together in the mini cauldron sitting on his bar. “You look great, babe.”
He really shouldn’t complain, his costume is barely a costume. An old flannel with the sleeves ripped off and some mangy jeans.
The fake ears and tail were a struggle and a half to get him on board with, but Logan’s all bark and no bite. He was more than willing to roll over and show you his belly after enough begging.
Logan scoffs, big hand pawing at your hip to drag you to his side. “You owe me for this,” he rumbles low in your ear, the playful threat sending a shiver down your spine.
“You’ll survive,” you tease, a smug grin spreading across your face as you tug playfully on the tail clipped to his belt loop. “Unless you wanted to switch?”
Logan’s eyes drag over your body shamelessly, all the way from the floppy sheep ears sitting on your head to the lacy white corset and matching bloomers that do little to hide your curves.
You don’t miss the way his eyes darken, how he runs his tongue along the sharp point of his canines like he wants to sink his teeth into you.
It sends a familiar heat coursing through your veins, warming your insides just as much as the vodka with a hint of mixer you’ve been sipping at.
You start to wish you shelled out for the fake fangs at the party store.
Logan tugs you closer, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smirk. “Not a chance in hell,” he rasps, voice dipping a couple octaves lower. “Looks better on you, baby.”
You hum idly as his arm snakes around your waist, fingers splayed along your lower back, inching dangerously close to the swell of your ass.
“You better behave,” you chastise, though it’s more playful than stern as you look up at him through your lashes. “We’re in public.”
Logan’s grip tightens, a soft grunt leaving him as he leans in, nosing along the side of your face. “Doesn’t seem like much of a party when all I’m thinkin’ about is how fast I can get you outta this damn costume.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks, the warm puff of his breath over your skin makes your knees feel weak. You try to keep your cool, but it’s hard when he’s practically radiating heat and that intoxicating scent of leather and pine fills your senses.
Before you can respond, a loud call of your name grabs your attention.
"There you are!" Wade shouts from across the room, already making his way towards you.
All six foot two and half inches of him is wrapped in blue and white lace, paired with a matching hoop skirt that bounces with every step he takes. His shepherd's staff thuds against the floor when he comes to a stop in front of you. “Fashionably late, I see.”
“We’ve been here for thirty minutes,” you point out, brow cocked as you take in his costume. “Where’ve you been?”
“I’m the hostess with the mostest, honey bunny,” he says, throwing his arm out to gesture towards all the dressed up guests crammed into his living room. “Can’t spread myself too thin.”
He eyes Logan's wolf ears and fake tail, then turns back to you, wiggling his brows suggestively.
"Kinky,” he comments, flicking the little gold bell hanging from the choker around your neck. “You two just couldn’t resist a little predator-prey roleplay, huh? Should I be worried about you getting all ‘Animal Planet’ on my couch?”
Logan’s grip on your waist tightens, his mouth brushing your ear as he mutters, “I’m gonna kill him before midnight.”
“Now, now, big bad wolf, no need to huff and puff and blow my skirt up. We’re all here to have a howl of a time!” Wade continues, undeterred. “Plus, if you behave, I might just let you keep your sheep when the night’s over.”
You can practically feel Logan’s eye twitch, but you snicker, leaning into him just a little more. “Play nice, Wade,” you say, trying to smother your laugh. “The wolf might eat you first.”
“Please,’ Wade snorts, twirling his shepherd's staff deftly in his hand. “If that’s on the table, I’ll lay out the fucking fine china.”
Logan lets out a huff of air, dropping his hold on you and brushing past Wade with a grunt. "I'm gettin' another beer."
“Try not to stab anyone!” Wade shouts after him, loud enough to be heard over the Monster Mash blaring from the speakers. “Al might blow the whole complex if any more blood gets on the linoleum!”
Logan throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he disappears into the kitchen.
You watch him go, a grin plastered to your face at the way the tail swings with every step he takes. Something warm and fuzzy settles in your chest, blooming in the empty space of your ribcage.
You know Logan hates this–the people, the lights, the music, the costumes.
But he’s here anyway, for you.
Here wearing the stupid wolf costume you bought for him, surrounded by drunk people in inflatable dinosaur costumes and witches with dollar-store broomsticks. And despite all the grumbling, he hasn’t bolted for the door once.
All for you. And that makes your heart thump a little harder in your chest, your smirk softening into something sweeter.
"You’ve got him whipped," Wade deadpans, crossing his arms, the lace of his sleeves rustling as he does. “It’s really disgusting.”
You snort, shaking your head softly. "More like he's got a soft spot."
Wade eyes you skeptically. "Same thing, toots."
You hum noncommittally, turning back to him. “Cute outfit,” you comment, eyeing the white bonnet secured by a neat little bow under his chin.
“You like it?” Wade does a quick twirl, the blonde curls of his wig nearly slap you across the face as he does. “The guy at party city kept giving me weird looks, but I think he was just jealous of how well I fill in the blouse.”
You rake your gaze over him slowly, taking another slow sip from your cup. “The stockings are a nice touch, but don’t you think running around as Little Bo Peep will send some confusing messages.”
“Well, duh. That’s only the whole point, Sherlock.” Wade snorts, shaking his head like it’s obvious. “I’m way too emotionally invested in this relationship to not try and wiggle my way into throuple territory.”
You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. “A throuple? Hate to break it to you, Peep, but Logan doesn’t really strike me as the sharing type.”
Wade leans in conspiratorially, cupping a hand around his mouth like he’s letting you in on a secret. “That’s why I’m playing the long game. Gotta wear him down with my irresistible charm, and when he finally snaps, I’ll swoop in with a bottle of Jack and a promise of no strings attached.”
You shake your head, chuckling into your drink. “You’ve got it all figured out, don't you?”
“Oh, honey,” Wade purrs, winking at you with a dramatic flutter of his lashes, “I've got a five-year plan.”
You roll your head to the side lazily, sheep ears swaying as you do. “I’ll give you points for persistence.”
"Damn straight," he says with a grin, straightening his bonnet proudly. “This level of commitment takes stamina. And by the way, I’ve got great stamina. My record is thirteen.”
You raise your brow, intrigued. “Thirteen what? Rounds? Hours?”
“Wouldn't you like to know,” he scoffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. “I’m more than just a pretty face in a killer dress, thank you very much.”
You groan, giving him a light push. "You’re impossible."
Wade grins, leaning closer to throw an arm around your shoulders. “I’m just pulling your tail, Wooly. You know I’d never come between you and your beefy boy toy. I mean, look at him. He’s practically pacing the kitchen like a caged animal just looking at you in your slutty nursery rhyme getup. How pathetic.”
You turn to steal a glance at Logan, who’s leaned against the counter scanning the room from behind his beer bottle. You feel a thrill at the idea that he’s watching over you like a hawk, making sure no one gets too close, slowly working himself up over the mere sight of you.
But more than that, it’s the slight reluctant smirk tugging at his lips as he takes in the party. You can tell he’s managing to find some enjoyment in all this, even if he’d never admit it.
“Well,” Wade starts, dragging the word out slowly. “Since you’re all cozy over here with your alpha male, I’m gonna go find someone to share these…”
He holds up two shot glasses filled with some unidentifiable neon liquid, “…artisanal beverages with. Maybe that guy dressed like a merman. I’ve always wanted to see what's going on under those tails.”
You snort, raising your own cup to your lips. "You're awful."
“Only on the outside, sugar,” he says leaning down to kiss your cheek with a wet smack before flouncing away into the crowd, his skirt swishing as he goes. “Don’t fuck in my house without at least inviting me to watch!”
You laugh to yourself, watching as Wade fades into the crowd of gyrating bodies. You take another long sip, relishing in the familiar burn as it slips down your throat.
The laughter, the music, the chaotic energy of the party—it’s all intoxicating in its own right, but it’s nothing compared to the way Logan’s eyes are boring a hole through the back of your head.
You can feel his gaze like a tangible force, wrapping around you and drawing you in. Logan’s not just watching; he’s assessing, hungry for something that goes far beyond the Halloween festivities surrounding you.
The heat radiating from his gaze only intensifies your already buzzing anticipation, mixing dangerously with the two drinks swirling in your stomach, making you bolder.
You throw back the rest of your drink, setting the empty cup on the bar and making your way across the room. You weave through the crowd seamlessly, the music pulses around you, drowning out the laughter and chatter.
You feel a daring grin spread across your face as you saunter closer, reveling in the way Logan tracks your every move like a predator zeroing in on its prey.
When you’re finally standing in front of him, you lean against the counter, giving him a good view of the way your corset dips lower. The fabric hugs you in all the right places, teasing him with glimpses of your skin beneath the delicate lace.
"Looks like Little Bo Peep lost his sheep," he mutters, voice like gravel drenched in honey.
You smirk, tilting your head to the side innocently as you step around the counter. “Maybe I was already planning to run away, to go looking for a big bad wolf to play with.”
You slip two fingers through the belt loop at the front of his jeans, tugging him closer with a rough yank.
Logan’s goes willingly, taking a step closer. His breath hitches as he does, the hazel of his eyes darkening as you press your body against his, not letting an inch of space between you.
“You're really pushin it,” he warns lowly, hands finding your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to send a shiver cascading down your spine. "Makin’ me watch you run around in this fuckin’ thing.”
“Am I?” you reply coyly, fingers toying with the button of his jeans. “I’m just—” you start, but the words are swallowed by the thumping bass of the music as Logan’s lips crash against yours, silencing you with a hungry kiss.
His mouth moves against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless, and you can’t help but melt into him, feeling the world around you fade away.
The taste of beer mingles with the vodka on your tongue as you sink into the kiss, his hands tightening around you as he pulls you even closer.
“You have no fuckin’ idea how hard it is keepin’ my hands to myself,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy.
“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you tease, biting your lip as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze. You can see the fire smoldering in his eyes, the predatory glint that makes your stomach flutter with excitement. “But maybe you could show me just how hard it really is.”
Logan lets out a low growl, and before you can blink, he’s snatching your wrist up and dragging you through the kitchen.
Laughter bubbles out from your chest as you trip over your own feet in an attempt to keep up with him. Adrenaline pulses through your veins, the warmth in your stomach dipping lower to leak sticky and wet between your thighs.
He’s not rushing, but there’s an undeniable urgency in his step, a raw need that makes your pulse race in sync with his heavy stride. Weaving you through the crowd and out into the hallway until the noise of the party gets lower and lower.
You’re familiar enough with the layout of Wade’s place to know where Logan’s taking you, the bathroom.
The door is hardly shut before Logan’s spinning you around and crowding you against the sink. His lips are on you before you can even catch your breath, rough and possessive, as if he’s been starving for this all night.
The kiss is rougher than before, dirty and all consuming as he claims your mouth. A mess of teeth and tongue and spit that sends your head spinning, body arching off the counter and into his instinctively.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growls, trailing his lips down your neck, kissing and biting his way to your collarbone. “Drivin’ me so crazy, baby.”
You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as his calloused fingers trace over the swell of your breasts, kneading the soft flesh with a possessive grip that makes your breath hitch.
Your arms circle his neck, dragging him down for more filthy kisses. The thick length of his cock pressing against your stomach insistently has you keening, a hard plane of scalding warmth even through the thick material of his jeans.
You let out a soft whimper as his fingers brush against your inner thigh, and he grins at your reaction.
He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "Bet you’re already soaked for me, aren’t you?" His voice drops even lower, a filthy rasp that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.
You don’t answer, can’t answer, because Logan’s already got his hand between your thighs, fingers teasing over the soft fabric of your bloomers.
His touch is feather-light, but it’s enough to have you gasping, head lolling back to expose even more of your neck to his fever hot lips.
He groans when he feels how soaked you are, his breath coming out in a rough exhale.
“Figures,” he grunts, his fingers pressing harder, rubbing slow circles over the slick fabric. “Could smell it on you from across the room. You’re fuckin’ drippin’ for me, baby.”
You whine, high in the back of your throat, chest heaving with every quick breath. Your legs spread, thighs widening like you can’t help it. His words send a wave of heat straight to your core, fanning the fire of need festering inside you.
“Next year we’ll get you in a skirt,” he says, nipping at your bottom lip teasingly. His fingers slip under your bloomers, running through your slick folds teasingly. “Easy access.”
You let out a breathless moan, your hips bucking against his hand, begging for more.
“Logan,” you whimper, but he just smirks, applying more pressure with his palm as he leans in closer, his mouth hovering over your ear.
“You like that, don’t you?” Logan rasps, his voice thick with desire. Dark tone laced with satisfaction as he dips one finger inside you, making your breath catch in your throat. “Look at you, drippin’ down my hand. You want more, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you nod frantically, your breath coming in shallow pants as he continues working you with skilled, relentless touches.
Two thick fingers plunged in your aching pussy, his thumb rubbing over your swollen clit. "Please," you whimper, gripping the edge of the sink so tight your knuckles turn with it, needing more, needing him to ruin you.
“Please what, honey?” he rasps, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You gotta be more specific.”
You grind against his hand faster, desperate for any kind of relief from the unbearable heat building between your legs. “I need you,” you breathe out, your voice trembling. “Need you to fuck me.”
Logan’s response is immediate. A low growl tearing its way from his throat as he gives your bottoms a rough tug, letting them fall down the length of your legs to pool at your ankles.
He slips his fingers out of you, ignoring your displeased whine and spinning you around to face the mirror, hands gripping your hips as he roughly bends you over the sink.
You find his eyes in the reflection, and the hunger there makes your pulse quicken. His lips are swollen, red and slick just like your own. Hazel eyes blown out and stormy, as he meets your gaze.
The fake whiskers and nose you drew on him before the party using an old eyeliner pen are smudged across the lower half of his face along with the red remnants of your lipstick. You have matching black marks scuffed along your cheeks.
"You’re gonna watch while I fuck you," he growls, popping the button of his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free his cock. He strokes himself once, twice, before lining up behind you, dragging the blunt head along your soaked entrance. "Don’t take your eyes off the mirror, baby. I want you to see what you do to me, what I get to see every fuckin’ time."
You nod breathlessly, eyes locked on his in the mirror as he pushes into you with one hard thrust. You gasp at the stretch, head falling to your chin at the pleasant burn of his cock.
"Fuck," Logan groans, his eyes glued to your reflection as he bottoms out inside you, the sheer size of him making your body tremble.
"Tight little fuckin’ pussy," he mutters, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to move, setting a brutal, unrelenting pace. "You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take my cock."
You can’t stop the moans that fall from your slack lips, pathetic little uh uh uh sounds that get punched out of you with every sharp thrust of his hips.
“Take me so fuckin’ well,” he growls, one hand coming up to grip around your throat, tugging meanly at the bell of your choker that rings as he pounds into you, each thrust harder than the last. “Such a good little sheep, lettin’ your mean old wolf fuck you like this.”
"Fuck," you moan, the sound broken and desperate as he drives deeper, the thick length of him hitting that spot that has your knees buckling beneath you. “God, Logan…”
“Look,” Logan commands softly, reverently. His lips brushing your shoulder with every word as he tilts your head back up to the mirror, making yourself watch as you take his cock. “Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are getting wrecked on my cock.”
Your reflection in the mirror is a mess—flushed cheeks, eyes glassy with lust, your lips parted in a constant stream of breathless moans. You feel embarrassment mixing with the arousal swirling through your stomach, thighs shaking wildly from the onslaught of pleasure.
The loud slap of skin on skin rings through the tiny bathroom, underscored by the wet gush of your pussy around him each time he buries himself in you.
If anyone were to walk by, they’d surely hear it. They’d know someone was getting fucked, really taking it. The thought alone has you tightening around Logan’s cock, velvety walls clenching around him desperately.
Logan notices, because of course he does, clever eyes picking up on the way your own drift to the door, lingering.
He threads his fingers through your hair, meanly yanking your head back to the mirror, a feral grin stretching across his face as he watches the way you fall apart for him.
“Want me to howl for you, baby?” he teases, breath hot against the shell of your ear. You can feel the way his lips curve into an evil grin at the pathetic whine that bursts from your lips, at the feel of your pussy drooling around him even more than before.
“She likes that, huh?” he chuckles darkly, his thumb finds your throbbing clit, rubbing tight circles as his hips speed up impossibly faster. “Dirty fuckin’ girl, you want everyone to know how good I’m givin’ it to you?”
You whimper, overwhelmed by the raw intensity of his words and the rhythm of his thrusts. Your thighs are trembling, barely able to hold you up as Logan takes you apart, piece by piece, with every deep, punishing stroke.
"Answer me," he growls, voice dripping with dominance as his hips snap against you, the head of his cock slamming into that perfect spot inside you again and again. "You want everyone to hear what a dirty little slut you are for me, huh? You want them to know how much you love being fucked like this?"
“Yes,” you gasp, your voice shaky and breathless as pleasure floods your system. "Yes, Logan, fuck—ah! Just—just don’t stop."
Logan growls, low and feral deep in his chest. It shakes through your body, rattling your bones just as much as the heavy smack of his metal laced pelvis against the raw skin of your ass.
“Greedy fuckin’ pussy, I can feel the way she’s sucking me in, baby,” he grits out, hips stuttering slightly. “She want my come, darlin’?"
You’re a mess of gasps and whimpers, nodding frantically as his words push you closer to the edge. Throwing your hips back to meet his thrusts as the spring inside you coils tighter and tighter, a hair's breadth away from snapping.
"Yes, please, Logan," you moan, your fingers digging into the counter as you brace yourself for the relentless onslaught of his cock. "I want it, want you to come inside me."
Logan’s hips stutter as he slams into you, his cock buried so deep inside you it feels like he’s splitting you in half. He’s close, his breath coming out in ragged pants as his hand tightens around your throat, fingers pressing against your pulse just hard enough to make you dizzy.
“You’re gonna come for me,” he growls, heavy balls slapping against your ass lewdly. “Gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you? And then I’m gonna fill you up. Gonna fuck my come so deep inside you, you’ll be beggin’ me to give you more.”
That’s all it takes for the coil in your belly to snap, pleasure surging through you in hot, uncontrollable waves. You cry out, your vision blurring as your body clenches around him, and Logan lets out a rough growl, driving into you harder, faster.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, dragging out every last second of your orgasm until you’re shaking, your voice hoarse from how loud you’re moaning.
“Goddamn, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust as he keeps fucking into your trembling body. “You’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—gonna come so deep in you.”
Your breath is coming in short, desperate gasps, your entire body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. But Logan isn’t finished. He used the fistful of your hair still trapped in his hand, tugging your head back to meet his wild gaze in the mirror.
“Eyes on me,” he commands, his pace growing erratic. “You want me to fill you up? Want me to come in this tight little pussy?”
“Yes, Logan,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely a whisper. “Please—I need it.”
With a deep, broken groan of your name, Logan slams into you one last time, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, hot and thick. His fingers tighten on your throat, and you moan at the feeling of his cock pulsing, filling you up to the brim.
You can’t stop the whine that falls from your lips at the feel of his come spraying your insides, completely drenching you with it. So much that it just has to take.
A shudder runs through you at the idea, pussy clenching around his spent cock weakly.
Logan sighs contently, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he catches his breath, hands falling to your waist like it's the only anchor keeping him from floating away entirely.
For a moment, the only sounds in the room are your ragged breaths and the faint thump of the music outside bleeding through the walls.
Logan tips his head back up, meeting your hazy eyes in the fogged up glass of the mirror with a shit-eating grin. “Happy fuckin’ Halloween,” he says smugly, dropping a kiss to the sweaty skin of your shoulder.
You huff, rolling your eyes with a reluctant fondness. The thought of walking back out there makes your stomach turn, nerves and arousal churning together at the chance that everyone knows what you two were doing after disappearing for so long.
You only hope the white fabric of your bloomers is good enough at hiding the come already leaking from your pussy.
tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!
#— 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ♡#ᯓ★ 𝐧𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭!#natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words#hehehe#this was literally so fun#happy halloween!#or just happy october if that's more your thing!#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine fic#wolverine smut#x men x reader#x men smut#marvel x reader#marvel smut#mcu x reader#mcu smut
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Hii i hope you’re having a wonderful day/night can i request a mha text fic (wth any guys you can choose how many or who) where they react to react reader having a succubus tattoo like the ones you put on your lower stomach or lower back have a great day/night, don’t forget to eat healthy and drink lots of water, and take a nap too (∗´ര ᎑ ര`∗) (p.s you don’t have to do this btw)
ღYou have a succubus tattoo
ʚCont: suggestive content, gn!reader, swearing
ʚCharacters included: Deku, Bakugou, Todoroki, Kirishima, Denki, Shinsou
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a/n hey babes! thank you for requesting, i hope you're taking care of yourself too <3
#bnha smau#bnha texts#mha smau#mha texts#deku x reader#bnha bakugou#bnha shoto todoroki#mha kirishima#denki x reader#mha shinsou#mha deku#katsuki bakugou#todoroki x reader#kirishima x reader#bnha denki#shinsou x reader#midoriya izuku#bakugou x reader#shoto todoroki#kirishima eijirou#denki kaminari#hitoshi shinsou#izuku midoriya#bakugou katsuki#shoto x reader#bnha eijiro kirishima#mha denki#bnha shinso hitoshi#bnha x reader#mha x reader
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"I Want Your Dad, Too!"
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend's Dad : Day 1
feat. Harwin Strong, Jacaerys Velaryon ᯓ★ You have a problem with your boyfriend's performance in the bedroom. Luckily, his dad is here to teach him a couple of tricks to keep you satisfied!
warnings! : NSFW 18+, modern au, consensual cuckolding, himbo-coded Jace, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, squirting, creampie
ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3
You had a problem. A huge problem.
Well, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t really that big of a problem, but to you, with oh-so-few cares in the world, it was.
Your boyfriend was really bad at fucking.
Like. Really bad.
It was pissing you off. You love Jace, but that man was never going to make you cum.
You had decided that today was the day that you were going to sit down and talk about it with him. You weren’t that shallow that you would break up with him over his lack of skills in the bedroom, but you really couldn’t handle shitty two minute sex for the rest of your life.
You take a deep breath before knocking on his front door.
When the door opens, it’s not Jace who greets you, but his dad.
Harwin Strong stands tall before you in all his glory. The first time you met his dad was only a few weeks after you and Jace started dating, and he was eager to introduce you to his parents. One look at Harwin and you knew instantly why you swooned over Jace the second you met him. Not only was he incredibly handsome, but he was kind, too. From the glimpses of how he was with Jace’s mom Rhaenyra, back when they were together, you could tell that he was a great husband, too.
You would be lying if you didn’t sometimes fantasize it was him fucking you when Jace couldn’t coax an orgasm out of you. There was no doubt that Harwin knew how to make a woman fall apart in pleasure.
“H-hi, Mr. Strong,” you greet him, the embarrassment from your thoughts much more prominent than you wanted to come across. “Is Jace here?”
“Told you to just call me Harwin, love,” his deep voice croons out, a sparkle in his eye and a smile adorning his features. “He’s up in his room, told me you would be coming.”
The way he looks so intently at you causes your cheeks to heat up involuntarily. It’s as if he sees right through you, like he knows exactly the reason why you’re here right now.
“Don’t have too much fun,” he winks at you and pats your shoulder gently as you pass by him up to the familiar path to Jace’s room.
You fan at your cheeks, hoping that Harwin didn’t notice the way heat rose to them, and that Jace won’t notice now as you knock on his door.
It flings open as you’re still knocking, causing you to jump back, startled.
“Babe! Sorry! Thanks for stopping by, I actually had something kinda important to talk to you about.”
“So did I. Do you mind if I go first?” You plop yourself down onto his bed, making yourself comfortable for what you anticipate to be an uncomfortable conversation.
Jace smiles, taking a seat beside you. “’Course not. What did you need?”
You take a deep breath. This was it. You hoped that Jace was receptive to what you were about to tell him. He was always so sweet, not like other guys who got bruised egos and blamed it on women when they couldn’t keep their dicks hard for more than a minute. You didn’t know what you were going to do if Jace didn’t handle it well.
“It’s about, um, our sex life. I didn’t want to bring it up right away because I wasn’t sure if you were just nervous or something, but—” you huff, “—well, I guess to be frank, you’re not really good. Like, you haven’t even made me cum once.”
A blush runs across Jace’s face, and he looks down as he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I-I kinda figured that’s what you wanted to talk about. I also noticed it. It’s why I had my dad answer the door. I asked him if he could help us out. Well, I guess, more like help me out so I can be better. For you.”
You blink.
He blinks.
“O-oh!” You respond. This was quite an unexpected development. “Well, um, what did he say?” You tried not to sound too eager at the proposition.
“I mean, he was like, if you were cool with it, then he was fine with helping. Said something about how I was practically a failure of a boyfriend if I didn’t make you cum every time.” He looks down, avoiding your stare.
“Oh, hon, don’t say that.” You take his cheek in your palm, stroking it with your thumb. “You’re a great boyfriend! You just, well, can use some help in the bedroom.”
He lets out a sigh, and you continue. “This is why honest communication is important, right? I told you my feelings, you told me yours, and no one’s angry! Look at us, we’re doing really well at this couple stuff!”
Jace looks back up at you and smiles. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. So what do you think? Of my dad, ah, demonstrating.”
Your legs practically quiver at the thought of getting fucked by your boyfriend’s dad—in front of him, no less. Jace was practically his dad’s clone. It would be like getting probably fucked by a much more matured and sexually attuned version of your boyfriend.
You gulp, ignoring the wetness between your thighs from your fantasies. “Y-yeah, I think that would really…help our relationship, right?”
He nods, and a silence passes between you two before Jace stands. “Let me go get—”
“No need.”
You both turn to voice to see Harwin standing, arms crossed and leaning in the doorway. “Glad you agreed, love,” Harwin says as he enters the room, closing the door behind him. “Jace has a lot to learn if he wants to keep you around.”
Harwin’s confidence has your pussy clenching in anticipation, and you can feel yourself getting wet just by the way you can imagine how good he’ll be making you feel.
“Have a seat, Jace. I’m going to show you how a man pleasures a woman.”
Jace gulps and nods, his cheeks dusting with a light red color as he takes a seat in his desk chair to let his father share the bed with you.
Harwin’s weight on the bed causes it to dip, and your body instinctively leans into his warmth as he wraps his arms around you.
“First thing you need to do,” Harwin starts, turning himself and you to face Jace, “is foreplay.” His hand drops beneath your skirt, his fingers grazing at your cloth covered pussy. You gasp at the sudden contact, your body arching itself into Harwin’s large chest. “Have you done that before?” Harwin asks, directing his question at Jace.
“I mean, I’ve touched her a little bit—”
“A little bit isn’t gonna cut it.”
Harwin lifts your skirt up so that Jace can see underneath it. Your boyfriend’s eyes widen at the sight of your pussy, practically dripping as Harwin strokes it with his thick fingers.
“See how wet she is?” Jace nods, his face turning even redder than before. Even through the haze of your pleasure, you can see the tent visible in his pants. “Have you ever seen her get that wet before?”
“No,” Jace murmurs, embarrassment evident across his features.
Harwin sighs. “You see, son, women are real delicate.” His fingers pet across your pussy, your arousal drenching your panties. “You need to take your time with them, get them all nice and ready for your cock.” His fingers start to tease at your entrance, your hips bucking up to meet them.
“It may feel good for you,” he continues, “but it won’t feel good for them ’till you can hear them loud and clear down there.” Harwin sticks two fingers inside of you. Your head falls back as you moan, your pussy squelching as Harwin moves his fingers in and out of you. Your wetness coating the entirety of his digits.
He pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the emptiness inside of you.
“Look at that, boy.” Jace leans in real close, eyes unblinking as he observes your arousal across his father’s fingers. “That’s how you know they’re ready.”
“Got it,” Jace nods. You can see him subtly adjusting himself in his seat, no doubt from his cock straining in his pants.
“Y-you can touch yourself if you want to, Jace,” you murmur and his eyes widen, surprised by how you noticed how much he was fighting the urge not to. “If I’m going to be feeling good, I want you to feel good, too.”
Jace’s hand lowers into his pants as Harwin lays you onto your boyfriend’s bed, flat on your back. “Now you’re ready to start fucking her.”
Harwin lowers his pants and underwear in one fell swoop, his hard cock releasing from its confines. As you glance up at his member, you gulp. Harwin is big. You don’t know how the hell that thing is going to fit inside of you.
“Need to lube yourself up before you do so. Her wetness can usually help.” Harwin scoops two fingers inside of you, and you clamp your hands across your mouth to stop yourself from your moan as he does so. You can hear him fist his cock, lathering it up with your wetness before he aligns it with your entrance.
You aren’t even sure if Jace is still watching as Harwin enters you, the heat of the stretch causing you to squeeze your eyes shut tight as his bulbous tip fills you up.
“It’s important to go nice and slowly at first. Get her used to the sensation before you start thrusting like a maniac.”
Harwin slowly, tortuously, inches his way inside of you, up until the base is flush against your entrance.
You finally open your eyes as Harwin fills you up entirely, looking down at the connection. You practically cum from the sight in front of you, the bulge of his cock protruding slightly from the plush of your stomach.
“Once she’s used to your size, you can finally do this.” Harwin pulls his cock out of you before slamming his entire length back in. You let out a noise between a scream and a moan as your back arches and your toes curl, your legs wrapping around Harwin as he begins to thrust in and out of you at a steady but fast pace.
“Oh, fuck,” you can hear Jace mutter from next to you.
As he fucks into you, Harwin moves a hand up to your clit. “You can’t just use your cock,” he explains to Jace. “You need to touch her clit.” As he begins to circle your clit, you moan at the sensation, eyes closing again as you relish in the pleasure.
Jace doesn’t verbally respond, and you can just picture him nodding along with what his dad says.
“This part is extra sensitive. You get this right, you’re guaranteed to make her cum.” Harwin is relentless in his strokes, his thick cock thrusting in and out of you as he fingers your clit simultaneously. The pleasure you’re feeling is something you could’ve only ever dreamed of before, having never even gotten remotely close to an orgasm with Jace or any of your previous boyfriends and flings.
“Fuck,” you hear Harwin mutter under his breath. His body leans down on top of you as his thrusts before even stronger. “This pussy’s so tight, keeps sucking me back in.”
It’s the first time since he stuck his cock into you that Harwin was actually talking to you and not to Jace, the deep gravel of his voice close to your ear causing you to shudder.
“Needed a real man to fuck you, is that right?” His voice is low enough that you’re sure Jace can’t hear it. Besides, you’re sure that he’s too preoccupied with stroking his own cock to listen, anyways.
Bleary eyed, you slowly turn your head towards the side where Jace sits. Just as you predicted, Jace’s hand is fisting his cock at a rapid pace. His head is thrown back, Adam’s apple bobbing as moans leave his lips. You feel heat rising to your cheeks seeing your boyfriend get off from you, until a hand squeezes your cheeks and forces your head forward, where you find yourself staring into Harwin’s eyes.
“He’s not fucking you right now,” he grunts. “Eyes on me, love.”
As he continues to thrust, Harwin places his body entirely on top of yours. Your legs push back, practically falling behind your ears. The loud pap, pap, pap of his skin making contact with yours is one of the loudest sounds in the room, only second to the squelching of your wet pussy as Harwin’s cock enters and leaves you.
Your senses are practically overloaded now, your nails digging into Harwin’s back as his cock fills you up so nicely. He still thumbs at your clit, the pleasure rising until an unfamiliar sensation develops inside of you.
“W-wait!” You cry out to him, “—f-feels weird!”
Harwin grunts, not stopping from his rhythmic thrusts. “You’re about to cum. Don’t worry, go ���head and cum on my cock.”
“No!” You shake your head. “It’s different!” You don’t have any more time to protest as liquid gushes out of you and a scream leaves your lips as you squirt, all across Harwin’s cock and his torso.
“First time squirting and it’s all over your boyfriend’s dad's cock. Dirty girl,” he croons, but you’re barely aware of your surroundings after your orgasm hits you so suddenly.
Your whole body shakes as the clear liquid gushes all around you. Your back arches as far as you think it can go, and Harwin’s hands on your waist are the only things keeping you from collapsing into the mattress. The man fucks into you as you lay limp in his grasp.
His thrusts begin to lose their rhythm as he grunts, and then you feel his cock pulse inside of you. A rush of warm liquid fills you up, an unexpected heat within your system. You groan at the sensation, his cock still hitting parts inside of you that were sensitive after your orgasm.
Once Harwin’s cum spills all inside of you, he slowly pulls out, your pussy clenching around air as the white cum dribbles outside of you, moving down your legs and onto the bed.
“How’s that for a lesson?”
Your head spins to the side as your eyes widen, having forgotten about Jace in the moment of your orgasm. Your boyfriend looks as much of a mess as you do. His curls stick to sweaty forehead, his face red and panting heavily. You can see his cum that spurted onto stomach, and his cock slowly softening after his release.
“R-really good. Informative. Yeah,” he answers breathlessly, chest heaving.
“Glad to hear it.” Harwin rubs your backside, sitting up on the bed. “We’re not done just yet, though. Still need to teach you about aftercare.”
#harwin strong x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#kinktober#kinktober 2024#harwin strong smut#jacaerys velaryon smut#hotd x reader#hotd smut
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Hey!! I love love LOVE your criminal minds content so much, especially the Hotch with unexpected daughter reader. Is there any chance you’re gonna write more for that series? I’d literally take anything, the comfort vibes are off the charts with your works and I need some Hotch comfort. But no worries if not, hope you have a great week <33
thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k
Jack peers at you from over the furthest armrest. “Y/N. Are you grumpy?”
“Do I look grumpy?” you ask.
“Yes.” He pokes his eyebrow. “You do.”
“My face is betraying me then, because I’m not grumpy.”
“Mine does that to me all the time but mom doesn’t believe it.”
You give him a small nudge. “Your mommy probably knows you better than you know yourself, like, knows how you’re feeling before you do.”
“But how does she know?”
“I think it’s because she loves you. She really loves you, babe. You’re lucky.”
“So lucky.” He climbs over the armrest and onto the couch, smiling at you politely, like a friend he’s just found at school.
You try to see the similarities in your faces. He looks more like Haley than he does Aaron. You look more like your mother, too. There are bits of Aaron in both of you, yours not quite as physical —Jack’s tame when it comes to expressing emotion, and you both talk in a measured tone. (Though your tone is coincidence or genetics, but not learned. You’d have to have known him growing up for it to be learned.)
“Did dad tell you what mommy said?” Jack asks.
You glance over his head but see no one. Aaron said he was going to get chips for movie night, and Haley tends to find things to do. “No.”
“It’s a secret.”
“Well, you don’t have to tell me.”
“You can’t tell anyone,” he says.
Your stomach feels not your own. “I won’t,” you promise.
“Mommy says you’re here too much.”
You nod slowly. Jack frowns at you as though waiting for you to be upset, but you’ve suspected she thinks so for a while. It’s not something you blame her for.
Jack watches you.
“Dad got really mad.”
“I’m sorry, Jack. That must’ve been scary.”
Jack drops his face into your arm. “No. Dad doesn’t yell. But he slept in my room with me.”
“Want a hug?” you whisper.
Jack squirms under your arm. You pull him toward you and try to divide your feelings into boxes. Embarrassed and horrified and a little annoyed that Haley thinks you’re here too much. Sad and again embarrassed that Aaron defended you.
This is Haley’s house, and she never signed up for you. She’s never made you feel unwelcome but that doesn’t mean she wants to see you every Saturday. You're a huge new wedge inserted in their married lives, and now you’re affecting Jack, making his parents argue.
“I’m sorry,” you say, suddenly flooded by a wave of hot, awkward regret.
You knew when you found out that Aaron was your father that you would change his life. You’ve always hoped it would be for the better, but maybe it isn’t.
“Jack…” you say. What is it about hugging him that makes you feel like crying? “I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“It’s not your fault. I like you here. You’re fun.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
He looks up at you. “Will you stop coming over?”
“I guess it’s up to your mommy.” You falter. “Jack?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry if having a new sister isn’t as fun as you thought it would be. I don’t want to make things harder for you, but I guess I did.”
“Mom says everything is hard now.”
You bite the inside of your cheek in efforts to hide how you’re feeling. “I’m sorry. Um, listen, can I have a big hug? I just remembered I have to go help my mom at home.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Sorry, Jack.”
Jack gives you a hug. You gather your things and rush to the door to shove your shoes on, but your dad catches you before you can leave.
“Where are you going?” Aaron asks, his smile falling.
“I–” He makes you nervous, and you know your stammer gives you away. “I forgot I had to do the laundry for my mom tonight, if I don’t do it she’ll be mad for days.”
“I’m sure you can make it up to her tomorrow,” he suggests gently.
“I better go.”
“Honey, what’s really going on?”
“The laundry is really going on,” you say, unconvincing. “I have to go, I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay. Well, I’ll see you on–”
You open the door before he can finish or offer a hug, image of him in his loose t-shirt carrying a tray of sandwiches burned into your guilty conscience.
—
You don’t see Aaron for three weeks before he corners you. You owe your great avoidance to his busy job, but it didn’t feel good to reject him, to refuse to make time for him as he does for you.
“You!” he says, clearly kidding but not entirely where he’s waiting outside of your university building. “Beautiful young woman in the blue! I have some questions for you.”
It’s so absurd for him that you immediately burst into shy laughter. “Dad, what?” you ask, hiding your face.
Classmates part around you, seemingly unperturbed.
Aaron retrieves his badge. “See this? I could detain you, but I won’t if you come quietly. In fact, if you don’t argue I’ll buy you lunch.”
“You’d buy my lunch regardless.”
He grabs you. Kindly, but grabbing all the same, like he’s worried you’re about to scarper. “Where have you been hiding?” he asks, giving you a quick hug. You feel tenseness in his arms you're unused to, hear a sadness in his voice that makes your throat burn.
Putting a table between you helps marginally. Aaron pretends he doesn’t know why you’ve been avoiding him and the Hotchner house, and you’re more than happy to go along with it, until.
“I have something to tell you,” he says.
You press against a piece of soaked fruit with your spoon. “Okay.”
“Haley and I are probably going to separate.”
You bite your tongue so hard it makes you flinch, spoon scratching the bottom of your bowl. “What?”
“We’ve been having problems ever since Jack was born.”
You stare.
Aaron is very still. He talks carefully. Not without emotion, but stilted, perhaps. “I’m not as good a father as I wish I were. And Haley sees that. Sweetheart, I haven’t ever wanted to burden you with the, uh, less than happy details of my life. I think you’ve suffered me enough. But I’m telling you because I know Jack told you about my most recent argument with Haley.” He smiles at you. “Honey, we fight too much. That day, it was about you, but it’s not all about you, and she doesn’t… Haley’s a good woman. She is. I’ve changed her life a hundred different ways and she hasn’t had many choices, and she…” Something vulnerable crops up, a wavering in his breath. “Sometimes I think she isn’t fair. She holds me to standards I can’t reach, no matter how hard I try, but we’ve stopped arguing about it so much recently, and I’m afraid that that’s… the death knell.”
“I’m sorry,” you say softly.
“I’m going to keep trying. I don’t want to lose her.” He drinks what’s left of his soda and presses his napkin under the edge of his plate. “But I won’t lose you, you know? I just want you to understand that you’re not the problem, and you never could be.”
“I don’t want to add another thing to your levy, dad,” you say, still soft.
“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, tied with your brother, of course. You aren’t a thing to be added to anything, you’re my daughter, and Haley might not like it but my home will always have a place for you.”
What if that’s the problem? From his perspective, you’re not a hindrance to his marriage so much as a separate issue, but from your own, it sounds like you’re just making things worse.
You’ve missed him, though, and you can’t argue that his reassurances aren’t working.
“It’s not that Haley doesn’t like you,” he adds, reaching for your hand, “more that she’s unhappy. I’m sorry that that’s something you had to carry.”
You often think to yourself that Aaron talks like he’s telling a story. He’s so calm and steady, the same as the feeling of his thumb on your wrist.
“I’m sorry I stormed out.”
“I wouldn’t call that storming out,” he says. “You’re too quiet sometimes. I wish you’d be upset out loud.”
“I just don’t want you to fight about me.”
“Honey,” —he holds your eyes, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze— “I’m always gonna fight for you. That’s what fathers do.”
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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boyfriend!ateez reaction to you receiving a love letter from someone else
☾pairing: bf!ateez x reader
☾warnings!: suggestive dialogue, mature themes, jealousy
☾a/n: enjoy ;), always open to requests etc.
Hongjoong🌶️
Hongjoong finds out that you have received a love letter, and his initial reaction is cool and collected. He doesn’t see the point in getting upset right away, but he is curious.
“So, are you going to tell me what’s in the letter?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He’s confident in your relationship, so he’s not worried about you leaving him, but he definitely wants to read the letter to see what the other person has to say.
You let him skim through the letter willingly, and he laughs at it.
“I mean, points for effort…but this is rookie-level literature.”
He glances up at you with a smirk.
“Babe, if this is what I’m up against, I’m not worried.”
He then crumples up the paper with a playful grin.
“Think I’ll send them a response and give some pointers—for educational purposes, of course!”
---
Seonghwa🧚
Seonghwa would feel a little unsettled but not overly jealous. When he finds out about the love letter, his first reaction is to ask you how you feel about it.
“You got a love letter? How do you feel about that?”
He trusts you, but a part of him feels protective. He suggests ignoring the letter if you don’t reciprocate the feelings. With a soft reassuring smile, he adds,
“It’s nice to know others see how amazing you are…”
He leans in closer, whispering in your ear,
“…but remember, I love you the most.”
He wraps his arms around you in a comforting hug, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“Though…if they try to send another letter, I might have to let them know the position is already filled.”
---
Yunho☂️
Yunho’s reaction is more lighthearted, even if he feels a bit jealous. Upon hearing you got a love letter, he immediately starts teasing you.
“A love letter? Wow, I thought I was the only one with great taste!”
He pretends to be hurt in an exaggerated tone to make you laugh.
“Looks like I’ll need to step up my game before you run off with your secret admirer.”
He suddenly turns serious with a fake gasp.
“Wait…do I need to send myself a love letter just to compete?”
Yunho begins to pace the room, clearly adding to his show.
“Dear Yunho, you’re amazing, and no one can compare to you. Love, Yunho. P.S. Please never leave me for some random admirer.”
He laughs at his own joke and finally wraps you in his arms.
“Just kidding—you’re stuck with me.”
---
Yeosang🪽
Yeosang wouldn’t show much outward jealousy, but he’d be quietly bothered by the love letter. He knows you wouldn’t stray, but he feels the need to address it.
He leans back on the couch after hearing about the letter, his expression calm but thoughtful.
“You got a love letter, huh?”
“Well, I can’t blame them for having good taste.”
He shifts closer to you on the couch, placing his hand lightly on your back.
“But I hope they know that you’re not available.”
His tone is still calm, but there’s a subtle protectiveness in his words. He looks into your eyes, his gaze steady.
“If they try anything else, I might have to write them a little letter of my own…letting them know exactly how things are.”
He gives you a small smile and gently squeezes your hand.
“I’m not worried, though. I know you’re mine.”
Then a playful glint flickers in his eyes.
“And if they don’t know, they’ll find out soon enough.”
---
San🗻
San feels protective upon learning about the love letter. He wraps his arms around you immediately, half-joking, half-serious.
“A love letter? Really? Guess I need to up my game. Should I write a letter every day? Or maybe serenade you outside your window at 3 a.m.?”
He grins and plants a playful kiss on your cheek.
“Though, I gotta say, no letter’s gonna beat the real thing.”
San’s voice is full of playful energy, but there’s a hint of seriousness behind it. He holds you closely, giving you a soft smile.
“Maybe I should send them a picture of us together—but at the end of the day, I know who your heart belongs to, and it’s staying right here with me.”
---
Mingi🩰
Mingi is dramatically over the top upon finding out about the love letter. He falls back onto the couch as if the news has knocked the wind out of him.
“A love letter? To you? I’ve been replaced, haven’t I!?” he groans, covering his face with his hands.
He peeks through his fingers, faking an exaggerated pout.
“Am I not good enough? Should I start writing poetry and serenading you in public?”
He laughs and pulls you into a playful hug but suddenly pulls away, looking at you with mock suspicion.
“Wait…was it a really good letter? Should I be worried?”
Before you can answer, Mingi gasps.
“No! Don’t tell me! I can’t take the heartbreak!”
Finally, Mingi breaks into a wide grin, pulling you close again and resting his head on your shoulder.
“I’m just kidding. If they’re trying to win you over with sweet nothings, they should know I’m the one who gets to whisper all the naughty things in your ear.”
---
Wooyoung👹
Wooyoung’s reaction is all about playful possessiveness.
“A love letter? Seriously? Well, someone clearly doesn’t know how out of their league you are,” he says with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
He wraps an arm around your waist.
“Do I need to start leaving notes in your lunchbox or maybe hide them in your coat pocket? Just to remind you who the real romantic is here.”
Wooyoung tilts his head, thinking for a moment, then flashes a mischievous grin.
“Actually, maybe I should send them a thank-you note—‘Thanks for helping me realize I need to step up my game. But don’t worry, I’ve got this.’”
He winks and pulls you closer.
“But seriously, babe…they don’t stand a chance.”
Then he leans in to whisper,
“Maybe we should write them back together…just to give them an idea of how happy we are.”
Wooyoung laughs and gives you a kiss afterward.
---
Jongho🧸
Jongho would be quietly protective. He wouldn’t say much at first, just nodding when you first tell him about the letter.
His voice is gentle but firm.
“I see. You got a love letter… How do you feel about it?”
He’s confident in your relationship but wants to ensure you’re comfortable with how you handle it. He reaches out to hold your hand, giving a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m not worried, but I just want to make sure you’re okay with all of this.”
With a small gummy smile, he leans closer.
“But they should know…actions speak louder than words, and I don’t need a letter to show how much I care.”
His tone softens as he gets up to go to the desk with pen and paper.
“I’m going to write a reply, actually: ‘Thanks for the attempt. But no.’ they need to know you’re already with someone who’s a bit more…hands-on.”
After writing his reply, he lets out a quiet laugh as he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on top of your head.
“But honestly, I’m not worried—I need to see the return address on that silly letter, though.”
#kpop#ateez x reader#ateez fluff#ateez scenarios#ateez#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#ateez ot8#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#kpop x reader
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|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Part 2.
Pairing: Dom!Bucky x Sub!female reader
Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level. The reveal!
Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, unprotected sexual intercourse (p in v), don't forget no glove no love, edging, asphyxiation, fingering, mild dirty talk, language, praise kink, masked man kink, stalking, harassment, implied harm, breaking in.
Word Count: 5.4
A/Ns: Hi babes! Sorry this took an extra day than intended. Tumblr is being super finicky tonight, I’ve edited and re-edited this so many times. If there’s mistakes just ignore. I hope you like the conclusion!
In case you missed it, Part 1
You didn’t sleep much the next couple of nights, and decided to take some time off of work. Bucky finally reached out, and you updated him as to what was going on. He immediately offered to come home, which you refused and started to downplay the situation.
Hailee has been great with letting you borrow some clothes and little things, since you only grabbed a small bag in a rush before heading to her place to stay a few days ago. You’ve been dreading going back to the apartment, scared to find someone in there waiting for you. But it’s at the point where you need to grab some of your stuff.
Walking into the apartment, it was eerily quiet and uncomfortable. But nothing looked out of place, and was exactly how you left it. Deciding not to spend any longer there than you had to, you promptly tossed a large duffle bag onto your bed and started stuffing it with clothes and any other necessities.
Zipping the duffle closed, you felt a light gust of cool air. Scanning your bedroom window assuming it was the source, you realize it’s open. You never open this window. In fact, it’s always locked. All of the hair on the top layer of your skin stands up to the extent it almost feels like tiny pinpricks. Flight mode is instantly activated; before you can even think, you grab the bag and run, practically tripping over your own feet out of the room.
Grappling with the door knob, the pure panic starts to set in. Just as you’re twisting the knob open, you hear a distant bang coming from another room in the apartment. You freeze at the realization:
I’m not alone.
You know when you’re watching a scary movie and yell at the tv, wondering why the one of the characters was so fucking stupid to do something?
Well, you did exactly that. What possessed you in that moment, you haven’t the faintest idea. But, with your heartbeat pounding in your ears so loudly that you thought your eardrums might rupture, you started to turn around to look.
What primitively catches your attention isn’t what you expected, but quickly makes your chest tighten. The fruit bowl on the kitchen counter that is normally overflowing with lucious, red delicious apples, now just has all apple cores.
The flashback of one being on left on the countertop after Bucky had left blazes in your mind. It suddenly makes sense. Bucky would never leave a mess and it wasn't long after that you saw someone outside your window.
Attempting to swallow the growing dryness in your throat, you continue to turn around. And that's when you see him for the first time. About fifteen feet away, stood an obviously immensely tall man. He wore thick, black shiny leather boots that gleamed lightly in the natural daylight within the apartment. Fitted black jeans with a loose, black hooded sweatshirt that failed to hide how muscular and broad his chest and shoulders were with the hood pulled up.
But two things stuck out the most about his appearance. First, was the tight, black leather gloves he wore on his hands that were currently clenched into rigid fists. The second, was the fact that you couldn't make out his face. All you could see was an elongated paleness, caverned by the blackness of the hood, and it seemed... sinister. He didn't move or make a sound. It was as if you would blink and he would be gone, like a cloud of smoke.
But if anyone was going to disappear, it was going to be you. So taking a chance, you ran. And you didn't stop running. Even with the faint vibration in your pocket alerting you to the new text notification on your phone, you kept going.
It wasn't until you got back to Hailee's place and frantically, out of breath explained to her, that you even remembered about the text message.
"Here," You toss the phone in pure detestation onto her bed, "I don't even want to fucking know what it says." You lean against the opposite wall of her bedroom, crossing your arms across your chest in an attempt to control the body shakes as you come down from the adrenaline.
Hailee watches you for a brief moment, still not having said much aside from asking if you were okay. Her expression was soft and sympathetic and yet had an dissenting undertone. You couldn't blame her, this all sounded absolutely insane.
Letting out a small, exasperated breath, Hailee sits on her knees from her previous crossed legged position and grabs your cell. As the screen comes to life, her teeth clench down reading whatever is on the screen.
“What?” The concern is evident in your voice as you pry away from the wall, though still holding onto yourself.
Hailee inhales deeply through her nostrils, faking a tightlipped smile, “it’s nothing,” her tone is flat. She’s lying. Clicking the sleep button on the side of the phone to make the screen go black, she makes her way off the bed, “hey, how about we head down to the cellphone store and get you a new phone and number?” She asks, trying to sound like her usual carefree self as she grabbed her crossbody bag.
“Hailee,” you uncross your arms and step in front of her, forcing her to make eye contact, “what is it?”
Searching your eyes, you can see that she is torn. She wants so badly to do the right thing, but isn’t sure what exactly that is in this situation. On one hand, she could just keep it to herself. Let the unknown and curiosity eat you alive from the inside out like it inevitably will. But only because she wants to protect you, shield you from anything that brings you the opposite of joy. Or, she can show you what you’re actually dealing with, and the two of you can come up with a plan and handle it together. Hailee decides on the latter.
Hesitating, her hand shakes slightly as she holds out the phone to you. It appears that now both of you will take this predicament more critically now. Grabbing the phone a tad more aggressively then you meant to, you unlock it and open the messages. But it's not often Hailee gets rendered quiet. Scrolling through the back to back texts, you understand why.
Taking your best friends advice, you immediately went to the cell phone store. She tagged along as you got a completely new phone and number, not transferring anything over, not wanting to take the risk. You didn't download any social media, deciding to take a much needed mental break for a bit. The only thing you did do, was take a few phone numbers that you needed out of your old phone, and even then you wrote them down on a piece of paper to manually add them into your contacts later.
Walking out of the store, you felt as if a weight had been lifted. Hailee locked arms with you, leading you around the corner to the nearest cafe to get iced coffee. It was her answer for everything. Bad day? Iced coffee. Need a pick me up? Iced coffee. Need to clear your head and just ramble about random shit for a bit? Iced coffee. Your best friend has an apparent stalker and we're hoping that changing phone numbers is the end all solution?! Obviously, iced coffee.
Sitting at a small table outside the cafe, enjoying the slight crispness in the fall air, you let out a huge, relieving sigh that makes your shoulders sink. You take the opportunity to add Bucky to your contacts and text him your new number. Although, you decide not to go into detail about your most recent encounter while he's still away on a mission.
Putting the phone down on the table and not have it incessantly go off with calls and texts, let's you feel as though you can finally breathe. "Thank you for coming with me, Hales, I really appreciate you."
Hailee is sucking the remnants of her drink through the straw as she looks up at you. She gives you a small, genuine side smile, "you're welcome," before smirking, "so I'm supposed to have a date tonight, with that guy Noah I've been seeing..." she leaves it open ended. "But, I should totally cancel after everythi-"
"No, please. Go out and have fun. You've been dealing with my shit enough," trying to make your words sound affirming, even with the lingering dread that you still felt.
That's one thing about Hailee. You never quite really have to twist her arm to do anything.
After showering and changing into your comfy jeans and oversized cropped sweater, it was hard not to feel the slightest tinge of jealousy watching Hailee do her finishing touches for date night in the mirror. Jealousy in the sense of missing Bucky and going out and having a carefree night, not in comparing yourself physically.
She swipes yet another layer of clear lip gloss on before fluffing her beach wave blonde hair. Turning to face you, her thick heels clack on the wooden floor as she starts adjusting her boobs in her sleek, dusty rose colored dress.
"What do you think?" Her hands glide down over her curves, "Dress is okay?"
"That dress is fire," and it is, she looks amazing. By the smile she's wearing, she's feeling it too, "too bad it's going to end up on Noah's floor ten minutes into your date." Hailee dramatically gasps, as if that's not true. It totally is.
You're both laughing until she abruptly stops, "I have to go!" She gives you a quick hug and starts scurrying towards the door, a bit awkwardly in the heels, "Bye! Love you! Lock the door!" As she goes to close the door behind her she yells back in, "don't read too much smut on your kindle while I'm gone!" and the door slams.
Shaking your head with a small laugh, you lock the door. Hailee just gave you the perfect idea of how to spend your night.
About an hour had gone by, you comfortably laid in Hailee's spare bed, a few chapters deep into your latest book. It was quiet, so when your phone vibrated on the bed next to you- you jumped slightly. Assuming it was Bucky finally having the chance to text you back, you pick it up fairly quickly. But the message you received isn't what you expected at all.
Before even unlocking the phone, you had a text alert from Unknown. There was nothing written, but all the way to the right of the alert, you could see a picture was included.
Promptly, you sat up in the bed and stared at the notification. That familiar wave of unease dispersed throughout your body as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head.
This phone number is only a few hours old, how the fuck did he get it already?
The notification banner and you were in a staredown. You had to know what the message was, but you were absolutely terrified at the same time. Your thumbs hover, occasionally twitching over the screen, until you pull the trigger and swipe up.
Us. Hailee...
Driving to your apartment, you broke nearly every single traffic law that there is. The entire time you tried calling Hailee’s phone back to back, just repeating the same mantra; please pick up. Please, please pick up. She never did.
“Hailee!!” You run through your apartment door, not having to mess with it for long as it was already unlocked. You had a feeling it would be. “Answer me!” You yell, breathlessly. The apartment is eerily dark and quiet.
Coming to a halt in the main living space, you whipped your head around looking for clues and try to listen for any signs of distress. But it was so difficult to hear anything over your own breathing and pulse drumming in your ears.
You knew where you had to go, the last picture of your friends dress laid out on your bedspread was the roadmap. The bedroom door was just barely closed over, a creepy orange glow lining it and trying to escape from underneath. Each step closer that you took, felt as if a large spider made entirely of ice was crawling down your spine.
Pushing the door open slightly with just a fingernail, you peered into the room. You knew this is exactly where this person wanted you. For what? There’s only one way to find out.
There didn’t seem to be anyone in the room, so you took a few small steps in. The glow was more prominent now, giving the room an uncanny romantic ambiance with numerous amount of white candles lit all along the dressers, night tables, and bookshelves.
Taking a broad step forward, your attention is now focused on the bed. Hailee's dress is no longer laid out like it had been in the picture. Instead, there are flower petals sprinkled across your comforter. The intriguing curiosity drew you even more into the room without you even realizing. Picking up one of the petals, you rub it between your fingers, feeling it's supple and delicate smoothness as you examine it more closely. In that moment you recognize it- the familiarity of it's dark appeal. They're black dahlia petals.
Some of the petals congregated in one particular area on the bed, revealing an elegant, black gift box about the size of a large book. Your lips part slightly as you pick up the box, captivated by it's alluring magnetism. Taking off the lid, your brows furrow slightly in confusion. It's a chain. A long, thick slip chain that looks like a necklace but almost long enough to be a leash.
As your finger smoothes over the cold indentations of the chain, you hear a creak come from the floor behind you. In a startled jump, you drop the box- a slight ringing sound deafens the scene even more from the chain hitting the floor. But that's not your concern. Because as you turn around, you see him.
Within arms reach, you are confronted with the person that's been behind all of this. He's even taller up close, broader. Dressed in all black attire, this time swapping the black hoodie for a black t-shirt and black leather jacket. And without the hood, you're able to see the elongated white face from earlier.
It's a Ghostface mask.
He stands as still as a statue, watching you intently, waiting. Your eyes persist in looking him over as your chest rises and falls deeply. When your gaze meets his face once again, his head creepily tilts ever so slightly to one side.
"What's the matter?" He speaks, his voice deep and low, "you look like you've seen a ghost," the tone almost mocking.
Squinting your eyes, you look at him again. And this time you really look at him. His body frame, the clothes, the familiarity of his voice. Your eyes widen at the realization.
"Bucky?" you gape, completely stupefied. Taking the first fearless step in what feels like months, you wrap your arms around him. He returns the sentiment and you feel safe, for the first time in what feels like forever. It suddenly dawns on you that he's not actually on a mission. And probably never was.
"What- What is this?" You ask, looking up at him, slightly pushing the mask up to reveal his stubbled chin and promiscuous grin.
"There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it..." He repeats back the words you said to him a few months ago watching the Scream movie.
The memory of you how you told him about this kink of yours curls around your mind. That this entire time, you were never in any kind of serious danger, he just brought it to life. Weeks and months of preparation went into this, here, tonight. You should have known all along that Bucky would never have been so nonchalant about you in any type of significant situation. You're safe. You always were and always will be.
The tiny icy footprints that had trailed up your spine were long gone, now replaced with a burning and tantalizing desire. You've missed him, thinking he was away while you were dealing with this on your own. But now he's here, fulfilling your deepest desires.
Looking up, Bucky's Pacific blue eyes are already gazing down into yours, a built up and unsatisfied hunger prominent. Moving up onto your tiptoes and grabbing him behind the neck, you bring down his head and capture his lips.
Your mouth parted his, gliding and massaging his tongue with your own. A low growl reverberated from within his throat with approval, and promise to make everything up to you tenfold. Bucky's intoxicating cypress scent fills your nostrils as your inhaled deeply, pressing your breasts up into his chest. Taking off the leather gloves and shrugging his jacket onto the floor, his hands started to wildly wander around your body, giving light squeezes on your hips before settling and interlacing gingerly in your hair.
That didn't last long, though. There was a sudden and hard tug from where Bucky held your hair, enough to pull the two of you apart. The aggressiveness of the gesture was unexpected, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't fucking love it. His eyes linger on your already swollen lips, now wearing a pursed, provocative grin. His hand releases the tight grip he had on your loose curls, watching the relief from the sting flash across your eyes. Bucky has always been tender, gentle and using your body as a place of worship-but tonight is different.
Grabbing the hem of your sweater, he maneuvers it up and off to join his growing pile of discarded clothes. Dropping to his knees with a loud thud, he undoes the button and zipper of your jeans, pulling them down and weaving his tongue along the freshly exposed skin. Hissing through your teeth, your hips instinctively press forward. He lets out a dark laugh, before grabbing the chain you dropped before. Standing back up, he takes your hand, "Come," he says, leading you towards the cornered edge of the mattress.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, his muscular body causes it to sink slightly. His free hand, still holding the chain, grips his own thigh before giving it a light pat, "Sit," he commanded, again keeping that firm edge in his voice that you weren't used to. You enthusiastically follow his orders, sitting delicately facing outward in just your matching ivory lace bra and panties. It's hard not to notice how you just fit. And how much you secretly love his significantly large frame pressed against your much more petite body in comparison to his.
The soft tip of his nose runs along the outside of your neck, his large hands coasting along your shoulders, down your arms, sides, before settling on your thighs. The calluses on his hands leaving a sensational trail of tingles and heat to disperse under your skin.
"Look," his head nods forward once to get your attention, and now you see the reason why he sat you here. In the corner of the bedroom, just a few feet away, is a full length standing mirror angled perfectly to reflect everything.
You see yourself, already flushed with arousal and breathing heavily as you make eye contact with Bucky in the mirror. His devious smile pins you in place as you watch his hands pry open your legs, entrancingly over his. They willingly spread open wide for him, your restless hips now squirming, aching for more. His fingertips trace small circles on your inner thigh.
"I want you to see your face as you fall apart, " he taunted, his voice sultry in your ear, still holding your gaze in the mirror. His middle finger skims across your already embarrassingly dampened panties, causing your back to press against his rigid chest.
There was a vague rattling sound, followed by Bucky placing the large opening of the looped chain over your head and around your neck, “Bucky, what are you doing-” you watch curiously in the mirror. Part of the chain dangles between your breasts, which he wraps around his hand once and slowly starts to pull, causing the loop around your neck to compress.
It’s a choker.
Your eyes go wide, nervousness rippling through you as you grasp his intentions, “Bucky, I don’t know-”
“Do you really think you have a choice?” he barked, pulling the Ghostface mask down back onto his face. Talking to you through the mirror, “I won’t hurt you. Trust me,” he whispers, breaking character for a moment to assure you’re safe.
You nod in response, your reflection visibly eases in the mirror as the necklace slackens around your throat. He lets the chain lax too, for now.
Large hands are back to kneading your thighs, a lone finger brushing between your legs when gravitating along the inside. It’s not long until the sensation has you starting to wriggle once again.
Cupping your sex, his hand gently moves up and down, keeping a firm, yet delicate and delicious pressure. Your greedy hips tilt forward, wanting more from his right hand, while the coolness of his left continues to lazily stroke over your skin. But when that icy touch quickly grabs and tears your underwear off in one jolt, you gasp at the tiny bite the ripping cloth left behind.
Now you’re left wide and exposed- to yourself, to Bucky, to the reflections of yourselves staring intensely, watching every movement. The warmth of his hand is back, leisurely gliding two fingers between your already achingly wet pussy. Swallowing hard, your breath hitches as you can not only feel, but see, yourself start to lose composure.
Bucky pulls the two fingers away, holding them up just to your mouth, "wet them for me," he instructs, his voice silk like satin. Taking the two fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirled rapidly around the digits, savoring the salty-sweetness of your arousal. Slowly pulling them back out, you see them shine with your saliva.
Something comes over you in that moment, call it gluttonous, but you pool some extra moisture into your mouth and spit onto the fingers. Just for good measure.
There's a murmured hum of approval in your ear as he spreads your folds, teasing your increasingly sensitive clit between his two fingers. And getting Bucky's praise will only enhance the entire night. Your legs quiver at the deliberate sluggish pace, letting out shaky breaths as the overwhelming throbbing demands more attention.
Finally, the pads of those fingers start to rub your bundle of nerves in unhurried circles. Gripping onto his thigh to steady yourself, your nails clutching his jeans, a whine escapes as your hips try to buck against his hand.
That dark laugh is in your ear again, "good girls don't come until I tell them too," Bucky breathes, overly indulging in how you respond to his touch. It feels like torture, in the best possible way. The combination of his words and caress... you have never felt this good. This wanted.
Your head falls back slightly against his shoulder in small disappointment, whimpering, knowing that he's going to make you beg. And you're getting desperate enough to do so.
The leisurely pace of his fingers picks up, causing your back to arch away from his chest as you start panting. Each swipe building pleasure, layer on top of agonizing layer. Finding yourself in the mirror again, you unapologetically watch as your body vigorously writhes against his hand, your moans spilling from your mouth more and more.
"How badly do you want to come, princess?" The Ghost breathed, his chest rising and falling heavily now, trying to fight off his own desire, evident from the hard protrusion you keep rolling your hips against.
"S-so bad... Please! Please," you pleaded, not caring how desperate it sounds. Adding some additional pressure, your hips stutter. Your breathing practically stops as your moans transform into one long, drawn out strangled whine as you come apart, "O-ooh...oh my god. Oh god!"
Not even fully coming down from the repeated waves, you hear, "God's not here," growled into your ear. In one sudden movement, Bucky stands up with you in his arms before tossing you onto the bed, "just me.” the low rumble emits from his chest. Ripping off the mask, he kneels on the bed and uses his left arm to support his weight. Using those same damned two fingers, he plunges them into your drenched pussy, siphoning a sound from your throat that’s unrecognizable.
“Again,” Bucky breathes, his eyes glazed over with a new kind of wickedness as they lock into yours, “Come for me again. I fucking love all the sounds you make,” With his palm face up, his fingers start pumping you from the inside, running over your g-spot in a come here motion.
Since there was no remission from your last orgasm, the tightness in your belly never fully went away. Watching Bucky, seeing him in the tight black t-shirt while his bicep flexes from working you, his slightly furrowed brow and his lips slightly parted in determination, you could feel it building up once again.
Feeling your walls contract around him, he grinned. He changes his hand motions to going in a frantic up and down movement, and if you know, you know. Your rasped whimpers became silent as you forgot how to breathe and your vision blurred. The build up came on so fast and so strong, the only sound in the room was your ever increasing wetness.
Your mouth dropped open into a silent O, not able to think not a single coherent thought, "Thaaat's it..." Bucky coaxed, "I want you to gush all over my fucking hand," and with his words, your body quivers as you completely shatter with a loud cry. "Goood girl. God, what a good fucking girl," he soothes. You winced slightly as he pulled out his fingers, collapsing back more into the bed as you try to rein in remembering how to breathe. Bucky sits back on his knees, and almost entirely up to his elbow is glistening with how hard you just came.
With a flat tongue, he presses it to his palm, and licks all the way up to the tip of his middle finger, "Perfect," Bucky hums in satisfaction to himself. Your throat goes dry at the sight, being the cherry on top of all the mouth breathing you've been doing. Am I fucking dreaming?
Pushing his jeans down to his knees, his thick, flushed cock rebounds out of his boxers. Bucky grabs you by the hips, pulling you down the bed before flipping you over onto all fours. Each of his hands grabs a fistfull of your ass, before slapping one side. You moan at the bite of the smack, feeling delusional from needing him inside you so badly. He rubs the reddened cheek before dropping a teeth grazed kiss on the sensitive skin.
There's a coolness between your legs, and you realize that it's your juices sliding down your thighs. Not needing any preparation, you feel the tip of Bucky's fat cock lining up to slide into your tight little slit. He rubs the head up and down, lubricating just enough to push himself in. As he started to sink into you, it took every bit of will you had not to collapse as you felt his slight struggle to get in.
"Fuck, you're tight," he sighs. But truth be told, he's just that big. As if he had a direct roadmap, he slides in effortlessly right to the hilt, poking the sweetest spot of all making you choke out a sob, "You can take it, can't you angel?" He breathes huskily, amusement draped around the words as he dragged his cock back maliciously slow, letting you feel the ridge of each vein, every delectable centimeter of his length.
You feel your eyes roll closed, enjoying the all consuming sensation. With one quick thrust all at once, Bucky simultaneously yanks on the chain of the forgotten choker forcing your eyes open with a loud cry to find him glaring at you in the mirror, "Look at me when I'm fucking you," he reprimanded, in a subdued yet stern voice.
He started to move in a merciless rhythm, keeping the chain taut in one of the hands that clenched your hips. Each thrust delivered not only a delectable deep nudge against your cervix, but a small slap of his balls to your achingly sensitive clit. The combination of internal and external stimulation has you singing your own personal explicit cry, almost on the verge of tears with the intensity.
It's almost cruel the way that he fucks you, like he's dismantling you piece by piece, mentally, physically, emotionally. Never have you been treated like such a prize possession and a cheap whore at the same time. Your walls flutter around his cock, swallowing him needing moremoremore. You're body's accepted that this pussy is Bucky's. It's meant for him. It was made for him.
In the reflection you can see Bucky wet his lips, his eyes darting between yours and your ass bouncing off of his snapping hips. He continues to murmur soft, filthy praises as he fucks another orgasm from you. The choker tensed as you came, making the edges of your vision blurry- your walls clenching so tightly, causing each stroke to become more intense than the next. After you completely shattered, the chain went slack once again.
Manhandling you one last time, Bucky lays back flat on the bed and positions you to straddle him. You shake your head in an almost delirious state, "I-I can't. Buck, I-" you whisper, thoroughly cock drunk, "I can't," you pleaded.
"Yes you can, angel," his hands glide over your sweat coated thighs, a lecherous expression on his face. You nod ever so slightly, because even as spent and exhausted as you feel, you want to see him come apart. You want to look down into his eyes as joins you in the fucked out bliss.
You grab the base of his cock, using it to align yourself before sliding back down on top of him. Bucky's eyes widen, watching intensely as your bodies joined one another. All the air releases out of his lungs at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him all the way in- deeper, your thighs already trembling. His hands clench your hips as your they start to grind back and forth.
His ab muscles flex under your nail piercing grasp- that pressure once again starting to build. He's just so deep, you're still just so wet from coming 3 times in a row, and now his wide tip is nestled so perfectly against your cervix that each motion of your body feels like you're going to spontaneously combust and die. But there's no way that heaven could be better than this. Those painfully beautiful sapphire blue eyes filled with an rapacious hunger that only you can fulfill.
You're mouth opens in attempt to say his name like a prayer, or something as equally dirty, but all that comes out is a sputter of shuddered gasps. Bucky's unapologetically loud moans grow more frequent, turning into their own long, drawn out beautiful melody, "fuck," he whispers, "that's so good."
Leaning down, chest to chest, you capture his lips in yours- swallowing those gorgeous sounds. Bucky takes this opportunity to thrust his hips up, massaging your inner walls as you push back against him. The loud smacking of flesh borderline drown out the sounds of both your orgasms, but you could feel the vibration from deep within Bucky's throat through the kiss. Rope after rope, you could feel his warmth emptying inside of you.
The strokes became laguid as he maintained the kiss- Bucky's hands cupping your face gently, which was such a dichotomy compared to the way he fucked you tonight. You finally pull your lips apart, collapsing fully on top of his body. Laying in silence, all you can hear is each other's ragged breathing and the drumming of his heart in your ear against his chest.
"I am... never getting rid of that fucking mask," Bucky chuckles lightly.
"Just so you know," you prop your chin up on your palm, "there's 5 other movies in the franchise."
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Hiyaa, I’m back again for another seer!reader😋
This one’s connected to the other seer!reader, I was thinking, what if mini padfoot inherits his mother’s abilities? Although he still can’t differentiate the line between his visions and dreams since he is really young. So what happened was he dreamt that a wolf was running after him and his baby sibling and he got so scared that he told his parents, then at the end they all figured out it was just a harmless dream?? Yes, angst with a happy ending please😚
Have a great day babes!🩷✨
mini-padfoot stoppppp I love them
poly!marauders x Seer!reader whose son inherits her gift of Sight
CW: hurt/comfort, fluff, Remus spiralling, continuation of this fic
If you had told Remus at any point in his life that he would one day be a doting stay-at-home-father of not one but two children, he would have called you barmy and maybe suggested you be admitted into the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo’s.
But alas, here he was, currently baking in his kitchen whilst his two children napped as he waited for his partners to return home from their various jobs.
And he loved it.
As if perfect timing, Remus had just slid a sheet of biscuits into the oven and set a quick timer when he heard his oldest starting to cry.
“I’m coming, cariad.” He called out as he wiped the flour off his jumper and pushed the door open to his son’s room, hoping to calm the crying before he managed to wake his younger sibling.
“Da!” Leo sobbed, holding his little arms out to Remus. Remus quickly bent down and scooped the toddler up into his arms and began shushing him and bouncing back and forth.
“You’re okay, m’love. Da’s right here.” He murmured into his head of curly black hair.
Though Remus knew toddlers and babies often cried as they woke up, Leo seemed to be particularly distressed after today’s nap.
“Hey, hey cariad; what’s the problem, hm? What’s the matter?” Remus cooed as he pulled his son away from his body to examine his face.
Remus’ heart lurched as he watched the little black-haired, grey-eyed bub rub at his eyes with pudgy fists; lip jutting out as he took in shuddering breaths.
“Saw bad.” He pouted miserably.
Remus’ heart lurched once again for the poor mini-padfoot who was plagued with his mummy’s gift of Sight.
“Did you have a bad dream?” Remus asked cautiously.
After many discussions that Sirius, James, and Remus had with you, they decided it was best to have Leo describe any potential Sights as dreams until he was old enough to be able to cope with potentially unsettling Sights; there was no use in your child stressing over things he could not control or even properly understand yet.
“Yeah.” The boy cried again.
“What was the dream about, my love?”
“Bad wolf.”
Remus felt his blood run ice cold as he stared at his son in horror.
A Bad Wolf.
“What did the bad wolf do, cariad?”
Leo let out a pitiful sniffle as his big eyes stared up imploringly at his father. “He was chasing us, me and my baby sister. I had to carry her but she wouldn’t stop crying and the wolf kept chasing us. He was growling and drooly and just very scary.” He explained, the end of his sentence punctuated with another sob.
Remus’ body seemed to move in autopilot as he pulled the child back into his chest and began rocking him back and forth, murmuring soft encouragements of ‘your safe now’, ‘da’s got you’, and ‘there’s nothing to be afraid of’ even though Remus himself was terrified.
It was him.
He was The Wolf.
He was chasing them…hunting them; his own children.
He should have known; he should have known better.
He was a monster through and through and he had no right to endanger the lives of these two innocent babes.
He felt sick and twisted even holding Sirius’ doppelganger in his arms like he had any right to tell him it was all okay and he was safe now. As if he wasn’t currently cradled in the arms of the monster he so feared.
Remus moved the child to the living room where he popped on a video of Winnie the Pooh or some other children’s cartoon on the muggle telly for him and handed him a small cup of apple slices.
He stood in the corner of the room - the closest he’d allow himself to Leo - chewing at his cuticles until James walked in the door.
“Daddy!” Leo shrieked excitedly as he abandoned the remaining apple slices in favour of launching himself at his father.
“Hey lovebug!” James cheered back, swinging the toddler back and forth in his arms before putting him back down and letting him race back off to his shows.
“‘Lo Moons! How was- is…is everything okay?” James started, but paused as he noticed Remus’ tense body language.
“Can you please watch them?” Remus whispered, referring to the one child sitting in front of the telly and the other still sound asleep within her bassinet.
“Of course.” James started, sounding like he was ready to ask Remus what was going on, but Remus never gave him the chance.
Remus swiftly moved down the hall and closed himself into their bedroom where he let out his own sob that had been stuck in the back of his throat.
The house smelled heavenly, alerting you to the fact that Remus had been playing around in the kitchen again. You’d been coming home to some of the most delectable pastries and breads that Remus always found some fault in - they were too dense, too flaky, not risen enough etc etc - but they never failed to make your mouth water each and every time.
The pleased smile that had taken over your face as you entered your home quickly vanished when you entered the living room to a tension you weren’t accustomed to in your own home.
Sirius was standing with the youngest of your two children cradled in his arms as he and James murmured solemnly back and forth, and your oldest watched cartoons completely unaware of any stress colouring the atmosphere around him.
“Hey you guys.” You offered cautiously, causing Leo to jump up to greet you.
“Hi mummy!” He shrieked, causing your daughter to stir unhappily in his papa’s arms.
“Where’s Da, pumpkin?” You asked him as he wiggled out of your grasp, clearly eager to return to his shows.
“In bed.” He responded simply, causing you to look at your husbands bemusedly.
Sirius and James exchanged a glance as James moved over to you. “He’s in the bedroom. He seemed very upset when I got home and all he told me was ‘Leo Saw something’.”
You let out a sigh as you looked over at your son, feeling horribly guilty that he was plagued by the same ‘gift’ that you were. You could remember some of your earliest sights at perhaps only slightly older than he currently was, and how upsetting not only the Sights could be, but how upsetting it could be when they happened to come true.
But, you also knew that at his age, what Remus described as a Sight could easily have been a simple dream.
You made your way down the hallway towards your bedroom, pausing to knock gently twice before letting yourself in.
Remus was sitting hunched over on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands with his back facing you.
You aren’t sure when the last time you saw him look so dejected was, but it caused a horrible lump in your throat nonetheless.
“Moony, love?” You called quietly, moving slowly around the bed in order to stand in front of him.
He never looked up at you, but a sob escaped him at your words.
“Baby.” You cooed as you knelt; placing your hands on either side of his knee and trying to rub circles with your thumbs in an attempt to get him to look at you. “What happened, my love?”
Through quiet sobs, you managed to catch “He’s scared of me. I’m going to kill him.”
“Remus.” You said more seriously. “That’s impossible.”
“He saw the Wolf, Y/N.” Remus responded emphatically, pulling his hands away from his face to expose his reddened and swollen eyes and cheeks. “It…it was - I was chasing him, and he was carrying our sweet-” He cut himself off with a hiccup and tried to cover his face again, but you caught his hands and brought them to your cheeks instead.
“He was trying to protect his little sister, and the Wolf was hunting them. I was hunting them.”
“No Remus.” You argued, but Remus screwed his eyes shut as if your refusal to believe him caused him physical pain.
“Remus Lupin, you listen to me; you would never allow anything to happen to those kids. You love them more than anything in this world; I’ve never been more certain of their safety than when they’re with you.”
Remus didn’t seem completely convinced as he shook his head in disagreement, though he didn’t bother arguing with you.
“And even if that wasn’t true.” You began, drawing your syllables out to encourage him to return his eyes to yours, which he did. “You have three of us here who also would never allow anything to happen to them. If you don’t trust yourself, don’t you trust us?”
Remus let out a defeated sigh as he rested his forehead against yours; his hands still stationed where you were holding them against your jaw as his thumbs gently rubbed near your cheekbones.
“Besides,” You added quietly, nudging his nose gently with your own. “I’m a much better Seer than Leo; if anything were to happen to my children - I’d be the first to know.”
Remus let out a quiet snort at that, causing you to smile.
“I’m sorry you’ve had a bad day, my love.” You soothed; pulling your head back to press a kiss to his nose only for him to hold your head there and press a gentle kiss to your lips in response.
“It wasn’t a bad day.” He countered. “It was quite good, before he woke up from his nap terrified.”
You let out a sympathetic hum of acknowledgement and pressed another kiss to his lips. “It could have very well been a dream, baby.”
Remus sighed as if he knew that, but just couldn’t help being worried. You understood his dilemma.
Before either of you could respond, a cautious knock was rapped against the door as James and Sirius both poked their heads in.
“Hey, Moony.” James started, sounding all kinds of guilty.
“So, Leo told us about his dream he had this afternoon.” Sirius continued, grimacing slightly at the admission.
“Yeah! And, uhm, funny thing…that…” James soldiered on. “It turns out-”
“Red Riding Hood!” Leo squealed as he shoved his head between Sirius and James’ legs.
“What?” Remus asked in bemusement.
“Well, we had a playdate over with the Lovegood’s yesterday, right? And Xenophilius read this muggle nursery rhyme to them-”
“James…” You groaned, leaning your forehead down on Remus’ knee as he rubbed his thumbs through the baby hairs on the back of your neck.
“Why don’t you tell them what happened next in your dream, bubs. After the wolf was chasing you?” Sirius encouraged.
“Me and sissy got away from the wolf because Mama showed up with two knights and they fought the wolf! And the knights were Daddy and Da, and then we all went and rescued Papa from an evil witch who locked him in a tower!” Leo explained excitedly.
“Leo,” Remus chided jovially. “You didn’t tell me any of this when you woke up.”
“I forgot!” Leo said with a shrug before he went racing back off down the hallway.
“Cheeky bastard.” You sighed quietly causing Sirius to bark a laugh.
“Sure is; he is his father’s son, afterall.”
“I’m so sorry, Rem.” James offered guiltily. “I was just so excited to learn muggle nursery rhymes and stories; I never even made the connection of the Wolf.”
Remus shook his head at his husband in faux contempt as he turned to lean his head against yours once again. “I’m gonna kill him.”
You hummed as if in thought. “No you won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?” He asked with a smirk.
You smirked right back. “Because, I would have Seen it.”
“Fair enough.” He whispered back.
“Right. So, now that we’re all good.” Sirius began. “Can we have those biscuits you made yet? They smell bloody brilliant.
“You can.” Remus replied. “None for Prongs.”
This earned him a bark of laughter from Sirius and a horrified squawk from James.
“Ha ha. You’re in the doghouse.” Sirius taunted James, turning to flee quickly when James turned to glare daggers at him.
You knew James had caught up to him when you heard an inelegant shriek from Sirius and Leo squealing in laughter at his fathers’ antics.
“I love them so much.” You mused aloud.
Remus breathed out a laugh through his nose. “Me too.”
#marauders era#marauders au#reader insert#self insert#marauders fanfiction#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#poly!marauders#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders blurb#poly!marauders angst#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#james potter x reader#james potter x you#seer!reader#poly!marauders x seer!reader#kid fic#ellecdc fics
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Masked Muscle
“Okay, now put it on” Chris threw the balaclava and the black t-shirt towards his boyfriend Jake, who was sitting on their bed.
“You’re sure about this?” He was clearly not sold on the idea of role play in the bedroom, but he agreed to do it anyway. He was surprised when Chris approached him earlier that day and asked if he’d be willing to dress up as a Russian thug because it really turned him on. But he decided to play along. And now Chris was standing next to him, a shit-eating grin on his face. He was enjoying himself already.
He watched as Jake took off his hoodie and tank top, then put on the t-shirt and face mask. Jake had a slim build, with muscles visible but not bulky, so the large t-shirt was looking kinda baggy on him.
"You sure you bought the right one? This looks like a skirt on me." Jake commented, but Chris wasn't really listening.
"Everything's fine, don't worry about it." He shrugged off his boyfriend's comments and waited for him to put on the balaclava. When he did he took a step closer.
"You look great, babe" He said, and saw Jake's eyebrows rise a bit, but he saw a glimpse of a smile under the face mask.
Then the fun started.
Chris took a step backward, as he saw that the process was beginning. Jake suddenly stopped moving, now standing still, and all his muscles started expanding. His shoulders and chest quickly filled out thew t-shirt, which now hugged his upper body tightly. His arms turned form sticks to beefy guns, with bulky biceps covered in veins. His slim stomach gets covered in muscle, same with his legs that turned into tree trunks.
The entire transformation lasted only a minute or so, and after was done Jake looked at Chris confused.
"Chris... Chris, babe, what... what happened?" He asked, his voice unsteady and anxious.
"Nothing you have to worry about, Jake. I'm just making sure you're prepared for your 'role play' later" He still has a smug smirk on his face, because he knew what was coming next.
Jake was hit with a sudden headache. A painful feeling, as if his brain was squeezed. He groaned and leaned against the wall, hoping it would pass quickly.
"Holy shit... uuuugh... blyat" he murmured to himself "Wait... blyat? Vat? I no speak... Nyet, vat is happen? Chris, vat is happen to me?"
Jake, now speaking with a heavy and thick Russian accent, turned towards Chris, his expression quickly shifting from surprise to aggression. But Chris didn't even flinch, he was in control of the situation the entire time.
"Stop whining, Sasha. You're not here to complain, you're here to obey!" When he called him 'Sasha', Jake's eyes glazed over for a moment and he froze. A few seconds later he was back, but it was not Jake.
"Da, boss. Sasha here to work and make dirty job for boss" He stood straight, almost like a soldier, and puffed out his chest, clearly wanting to show off his muscles. Chris was in heaven. He took a step closer.
"Yes, my loyal brute. You will do exactly as I say, without hesitation."
"Da, no hesitation, nyet. Only strong and obey you, boss" Sasha's voice was deeper that Jake's, he grunted more and was clearly struggling with English vocabulary.
"Oh yeah" Chris growled as he stood inches from Sasha, hunger in his eyes. "Flex for me, brute"
"Da, boss" Sasha nodded and lifted his arms into a double biceps pose. His muscles ballooned, with biceps the size of footballs.
"I strong muscle, boss use Sasha strong muscle" The Russian grunted as he flexed.
"Oh, I will use them, don't you worry" Chris drawled in response, ready to play.
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Hey pookie, love your work and I hope you’re having a great day so far. I would like to request Haikyuu men x reader but instead of them giving reader silent treatment, we’re giving them the silent treatment. I would also prefer if it’s the same guys too. Hope this isn’t too hard and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to do it. Sorry if in any way it sounded rude, love your style and all of your posts ❤️
SILENT TREATMENT PT 2 !
pairing: suna, tsukishima, ushijima, osamu, sakusa, and iwaizumi x fem!reader (separate) note: hiii lovely!!! u don’t come off as rude at all so don’t even worry!! if anything I’m glad to write this. It’s just what I needed after coming back from my break. summary: men can be so irritating sometimes! what better way to deal with it than ignore them? (don’t do this irl, communicate is key!!!) content: slight angst to fluff, silliness, established relationships (marriage for a few + plus the same babies from the prev fic), cursing, reader is sassy, not proofread!!!! wc: 3.3k
SUNA:
“Are you seriously ignoring me right now, babe?” Rintaro stared into your soul waiting for an answer. He knows the answer already but he’ll do anything for you to talk to him.
Instead of giving him answer, you just scoff and make your way to the bedroom, where you will most definitely lock him out.
“Come on, I’ve already apologized. What else can I do?” The brunette is right on your tail. Sometimes you forget that his height allows him to cover more space than you. He’s practically right behind you.
“You can leave me the hell alone, Suna.” Last name treatment? Yep. He’s 100% fucked up. You know in his eyes it’s not a big deal but you see it as a big deal.
Your boyfriend was supposed to pick you up from work today but he had forgotten, and one top of that he went out and got drinks with his friends. Not to mention you waited a whole hour thinking maybe he was running late or something. Once you called him and realized he forgot, an uber was called and you went home.
Just as you’re about to reach for the doorknob of your bedroom, Rintaro grabbed your wrist forcing you to stop.
“Let. Go.” You say through closed teeth.
“Please listen to me,” He’s… pleading? Your boyfriend never pleads for anything- well that’s an exaggeration, he rarely pleads for things.
“Start talking.”
“As I said earlier, I am very sorry, baby. I felt like I was forgetting something today, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Next time you need me to come get you, send me a text an hour before you get off work, okay?” His voice is tender and soft. Nothing like his usually snarky and playful attitude.
There’s a petty urge to not forgive him just yet, but at the same time, he’s being super sincere and honest. All you do is sigh and take your hand out of his grasp.
“If you’re really sorry, buy me dinner.” His mouth ticks up into a small smirk.
“What do you want to eat?” He asks.
TSUKISHIMA:
Kei tries to go in for a kiss, again, with no luck. He’s looking at you with the most lovesick look, because you always fall for it.
“I wasn’t laughing at you.” He says AGAIN, which is a lie. He was laughing at you and of course you’re mostly immune to Kei’s quips and remarks, but you were feeling a little butt hurt after he laughed at you.
“You WERE laughing at me, Kei.” His long, pale arm reaches for the baseball cap on your head, but before he can take it off you grab his hand and squeeze it as hard as you can.
“Ow- shit, that hurts.” He says trying to pry his hand from your grip.
“Yeah well that’s how I felt when you laughed.” You let go of his hand and turn away from him. You’re both sitting on the couch but you’re facing away from him.
“I’ve already told you, I wasn’t laughing at you, it just caught me by surprise.” A little “hmph” leaves your lips and you cross your arms.
Before Kei went to go get the groceries you told him you were going to do something to your hair, a slight adjustment. He’d only been half listening at the time, so when he walked in to see your hair, he started to laugh on instinct.
Of course you felt insecure and went to put on a baseball cap to cover it up.
“Can I see it again?” He asks very softly, his hand ghosts over your shoulder and you don’t lean away from his touch this time.
“Fine, but I swear if you fucking laugh, you’ll have to asking Yamaguchi if you can stay over at his place cuz I’ll kick you out.” His angelic little chuckle blesses your ears.
“Kick me out of the place we both pay for?” He asks, quite assumed at your statement.
“Yes.” Before he can get another word in you slowly take the cap off for him to see.
His hand creeps toward your head, he hesitates right when he’s about to touch your hair.
“Can I?” He’s so polite despite how mean he can be.
In an effort to remain salty you say, “I don’t care.”
His fingers are so gentle when touching your hair that you feel little tingles in your body.
“It’s really cute, babe. Let me just-” He moves a baby hair that’s sticking out, then his eyes meet yours. They’re so beautiful, but so are yours.
“I’m sorry for laughing.”
USHIJIMA:
It had been an accident therefore he didn’t even realize you were ignoring him. He thought that maybe you just wanted some time to yourself.
You waited hours for him to realize you were upset with him, but it never came. If anything you thought he was ignoring you. (That wasn’t true at all though)
Nao notices his parents haven’t talked to each other most of the day, so he comes to you. It’s almost his bedtime and you see that Wakatoshi had given him a bath and he’s got his pajamas on.
Little Nao climbs up your bed and crawls up to you, “Hi baby, what’s up?”
“You not talkin’ to Daddy?” Nao is very perceptive for a three year old.
“Um.. no.” He tilts his head at your response.
“Why?” How can you explain it in kid terms??
"Mommy's not happy with Daddy right now." He nods in understanding but proceeds to ask another question.
“Oh. But why?” Now that you’re thinking about it, it’s kind of childish.
This morning when the two of you woke up, Wakatoshi had asked if you’d seen his wedding ring. Then, proceeded to explain that he had taken it off when he went to work, because he left the chain he usually wears it on at home. So, he assumed it was somewhere in his bag. Of course he found it, but it just ticked you off that he had taken it off with little regard for it.
“A little disagreement is all.” Your son nods again and gives you a hug. He doesn’t like when you guys get into the occasional argument.
They don’t happen often, because you two are able to work stuff out. When they do happen you both agreed that they shouldn’t be in front of your son. Not only because it’s not right, but because Wakatoshi had grown up in a household where his parents constantly argued with little regard for how he felt on the matter. He would never subject Nao to that.
“It’s time for bed, Nao.” Wakatoshi says. How long has he been standing there?
“Okay, Daddy.” Nao kisses your cheek before scurrying off of your bed. Since he’s not good with noise control yet, you over here him asking Wakatoshi to make up with you, because he doesn’t like when you guys are unhappy with each other.
After twenty minutes your husband returns. “So you were upset with me?” It’s so like him to get straight to it.
“Yeah, I was kind of ignoring you until you came to me, but I forgot you can’t really pick up on those queues.” He nods, almost abnormal like. He rids himself of his shirt and turns the lights down.
After he’s done doing that, he joins you in the bed.
Right as you’re about to explain yourself he speaks up, “it’s because I had forgotten my ring, right?”
You open your mouth, but no words come out.
“Yes, and I see now that it was childish of me. You’re human, we all slip up.”
“No, no, I understand. I think I would be a little upset if you’d taken your ring off and tossed it somewhere.” He says, olive colored eyes looking into yours.
“You tossed it?” He shakes his head at the misunderstanding.
“I did not. I was just using it as an example.” Relief washes through you and you scoot closer to hug your husband. His skin feels so warm.
“Okay, good.”
“Are we alright now?” He asks hugging you back.
“Yes.”
OSAMU:
Never in a million years would you have thought you’d be staying at Atsumu’s place instead of your shared home with his brother, but yet here you are.
Speak of the devil Atsumu knocks on the guest room door and you tell him to come in.
“What’s up?” You’re pretty sure he’s going to ask you to talk to his brother. He’s been calling and texting you for the past three days. He’s probably been calling Atsumu too.
“Can ya just talk it out with him? ‘Samu’s been blowin’ up my phone, ‘n I know he’s probably been calling ya, too.” He looks tired of the both of you and you feel bad putting him in the middle of this mess, but there’s no way you’ll be talking to your husband anytime soon.
“No.” Atsumu sighs almost knowing you would say that.
“He’s worried about ya, ‘n I’m sure he’s very sorry too.”
Three days ago Osamu had a very busy and stressful day at the shop, it was just awful. When he arrived home it was evident that his day was shitty, so you tried to cheer him up.
That only made matters worse, as he proceeded to yell at you to “leave him the fuck alone.” and “your voice is making my head hurt.” Even though you knew he was saying that in the heat of the moment and he didn’t mean it, it still hurt to hear.
You yelled back at him telling him that you were doing what you could to make him feel better and that he was an asshole. When he didn’t say anything in return you rushed to the bedroom to pack a few days worth of clothes and get the hell out of there.
Was that a little bit extra? Yes. You could have probably just slept in your own guest room or on the couch, and then talk it out in the morning, but you were so pissed that your logic went straight out the door.
“Well… er… I-” You could see the guilt in Atsumu’s eyes when a string of loud knocks were heard.
“You called him over?” Atsumu looked away as not to meet your eyes.
“I caved when he said he was worried about ya ‘n ya didn’t even tell him where ya were goin’” Atsumu faked a cough before excusing himself to get the door.
Within seconds you see your husband standing at the bedroom door and your heart breaks when you see him. It had only been three days (2 nights) and he looked exhausted and miserable.
Before you could get a word in he dashes over to you and embraces you in a tight hug.
“Baby ‘m so so sorry.” He chants over and over.
“Please don’t do that again, ya scared the livin’ shit outta me.” Osamu was always better at hiding his accent than Atsumu, but when he was really stressed it would come out.
“I didn’t mean for you to worry like that, ‘Samu. I didn’t really think when I left.” He sits himself down on the bed not letting you go, he places you on his lap and you’re basically straddling him.
You squeeze him back just as tight. “I was so mad that you talked to me like that.”
“‘n I’ll never do it again. Even on my bad days ya don’t deserve that.”
You take in a big whiff of his cologne and you audibly relax in his arms.
“You better not because I might slap you next time.”
“Feel free to.” He says.
Atsumu ruins the moment with the most obnoxious fake gag, “Are ya straddl- actually I don’t fuckin’ care. Do that at yer own damn place!!”
SAKUSA:
When you woke up to your alarm, you realized Kiyoomi already left for work. Which that in and of itself wasn’t a problem. It was the fact that he left without dropping your daughter off for school.
Not to mention that you had a very important meeting with a client today. You got ready for work thinking about how you were doing well on time… until you noticed your daughter’s lunchbox sitting on the counter with nothing in it.
In breakneck pace, you ran to your daughter’s room to see that she was peacefully sleeping. “Oh baby, wake up we’ve got to go.” She starts to gain consciousness, her eyes squinting open when you turn on the light.
“Huh? I thought Daddy was taking me today.” Your little girl rubs the sleep from her eyes.
“He was but I guess he already left,” you search frantically for something simple but presentable for your daughter to wear.
“Oh, you’ve got your fancy business outfit on… is there something important today?” You’re so grateful to have a daughter who can read between the lines.
“Yes, there is but Mommy’s gonna be late.” She frowns up at that.
“Sorry.”
“Honey it’s not your fault, your father was the one who was supposed to take you.” She nods.
The two of you work together to get out of the house quickly so you won’t be that late.
Your daughter will only be running a few minutes late for school… as for you, your meeting started four minutes after you started driving to her to school, and the school is a twenty minute drive.
You’re gonna fucking kill your husband for this.
When you get to your daughter’s school she hops out immediately and says her goodbyes.
“Bye sweet girl! Have a great day at school!!” Of course you won’t let your anger get the best of you… for right now.
Luckily, your client was kind enough to excuse you being almost thirty minutes late, but it was still embarrassing nonetheless.
Some of your coworkers teased you a little bit afterwards.
“Slept in?” One who’s particularly close to you (he calls you his work wife and Kiyoomi hates it) asks nudging your arm.
“Nope, my husband forgot to take our daughter to school this morning.” A loud sigh leaves your lips and you pinch the bridge of your nose.
“Yikes, bet he’s gonna be in the doghouse for awhile.” He snorts.
“Hell yeah he will be. I’m just wondering, how in the world did he forget?? He’s better at remembering things between the two of us.” And that’s the truth. You’re curious as to what his excuse will be.
“Well he’s human too, ‘course he’s bound to screw up at sometime.” Even though he’s right, you let your pettiness take over and decide that you won’t give Kiyoomi the benefit of the doubt.
“I’m home,” you hear your husband shout from the genkan. Your daughter is at the table doing homework and you’re sitting with her browsing through your phone.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He walks in to the kitchen greeting his daughter with a kiss on her forehead.
“Hi, Daddy.” She says with a small smile.
“Hey baby.” As he leans in to kiss your forehead too, you dodge it.
His eyebrows furrow in confusion, “You okay?” Kiyoomi smells like his body wash and shampoo. Usually you’d be happy to have your nostrils filled with the smell of his post practice shower, but right now it just upsets you.
You got up from the table and walked away without answering his question. He obviously attempted to follow you to the bedroom, only for the door to be shut in his face.
“Hey what’s up with you?” You can hear the irritation in his voice through the door. He has no right to be irritated though.
Instead of answering him you make yourself comfortable on the bed.
After ten minutes of him trying to ask you what was wrong and literally begging you started to feel bad enough and open the door.
“What’s wrong is that you forgot to take our daughter to school this morning, causing me to be late to a very important meeting with a client.” His eyes widen in horror at your statement.
“Shit, I’ve been so focused on how I was going to go about this upcoming fan event for the past couple of days, that I completely forgot. You have every right to be mad.” Right, your husband still isn’t very social, and he still hates receiving gifts from his fans. Of course he’d been trying to figure out how to make an appearance, but not interact with anyone.
“Damn right, luckily my client was nice but it was still embarrassing.” He frowns.
“I apologize, and I’ll make sure to do better next time.” You roll your eyes and pull him in for that kiss.
“Yeah yeah, I guess you forget things too.”
IWAIZUMI:
Iwa hasn’t realized it, but while helping out this girl at the gym (he’s an athletic trainer and he couldn’t sit there and watch that girl screw up pull ups any longer) he was so oblivious to her obvious flirting.
She would bend over in those tight leggings, or hold onto his bicep for support. And yes, it was dumb for you to be upset with him, because one, you’re his wife and he only has eyes for you, and two, he didn’t even realize she was flirting with him.
“How are your sets coming along, baby?” He came over to ask you while the girl was getting water. Yeah, you know how to do all of these work outs, but you like having your man right there to spot you and correct your posture in the slightest way.
You pretend you don’t hear him, because you’re listening to music in your headphones. To sell the deal, you even mouth the lyrics of the song.
He raises a brow in concern. As soon as he goes to say something, the woman returns, “Iwazumi-san? I’m ready to continue!”
“I’ll be back.” He says, running back to that woman. You roll your eyes as you come down for a squat with a 25 lb kettlebell in your hands.
By the time you’re cooling down on the treadmill, Iwaizumi returns to you.
“What’s wrong with you?” He knows you can hear him, because even when you’re working out together, you keep your headphones at a reasonable volume, so you can hear him.
“What’s wrong with me? What’s up with you letting that woman touch all over you?” In an effort to ignore him again you turn the speed up on the treadmill.
“Really? Baby, you know my job requires me to touch people.”
“God, I know that. I’m not even talking about you, I’m talking about how she was all over you, and you didn’t even notice or anything.” He’s laughing? You just told him how you feel and he laughs?
He walks over to the front of the treadmill where all the buttons are and slows it down to a walking speed.
“Honey, I told her to stop touching me more than what was necessary. It was indecent and inappropriate. Then I told her I was married to you and I think she decided to keep going…” He pauses for a second waiting for you to come to a walking pace.
“Wanna know what I told her next?” He takes your silence as a sign to keep going, “I said ‘I suggest you stop provoking my wife, she knows how to fight and I would hate to see her behind bars for something like this.’” He smirks at you and you look away in embarrassment.
“And you were really going at it during your workout so I’m assuming she took my word for it.”
You stop the treadmill and hop off to stand right in front of your husband.
“Sorry for being so petty.” He just smiles at you.
“No don’t apologize, I don’t blame you babe. I’d be the same way if some guy was all over you, with no good reason.” You grab him by the collar of his compression shirt, “You’re so damn hot. Let’s get out of here.”
“Yeah?” He asks.
“Yeah.”
©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!
Note: last purple post!! 🥹 since i started this while my theme was purple. the hardest part of writing this was coming up with something sensible to be upset about 😭
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x female reader#suna x reader#suna rintarou#suna rintaro x reader#rintaro suna x reader#tsukishima kei#tsukishima#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima kei x reader#ushijima#wakatoshi ushijima#ushijima x reader#osamu miya#miya osamu#miya osamu x reader#osamu miya x reader#osamu x reader#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa x reader#kiyoomi sakusa x reader#kiyoomi x reader#kiyoomi sakusa#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi hajime x reader
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Lovefest
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: Oscar thought that adjusting to Formula 1 would be the biggest challenge of his rookie season … no one warned him that being around you and Lando would somehow both traumatize and make him believe in true love at the same time
Based on this request
Oscar steps into the bustling McLaren garage, his eyes darting around as he takes in the flurry of activity. It’s his first day in the paddock wearing papaya and he’s eager to make a good impression.
As he weaves through the mechanics and engineers, he spots Lando chatting animatedly with a woman he assumes must be Lando’s girlfriend.
Approaching the pair, Oscar puts on his friendliest smile. “Hey, Lando! Great to see you, mate.”
Lando turns, his face lighting up. “Oscar! Welcome to the team.” He gestures to the woman beside him. “This is my girlfriend. Babe, this is Oscar, my new teammate.”
You extend your hand, smiling warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you. Lando’s been talking about you non-stop.”
Oscar shakes your hand, chuckling. “All good things, I hope?”
“Oh, absolutely,” you assure him. “He’s really excited to work with you this season.”
Lando nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, mate. It’s gonna be epic. We’re gonna crush it together.”
Oscar grins, already feeling at ease. “That’s the plan. So, how long have you two been together?”
The moment the words leave his mouth, he notices a few nearby mechanics exchange knowing glances and stifle laughter. Lando and you, however, seem oblivious to this as your eyes lock onto each other.
“Well,” Lando begins, his voice softening, “it’s been about two years now, but honestly, it feels like I’ve known her my whole life.”
You blush, squeezing Lando’s hand. “Oh, stop it, you. But really, Oscar, from the moment we met, it was like everything just clicked into place.”
Oscar nods politely, not quite understanding the sudden shift in atmosphere. “That’s great. You two seem really happy together.”
“Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Lando says, his eyes never leaving yours. “She’s my soulmate, my best friend, my everything.”
You giggle, playfully swatting Lando’s arm. “You’re such a charmer. But he’s right, Oscar. We just ... we get each other, you know?”
Oscar opens his mouth to respond, but Lando cuts in, “Remember our first date? I was so nervous I spilled my drink all over myself.”
“Oh my god, yes!” You exclaim, laughing. “But it was adorable. And then you tried to clean it up and knocked over the candle ...”
“Nearly set the whole restaurant on fire,” Lando finishes, grinning. “But you didn’t run away screaming, so I knew you were a keeper.”
Oscar shifts uncomfortably, feeling like he’s intruding on a private moment. He glances around, hoping to catch someone’s eye for help, but the other team members seem to be purposefully avoiding their corner of the garage.
You turn back to Oscar, your eyes shining. “Sorry, we got a bit carried away. It’s just, when you find that person who completes you, it’s hard not to gush sometimes.”
Lando nods sagely. “Absolutely. Like, did I tell you about the time she surprised me after a race in Monaco?”
Before Oscar can answer, you jump in, “Oh, Lando, I’m sure Oscar doesn’t want to hear about that.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Oscar says weakly, trapped by politeness.
Lando grins, oblivious to Oscar’s discomfort. “So there I was, exhausted after the race, and I walk into my hotel room to find it covered in rose petals and candles ...”
As Lando launches into the story, Oscar notices a mechanic nearby making frantic ‘cut it out’ gestures. Confused, he tries to catch the man’s eye, but the mechanic quickly busies himself with a nearby toolbox.
“... and then she steps out of the bathroom in this gorgeous dress,” Lando continues, his voice filled with awe. “I swear, Oscar, my heart stopped for a second. She was like an angel.”
You blush furiously. “Lando, stop it. You’re embarrassing me in front of your new teammate.”
“I’m just telling the truth,” Lando insists. “Oscar, mate, when you find someone who makes your heart race every time you see them, even after years together, you know it’s real.”
Oscar nods, desperately searching for a way to change the subject. “That’s ... that’s really sweet, guys. So, uh, Lando, how’s the car feeling this season?”
But Lando seems to be in his own world now, gazing adoringly at you. “You know, speaking of the car, it reminds me of how supportive she’s been throughout my career. Remember that time you stayed up all night with me before a big race, just talking and calming my nerves?”
You smile softly. “Of course I do. I’d do anything for you. You know that.”
“And that’s why I love you so much,” Lando says, pulling you close. “You’re always there for me, through the highs and the lows.”
Oscar watches, bewildered, as the two of you seem to forget his presence entirely. He catches movement out of the corner of his eye and sees Daniel Ricciardo approaching, a look of amused resignation on his face.
“Hey, Oscar,” Daniel says quietly, coming to stand beside him. “I see you’ve made the rookie mistake of getting these two started.”
Oscar turns to him, relief evident in his voice. “Daniel, thank god. What’s going on? They’ve been like this for ages.”
Daniel chuckles, shaking his head. “Ah, mate. You’ve stumbled into the Lando and Y/N lovefest. There’s a rule around here: never get them talking about how much they love each other, or you’ll be stuck listening to them being lovesick for at least an hour.”
Oscar’s eyes widen in horror. “An hour? But ... but we have the first testing session soon!”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Daniel says, patting Oscar on the shoulder. “Once they get going, there’s no stopping them. It’s like a force of nature.”
As if to prove Daniel’s point, Lando’s voice rises slightly as he recounts another story. “... and then, on our anniversary, she organized this incredible scavenger hunt all around London ...”
You chime in, your voice equally enthusiastic. “Oh, but Lando, what about the time you learned to cook my favorite meal just to surprise me?”
Daniel leans in close to Oscar, whispering, “See what I mean? They’re in their own little world now. Best to just let it run its course.”
Oscar watches, fascinated and horrified, as Lando and you continue to trade stories and loving glances, seemingly oblivious to the world around you. The garage bustles with activity, mechanics and engineers working around the loved-up couple as if this were a regular occurrence.
“So, uh, how long does this usually last?” Oscar asks Daniel, his voice tinged with desperation.
Daniel checks his watch. “Well, you’re about fifteen minutes in now. I’d say you’ve got at least another forty-five to go, minimum.”
Oscar groans. “But what about testing? Shouldn’t someone ... I don’t know, snap them out of it?”
Daniel laughs, clapping Oscar on the back. “Oh, you sweet summer child. Many have tried, all have failed. It’s best to just let nature take its course. Think of it as your initiation into the team.”
As if on cue, Lando’s voice rises again. “... and that’s when I knew, without a doubt, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”
You gasp, your eyes filling with tears. “Oh, Lando, do you really mean that?”
“With all my heart,” Lando says solemnly. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, on or off the track.”
Oscar turns to Daniel, a pleading look in his eyes. “There has to be something we can do. Anything!”
Daniel shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, there is one thing that sometimes works ...”
Before Oscar can ask what he means, Daniel cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Hey, lovebirds! Last one to the track buys dinner for the whole team!”
As if snapping out of a trance, Lando and you both turn, suddenly aware of your surroundings again.
“Oh, shoot!” Lando exclaims. “Testing! Come on, we can’t be late!”
As Lando rushes off to get ready, you give Oscar an apologetic smile. “It was lovely meeting you. Sorry if we got a bit carried away there.”
Oscar watches, dumbfounded, as you hurry after Lando. He turns to Daniel, who’s wearing a self-satisfied grin.
“And that, my friend,” Daniel says, “is how you break the spell. Welcome to McLaren. I’m just happy they’re your problem now.”
As they head towards the track, Oscar can’t help but shake his head, a mixture of amusement and disbelief on his face. It’s going to be an interesting season, that’s for sure.
***
Several months into the season, the McLaren garage buzzes with anticipation. It’s race weekend, and the team has invited a popular podcaster to get an inside look at their operations. Oscar, now comfortably settled into his role as Lando’s teammate, watches with mild interest as the podcaster, Mike, bounces around the garage, microphone in hand, eyes wide with excitement.
“This is incredible!” Mike exclaims, his voice carrying over the din of mechanics at work. “The energy here is just electric!”
Oscar chuckles to himself, remembering his own first days with the team. He catches Daniel’s eye across the pit lane, and they share a knowing smirk.
Mike continues his tour, interviewing various team members, his enthusiasm never waning. Oscar keeps one ear on the conversations while focusing on his pre-race preparations. Everything seems to be going smoothly until he hears the fateful words that make his blood run cold.
“So, Lando,” Mike says, his voice dripping with curiosity, “I couldn’t help but notice your lovely girlfriend here. You two make such a cute couple. How about you tell us a bit about your relationship?”
The entire McLaren garage falls silent. Tools clatter to the ground. A collective groan rises from the team members. Someone in the back yells, “No!”
Oscar feels his chest tighten, his eyes already beginning to water. He looks around desperately, seeking an escape route, but he’s trapped between his car and a wall of mechanics who have frozen in horror.
Lando’s face lights up, oblivious to the panic around him. “Oh, mate, where do I even begin? She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
You blush, squeezing Lando’s hand. “Oh, stop it, you charmer.”
“No, really,” Lando insists, turning to face you fully. “From the moment we met, I knew there was something special about her.”
Oscar watches in mounting dread as the familiar scene begins to unfold. He catches Daniel’s eye again, silently pleading for help, but Daniel just shakes his head, a look of resigned amusement on his face.
Mike, unaware of the can of worms he’s just opened, leans in eagerly. “That’s so sweet! How did you two meet?”
“Well,” you begin, your eyes never leaving Lando’s, “it was at a charity event. I was volunteering, and Lando was there as a guest ...”
“And I saw her from across the room,” Lando interjects, his voice soft and reverent. “She was helping an elderly gentleman to his seat, and the way she smiled at him ... I swear, it was like time stopped.”
But Lando and you are lost in your own world now, the podcaster forgotten as you gaze into each other’s eyes.
“I remember thinking,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “who is this adorable guy in the McLaren jacket?”
Lando grins. “And I was trying to work up the courage to talk to you all night. I must have walked past your station a dozen times.”
“Thirteen,” you correct him with a giggle. “I was counting.”
Mike looks around, confused by the reactions of the team. He catches Oscar’s eye and mouths, “What’s happening?”
Oscar, his eyes already glistening with unshed tears, just shakes his head frantically. He tries to sidle away, but his movement seems to draw Lando’s attention.
“Oh, Oscar!” Lando exclaims. “You should have seen her that night. She was wearing this beautiful flowy dress that matched her eyes perfectly.”
You laugh, playfully swatting Lando’s arm. “Stop it, you’re embarrassing me. But Lando looked so handsome in his suit. I couldn’t take my eyes off him all night.”
Oscar feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see Daniel standing beside him, a sympathetic look on his face. “Breathe, mate,” Daniel whispers. “It’ll be over ... eventually.”
Mike, still oblivious to the situation, presses on. “So, what was your first date like?”
The entire garage seems to groan in unison. Oscar feels a tear escape and roll down his cheek.
“Our first date,” Lando says dreamily, “was at this little Italian restaurant. I was so nervous I could barely eat.”
You nod, your eyes sparkling with the memory. “He was adorable. He kept knocking things over and apologizing.”
“But you were so patient,” Lando adds. “Even when I spilled wine all over the tablecloth.”
“Because I could see how genuine you were,” you reply. “How kind and funny and passionate.”
Oscar, unable to take it anymore, turns to Daniel. “Please,” he whispers desperately, “make it stop.”
Daniel pats his back comfortingly. “I know, buddy. I know. But you know the rules. Once they start, there’s no stopping them.”
Mike, finally sensing that something is amiss, tries to steer the conversation back to racing. “So, uh, Lando, how do you balance your relationship with your career?”
But Lando is too far gone now. “Oh, she’s the most supportive partner I could ask for. She’s there for every race, every triumph, every setback.”
“Because I believe in you,” you say softly. “In us. In what we have together.”
Oscar feels another tear roll down his cheek. He looks around the garage, seeing the mix of resignation and amusement on his teammates’ faces. Some have plugged their ears, others have found suddenly urgent tasks to attend to far away from the love-struck couple.
Mike, now looking slightly panicked, turns to Oscar. “Uh, Oscar? Any thoughts on ... on teamwork?”
Oscar opens his mouth to respond, grateful for the lifeline, but Lando beats him to it.
“Teamwork!” Lando exclaims. “That reminds me of the time we decided to cook dinner together for our six-month anniversary.”
You laugh, the sound light and musical. “Oh god, what a disaster that was!”
“But it was perfect,” Lando insists. “Because we were together.”
Oscar feels his knees go weak. He leans heavily against his car, Daniel’s steadying hand on his shoulder the only thing keeping him upright.
“How ... how long?” Oscar manages to croak out.
Daniel checks his watch. “Only twenty minutes in, mate. We’ve got a long way to go.”
Mike, now fully aware that he’s lost control of the interview, looks around helplessly. His eyes land on a senior mechanic, silently pleading for assistance.
The mechanic just shakes his head. “You brought this on yourself, kid. Rule number one around here: never ask about their relationship.”
“I didn’t know!” Mike protests weakly.
“None of us did, the first time,” the mechanic replies sagely. “Consider this your initiation.”
Meanwhile, Lando and you continue your love-fueled reminiscence, oblivious to the chaos around you.
“Remember our first vacation together?” Lando asks, his eyes shining.
You nod enthusiastically. “That little cottage in the countryside. It was so peaceful.”
“Except for when we tried to go hiking and got completely lost,” Lando adds with a chuckle.
“But it led to that beautiful hidden waterfall,” you remind him. “Where you told me you loved me for the first time.”
Oscar lets out a quiet sob. Daniel, still by his side, pats his back sympathetically. “There, there, mate. Let it out. It’s healthier that way.”
Mike, looking increasingly desperate, tries one last time to salvage the situation. “So, uh, about the upcoming race ...”
But Lando and you are in full swing now, trading stories and loving gazes, completely lost in your own world.
“And then there was the time we went to that cooking class together,” you say, giggling at the memory.
Lando groans good-naturedly. “Oh god, I nearly burned down the kitchen!”
“But you made the most amazing chocolate soufflé,” you remind him.
“Only because you were there to guide me,” Lando says softly. “You always bring out the best in me.”
Oscar, his face now streaked with tears, turns to Daniel. “How ... how did you deal with this?” He asks, his voice hoarse.
Daniel shrugs. “You have to learn to find the humor in it, mate. And maybe invest in some good noise-canceling headphones.”
Mike, realizing he’s fighting a losing battle, slumps against a nearby workbench. “I’ve made a terrible mistake, haven’t I?”
The senior mechanic nods sagely. “Yep. But don’t worry, kid. We’ve all been there. Give it another ... oh, forty minutes or so, and they’ll run out of steam. Maybe.”
As if to prove him wrong, Lando’s voice rises again. “Oh, and remember that time we went stargazing in the desert?”
You nod enthusiastically. “How could I forget? The way the stars reflected in your eyes ...”
“It was nothing compared to the way you light up my world,” Lando replies, his voice thick with emotion.
Oscar, unable to take it anymore, slides down to sit on the floor, his back against his car. He draws his knees up to his chest, rocking slightly as he mutters, “Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop.”
Daniel crouches down beside him, patting his shoulder. “There, there, rookie. It’s all part of the McLaren experience. You’re doing great.”
Mike, looking shell-shocked, turns to the senior mechanic. “Does this happen often?”
The mechanic chuckles. “Often enough that we’ve developed a whole system to deal with it. See those guys over there?” He points to a group of team members huddled in a corner, passing around a packet of earplugs. “They’re the smart ones. Always come prepared.”
As Lando and you continue your lovefest, the rest of the garage settles into a strange sort of routine. Some team members go about their work, seemingly immune to the ongoing spectacle. Others gather in small groups, sharing knowing looks and suppressed laughter.
Oscar, still on the floor, has progressed from quiet sobs to a sort of resigned hiccupping. Daniel sits beside him, offering silent support and the occasional reassuring pat.
Mike, having given up all pretense of conducting an interview, slumps further against the workbench. “I just wanted to talk about racing,” he mumbles dejectedly.
The senior mechanic laughs. “Lesson learned, kid. Next time, stick to lap times and tire strategies.”
As the love-fest enters its second hour, Oscar finally looks up, his eyes red and puffy. “Does it ever get easier?” He asks Daniel plaintively.
Daniel grins, helping Oscar to his feet. “Nah, mate. But you do develop a certain appreciation for true love. And maybe a slight tendency towards nausea.”
Oscar manages a weak chuckle. “I guess there are worse things than witnessing too much love.”
“That’s the spirit!” Daniel says, clapping him on the back. “Now, how about we sneak off for a coffee while these two finish up their romance novel?”
As they make their way towards the exit, carefully skirting around Lando and you (who are now recreating your first dance together, much to Mike’s bewildered amusement), Oscar can’t help but shake his head.
“You know,” he says to Daniel, “when I joined McLaren, I thought the hardest part would be the racing.”
Daniel laughs. “Oh, Oscar. The racing’s the easy part. It’s surviving the Lando and Y/N love story that’s the real challenge. But hey, look on the bright side.”
Oscar raises an eyebrow. “There’s a bright side?”
“Sure,” Daniel says with a grin. “At least now you know what true love looks like. Even if it does make you want to cry and vomit at the same time.”
As they exit the garage, leaving behind the sound of Lando and you laughing and reminiscing, Oscar can’t help but smile. It’s been a strange journey, but he wouldn’t trade his place on this team for anything in the world.
Well, maybe for a good pair of noise-canceling headphones.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#lando norris#ln4#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x y/n#mclaren#lando norris one shot#lando norris drabble
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HAPPY 1K THOUGH LET GO AHHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU
But request time gurl!😘😌✊, so what about a nerd!Miguel\dom x nerdygirl!reader LIKE IMAGINE THE FLUFF AND THE SMUT THERE BOTH BE A BLUSH MESS but I feel like Miguel would take the lead and show he dom when doing it like dont blame me! 😭✊ like he still nerdy Miguel we all know the sweet boy but let make the nerd that friend s with the popular group and have a girlfriend who is nerdy!reader and which is a very shy person then Miguel is.
Pls my life depends on this request gurl and I hope your having a great day though BYE STILL SO HAPPY FOR YOU EACHING 1k following
-🐈
miguel o’hara stars in… ‘OUR FIRST TIME’ (゚ω゚)
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.miguel o’hara x reader.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
SMUT
you and your nerdy boyfie, miguel, have your first time together 🩷
cw; loss of virginity, creampie!!!!!, iloveyous, it’s actually really cute, womb fucking ig, softdom!nerd!miguel, NAWT PROODREAD!!!
2k+ words
@cheonstapes: thank you sm lovelie🩷🩷 apologies it took so long but this was so fun to write and i love your mind. i hope you enjoy beautiful! also tumblr keeps fucking up my italics and bolds so im gonna add them on later!
you and miguel had to have been the most stereotypical couple at the university.
who would’ve guessed the two biggest nerds on campus would’ve gotten together — especially when it was because of your shared interest in genetics. but to miguel’s friends, it was so sweet — a little cringe, but sweet. seeing that it had already been a year since you two started dating, the two of you not being able to hold a conversation without stuttering and blushed profusely was quite concerning.
every time you looked him in the eyes, your heart would suddenly beat a million times faster — face flushing, hands trembling as you try to come off as calm as possible. it was so embarrassing, you could cry just thinking about it. he had such pretty eyes hidden behind those thin frames, didn’t make it better that he would stare into your soul every time you talked.
but miguel wasn’t any better — in fact, he was worse. his whole friendship group being the talk of the college helped miguel to open up more, the persistent attention meaning he had to adapt to being surrounded by people. the incessant staring? that’s him trying to make himself less nervous by making you more nervous so you would stop looking at him so he could admire you without you realising — long, i know. but he loved how sweet you were, the way you were so deeply in love with him — just like he was with you.
walking out of your biology lecture, he speeds up walking to catch you on the othwr side of the room — gently slipping his hands into yours. you tense, looking up at his handsome face before relaxing — “ah, m-miggy!” he smiles so softly, wrapping his beefy arm around your waist. “hey, pretty — you finished for today?” his fingers squeeze the fat of your hips, pulling you into his chest as he leans against a nearby wall.
he always knew how to make you so fucking nervous, staring down at you like you were the centre of his world — which you in fact were. “yeah! i was just gonna go back to my dorm and study. would…well, it’s ok if you’re busy — but do you, maybe, wanna…” god, why is it so hard to ask your boyfriend to hangout! he knew what you wanted to ask, he just wanted to hear you say it. “do i wanna what, hm? i mean — i don’t have any plans later either, i was thinking of going to pete-“
“no!” a brief flicker of slight panic takes over your face, you refuse to be that much of a mess to the point where you can even ask your own boyfriend out. “i mean, would you like to come my dorm tonight? t-to study, obviously.” amazing job, girlfriend, amazing job. once again, he wore that stupidly handsome smirk — fingers kneading the soft flesh of your waist. “study? of course, babe — why didn’t you just ask?” prick.
miguel always said he found it easier to study when you were right next to him — as in, resting in between his legs as your head lay on his chest. “did you get the answer to number 8? i think i missed that lesson…” you tilt your head, looking up at him. you looked so cute with your little glasses as you studied, a small pout on your lips as you tap on his leg for him to help you out.
he was thinking a lot of things right now, and none of them were the answer for number 8. before he met you, miguel was always deep in his studies — head buried in a textbook every night. but now you’re his, he can’t think about anything else. the outline of your chest against your tight shirt, pert nipples straining against the fabric since you insist you feel better without a bra — he wasn’t a perv, but damn if you were making him feel like one.
“u-uh…i think — uhhhh…” he was really fucked. your cute little giggle and the way you shimmied around to sit on your knees, hands clutching his cheeks. “migs, you’re burning up! you ok?” he was no ok, not by a long shot. despite having so much attention on him simply because of the people he’s friends with, miguel was still very much a virgin. yeah, he’s jerked off before — but that was only after he met you. your entrance into his life awakened a part of his brain that he thought was forever stored away — and he did not know how to deal with it.
sex was something the two of you were yet to talk about, 2 years into the relationship and it was like you were kids about to have their first kiss. there were lingering touches here and there, but oh how badly he wants to feel your sweet pussy around him. “can… i touch you?” he could barely register the words that came out of his mouth before he takes in the way your face changes completely. the heat radiating from your cheeks could melt the arctic, that was the one thing you weren’t expecting to hear. at all.
of course, you were a virgin too — all in all saving yourself for miguel for when the time comes. you just didn’t expect it to be so soon. he looked so depraved already, panting softly — hair tousled from when he was laying down, you want him so, so bad. “u-uh, yeah — go ahead!” you didn’t mean to sound so enthusiastic, but miguel didn’t care — a hand immediately trailing up your plush thighs, toying with the edge of your panties under your skirt. “you’re…you’re so pretty.” he could feel his hands shaking, heart pounding in his chest — the warmth of your skin and the small moans leaving your lips were fucking with his head.
the tender skin was so sensitive, causing your thighs to tremble under his touch. he didn’t expect you to be so sensitive. fuck, did he want to tease you for it, but he couldn’t talk — not when he was already about to bust when you haven’t even touched him yet. “mmm — m-miggy.. please..touch me.” you could tell he wanted to, he just didn’t know where to start. his fingers ran up your inner thigh, teasingly running over the small wet patch on your cute panties.
he felt like a newborn learning how to walk again, the rugged rhythm in which he was working your little clit showed how inexperienced he is — but you didn’t care, especially not when you yourself couldn’t even notice his lack of technique. he fully pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side — there was a sharp in take of breath from him as he stared at your bare cunt, his bulge pressing harder aganst the mattress.
“g-god, baby, can… can i taste you, please?” miguel couldn’t believe how desperate he sounded, he had dreamed about eating your pretty, little pussy out for ever now, the thought of you denying him that now would break him. “y-yeah, fuck. please, miggy.” his tongue immediately latched onto your clit, swirling and sucking it into his mouth as his fingers probed your tight hole.
he knew you would need some extra prep to be prepared for taking him, so he made sure to make you feel as good as possible — he wasn’t about to let your first time be your worst. the fat of your thighs were tight around his head, holding him in place as he steadily fucked you with his tongue. for someone who was a virgin only 20 minutes ago, he sure knew how to work that tongue — your breathy moans breaking through the sloppy squelching noises of your wetness.
“migs…i — mmph!” the sensation was unknown but not unwelcome. a firm pressure in your tummy that felt like a dam about to burst all over your boyfriend’s face. miguel’s watched enough porn to know what that sound meant, reluctantly sitting up from his position between your legs to peer down at you — drooling cock bobbing between his thighs. he licked your arousal from his lips, shakily grabbing onto your legs to push them over his shoulders.
“baby, ‘m not letting you cum until you’ve had my cock in you — ‘s not how it works.” he felt like he was going insane, the sight of your pussy, so tantalisingly close to his length — the chubby tip poking against your entrance. you could only nod, you couldn’t argue with that — not when you’ve been waiting for this moment. upon getting your approval, he wrapped a beefy hand around his cock — smearing his pre-cum along your puffy folds.
he was so slow when he pushed into you, the sheer girth of him stretching your poor pussy thin. “fuckin’ hell, baby— s-so, so tight.” his strong hips pounded against your pelvis, your skin tinging a faint shade of red. your body was jostled against the headboard with every thrust, a thick rim of cream forming at his base. miguel was lost in the feeling of your cunt, drooling mindlessly against your neck as he rammed deep inside of you.
“m-miguel…!” the harder he fucked into you, the shakier your voice was — whiny moans and heavy grunts reverberated through your small dorm room. he couldn’t believe how good fucking you felt, your velvety walls gripping onto him like a life line. miguel was completely delirious, only letting incoherent mumbles — a bruising grip on your waist as he brings you back against his cock.
“ohhh, f-fuck…! iloveyou, so — shit, so much!” your pussy was so good, he didn’t even realised it slipped out — i love you. he really did, and in this moment — there was nothing else but the two of you, connecting so beautifully as you give yourselves to each other fully. he messily sucks on the skin just below your ear, simply grinding into your womb as his hand trails down your back — squeezing the flesh of your ass to pull you flush against him.
“i…i love you too, migs.”
you..you love him too? fuck. his hips stilled, gooey cum filling your cunt raw as he pours all of his love into you. miguel’s back heaved, his arms giving out under him as he falls on top of you — wrapping an arm around your waist as he carefully rubs your clit. his heart was soaring, smiling down at you as he fucked himself into overstimulation — determined to see you cum all over his cock.
“my pretty girl, you’re all mine — wanna see you cum. you gonna cum for me, yeah?” god, his voice was husky and deep — tickling your ear and sending tingles down your spine. your legs trembled, cunt spasming as it gushed out that clear liquid. it coated the sheets below you, splashing against his stomach — a low, gravelly moan leaving miguel as he filled you with his cum once again.
the two of you laid in silence for a beat, panting softly as he rested on your chest. one of your hands moved up to cup his face, picking up his glasses from your bedside stand — placing them on his face, albeit with wonkily but it matched that dopey grin on his face. “i swear to god, i’ve turned you into an animal, migs! you sure that was your first time?” giggling, you kissed his lips softly — nimble fingers brushing through his sweaty hair.
“guess i got a bit carried away, huh?” he sighed, softly rubbing your tummy. “‘s not my fault i’ve got the most beautiful, sexiest, most loving, caring, perfect, goddess of a girlfriend anyone could wish for.”
miguel was embarrassingly in love with you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
-smack myass like a drum
#cheonstapes#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara headcanons#miguel o’hara smut#miguel smut#cheonstapes films!🪷#nerd miguel smut#nerd miguel#miguel ohara#miguel spiderman#atsv miguel#miguel ohara fanfiction#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel ohara smut
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could you do smt leah x less x reader golfing trip based of the photo you love of alessia with the tank and clubs? x
sportsmanship II a.russo, l.williamson
"could you at least try a smile baby girl? i'd even accept a fake one." leah chuckled, opening your door for you as you rolled your eyes but plastered a cheesy insincere grin on your face.
"much better." leah winked, stealing a kiss as you pushed yourself up and out of the car, your girlfriend closing the door after you.
"is it not a little bit cliche to tell someone they look prettier when they smile? she's still lovely when she frowns too." the other blonde piped up from the back of the car.
"those words did not leave my mouth alessia don't you dare put them in there!" leah warned as you sent the younger girl an amused smile as she winked, pulling the set of clubs out of the back with a grunt.
"great. we're not even on the course yet and the teaming up has already begun!" leah scoffed with a shake of her head making you chuckle.
"aw is someone mad that her little girlfriend golf day isn't going as she hoped?" you cooed mockingly, the older girl sending you a witheringly dry look as she made her way around the car to collect her own set of clubs.
“watch out. she’s got a whole bag full of weapons to hit you with if you get on her nerves today!” alessia murmured, kissing your cheek and hoisting leah’s spare set of clubs over her shoulder.
“my words normally work just as well too, thank you very much.” leah warned with another glare, flicking the boot of the car closed and locking it behind her, striding on ahead.
you only grinned, following after both of your girlfriends toward the golf club where you busied yourself taking photos of alessia as leah signed the three of you in, the only one between you who was a member.
“babe come on you’ve taken about ten now, that’s enough!” alessia laughed as you posed her again, eyes roaming her exposed shoulders and biceps which didn’t go unnoticed by the amused blonde.
“once the two of you are done with your photoshoot, we have a game to play.” leah raised an eyebrow, tapping her foot impatiently. “correction my love you two have a game to play, i’m merely here as a cheerleader and for moral support!” you winked, snatching a set of keys out of leah’s hand before she could stop you.
“and of course, the driver.” you grinned, twirling the golf cart key around on your finger as leah chuckled. “i really don’t see why-“ your other girlfriend piped up as the three of you made your way over to the cart pick up.
“because less, we love you very much but you’re a…special driver just on a main road. a golf course full of potholes and rocks and paths? not your strong suit.” leah kissed her cheek in apologies as she scoffed, leah loading her clubs into the solo cart she insisted on having despite all three of you being able to easily squeeze into one.
“that is so-“ the younger blonde was cut off again as you stole a kiss. “baby, just get in the cart.” you patted her cheek gently and rounded around to your own side as alessia rolled her eyes and grunted as she lifted and dropped her clubs down in the back.
“my passenger pr-“ you started to tease as she took a seat next to you, leah already driving off impatient to start the round. “unless you’d like me to accidentally hit you with a golf ball today, i’d suggest you not finish that sentence.” alessia warned sternly.
“love you!” you sung out, kissing her cheek a few times as her eyes rolled but you didn’t miss the ever so slight rosy blush which coated her cheeks.
“jesus!” the girl grabbed onto you as you sped off after leah, a wild grin on your face and a wave sent to a few older men who looked on disapprovingly clearly having just finished their own round.
“but i’m the reckless driver?” alessia huffed as you came to an abrupt halt beside leah’s cart. “hey we got here in one piece? the only reason i came was to drive these!” you smiled happily, patting the steering wheel.
“and of course to cheer you both on.” you corrected quickly, adjusting to be in a more comfortable position as alessia slid out of the cart. “mm i think you’d make a cute caddy my girl.” leah smiled flirtily, precious annoyance gone as she sent you a wink and grabbed out a club.
“no that would mean she’d actually have to carry your clubs, her little arms would snap.” alessia smirked as leah directed her to which club to use as you mocked her words and pulled a face.
“you just sit there and look pretty, cheer me on when i win.” alessia grinned, patting your cheek mockingly the same as you had to her just before. “when you win? oh she’s got jokes!” leah clapped sarcastically as the two of them started to bicker as they made their way to the tee.
“ladies ladies you can measure the size of your clubs later. i’d like to get home in time for dinner, which the loser is cooking!” you warned, shooing for them to continue.
“and what will you be doing?” leah queried with a raised eyebrow, leaning against her club as alessia frowned lining herself up to take her first shot, leah having been giving the younger girl lessons for the last few weeks.
“same thing i always do, lookin pretty.” you blew her a kiss with a wink as she chuckled and your other girlfriend grunted making her swing. “yes!” the blonde cheered happily, grinning at you as you clapped her.
“don’t celebrate too early babe, i’m in the mood for…pasta for dinner. but i’ll keep thinking of the details!” leah poked the strikers nose who scowled and slapped her hand away.
“leah. play nice!” you warned the older girl who sent you a charming smile and got herself into position. “darling i’m nothing if not an advocate for good sportsmanship!” the blonde winked before getting herself ready to swing.
“here comes the self pep talk.” alessia mumbled, arm draping itself across your shoulder as you smiled and leaned into her. “come on leah, nice and straight. swing true, swing fast. be the ball, see the ball, hit the ball-“ your girlfriend mocked under her breath as you had to cover your mouth with your hand not to laugh out loud.
“excuse me, have you two dickheads ever heard of course etiquette?” the defender gave you both an annoyed scowl as you hid your face in the girls shoulder to hide your laughter.
“didn’t realise calling your competition a dickhead was course etiquette love?”
~
“ah fuck it!” leah swore, kicking out a lump of grass as you pinched alessia beside you, sending her a warning look as she opened her mouth to likely tease the older girl.
“she’s on the edge less, i wouldn’t.” you murmured with a slight shake of your head. “so when i play a poor hole she’s allowed to tease me? but because she throws a tantrum i can’t give it back to her?” alessia scoffed with raised eyebrows.
“yes, exactly that.” you smiled, foot shooting out to kick her bum as she stood and went to take her own shot. “watch it.” the striker warned pointing at you, though you didn’t miss the hint of a smile on her lips before she turned away.
“baby, it’s just a game.” you started gently as leah took her place by your side, opening your arms for her as the blonde exhaled and slumped into them, leaning over a bit awkwardly given she was just taller.
“a game i have to win.” leah grumbled into your neck as you rubbed her back, sending alessia a thumbs up as she putted her ball into the hole and celebrated quietly.
“she just sunk it, didn’t she?” leah sighed, pushing herself back away from you as you gave her a sympathetic smile. “you’re still up by three?” you reminded, leah nodding with another sigh.
“hey!” you snagged her by the belt loop of her pants as she looked over her shoulder with a confused frown. though it melted into a smile as you tapped your lips expectantly and she surged forward to give you a kiss.
“you should come with me more often, this tennis skirt is brilliant motivation.” the girl mumbled against your lips, hand sliding up your bare thigh as you chuckled and pushed her away.
“down girl!” you teased, nodding for her to take her shot. “yes?” you smiled as alessia now popped up in front of you with a frown, a laugh leaving your lips as she tapped hers expectantly.
indulging her with a kiss you both pulled away at the sound of a smack, leah’s hand colliding with alessia’s ass as she strode past and hopped into her cart.
“what? i told you, i’m all for good sportmanship!”
#woso x reader#alessia russo x reader#leah williamson x reader#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso blurbs#alessia russo#leah williamson#leah williamson imagine#answered asks
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how abt headcanons for the arcane women on a beach date? :0 feel free to add/remove anyone ^^
Coming right up!
Arcane X Beach Date with Reader!
Characters: Powder/Jinx, Violet "Vi", Caitlyn Kiramman, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda, Sevika, Ran and Vander
Warning: Some slight suggestive themes and mild cursing. But pretty much SFW.
A/N: Aww, summer is practically over! I hope you guys had fun this summer and stayed safe! Whatever is next in the future, I hope we all have a great time and look forward to the rest of 2024! We only got three more months until Season Two guys, I know we can do it even if it feels so far. So let's hang in there!
Powder/Jinx
“Hey, hurry up and look over here, toots! I’m about to pull off the biggest cannonball!... Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine- Now watch me!”
At the beach, Jinx is absolutely going to do everything under the sun, whether it be legal or illegal! She might not be the best swimmer, but she loves getting in the water, especially jumping in and getting her adrenaline going. And you better expect her to get you involved in a water fight! Just don’t expect her to play fair, girlie has a bunch of mechanisms she can make into weapons for your game and she’s not afraid to use them!
Sand castles are requested and being buried in sand is a must. A date at the beach with the Loose Cannon feels more like a hangout than a lovely day together in the sand, but don’t get it wrong. Jinx loves spending time with you at the beach and will sneak some kisses to your cheek or slam her lips on yours. She’s pretty sure your beach date is probably one of the best days of her life and it’s all thanks to you.
Violet “Vi”
“This is the perfect weather for a nice swim, babe. Hey- Race you to the other side. Last one there is buying ice cream!”
When you invited Violet to a date on the beach, she was more than ready, she was beyond excited! She is a perfect balance between playful and romantic, always flirting with you in regards to your swimsuit and even sneaking some seductive touches along your body. And right when she’s done or is about to kiss you, she’s quick to trick you by running away gleefully waiting for you to catch her or messing with you.
She’s not exactly the best of swimmers, but is willing to learn and get her feet wet just for you. If you both aren’t having fun talking to each other and exploring the beach side by side, then guests of the beach better expect to see a happy couple making out in the sand or getting affectionate. Peering eyes or none, a beach date with Violet is all you could ever ask for and more.
Caitlyn Kiramman
“Ahh, isn’t this absolute bliss, my love-... Did. Did you just splash me? Oh, you’re gonna pay royally for that.”
Caitlyn has been to the beach quite a lot in the summer with her family and always loved spending time on the coast. So when you asked her on a getaway there, she was immediately on board. During your date, she makes sure you are all okay, rubbing sunscreen on you and checking if all your equipment is accounted for. Caitlyn is more on the quieter side, having a picnic in the sand with you or laying in the shade and just catching the breeze.
But do not let this fool you; She can be playful and accept your requests to swim, especially since she’s a pro at it, or just play in general! She’ll always be open to exploring underwater with you or even making some sand castles together! When it’s time to go, Caitlyn almost doesn’t want to leave, but at least she has a sweet memory and new tradition to share with you.
Ekko
“You’re right, we all needed this vacation. Everyone’s happy and you’re happy, so I’m fine. Wanna take a swim with the others?”
Ekko has never been to the beach before. He’s only heard stories from Pilties that passed by the undercity and seen pictures of it, but has never set foot on one, and neither has the Firelights. Whenever he needed a swim or a getaway, he would just find a local lake or river to satisfy him and everyone else’s needs. So you can imagine his surprise when you set up a little vacation for him and his allies on the coast!
The leader of the firelights is beyond happy the entire time you’re by his side and showing off the beach to the firelights, engaging in small games of volleyball or tag with the young ones. Of course it’s still a date for you two, so he’s sure to give you all the love and care you could ask for when the kids or Scar aren’t taking up you two’s time. But even then, it is all in all a fun experience to share, whether alone or with the freedom fighters.
Viktor
“Aye! How is the water so cold? Maybe you should swim on without me… Don’t worry, I’ll keep watch-. H-Hey! Fine, I’ll join you, let’s just take it slow.”
It had been years since Viktor had stepped on a beach before you asked him on a date there. The once feeling of sand in his feet made him raise an eyebrow and the wind touching his skin had him a bit nervous with his body out. From the looks of it, you were sure at first that this would be a hard time to enjoy together…
But after a while and a bit of convincing to let loose with some encouragement, the scientist finally let loose a little and enjoyed all of the beach with you. He may not be able to swim, but walking in the water, holding your hand and feeling the small waves crash into his ankles? Now that was a piece of absolute heaven. And exploring uncharted territories with you to find the most beautiful of caves was beyond delightful. He would have to remind himself to come to the beach with you more often.
Jayce Talis
“What’s up? Are you admiring my muscles?... If you’re looking at them dry, I can’t wait to see how you’ll look at them wet. Now come on in!”
All it took was one date to find out that Jayce practically belonged on the beach with you! There he acted like such an excited child in his trunks running immediately into the water with your hand in his to feel the waves wash over you two. Don’t expect to do much outside of swimming unless you need something from your personal belongings, and even then Jayce will go grab it for you and head straight back in!
He isn’t much of a goofball swimming with you outside of small moments of teasing, but he does get quite handsy and flirtatious, holding your waist and pulling you close to kiss you. Everyone can practically put together that you are his with how affectionate he is around you. And he doesn’t care either because he doesn’t mind putting you on the pedestal where you belong. It’s a chill date, but a nice date regardless.
Mel Medarda
“Mmm, we needed this, sweetheart. A day away from the nagging, pointless fighting and having to meet expectations? It’s absolutely worth it.”
A beach date with Mel has got to be one of the calmest dates you’ll ever have in your life. Mel isn’t much of a swimmer, preferring to just walk down the coast with you. But even then, she spends most of her time sunbathing and simply taking in the ambiance around the both of you in relaxation. For some it may be boring, but for her just being near you and practically doing nothing is heavenly.
Of course she won’t be a prude though. Sometimes she’ll take a minute and collect seashells to take home with her as souvenirs. And if you do want to swim around or really utilize the beach, she will let you and simply watch you having fun lovingly from the sidelines. That is unless you want her to join you, then just ask and she’ll be right by your side enjoying every second with you.
Sevika
“Ran is challenging me to volleyball and I was wondering if you’d want to be my partner?... Thanks babydoll- Hey, Ran! Get ready to get your ass kicked!”
Sevika doesn’t go to the beach unless it’s with a group of friends. Only then with them and you as company is she gonna have the time of her life! Outside of work and in the sand, the muscular woman is a lot more relaxed and a bit playful with everyone, including yourself. She’ll do whatever you’d like as long as it means you both are enjoying yourself.
Want to play a few games? She’s all for it. Want to just kick back and take in the sun and the waves? She’s cool with that too! Nothing is off limits for the Right Hand of Zaun, and I mean nothing. Because if you feel it’s not exactly a date, then Sevika has no problem taking you somewhere a bit more secluded and showing you a great time~. At the end of the day, you’re sure to look back on your time with your girlfriend at the beach fondly and can’t wait for the next one!
Vander
“We should try and make this a tradition. You, me and the kids, come down to the beach every summer. They’d look forward to it every year. And so will I…”
Everytime you and Vander go to the beach, it is usually with the kids as an annual family outing. Yeah, the both of you have to babysit a bit and deal with the mindless teasing of the sumprats when you both get intimate, but you enjoy yourselves regardless. You love when the Hound of the Undercity plays tag with his adopted children, even dragging you in for the ride and getting a good adrenaline kick from it all.
You two always leave the beach excited for the next time around the following year with tired kids needing to be laid down. He makes sure to let you know how grateful he was to spend time with you and everyone else, nuzzling into you and whispering how much he loves you. Though you miss those days, you never broke that tradition, even when the world fell apart. No matter what, you always come back every summer to the beach to keep the memory alive…
If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way!
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3
#x reader#x female reader#x you#x male reader#arcane x reader#arcane lol#arcane imagines#arcane headcanon#arcane x y/n#jinx x reader#vi x you#vi x reader#vi x y/n#vi x oc#arcane x you#arcane x oc#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn x y/n#caitlyn kiramman#vi arcane#ekko x reader#viktor x y/n#viktor x you#viktor x oc#jayce x reader#mel x reader#sevika x reader#sevika x you#sevika x y/n#vander x reader
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Dead Disco - Epilogue
Dead Disco masterlist Ghost/Soap/female reader The end.
You’re having trouble breathing.
It doesn’t help that you’re hiding in the back, peeking around the corner every so often, trying to interpret everyone’s faces.
It’s terrifying. You’re terrified.
“Hello?” Lea calls from the other side of the hallway, hands turned upwards like she’s confused. “What are you doing?”
“Shhh!” You hiss, grabbing her by the wrist. “I’m hiding.”
“Okay… why are we hiding?”
“I can’t go out there.” The denial is steadfast, and she shakes her head.
“You have to. You’re the artist.”
“I know. And that’s why I can’t go. They’re all… looking at me. Judging me.”
“They’re appreciating you, love. They’re appreciating your work.” You shiver. It’s not just your work out there. It’s a collection of your pieces, moments and feelings worked out on canvas, agony and elation painted together into something called art.
“I can’t go out there.” You double down, and she rubs your shoulder sympathetically.
“You have to.”
It’s not so bad. You finally appear from the back, and the gallery host introduces you as the artist. Everyone claps.
As you make your rounds, you start to notice small stickers on the plaques, signifying the sale of a piece, and it warms you, happiness spreading from fingers to toes, fills you with pride.
People stop to talk to you, shake your hand, ask you about certain pieces. You find answering their questions is not as painful as you imagined, and their compliments make you feel lighter. You circle the room, finally coming to a stop in front of the biggest piece in the entire gallery.
At first glance, you think it’s hard to discern what’s really going on, but the longer you stare at it, the more the puzzle comes together. Or at least, you think so. You’ve been staring at it for four years.
It’s an expressionist piece, as all your paintings are, but this one is a touch abstract, stroked together in a way that seems almost unintentional.
It’s a painting of conflicting colors, some dark and moody, others bright. A push, and a pull. Three bodies lay on a bed, diaphragms torn open and bleeding. They're all reaching into each other's chests, blood coating their arms, curled up so tightly together it’s hard to discern where one ends and the other begins in some strokes.
There’s no emotion scrawled into their features, nothing to interpret. You did it intentionally, hoping to direct the focus to the piece as a whole. That’s the only way it works. The only way it makes sense.
“I like this one. It's intriguing. Feels sad, almost.” Someone says behind you, and you turn to see a tall man staring at it with a thoughtful gaze. Studying. “Will you tell me about it?”
Emotion clogs your throat. Your fingers trace over the plaque bearing its name.
Darling.
“It’s a love story.”
The bar stool is one of the spinning ones.
You keep turning around in it, in circles, laughing as Lea rolls her eyes. “Babe, you’re going to fall.” You tsk.
“You’re literally no fun.”
“We’re here celebrating you. I don’t want to be doing that in a hospital when you break a bone falling off that stool.” She tips her head towards the bartender. “Can we get another round please?”
“Sure thing.” You like this place. It’s got great natural light in the day, big, tall windows and sage green walls, gold accents littered throughout. It feels homey, and sweet.
“I think that went really well. How do you feel about it?”
How do you feel.
“I think so too. Once I got over the nerves I… I thought it was good.”
“You sold a lot of paintings.”
“I know.” You laugh. That’s the surprise of the night, if you’re being honest. The number of pieces you sold, to other galleries, to a museum.
A wild dream turned reality.
“You’re going to be a big-time fancy painter now, watch.”
“I’m sure that’s either a long way off, or not going to happen. Either way, I’m really happy. I’m really proud of myself.” The two of you sip your new drinks, and you twist again on the stool.
“Someone tried to buy Darling.” Lea says gently, eyes soft.
“I know.”
“You’re sure you didn’t want to sell it?” You shake your head. It might be your best, biggest piece, but it will never know a home other than yours. You started painting it four years ago, the first night you left her behind, and she’ll never belong to anyone, except you. She’s safe with you, protected by you, loved by you, like she always should have been.
Like she was, so reverently, by them.
You didn’t even want to display it tonight, if you’re being honest. But Lea convinced you, and you found it in yourself to be brave.
She lets you sit in your silence for a while, which you appreciate. She’s a true friend, one that doesn’t pressure you to do things or say things for the sake of them.
Usually.
“Well,” she clinks her glass against yours with a mischievous smile and then says much too loudly, loud enough faces and bodies turn towards yours in the bar, “here’s to my favorite painter and her first gallery showing.” Some people clap. Some people cheer. You glare at her. “What? Opposed to free drinks?” You spin on the stool again, smiling, and then catch a flash of someone walking towards a door, muscled shoulders-
And a mohawk.
Your heart trips over itself.
“I’ll be right back.” You tell Lea, who gives you a confused look, but you’re already moving through the room, unsteady on your heels.
You burst through the door into the cool air, autumn nipping at your exposed skin, and look up and down the street. Your pulse ricochets in your ears.
They’re a block away. The night is dark, and the streetlights are yellow, but you’d know them anywhere.
“Hey!” You yell. “Wait!” They turn, and you teeter towards them as fast as you can manage, startling to a stop a few feet before them.
Your heart hammers inside your chest. Standing here, staring at them, taking them in, soaking in it. They look good. Happy. Healthy. Johnny’s skin is glowing, Simon somehow seems bulkier than he did four years ago, but the weight suits him.
“Hi.” You breathe.
“Hi.” Johnny’s eyes sparkle, Simon’s lips turning up in a barely-there smile.
Words fail you. For the first time in a while, you don’t know what to say. Hundreds of thousands of things try to get free, but none of them make it, though your mouth opens. Nothing comes out.
“We saw yer name on the sign outside the gallery down the street earlier. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. It was… really neat.” Lame.
“It’s a big accomplishment. You must be very proud.” Johnny’s gaze never leave yours, and you nod.
“I am.” The three of you stand there, staring at one another.
“Well, we should get going.” Simon breaks first.
“Right. Of course. Uh, it was… it was good to see you.”
“Ye too.” You let them get half a block away, not even.
You know what you want to say. Delayed, held on your tongue too long in a wash of uncertainty, but it arises clear as day.
“Wait!” They turn, you take a deep breath. “Would you… would you maybe want to have dinner, or something, sometime? Catch up?”
“We’d love to.” It feels different now, but the good pieces, albeit changed, shifted, are still there.
“Great, it’s a… plan. To have dinner. Or something.” Johnny smiles, and Simon nods.
“It’s a plan. You’ll text us?”
“Yeah, I will.”
“See ye soon, then.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
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STRAWBERRIES & CIGARETTES | luke castellan.
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
summary: y/n and luke share strawberries and sweet moments together. the events of the series do not occur; 'tis essentially an au :) inspired by strawberries and cigarettes by troye sivan. wc: 2.1k key: n/n = nickname
taglist: @repostingmyfavs @rinisfruity14 @soobin-chois @alorastvr @amortencjja | pm or comment to be added <3
a/n: this is just pure fluff! i hope you have a great day/night <3
“n/n, babe, we’re here.” luke gently tapped his girl’s shoulder, watching the moonlight elucidate her features.
stirring awake, y/n turned towards her boy, a soft yawn escaping her lips. “was i asleep for too long?”
luke shrugged, “just enough i’d say. i don’t mind, it was peaceful.”
“hey!” she feigned offence, whacking him lightly on the arm. “that’s very rude.”
“hey,” he sarcastically deepened his voice, “not my fault you talk nonsense, lass.”
y/n stared at luke for a good minute before cringing. “don’t do that again, i beg of you.”
“you beg of me?” luke smirked, tilting his head down slightly, the shadows contouring his face.
“SHUT UP,” y/n practically yelled, fluster running through her body. “i’m gonna stash you in the trunk and drive back to camp.”
“too bad,” luke said, taking the keys out of the ignition and dangling them in front of her face. chris recently taught him a magic trick and this was the perfect moment to make use of it.
“the keys,” he quickly performed the trick, “are gone.”
y/n sent him a blank expression. “okay.”
“hey! that was a great magic trick!” he defended, knowing underneath her stoic look rested a look of adoration.
all in the meanwhile, y/n turned around and began shuffling into the backseat through the gap between her and luke. “are you gonna join me back here or not, lukey?”
“once your ass is out of my face, yes.”
rolling her eyes, y/n situated herself in the back of the camaro, leaning her back against the door and folding her knees up on the seat. she watched as her boyfriend lightly struggled to get through, but quickly caught onto her method of adjusting the seat first to allow more room.
within seconds, luke was in back, resting his head on y/n’s chest as she played with his hair. luke slowly slipped his arms around the girl’s waist, holding her tight as he focused on the sound of her breathing.
carefully looking up, he placed a soft kiss to her collarbone, bringing a slight tinge of red across her cheeks. it wasn’t as visible, but luke could feel her body warmth fluctuating.
“you’re beautiful,” he muttered against her skin. “you’re so damn beautiful.”
“you’re handsome,” y/n replied. “i’m surprised they’re letting you walk free when being this handsome’s illegal.”
luke grinned idiotically against her skin. without thinking twice, he hauled himself up along with y/n, placing her on his lap. looking up at her, he admired the way her eyes engulfed his, how her lips pursed, how her nose had a light scrunch when she grinned.
y/n could never understand the hold luke had on her. she was infatuated with his every move, her love growing everyday despite reaching the max a very long time ago.
pulling him closer, y/n feathered a kiss upon his lips, to which he responded eagerly. as they fell into a comfortable embrace, the two couldn’t fathom leaving each other’s lips for even a second.
but as time dwindled on, they knew they couldn’t get too comfortable else they’d lose focus on their surroundings and any incoming danger. breaking their session, luke leaned his head into y/n’s chest, now focusing on the rhythm of her heartbeat.
“want some strawberries? mr. d’s kids gave me two pints of them and some melted chocolate. hopefully it hasn't solidified by now,” y/n asked, realization hitting along the process.
luke nodded, a toothy smile playing on his lips. he carefully shuffled to the left side of the car as y/n moved to the right, grabbing the little picnic basket resting on the floor. “wanna take it outdoors?”
luke looked outside, scanning the area for any obvious threats. so far, nothing. “sure, i’ll grab the blanket from the trunk.” the couple ventured out and onto the grass with their necessities, unable to pry their eyes away from each other and/or the beautiful stream and meadow before them.
placing the picnic blanket down, luke grabbed the basket from y/n and began sorting things out. “y’know,” she started, watching him carefully, “i can’t wait to do this once we have kids, too.”
a visible blush overtook luke’s cheeks, and he fought back a gigantic smile. “why is that?”
“i don’t know, something about you looking like a 1950’s housewife right now is making me go feral.”
luke paused and raised an eyebrow, both of them stifling a little cackle before y/n contained herself and continued. “no, i guess just thinking about us having our own little family and being able to do things like this is a very sweet thought. they’d be all over us and give us absolutely no privacy, but they are a symbol of our love.”
luke couldn’t hold back his grin as he looked up at his girl. he has, unapologetically, always thought of how their kids would look like, what their names would be, the little trips and things they’d do as a family — and he’d tell all of this to chris.
after all, he was the one who played cupid and got them together. luke couldn’t help but still have him as his best-best man.
“i’d love nothing more than that,” he laughed, reaching for y/n’s hand which she accepted immediately. “they’d be very sweet children. crazy, but sweet.”
y/n’s smile stretched from ear to ear, and she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on luke’s forehead. “one day, castellan.”
“one day that’ll be your name, too, l/n.”
y/n softly giggled, trying to hide her excitement and happiness. biting her bottom lip to refrain herself from going even more ballistic, she reached over and dipped a strawberry into the chocolate. “oh wow, this isn’t dry yet.”
luke wiggled his fingers in front of her, “magic.”
shaking her head and laughing, the two began snacking on the berries and talking about the latest news on olympus, in camp, and even american politics.
“wait, so clarisse and chris might be a thing?” y/n gasped as luke filled her in on the latest camp news. “how did i not notice,” she deadpanned, gawking at the news after.
luke nodded, his eyes wide. “honestly, i think they’d be cute.” y/n agreed, laying down on her side and leaning on her elbow to prop her head up. “i think percy may like annabeth.”
luke stared dead ahead at her, raising his brow seriously this time. “what?”
“hey, i think it’s probably a mere crush,” she defended. “plus, they’re little, they won’t care about any of that until they’re older.”
“percy better treat her right if that is the case,” luke warned. “that is if annabeth reciprocates, too.”
“good point,” y/n noted, “but do keep in mind that this is the same boy who will do anything for his mother. he’s bound to treat a girl right.”
luke smiled at that, interlocking his fingers with y/n’s. “he is a great kid.”
“he definitely is.”
luke looked down at his wrist, the watch reading nine, realizing it was a bit past the time they were planning to leave. “we should get going now, love.”
y/n pulled a face, “oh shoot, you’re right.” she quickly got up and packed the food, tossing the car keys to luke.
luke was puzzled. “wait, how’d you get the keys?”
she smirked, mocking his finger wiggles, “magic.”
“there’s no way you outsmarted the son of the god of thieves —“
“suck it up, buttercup,” y/n responded, walking away with the basket and leaving him dumbfounded.
luke rushed after her with the blanket, and they carefully placed their stuff in the trunk. the sudden chill in the air brought goosebumps to y/n’s arms, but she paid no mind to it. her boyfriend, on the other hand, did notice.
“okay, off we go,” luke said, both of them entering the car. just as he turned on the ignition, there was a low rumble alerting them. “was that the car or something else?” y/n cautiously asked, looking outside.
“i’ll check it out, stay here,” luke’s voice was low as he hopped out. y/n rolled her eyes as she followed after — there was no way she’d let her boyfriend go out alone when there was potential danger around them.
“y/n, really?” he cocked his head to the side.
she shrugged, moving to stand beside him. listening carefully while staring at luke, her mouth formed into an ‘o’. “it’s the car. we gotta check the hood.”
“damn, nice ears,” he complimented, unclasping the hood and looking closely at the engine. y/n raised a brow, “would be sad if i didn’t considering dad’s hephaestus.”
luke paused, “oh yeeeah!” y/n shook her head and whacked his arm again with the back of her hand, chuckling lightly. moving closer to look at the engine, she muttered a quick “ah.”
“are we screwed?”
“nah, bud needs an oil change. we got any?”
luke nodded slowly. “i think we do in the back?”
y/n sprinted to the trunk, popping it open and looking closely. in the far back rested the oil, and just enough of it. she was terrified there wouldn’t be enough for a good second.
grabbing the jug and funnel, she ran back to her boyfriend, lightly shoving him out of her way. luke was mesmerized as he watched his girlfriend work away on something that was effortless for her.
despite the heat of the engine, the goosebumps didn’t leave y/n’s skin. luke felt like a shitty boyfriend for not doing so sooner, thus he instantly took off his blue flannel and rested it on her shoulders, letting it wrap around her body on it’s own. y/n smiled at the gesture, soaking in the warmth.
“okay, i think we should be good to go,” y/n commented after a brief moment of silence. luke went ahead to put the items away as y/n ran to the stream to quickly cleanse her hands.
“i’ve got your handkerchief, by the way, babe!” luke yelled, letting his girl know in case she forgot.
“thank you, love!”
y/n sprinted towards luke, opening her arms a little. he could tell what she was up to instantaneously; he stashed her handkerchief in his pocket and stepped a metre or so away from the car.
just as she neared him, luke opened his arms and ran to her, catching her as she jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist. their laughter filled the air as he spun her around, both their smiles illuminated by the moonlight.
luke softly placed y/n down against the car door, leaning down and pressing his lips against her’s. responding without hesitation, the two kissed for a mere moment, pulling away and resting their foreheads on each other’s.
“this is nice,” y/n whispered. “we should do this more often.”
“we should,” luke agreed, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose.
the drive back to camp was amicable, but the second they entered the big house, they were met with a confused mr. d and percy.
“why do you guys smell like cigarettes?” the latter asked, his blue eyes full of curiosity.
“why are you with mr. d?” y/n lightly retorted.
mr. d rolled his eyes at percy, “that’s not tobacco smoke, peter, that’s car smoke. what’d you two do to the car?”
“nothing!” luke chimed, “it’s perfectly fine. just needed an oil change is all.”
“the oil was fine, did you do anything on the hood?” he asked, trying not to be exposed near chiron for failing to commit to his duty; he was ordered to let the hephaestus kids know half the vans and cars needed an oil change three weeks ago.
“gods, no!” percy responded horrifically for them, “not this here, not right now!”
“nonono nothing happened!” y/n reassured, but before she could say anything more, luke stepped in. “why lie, n/n? you know it’s true.”
he had a smirk growing on his face, one y/n was terrified to see but could tell there was a reason beneath the layer of insinuation.
“bah, forget it. that car belongs to you two, i don’t even wanna be near it!" mr. d cringed as he left the room, unwilling to hear any more.
percy’s eyes darted back and forth between the two, suspicion rising. he lowered his voice, “you guys lied just to keep the car didn’t you?”
“no, not at all,” luke replied convincingly, following with a quick wink.
y/n laughed at both the boys, the three soon walking down towards camp.
that long night felt like an endless daydream.
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