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monzabee · 10 months

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déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) – ln4

masterlist

Summary: The one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.

Pairing: lando norris x bestfriend!reader (nicknamed Tink)

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut elements but no actual smut, cursing, pining and of course fluff!

Request: “Haiiii. I love your style of writing Lando and feel like you would 100% do a request justice to scratch the itch in my brain Reader and him have been childhood friends, mutual pining with some sexual tension but never crossed lines other than a new years kiss with friends etc. So reader ends up training and qualifying as a physio/masseuse and travelling with Lando bc fun besties on tour together yay! Thinking she ends up getting to know his body really well from that and has to massage some intimate area- tension builds blah. They have a cosy night in together after front row quali to prep for the race, face masks cuddles bc really physically comfortable together and then some confessions happen. After this going out to celebrate home race (not jinxing tomorrow!!) and reader ends up dancing with another driver, Lando gets jealous fully opens up and they go home together (as much detail on that as you feel comfortable with) No probs if it’s something you don’t feel inspired to write! Pls continue writing whatever you love because I love to read your stuff!!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! am i back after a literal month of no fics?? i hope so!! thank you so much for being patient with me you guysi i appreciate it, and i just want to say that this was the first time i wrote for lando (and you can definitely thank @userlando and her lando brainrot posts for that) and i’m kind of obsessed!! so as always, thank you to the anon for the request, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Being friends with Lando has resulted in both of you getting in trouble way too many times, you realise. The most recent case? The both of you ended up in a supply closet nearby the Aston Martin hospitality, hiding from a very, very, angry Spaniard. The close proximity and the limited space wouldn’t have been a big issue, for if Lando wasn’t looking at you with that look in his eyes. Under normal other circumstances, your reaction would’ve been much more different to the one you give him now – which is a glare that shows him you are not happy with the situation the both of you are in.

You’re about to scold him, but the words on your tongue quickly die as he presses his index finger to your lips. “I know you’re about to yell at me,” he whispers as he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, “but I really don’t want to be found right now.”

“Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before, you bloody idiot.” You hiss while slapping his hand away, which wins you a mock pout in return. “Why would you play that song every time he walked into a room?”

“It’s his name,” Lando tries to reason, “I thought he’d be used to it by now!”

Here’s the sitch. Lando, being the absolute prankster he is, decided to play ‘Fernando’ every time his former teammate entered into a room that morning – which resulted in the Spaniard becoming more and more annoyed with him until he snapped and Lando had to find himself a hiding place. How did you get roped into this, you may ask? You have absolutely no idea, other than your best friend dragging you into a nearby storage closet as you were walking back to the McLaren hospitality after meeting up with some of your friends for a cup of coffee. And now? The two of you are stuck inside a closet which is obviously too small for you both, and Lando has to bend his neck in an uncomfortable position.

“Lando,” you whisper in an attempt to keep your voice down, “don’t bend your head like that, you’ll strain something.”

“Well it’s not exactly comfortable, Tink.” He grimaces as one of the shelves hit his neck, which causes him to let out a low groan.

Ignoring the nickname he’s used for years, you motion him to move lower. “Just– let me see, okay?”

He begrudgingly nods as he bends his body towards you to accommodate you. You let your fingers run across his skin to find any knots along his shoulders. He lets out another low groan, but this one is more appreciative as you work some of the knots your fingers end up finding.

You watch as Lando’s expression changes from painful discomfort to relief as your fingers work their magic on his tense muscles. For a brief moment, it's just the two of you in the confined space, and you almost get lost in the comfortable silence. “Feels good,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I swear you have magic hands or something.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, “I just know your body, Lando.” After realising the words that come out of your mouth, your face flushes with embarrassment at the unintended implication of your words and you scramble to add, “Not like that, I didn’t mean–”

He smirks playfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, really? My body, huh? You think about my body often?” he teases, his hands squeezing your waist – and being lost in the moment, you don’t even know how they ended up there.

Your cheeks grow even hotter, and you feel your heart rate quicken. “No, that's not what I meant,” you stammer, trying to regain your composure, “and you know it’s basically my job to think about, you know?”

The mischievous glint in his eyes shine brightly as he decides to play dumb, “To think about what, baby?”

Your heart skips a beat at his teasing, and you can't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, Lando,” you retort, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I meant knowing your body like an expert, considering the fact that you pull a muscle every time you decide to do a physical activity.”

He chuckles, and his hands, still resting on your waist, give you a playful squeeze. "Sure, sure, Tink," he replies, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "But let's be honest, it's not just my body you know well. You practically read my mind too."

You roll your eyes, trying to playfully push him away. "Oh, please. You're not that hard to figure out."

Lando leans in a little closer, his grin still evident. "Is that so? Then tell me, oh expert of Lando Norris, what am I thinking right now?"

You raise an eyebrow, not falling for his trick. "You're probably thinking that you got away with the Fernando prank and now you owe me big time, your brain is empty most of the time."

He smirks, impressed by your response. "You're good, Tink. But you're right, I do owe you one. What can I do to make it up to you?"

You pause, the closeness between the two of you making it difficult to think clearly. "Well, for starters, maybe you can stop dragging me into your pranks and getting us into trouble," you suggest with a hint of a smile. “And I don’t know, maybe take pole for me, you know?”

As the playful banter continues, you both seem to forget about the predicament you're in. The confined space of the closet no longer feels suffocating; instead, it becomes a haven for shared laughter and camaraderie.

Just as the two of you are lost in the moment, the closet door suddenly opens, and you both freeze. The angry Spaniard stands before you once again, but this time, his expression has softened, seeing you and Lando in a surprisingly intimate moment.

"Am I interrupting something?" Fernando asks, his tone amused.

Your face turns beet red, and Lando lets out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, hey there. Just having a chat, you know."

But Fernando raises an eyebrow, still looking amused. "In a supply closet?"

You and Lando exchange a sheepish glance, realizing how the situation must appear to Fernando. "Well, we kind of got caught up in the moment," you admit, hoping he doesn't read too much into it.

Fernando chuckles, and there's a warm glint in his eyes. "I see. Well, it's none of my business, but you might want to find a less cramped place to chat next time."

You nod in agreement, grateful that Fernando seems to be taking the situation lightly. "You're right. We'll keep that in mind," you say, trying to sound casual.

Lando adds with a grin, "Yeah, and we promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on." But he’s quick to correct himself when you give him a glare, “I promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on."

Fernando chuckles again, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal. "I'd appreciate that. Anyway, carry on. I won't keep you two any longer."

As he walks away, you let out a sigh of relief. "That could have been a lot worse," you say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

"Yeah, we got lucky," Lando agrees, giving you a playful nudge. "But you know what they say, Tink, nothing like a bit of closet bonding to strengthen a friendship."

You roll your eyes at his playful banter, but there's a fondness in your heart as you look at him. "You're incorrigible, Lando Norris."

He grins, "You love it, though."

You can't help but smile, knowing he's right. “Come on,” you say, “you have a quali to attend.”

The tension from the qualifying session had left you on edge, your heart pounding with every lap, and your nerves had gotten the better of you, leading to some slightly bloody nails from biting them in anticipation. But all that anxiety melts away when you see Lando step out of the car, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he catches sight of you, he opens his arms, and you don't hesitate for a moment. You rush into his embrace, holding him tightly, relieved that he's safe and thrilled that he performed so well.

"You were amazing out there!" you exclaim, unable to hide the pride in your voice. "P2, front row! That's incredible!"

Lando chuckles, his arms still wrapped around you. "I don’t know how we did it!"

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with admiration for your best friend. "I never doubted you for a second," you say earnestly.

His grin widens, and he playfully ruffles your hair. "I know you didn't. Seems like you’re my lucky charm, hm?"

“You know what that means?” You ask him return, a playful smirk on your lips.

His answer comes quickly, and his look seems to reflect your own, “Pizza and a movie?”

Your reply is just as enthusiastic as you throw your arms around him and give him a big smile, “Pizza and a movie, baby!”

Eventually, you manage to escape the whole hustle and bustle of the circuit, and you and Lando find yourselves back at the hotel, with you on the couch trying to find something to watch and him deciding to take a quick shower after the stressful day of qualifying. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. You smile to yourself, glad that Lando is taking some time to relax after such a demanding day. As you wait for him to finish, you finally settle on a movie to watch with a small grin on your face, clearly pleased with your choice. Just as you're about to start the movie, you hear the bathroom door open, and Lando emerges, looking refreshed and relaxed.

After he gets the pizza box out of the oven, he walks over to the couch, wearing sweatpants instead of his jeans, and flops down next to you. "That shower was exactly what I needed," he says with a contented sigh.

You chuckle, glancing at him, while also trying to actively ignore the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants. "Feeling better now?"

"Definitely," he replies, flashing you a grin. "So, what are we watching?"

“Mamma Mia,” you scoff, “of course.”

“A classic, nice.” He nods in understanding, extending the pizza box to you for you to take a slice. “It’s still warm.”

You wordlessly grab a slice and pass the box back to Lando as you settle in your seat, ready to focus on your choice of movie. The comfortable silence between you feels familiar, like the unspoken language of best friends who have shared countless memories and moments together. Throughout the movie, you can't help but notice Lando's occasional stolen glances at you, and you find yourself stealing glances right back. He even winks at you with that boyish grin every time he catches you staring at him, making you giggle as you quickly turn your attention back onto the screen. You somehow find yourself sprawled out on the couch once the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and it’s harder for you to keep your eyes open. With your head on Lando’s lap, he plays with the ends of your hair as the two of you try to keep your attention on the screen.

‘Try,’ being the operative word here, since Lando realises that you end up falling asleep in the middle of the movie where Sophie realises all of the men she invited to the wedding thinks they are her father, and though he finds some kind of comfort in the chaos knowing that it will get resolved eventually, he can’t help but take his role as a makeshift human pillow very seriously. As the movie continues playing, Lando tries his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He leans back against the couch, adjusting his position so you can rest more comfortably on his lap while also trying so hard to not wake you up. He can't help but smile to himself as he plays with your hair, finding himself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.

With a sudden realisation that maybe it is not the best thing to stare at you while you sleep, he tries to occupy himself with something on his phone while also trying to keep still so that you don’t wake up. However, the text thread between him and Max quickly makes him realise that the thoughts that he tries so hard to keep away. He never gave himself the opportunity to think about the two of you that way, he supposes. Not that it would be weird or anything, but in his mind, he’d seen, and been in, far too many relationships form and de-form to know that not all is permanent when it comes to relationships and it’s also not something he’d want to risk when it comes to you. Although the unwarranted thoughts of the two of you together, as a couple, have been haunting him for the past couple of months, he did a great job of sending them away and finding something else to focus on – up until now, that is. And now that he’s pictured the two of you together, holding hands in the streets of Monaco, going on dates, doing more than what ‘best friends’ are meant to do, it doesn’t seem that daunting to give it a try.

He carefully shifts you onto his lap with gentle movements, surprised that you don’t wake up and also trying to figure out the best way to wake you up without startling you. As he gently brushes your cheek, your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a sleepy smile. "Did I miss the end of the movie?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.

Lando chuckles, shaking his head, but not stilling the movement of his hand. “No, we just finished. You fell asleep somewhere in the middle.”

You sit up slightly, rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. “I'm sorry,” you say, sounding apologetic.

“No need to apologise,” he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You looked adorable sleeping, Tink.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, and you give him a playful nudge. “Stop teasing me.”

Lando grins, but there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you. “I'm not teasing, Tink. I mean it. You always look adorable, no matter what you're doing.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his sincere compliment, and you can't help but smile back. “Thank you,” you say softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you, “I, uh, I should probably go to my room and let you sleep.”

“What? No, you don’t have to go.” Lando’s eyebrows furrow on their own, “I mean, you could stay over, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

You give him an unsure look, “I don’t know, Lando, you have a race tomorrow.”

“And we’ll sleep,” he shrugs, “the name ‘sleepover’ implies that, baby.”

You end up giving in and nodding, albeit a little hesitant. "Alright, I'll stay over."

Lando's face lights up with a bright smile, clearly pleased with your decision. "Great! It'll be fun, just like old times."

You chuckle softly. "Yeah, just like old times."

And you’d expect it to feel like the old times, because the two of you said it would be like the old times – the times where you’d spend the night over at his house because his mother picked you up and you didn’t want the playtime to be over. But instead of the excitement of a prolonged play date with your best friend, you find yourself anxious in the hotel bathroom over the fact that it’s him out there, and there is no way that he is not aware of the way you feel about him. You take a moment to compose yourself, splashing some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. This situation is new territory for both of you, and you don't want anything to ruin the friendship the two of you have. When you eventually make your way out of the bathroom, you desperately want to go back in, feeling undoubtedly exposed under Lando’s burning gaze.

“What?” You ask, your voice coming off weaker than you hoped, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

It takes a minute for him to answer you, mainly because of the fact that poor Lando is having a brain malfunction at the sight of you in his shirt – which he gave it to you because it was the only logical option for sleepwear, you know? Suddenly regretting his possessive streak, he attempts to clear his throat, “Nothing, you look good in my clothes.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try not to let yourself become reduced to a blubbering mess, “Oh, well thank you. It’s yours,” after a brief moment of realisation you quickly add, “but you already knew that.”

“Tink,” he calls out, snapping you out of whatever embarrassed state you’re in, and your eyes quickly snap to his. “Come here,” he pleads as he extends one of his towards you, he’s quick to draw you into his arms – and just like that, you find yourself straddling your best friend.

“This is crazy,” you whisper as Lando grabs you by the waist to still your movements as you try to find a comfortable position while not realising just how uncomfortable it becomes for him.

“It doesn’t have to be,” his whisper is just as soft as yours as he looks up to you, “we don’t have to make it weird.”

A compromise, you’ll take it. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” As much as you hate it when he replies to your questions with his own, you nod your head with a sheepish look on your face, though it doesn’t satisfy Lando as a valid answer. “I need you to say it, baby.”

You answer comes of in an instant. “I do, please.”

“Such good manners,” he mumbles while giving you that boyish grin you love oh so much. When he catches biting the corner of your lip, you’re broken out of your daydream by his thumb pulling your lip free. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” his thumb caresses the side of your lip, “that’s my job, anyway.”

Your cheeks flush at his playful comment, and you can't help but smile at his words. "Your job, huh?" you tease, feeling the tension in the air starting to dissipate.

Lando chuckles, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your waist. "Among other things," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before you give yourself the opportunity to overthink, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Lando’s lips – it’s only a peck, a hesitant one at that, but not completely uncharted territory when you think about it. The two of you have shared kisses before, at Christmas or New Year’s at midnight, but somehow this simple peck feels different than any of those other occasions. Lando doesn’t rush you. He’s a patient man after all, and he knows that the feelings he has for you are reciprocated by the feelings you have for him. So when you look him with widened eyes, he gives you a soft smile and it does wonders to calm your nerves. It doesn’t take you long to press your lips against his once again, but this time the kiss is deeper, more passionate, and filled with the unspoken words that have lingered between you for too long.

It starts off with another peck, but this time you take the initiative to deepen the kiss, and the appreciative groan that leaves Lando’s lips makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hands move from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, while yours tangle in his hair, revelling in the softness of his curls – and the fact that all of this feels almost familiar in some kind of a way. He’s not shy as he lets his tongue explore your mouth, in fact, he encourages you to do the same. It’s a messy kiss filled with colliding tongues and mixed breaths, and the hands that were on your waist one moment are now on your hips, encouraging their slow movement against his groin. It’s not a subtle build-up for any of you, either. It a matter of seconds, you find yourself dry-humping your childhood best friend in his hotel room, and in a couple more, both of you are whimpering into the kiss.

You’re both out of breath and breathing deeply as you rest your forehead against Lando’s. Thankfully, his hands continue to guide your hips as their movement get more and more erratic, and you him groan out, “Slow down, baby.”

You let out an objective whimper in return, whispering out a weak, “No.”

“No?” Lando repeats, his breath hitting your exposed neck in a light chuckle, “Do you want to come?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, letting your hands grab handfuls of his hair, “but you can’t fuck me.”

The whine that comes from your lips can only be described as bratty when Lando forces your hips to cease their movements, raising an eyebrow at you as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”

“You can’t fuck me, Lando.” You mumble, trying to move your hips again, but his hold is too powerful against your attempts. “At least not tonight.”

“And why is that, Tink?” He takes in your wide eyes and shuddering breath in, thinking he’d done something wrong, something you didn’t like. “You want to come, no?” He thinks at that moment, as you give him a nod with that dreamy and almost innocent look on your face, he could die and he’d be happy with where his life has led him, but he gives you a confused look, “Then what is the problem?”

“Um, you have a race tomorrow,” you explain as your fingers gently slide down to meet at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to jinx anything.”

As a respond to your words, Lando gives you a look of disbelief, “You don’t want to jinx me having a good race,” he mumbles.

You give him another nod, “Are you mad at me?”

“Am I mad at you?” Lando repeats the question, and he flips the two of you over in a smooth motion so that you're lying on the bed with him hovering above you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Answer the question for me, will you?”

You take a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “No,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Why would you be mad at me?”

Lando's lips curve into a playful smile as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, “Good girl.” As he moves down your body, you let out a protesting sound, but he quickly shushes you as he positions himself between your legs. “I’m going to make you come, and you’re not talking to Micheal Italiano ever again.” He taps the side of your hips to signal you to raise them up as he carefully takes off your underwear and then murmurs to himself, “Pretty girl, too.”

With a blush which is quickly spreading onto your cheeks and neck, you raise yourself onto your elbows as you watch him give you the do-over. “Lando,” you plead.

“Oh baby, you're wet,” he teases, “don’t worry, though, I’ll help you with that.” He also gives you a look while grabbing both of your thighs, “And the shirt fucking stays on.”

After the events of the previous night with Lando working wonders between your legs for the remainder of the night, he honestly didn’t expect to start the morning with you returning the favour. Alas there you were, between his legs, with sleepy eyes and an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just given him the best blowjob of his life. And as the two of you make your way along the paddock, he wishes he was back in his hotel room with you in his arms. You try your best to distract him from overthinking everything and costing himself the race, and Lando is aware of what you’re trying to do – though that doesn’t mean you succeed completely.

You can tell by the small frown of eyebrows that he is lost inside his head, probably double guessing every aspect of the strategy his team debriefed him about this morning. With a deep inhale, you give his hand a small squeeze, halting your movements to stop him alongside you. “Hey,” you call out gently, “you’re going to be amazing out there, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know, it’s just the pressure is getting to me.” You watch him sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts, “I’ll be fine before I go in the car, I promise.”

You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “I know you will. After all, you feel the–”

“Need for speed.” He completes the sentence without thinking, which makes the two of share a short laughter. “Thanks, Tink.”

“You’re welcome,” lifting yourself up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft peck on his lips, “I’ll watch the race with your dad, okay?” You chuckle at his reaction when he lets out a prolonged groan, “What?”

“He’s going to make fun of us, big time.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Go,” you say in between laughter, “don’t be late and for the love of God, be careful!”

Lando chuckles at your playful warning, giving you a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am!”

It doesn’t take long for you to find Adam, who gives you a knowing look, in the sea of spectators in the McLaren garage. And as the race begins, you and Adam stand side by side, your eyes fixed on the track where the race is unfolding. The first four laps as the Lando leads the race makes your heart beat so hard, you can practically feel the excitement coursing through your veins. Each turn and straightaway that Lando navigates flawlessly adds to the anticipation building in the air. Even when he returns to his original position, you’re on the edge, praying to whatever deity up there for him to finish this race without and incident. You’ve told him million times before that you don’t get F1 at all, you’ve always thought the adrenaline linked with the sport to be a negative feeling – too heavy, too much and definitely not something you want to feel every weekend. But in the moment that Lando passes the finishing line P2, you realise why people are so obsessed with this sport. Because when Lando crosses the finish line, you find yourself cheering as loudly as anyone else. The rush of emotions, once alien to you, now feels like a shared celebration of human achievement and dedication.

Lando is all smiles when he finally finds his way back to you, and he’s giving you a kiss the moment he has you back in his arms; celebrating with the team in the paddock was a whirlwind of emotions. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, his big smile is infectious.

So you’re honestly confused when he starts dragging you through the hallways of the club you went to for his celebrations with the rest of the team. The beat of the music playing back in the dancefloor echoes in the hallway as he leads you down the hall. The lights, the laughter, and the energy of the celebrations in the main area of the club are still audible, but you can only hear the muffled sounds of the celebration being held for him. “Lando,” in hopes of finally getting some answers, you say his name for the umpteenth time, but he just looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”

He's silent as he wraps his arms around your waist and before you can repeat your question he buries his head in the crook of your neck. While you’re thinking about what could’ve caused his sudden need to be alone with you, he’s very glad that you’ve opted to wear sneakers tonight instead of heels.

“Baby,” you murmur, your fingers running through his curls in an attempt to bribe him, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.” His voice is muffled by your skin and you can feel the breath he exhales on your shoulder.

You purse your lips and give him a few moments for him to break on his own, but when he doesn’t, you sigh softly. “Something is wrong.”

He raises his head momentarily to give you an unamused look, then bury his head back into your neck, “I saw you and Oscar.”

“Yeah, we were talking about the race.” Your confirmation leaves you confused as he lets out a scoff, and you find yourself warily asking, “Is there something wrong with that?”

You hear him scoff again and then, “Well I didn’t particularly like it.”

You gently push him off of you as you try to look past his confused expression and pouted lips, “You didn’t like me talking to your teammate… about your race.”

“Well when you put it like that–”

“Lando he is two years younger than us, and he has a girlfriend you do realise that, don’t you?” Your hands rest on either side of your body on your hips as you give him a small grin, “You were jealous, weren’t you?”

His eyes widen as he nods, “Well yeah, Tink, I think that one was very much obvious when I dragged you here.”

“I mean,” you drawl, “it was kind of cute, you know?”

As his eyes narrow, Lando walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the wall. “Well I am a cute person.”

“Oh yeah,” you let out a giggle, “the cutest.” Your fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt while you look up at him to meet his eyes, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we should probably get back to the party?” He mumbles, his eyes drifting as he looks around the hall.

You fist the collar of his shirt as you raise yourself up on your tiptoes, your voice lowering down for only him to hear even if it’s a deserted hallway, “You don’t have a race tomorrow.”

His eyes come back down to meet yours, “Well yes, it’s Mond– oh,” it takes a moment for him to realise what you’ve meant, and you’re thrown over his shoulder in an instant.

“Wha– Lando put me down!” You shriek, “What are you doing?”

His voice is playful as he starts walking towards the back door of the club, “We are not leaving that hotel room for a few days.”

It doesn’t take long for you to start laughing, “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs the opposite shoulder, “but I’m your idiot.”

The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but you can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you murmur, “Yeah, yeah you are.”

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happy74827 · 6 months

Text

Bittersweet Blunders

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: In what was supposed to be the "perfect date" turns into an absolute dumpster fire of a night. Fortunately for Mike, you couldn't care at all about it.

WC: 4295

Category: Mega Fluff

So it seems that a lot of people like my Mike fics (yay), so I wrote another one because why not. At this point, my entire masterlist will just consist of this man, and I'm 100% here for it. Also, I don't know why fluff is the hardest for me to write, but this is my attempt at a full-on cuteness overload without a drop of angst (I apparently live for the drama), so we'll see how this goes.

『••✎••』

You were a very bubbly, cheerful person. You always thought that it was one of the best qualities that someone could have, and while it wasn't always the case, it always helped you in the past to brighten up anyone's day, as well as the other way around. You were always the life of the party, and you'd always make sure that everyone had a great time whenever you were with them.

It was probably one of the reasons Mike had liked you so much, though it had taken him quite some time to admit it to himself. He didn't want to believe it at first; after all, Mike was usually the guy who kept his feelings in, but as time went on, he couldn't keep denying the fact that he liked your presence and always wanted to be around you.

For him, you were a ray of sunshine in his otherwise very dull life. Sure, Abby had been a joy, and still is, but you... you were just special in a way that Mike couldn't explain. You had a certain quality about you that he couldn't describe, and he's never been able to figure out what it is that made you stand out so much to him. You were the complete opposite of him. His black clothes, your bright smile. His gloominess, your cheerfulness. His silence, your bubbly voice. His abrasive demeanor, your kind words.

Even though you were completely opposite of him in personality, there was one thing that you both shared in common. You were both attracted to each other in a way that you couldn't explain, even to yourself. But it was a feeling that you were sure of, and the fact that you're finally together made you realize why.

When he had started dating you, it had been like the clouds parted for him. The sky cleared up, and everything felt right again. He felt like his life was finally stitching itself back together, and suddenly, he and Abby were a lot closer, too. It was almost like a weight was lifted off of his chest, and he was finally able to breathe again.

Your relationship was very new to him, as you were the first relationship he'd ever had. But now that you were with him, he wouldn't have it any other way. You were just... you. You made him happy in a way that no one else had, and he was determined to make sure that you felt the same way.

Of course, you felt the same way.

For you, Mike was your best friend. He had been the one person who'd been able to make you smile in your worst moments. He was always there when you needed him, and you'd always made sure to do the same thing for him. He was your ray of sunshine despite him not acting much like one. You loved the little things that made him tick, like his strange fascination with coffee and the fact that he always had a blanket in the car with him, just in case he was tired or cold. It made him feel like home to you.

And it was exactly how Mike felt with you, too, obviously for different reasons, of course, but all the same. He loved every single thing about you, no matter what. Your personality, your voice, even the way you walk, he loved every single bit of it. The first time you two had kissed, it was almost as though fireworks were going off all around you both, and Mike could've sworn he heard angels sing as well.

You were a ray of sunshine to him, and now that you were in his life, he couldn't see himself without you. He loved you more than he could say, and he was determined to show that to you, always.

That's why he decided he would take the day off of work to plan out the perfect date for you two. He didn't know exactly what you were into; you always seemed to be good with anything, but he knew he had to try and do something nice. After all, you were worth it. You were the most special person in his life, second to Abby, of course, but special just the same.

So he set off to find you a nice place to have dinner, a thing neither one of you had done since the start of the relationship. You had usually just eaten at his place or gone somewhere that served coffee (somewhere more in Mike's price range), but he wanted something a bit fancier; after all, today was special, and he saved up enough to make it happen. He wanted you to have a nice day out, just like you always did for him whenever he had a bad day.

He eventually found you a place, a fancy Italian restaurant that he thought you would like, and made reservations for a place with a nice view of the sunset, just so you could watch it with him. It was going to be a great night.

Of course, it had been the complete opposite of what Mike had thought it would be. Two hours before the planned evening, the person covering his job for him just had to cancel on him at the last minute, leaving him to panic. He hadn't told you the surprise for the evening at all, so he had to make several, several calls just to find a replacement for his job and then to find a babysitter for Abby. Max... Well, Max wasn't around much anymore, and since you were the usual babysitter for Abby, it took Mike a while to find someone who was available, and even when he did, it took nearly twenty minutes for them to show up.

But he got it fixed and done in good time. His car was a little bit messy, and his "nice" shirt might have been a little wrinkly for the occasion, but to see the smile on your face when you got to his car made it worth it.

"You're wearing a tie," you commented, your face full of surprise as you hopped inside

"What can I say? It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing," Mike replied, turning the ignition and starting the car. He looked back at you, the smile on your face making his heart flutter just as much as it had the first time he'd laid his eyes on you. "Did I, um... You look great."

You were wearing a very nice dress, something that Mike had always loved on you, and it fit you very well. It was a light pink color, with a flowy skirt and a short-sleeved top, but it complimented you so well that he wondered why he hadn't seen it on you before. It made you look stunning, in his opinion.

"Thanks," you replied. "You look pretty handsome yourself, Mikey."

Oh, how he loved that nickname. It was one of the few things that Mike loved hearing you call him, even if it was in a joking matter. It made him feel special when he heard it, like you were just so happy to be around him that it was just another way of saying so. He smiled as he pulled out of the driveway, the engine rumbling below his feet. "So, you hungry?"

"Oh, yeah," you said, "I could totally eat."

Mike smiled. "Good ‘cause I found us the most amazing Italian restaurant, and I think you'll love it,"

Mike was right, of course. You did love it. The atmosphere was perfect, and the scenery was divine, with the sun setting in the distance and the colors it created splashed across the sky. Mike had even thought ahead to get a table right next to the window to give you the perfect view. Unfortunately, the sight from the entrance was the only view you got to see.

When it got to the hostess, it turned out that they had accidentally given his reservation to a family with four kids, and you and Mike were now stuck in between a large family with several children and the bathroom. The food had already been ordered and delivered to your table, but you didn't even get a chance to start your meal before you heard the sounds of a crying baby. And when you looked up, you were faced with a crying child who seemed to be a year or so younger than Abby, sitting on the table in front of you.

You tried to ignore it at first, hoping that they would fall asleep and stop crying, but the baby didn't seem to be willing to stop any time soon, and it seemed you weren't the only one who was annoyed by it. You glanced over at Mike and you realized that he looked about one second away from punching the baby and throwing it across the restaurant.

You decided to take action before he could do that.

"How's... uh, work going?" You asked, trying to make conversation as you sat up a little bit straighter and began to wipe your fingers clean, preparing yourself for whatever came next.

Mike didn't answer, instead choosing to grunt.

You decided to try and lighten the mood just a little bit. "It can't be that bad. You're still alive."

Just as the words left your mouth, the baby started crying even louder. You looked over at the family that was sitting in front of you and noticed that none of them looked like they were planning to do anything about it. Great parenting

"That baby might not be," he grumbled, not even bothering to keep his voice down anymore. "Even Abby and her tantrums don't make me want to run into traffic, and they're on a whole other level,"

"A crying child is not going to make you run into traffic, Mike," you replied.

"It might," he argued. "I might."

You laughed, shaking your head at the man sitting in front of you. "Have you always been this dramatic?"

Mike was quiet for a moment before shrugging and letting out a sigh. His annoyance allowed you to take a look at his features for a moment, something you hadn't really done for a while. Usually, when you two hung out, he was always so busy that you didn't really get to notice the difference in expression and stance he would usually have, but now that you were finally able to look at him, you noticed a slight change in him. He looked... tired, you'd say. Tired, but at the same time, happier than he usually was. You couldn't exactly tell how he was feeling at the time, probably complete annoyance because of the crying baby, but he did look like he was smiling just a bit more than usual.

And you loved seeing it. You loved seeing him happy, even if it wasn't the happiest situation that you two could've been in. You still wanted to see his smile, and you couldn't help but smile yourself at how happy he looked when he was around you, even with all the surrounding annoyance.

"Do you remember," you began, "when we first started dating? You were so nervous, and you were scared that you were gonna mess it up, and I said to you that there was no way you could ever do that, right?"

"I mean, it's not like you were lying," he shrugged, leaning back against his chair, picking up a glass of water, and taking a small sip. "I was a mess."

"Well, you still are a mess, a hot one but still... you got over it, didn't you?" You smiled.

Mike paused for a moment, placing his glass down on the table again. He was silent before he glanced up at you. His eyes were wide, and he almost looked... stunned. He was definitely surprised.

"It's not rhetorical, Mikey, but I'm going to take that as a yes," you continued.

"That was... that was different," he said.

"Well, yeah, of course it was," you replied. "That was a few months ago. Now it's a crying baby who you believe is ruining your life,"

He rolled his eyes and sighed, clearly annoyed by the whole thing. You knew that he wasn't actually upset; however, if he were, you'd have felt him shift in his seat like he always did when he felt uncomfortable or uncomfortable. But he hadn't moved a single bit. He wasn't even fidgeting. He just sat there and kept staring at you.

Mike never said anything, though, and neither did you. You just kept staring at each other, even when the baby eventually stopped crying. For a moment, there was peace, a sort of silent bliss that you couldn't exactly explain, and then the peace was suddenly ruined again.

Mike had wanted a refill of his drink, and when the waiter returned with a pitcher and many other drinks from various tables, the serving plate somehow made its way down Mike's shirt and all over his clothes, the various liquids from water to alcohol all splattered on his clothes. And Mike? Mike didn't even flinch. He closed his eyes and sighed, gritting his teeth and tensing up a bit, and you saw that he was clenching the sides of his chair with his hands, but otherwise, he didn't make any other movements, no reaction at all. Then, to make matters worse, the baby started crying again.

Mike and you both stared at each other again, your eyes wide and your mouths slightly parted. You knew exactly how Mike was feeling, and you wanted nothing more than to do something about it, but you didn't know what to do.

"Mike, do you—" you began, feeling really bad for him.

"I need to... go to the bathroom," he interrupted you, and you nodded in response. He stood up from his seat, walked around you and the other family, and then headed towards the bathroom. You were left to sit in your seat, staring at the family in front of you as they ate and chatted amongst themselves. You didn't say anything, but you weren't exactly happy with what was happening, either.

You glanced over to the bathroom door, hoping that Mike would come out of there soon so you could ask him if he was okay, but you were unable to leave. The waiter came back a few minutes later with a towel to help Mike clean off the liquid from his clothes, and once he had it in hand, you found the strength to leave your seat and follow Mike into the bathroom.

You didn't step inside, however, instead choosing to lean against the wall by the entrance. The bathroom was a lot emptier than the restaurant was, and it seemed a lot quieter, too, the only sound that you could hear coming from the faucet by the sinks. You stared at the door for a moment, just a moment, before calling out to the man inside.

"Mike, are you okay in there?"

It took Mike a moment to respond to you. "Uh... Yeah. I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine," you replied.

"Well, I am," he replied. He sounded annoyed.

"You don't sound like it," you commented.

"Well, what do you want me to say?"

You paused for a moment, glancing around the room as you thought of a response. You decided to just tell him what was on your mind. "Do you want to leave? We can go."

You heard the bathroom door open, and Mike stepped out from it, standing in front of you, his eyes staring straight at your own. He was soaked despite all the paper towels he must've used to dry himself off. You handed him the small towel you'd been handed, and he took it from you with a small nod. He ran it through his shirt and thighs for a moment before looking at you.

"You sure?" He asked with a pinch of hesitation in his voice. He looked nervous. No, he didn't look nervous. He looked... guilty. His eyes were sad, and he seemed worried about something. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the right words.

You had a feeling what was going on in his mind, so you just took the lead for him. With a smile, you both returned to your seat momentarily to pay the bill and tip the waiter before making your way out to the parking lot. You climbed into the car, and Mike started the engine. He still had a very noticeable frown on his face as he turned to you.

"It looks like it's going to be a great night," he sighed, letting out a heavy sigh. His eyes shifted upwards to the clouds, and you noticed the very visible storm that was brewing in them. "Sorry. I guess I just... It didn't go the way I thought it would."

"It's still early," you replied, placing your hand over his. He looked back at you with wide eyes, clearly not expecting you to be as calm as you were. You smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently. "And I have the perfect idea of what we could do."

He raised a brow at you, his eyes suddenly looking curious. The frown was gone now and replaced with a small, barely visible smile. You had to resist the urge to hug him right then and there.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"You'll find out when we get there," you whispered and smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Just listen to my directions. I'll be your personal navigator."

Your navigator skills were definitely off the charts that night, and even you were surprised you didn't get lost. You made some accidental wrong turns and had to double back once or twice, but other than that, you were able to get you and Mike to your destination just fine. The night sky was still covered with clouds, and there was a very faint sound of thunder in the distance, but you figured you had at least a good hour or so.

The view, though. You couldn't have picked a better spot to have. There was a tree right next to a small, grassy hill that you sat at, the only place where Mike and you could be comfortable while you stared up at the sky. You had Mike's emergency blanket, and he had his hoodie (that might have smelt like utter hell, but he refused to wear anything else after the incident earlier that night), and the stars. It was like the clouds had separated just to show you the beauty of the night sky, and the two of you were lucky enough to witness it. The sun was long gone, and the moon was peeking out from behind the clouds, its bright glow casting a shimmering reflection onto the grass below. It was a moment that you'd never forget.

"How's the date going so far now?" You asked Mike with a smile as you sat next to him. "Think this is an improvement?"

Mike shrugged. "Maybe I should stop planning the dates, and let you plan them from now on."

You smiled at him. "I like it when you plan the dates, Mike."

He frowned for a moment, but the look on his face suggested otherwise. "Really? Because there had been not one good one in the past... I dunno, two years? Even when we were still trying to work out the friendship to the relationship thing."

You shrugged, moving closer to him. "What can I say? I like the surprises, and you never were that spontaneous on your own."

"Is that what you like about me?" He asked. "My non-spontaneity?"

You glanced up at him, smiling as you took in his features again. You loved looking at him. He was handsome. And you loved the look in his eyes. They were filled with adoration, and they were looking straight into yours. He leaned down a bit and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"You have other qualities, too," you replied. “Good ones.”

"Like what?" He asked, his lips ghosting over your skin as he spoke.

"You make a great cup of coffee," you began, letting out a small giggle as he continued to kiss your forehead, moving slowly down towards your jaw. "And you're good at taking care of Abby. You can be funny if you try hard enough, and you're really cute when you smile."

Mike moved down towards your ear, gently nibbling on the lobe. His breath fanned over your skin, and you couldn't help but lean into him just a little. His hand slipped under your chin and gently pulled your head up, forcing your lips to meet with his in a soft kiss.

The first kiss was always special, in Mike's opinion. You were always so soft, so gentle, but also so firm, so loving. It was one of his favorite feelings, and he was so lucky to have you in his life, he couldn't believe it.

When you pulled away from the kiss, you didn't move too far away from him, resting your head against his shoulder instead. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh of contentment, and he leaned his head against yours, his hand resting gently on your knee as you both gazed at the moonlit sky.

"Mikey?" You asked after a moment, your voice soft and gentle as you spoke. You felt his head move in response, and you felt him take in a deep breath.

"Yeah?" He asked.

You looked up at him, smiling as you did. "I think this is our best one yet."

He didn't say anything for a moment. He stared down at you with his usual blank expression, but after a few seconds, the corners of his lips quirked up, and he was finally able to break out into a smile, one that was so much brighter than the one that he had earlier.

He kissed you again, and you couldn't help but melt into the kiss. Your hands went to his shoulders, and his hands wrapped themselves around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You never wanted to leave his side.

You loss track of time from there. You both were lost in the moment, in the stars, in the blanket, in each other, and before either of you knew it, you felt the slight raindrops pelt against your skin, and the wind was growing stronger. Your hair whipped in front of your face, and smacked Mike in the cheek, but he didn't seem to care much, too caught up in kissing you.

You eventually pulled away, looking at the man in front of you. "We should... we should get going. You brought the umbrella, right?”

“Yeah, it’s right here," Mike nodded, grabbing it from the other end of the blanket and placing it above the two of you as the raindrops grew heavier. The thunder was louder now, but you and Mike were far too engrossed with each other to really notice it.

At least, not until tragedy struck when he went to pull up the blanket. One big strum of thunder and a burst of wind from above caused Mike to lose his grip on the umbrella, which went flying through the air and out of his grasp. You both watched it as it soared in the air, almost like you were in a daze, and then you realized the horrible thing that had happened.

The umbrella was gone. You and Mike were in the rain, and there was nothing around you to provide you any sort of protection from the downpour. The blanket was soaked within seconds, as were the two of you.

Well, technically, Mike already was.

Mike's smile had disappeared from his face when the umbrella had flown away, and now his frown had returned, only this time, it was quite humorous. He was absolutely dumbstruck, and he was just staring at the umbrella as it flew away into the night. You tried to hold back your laughter, but it was difficult, especially with the look on Mike's face.

“Great. Just great," he grumbled, grabbing your arm while making his way back towards the car. "That's just the icing on the cake."

“It’s like we’re in a rom-com," you commented as you followed him, laughing even more. "You're the oblivious man, I'm the funny girl who helps you figure out your feelings. It’s the climax of the movie, we're both drenched, and then we kiss in the rain,"

Mike glared at you, but the look was not genuine. You could tell, and it only made you laugh even more. "Yeah, yeah, let's just get to the car."

The two of you ran towards the car, and Mike jumped inside the driver's seat. You quickly got into the passenger's side before the door shut closed, and you let out a sigh of relief. You took a moment to catch your breath, and then you turned to Mike, a smile playing on your lips.

“Just so you know, those are my favorite type of rom-coms.”

Mike rolled his eyes. "And just so you know, I hate rom-coms."

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, letting out a soft giggle. "Better buckle up then, Romeo. After we find a towel and get home, we're watching the best rom-com of all time."

He rolled his eyes again, but you could tell that the small smile on his lips was genuine this time. "Let's just go before the car floods,"

You smiled, leaning back in your seat. "Sounds good, honey.”

576 notes · View notes

strawberryya · 8 months

Text

notice me!

pairing: jihoon x reader

synopsis: Your boyfriend has a hectic life, but he usually has at least a little time to spare for his girlfriend. Now it has been two months since he last spent some alone time with you and you're losing your mind just a little over it... luckily, angry make-up sex can solve any problem!

word count: 2.1k

genre/cw: smut, angry sex, also make-up sex, established relationship, feeling neglected in relationship and bad ways of handling said feeling, unprotected sex, manhandling, light choking, fem reader, musician/producer! woozi.

rating: 18+

a/n: I had a moment a couple weeks ago where I wrote this whole thing in one hour in the middle of the night, and then I forgot about it and now I'm in shock just a little bit... anyhow, yay angry sex with wooziiii

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

[navigation post!]

You watched your boyfriend of two years looking at his phone, scrolling mindlessly across whatever app he found more interesting than his girlfriend sitting on the other end of the couch. You were barely wearing anything, a large t-shirt barely covering the sexy lingerie you had put on for tonight.

“Jihoon, it’s been two months.”

You wanted him to notice you. He had barely been home at your shared apartment for weeks. You knew his work was demanding, and that he gave it his all no matter what. But you have been feeling neglected lately. He had been coming home late, crashing on the couch instead of sleeping in your bed. Only giving you a chaste kiss before running off to work the next morning with a groggy “Sorry I missed dinner last night,” as a greeting.

He hadn’t touched you in two months. You had counted the days, and after three weeks you were wondering if he wasn’t stressing too much about the latest album. After six weeks you had been feeling too horny for your own good, and your toys weren’t fulfilling your needs anymore. You wanted to feel him again. It didn’t matter how many times you came. It didn’t hit the spot. After two entire months of him being abstinent, you had begun getting snarky at the smallest things he did wrong.

Jihoon looked up from his phone at your statement. He carelessly scratched his chin, making your pussy clench at the memory of those perfect hands being all over your body once upon a time. “Two months? Of what?”

“Of you acting like a damn nun,” you said, dead serious.

“A nun?!” He gasped out.

“Yes! A nun!” You shouted back at him.

He looked you over, sitting at the other end of the couch, dolled up more than usual and staring at him as if he had offended yuo great grandmother by existing. Then it seemed to click in his mind. “Oh,” was all he said.

Two months? Had it been that long? He knew very well that he had been resisting his urges, but he had managed for two entire months? He had been so busy with the new album, he had been staying late at the studio every day and waking up rushing back to the studio to put the new ideas he got during the night into reality. Two months without sex, and a pissed off girlfriend because of it.

“I’m sorry?”

You looked at him like he was an equation, mouth open just a bit as you stared at him in shock. “You’re sorry? What the fuck does that mean?” He was so clueless, you thought as you watched the dumb face he was making. (You still wanted that stupid handsome face of his to eat you out until you cried, but that was besides the point.)

Jihoon knew he had fucked up, you were pissed off and picking a fight, and he hadn’t made it better by not even knowing that he hadn’t slept with you in two whole months.

“Do you even care? Because you don’t seem to care one bit about it since you didn’t even know! Do you not like me anymore? Are you not attracted to me anymore? Are you in love with someone else? Why the fuck would you go and cheat on me?!”

He stared at you in complete surprise. Cheating? “Hold up- hold up! What are you talking about?!” He said, flabbergasted at the way you seemed to have drawn the most far-fetched conclusions to this problem you could’ve possibly thought of. “I’ve been busy with the comeback! Please, baby, why are you acting crazy?”

He shouldn’t have said that, he knew it the second the word left his perfectly plump lips.

“Crazy? Did you just call me crazy? You haven’t seen crazy, you fucking asshole!” You shouted as you stormed out of the room. You were packing your bags, if he didn’t want to be with you anymore you wouldn’t be the one to stop him from moving on and sleeping with whoever else he wanted. Because it sure as hell wouldn’t be you after he had just called you crazy for noticing that he wasn’t interested in you anymore.

“What are you doing?? Why are you messing up the apartment? Are you leaving?” he shouted, seemingly surprised that you didn’t feel like staying in an apartment that he was hellbent on making a girlfriend-free zone.

“Yeah, I’m fucking leaving,” you grunt, shoving some shirts into your bag. You wouldn’t be able to grab it all but at least you could make it with the stuff you were throwing into it for a while. Y9ou could always borrow your friends’ stuff until you could get back all your clothes. “You’re pissing me off and I don’t wanna hate you.”

Jihoon was by the bedroom door now, hands pushing his hair out of his face as he watched you angrily packing your bags. How had he fucked up so badly that his girlfriend wanted to leave him like this?

“Hate me? Baby, I really don’t know what I did to mess up this bad…”

Of course, he didn’t understand, because apparently, your boyfriend was a freaking master at staying “pure”. He hadn’t even spent a single thought on you and what he could do with you. He only cared about his music. And you wouldn’t be the one to stand in his way if thats how he truly felt.

“You don’t know?! Look at me Jihoon!” You threw the t-shirt off your body in an angry fit, making your boyfriend’s eyes widen. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me, to care even a bit about me- about us- for months!! And tonight, I just can’t do this anymore. I’m losing my mind because you won’t fuck me, how stupid is that?” You nearly sobbed as you made it clear that you were frustrated in more than one way. You were so mad at him, and still, you couldn’t help but admire the way he looked so hot even now, his long black hair falling in pretty curls around his face and his lips shiny and pink. He looked so kissable it was like he was teasing you just by existing.

“You got me all addicted to your cock and then you fucking left me to go through some kind of twisted withdrawal.”

He gulped, his adam's apple moving in his throat, you didn’t even care to look at him anymore, you were angrily throwing your shit into the bag on the bed yet again, bent over and flaunting the tiny piece of fabric that tried it’s best to cover your ass. “You don’t even care,” you rumbled as you stuffed more things into the bag. He took in the way the lace set hugged your curves deliciously, he had been so busy with everything he hadn’t even noticed his own cravings. He had ignored it all for so long.

“Shut up.”

His voice was deep, and commanding. Your breath caught in your throat, surprise and need mixing in an arousing blend that went straight to your head. “Excuse me?” Your movements paused completely. When you heard his footsteps approaching you hastily you looked at him, his gaze was darkened, and your core clenched around nothing as he pulled the bag from your grasp. Throwing it on the ground before he pushed your barely clothed body into the bed.

“You think I don’t fucking care anymore just because you haven’t gotten dick in a couple weeks? Are you that desperate to be stretched like a little whore?” He growled in your ear, his bulge evident in the way he pressed against your ass. “I care, and I see you. So shut up.”

You gasped at his harsh movements, neediness soaking your panties in record time. God, you were pathetic.

“I haven’t eaten, I haven’t slept, and I sure as hell haven’t let myself even think about this sweet pussy of yours. I’ve been denying myself it all. But you’re right…” his hand pressed against your throat where you laid face down on the bed, “I’ve been neglecting you. You wanna know why? It’s because I knew that if I so much as looked at you, or held you in my arms while you slept so innocently, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything but fuck your tight little pussy all day and night.” His growling voice set off all kinds of sparks in your core. You needed him, now.

You pushed your ass up against him, eating a groan from your boyfriend. “Such a little slut,” he mumbled, letting go of your throat and pulling himself back from you completely. You were dizzy from the hold around your throat, his perfect hands remembering just the way you liked to feel them around you. You were about to whine when his touch left your body when you heard the familiar shuffling of his clothes falling off his body. You wanted to see it, take his form in properly after all these weeks. But he was faster, pushing you back down against the bed before you got up.

His erection pressed against your heat, making you moan as he prodded against the soaked fabric covering your entrance.

“Jihoon, please,” you mewled, wiggling underneath his firm body.

“Wanna shut up and let me fuck you then since you’re so fucking needy?”

“Please, yes! Anything! Please fuck me!” You almost cried as you pleaded with him.

“Sobbing over cock, you really are such a dirty girl for me.” He groaned as he let his pretty hands smooth over one of your asscheeks, smacking down hard and leaving a burning sting after him. Even that felt good. You needed him more than you had ever needed anything in your life.

You felt him pull the sticky fabric from your core, pushing it aside in favor of pushing the head of his hard cock against your messy pussy. “I’m about to drown in you later tonight, just you wait.” He whispered before pushing past your entrance, slipping inside, your walls lubing his cock up as he entered. He ignored the way you were so tight it almost hurt to push all the way inside, your moaned pleas for him to go deeper, and the way you were gripping the sheets while he pushed all of himself inside of your dripping heat enough of a reason to push through. It had been so long since he had felt your walls gripping around him that he could’ve spilled his seed into you right then and there.

He pulled himself together soon enough, thrusting into you at a brutal pace. Your ass which you had pushed up to meet his hips at first had been completely overpowered by the sheer force he was fucking you into the mattress with. You were coming for the first time within minutes. Screaming and sobbing as you finally came around him. He continued, repeating to you what a good toy you were, and how good of a girl you had been for holding out for him this long.

When you were moaning again, closing in on a second orgasm he told you to come again. Lifting your ass up to balance you on your knees and chest, one of his arms wrapping around your hip to reach your clit, pressing down on it while he let his cock slip in and out effortlessly. Your arousal dripped down your thighs. You came undone and sobbed as he continued to overstimulate your abused cunt.

He continued fucking you until he couldn’t take it anymore, his own orgasm crashing into him with such force it knocked the breath from his lungs.

“That was one hell of an apology,” you said, breathless and still leaking cum, exhausted after having all your pent-up frustrations released all at once like this.

Jihoon chuckled, a sound you had missed these past weeks as well. He really had been unusually absent in your life. It wasn’t just about the sex, you had missed him a lot. “I’m sorry for not being around as much,” he said, dragging a gentle hand over your back. You hadn’t had the energy to move a once from the position he had dropped your hips from once he had pulled out.

“I just missed you, I’m sorry for lashing out.”

“Don’t worry about it, just… next time you should just ask me to fuck you instead of threatening to leave me.”

You were embarrassed now, you had acted like a complete maniac, but my god - if that’s how he fucked a maniac, you wanted to stay crazy for the rest of eternity.

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

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#woozi smut #seventeen smut #kwritersworldnet #jihoon smut #woozi svt smut #seventeen #svt smut #svt #woozi #jihoon x reader #x reader #fem reader #x reader smut

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soulaires · 8 months

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Love Dilemma.

pairings: Aaron Warner x f!reader

summary: in which your daughter thinks your name is ‘love’ because apparently your husband has been calling you that.

warnings: fluff, crack, dad!aaron warner, use of y/n, ooc(?) warner, soft aaron warner.

« words: 1,304 ┇ao3┇reblogs are appreciated! »

🪩:: voicemail; read my other aaron warner fics here.

authors note: it’s here!! This is not proofread and English is not my first language so excuse it!! Also I think baby Dior would call her daddy “Aaron” sometimes 🥹

You have a problem.

And this time, it’s not about kenji but it’s about your daughter, dior.

dior, your five-year-old bundle of joy, had somehow gotten it into her head that her mother's name was 'Love.' It was all Aaron's fault, really. He had a habit of calling you 'Love' ever since, and somehow, your daughter had decided to take it quite literally.

One sunny morning, You and Aaron were in the kitchen, cooking pancakes, while your husband is hugging you from behind, face buried into your neck. dior bounded in, her bright eyes sparkling with excitement. "Love, can we have pancakes today?"

Y/N nearly dropped the pancake batter. She turned to her daughter, trying to suppress a giggle. "Of course, sweetheart. Pancakes it is."

dior clapped her hands in delight. "Yay! Love makes the best pancakes!"

Meanwhile, Aaron who heard the conversation couldn't help but laugh. "You're right, princess. Love does make the best pancakes."

And so, the nickname 'Love' continued to stick. dior began using it with alarming regularity. She'd call out "Love, I'm hungry!" when she wanted a snack, or "Love, can you help me tie my shoelaces?" when she needed assistance.

You and Aaron had a good laugh about it, and they couldn't bring themselves to correct her. It was just too adorable. You guys always reasoned that she'd grow out of it soon enough.

But dior's idea of her mother's name wasn't limited to just your home.

dior's school project on family portraits was approaching, and she was brimming with excitement. She couldn't wait to draw her family and proudly display it in her classroom. A

Your husband had helped her gather all the art supplies she needed, from colored pencils to a large sheet of drawing paper.

As your daughter sat at the kitchen table with her art supplies scattered around her, Aaron watched his daughter with a warm smile. "Princess, are you ready to start your family portrait?"

dior nodded enthusiastically, her eyes shining with determination. "Yes, daddy!"

You leaned over to kiss dior's forehead. "Remember to write 'Mommy' for me."

dior frowned, her brows furrowed in concentration. "But Mommy, Daddy calls you 'Love.' Shouldn't I put that?”

You chuckled softly, touched by her daughter's innocence. "Well, it's true that Daddy calls me 'Love,' but for your school project, you should use 'Mommy,' okay?"

dior hesitated for a moment, torn between her father's endearing nickname and her mother's request. Finally, she nodded with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Okay, Mommy!"

With that, she set to work on her family portrait. As her colorful imagination flowed onto the paper, she meticulously drew each family member. Aaron's beaming smile, dior's pigtails, and their pet dog curled up in a cozy corner. But when she came to draw Y/N, she paused, her pencil hovering over the paper.

After a moment of contemplation, she couldn't resist her inner mischievous streak. She wrote 'Love' beneath the drawing of her mother instead of 'Mommy.'

dior stepped back to admire her masterpiece, her face glowing with pride. "There, it's done, daddy!"

You peered over your husband's shoulder at the drawing, your eyes widening in surprise. Instead of 'Mommy,' you saw the word 'Love' elegantly written beneath the figure that was unmistakably her. You and Aaron couldn't help but burst into laughter, both surprised and amused by your daughter's antics.

"dior, you little rascal," you chuckled, giving your daughter a playful nudge. "You just couldn't resist, could you?"

dior giggled mischievously, her eyes twinkling with delight. "I thought it was the perfect name for you, Mommy."

Aaron hugged his daughter tightly, unable to contain his laughter. "You know what, sweetheart? I think it's perfect, too."

And so, dior's family portrait proudly displayed the name 'Love' beneath her mother's figure when it was showcased at school. When her classmates asked about it, she simply explained, "That's my mommy, but we like to call her 'Love' sometimes."

And that leads her teacher to call you.

You guys received a call from her preschool teacher. "Mrs. Warner," she began, "dior has been insisting that your name is 'Love' in class. Is there something we should know?"

feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement, can’t form some words to say so you let your husband explain the situation to the teacher.

"It's just a little mix-up. She thinks my wife’s name is 'Love' because her daddy calls her mommy that."

The teacher chuckled. "Well, it's quite sweet, but you guys should try to correct her. We wouldn't want her to get confused."

"Of course," You finally spoke up, agreeing, though you knew it wouldn't be easy.

That evening, Aaron tried to gently correct dior. "Baby, you know Mommy's real name is not 'Love,' right?”

dior looked up with her big, innocent eyes, puzzled. "But Daddy, you call you mommy 'Love,' Why can't I?"

You heard your husband sighed, realizing it was a battle he couldn't win especially with her using her cute puppy dog eyes. Aaron looked at you for help, and you chuckled softly.

"Okay, you can call me 'Love' if you want, but just remember, my real name is 'Y/N.' Or you can call me ‘mommy’"

Your daughter nodded, seeming satisfied with the compromise. "Okay, Love."

You and Aaron couldn't help but smile at your daughter's stubbornness. You guys decided to let it go for now and see how long this phase would last.

As weeks turned into months, dior's nickname for her mother only grew more endearing. She would say things like, "Love, can you read me a bedtime story?" or "Love, can we go to the park today?" It had become a running joke in your household, and even your friends found it amusing.

One evening, you invited your friends, kenji and Juliette, over for dinner. Kenji, being kenji, couldn't resist teasing you about his newfound moniker. "So, Love, what's on the menu tonight?"

You chuckled, setting the salad on the table. "Well, Love has prepared a special meal for you all."

Juliette joined in, a mischievous grin on her face. "Love, you've really outdone yourself with this dinner."

You and Aaron exchanged amused glances, and you all shared a hearty laugh.

As You and Aaron settled into your cozy shared bedroom one evening, ready to end the day and drift off to sleep, the atmosphere was filled with a sense of contentment. You guys had just finished reading a bedtime story to dior and tucked her in, and now it was time for some much-needed rest.

As You pulled the covers over yourself and snuggled into your side of the bed, Aaron couldn't resist a mischievous grin. "Well, Love, are you ready for a good night's sleep?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Aaron, you just can't resist, can you?"

He chuckled, his eyes filled with playful mischief. "Well, you know, now that everyone calls you 'Love,' I have to make sure you remember who you belong to. You're my love."

You playfully swatted his arm, heart warming at his affectionate teasing. "Oh, really? I thought I belonged to baby dior now."

Aaron, feeling playfully betrayed, put on an exaggerated pout.

"What? My own daughter's stealing my 'Love'? That's it, I'm going to sell her toys."

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics. You leaned over to give him a gentle kiss. "Oh my god, don’t. She will cry and gonna start calling you ‘Aaron’ now"

His pout dissolved into a grin as he wrapped his arms around you. "Just like her mother, calling me Aaron when mad." He teased, Kissing your forehead he can’t help but smile widely.

He loves you so much.

He loves you and his princess.

His two best girls.

No one’s gonna take this away from him.

Or else everything’s gonna be burned down.

(Aaron Warner) tag list 🏷 : @ravisinghs-wife @aishaleblanc

#aaron warner #reader insert #aaron warner x reader #shatter me #shatter me series #aaron warner x you #aaron warner anderson #aaron warner x y/n #riewrites 🫀#dad!aaron warner #shatter me x reader #The Warner Family 🪐

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dystopicjumpsuit · 2 months

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The Plant Prowler of Pabu

A/N: I’m scared that Pabu is going to be toast after this week, so I wrote a little fluff to make myself feel better. Also, this is the first time I’ve been able to finish a fic in six weeks, so… yay me!

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader (GN)

Rating: T (but MDNI as always)

Wordcount: 2.1K

Warnings and tags: mild language; fluff; a kiss; spoilers for The Bad Batch season 3

Summary: Exploring the island during his first morning on Pabu, Crosshair encounters a mastermind of botanical crime: you.

Suggested Listening:

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Whoever said, “It’s darkest just before dawn” had clearly never woken up to go for a walk before sunrise. Even if Crosshair hadn’t had enhanced vision, it would have been easy for him to navigate his way down to the beach of Pabu in the dim half-light. Hunter had wordlessly watched him exit the Marauder, pretending to still be asleep, but Crosshair knew that his brother would have drawn his vibroblade in a flash if he’d even glanced sideways at Omega.

Crosshair didn’t exactly blame Hunter for his caution, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. The squad had arrived on the idyllic island the previous day, and Crosshair was immediately swarmed by a horde of curious locals. With Hunter determined to keep Crosshair in sight at all times, there had been no escape from their onslaught of hospitality, and by the time the celebrations had died down, Crosshair had been clinging to the tattered threads of his patience and sanity.

It was a hell of a thing to go from barely speaking to anyone for months on end to suddenly being plunged into the midst of a vibrant and chaotic crowd of nosy spectators. He’d escaped to the Marauder at last and pretended to sleep, keenly aware of Hunter’s eyes on him. He’d spent enough time under the microscope in the past several months, though, and he was ready for some privacy.

And so it was that he found himself wandering down the empty terraced walkways of Pabu, making his way to the shoreline in the pale gloaming. He didn’t encounter a single soul as he walked—barring the ubiquitous moonyos that seemed to frolic across the island at all hours. Pabu was the sort of place that seemed too flawless to be real. Too flawless to last.

Not quite as flawless as it seems on the surface, he acknowledged as he turned down a path that snaked through one of the sections of the island that had yet to be rebuilt after the catastrophic sea surge he’d heard about countless times at the welcoming party the previous night. The buildings had been reduced to rubble, and judging by the weeds sprouting in the cracks of the walkway, the locals tended to avoid this particular part of the island.

Perfect.

The gentle breeze off the ocean was chilly, and he told himself it was the reason his hand trembled more than usual that morning. He shoved both hands deep into his pockets as he navigated the last few levels before he reached the beach. As he stepped onto the sand, a gust of wind buffeted against him. It was bracingly cold, and it smelled like salt and aquatic vegetation and wet earth, and he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply and focusing on the sensation.

When he opened his eyes, a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision had him snapping his head to the side. He froze. A figure meandered slowly down the beach, sticking close to the bottom of the hill where the lush foliage grew thickly right up to the edge of the sand. He was certain you had spotted him, but you didn’t immediately acknowledge his presence.

He watched for a moment as you paused and stooped down to examine one of the plants, then carefully plucked a few bunches and laid them in the basket you carried. Bizarre. What the kriff was this person doing out here so early? Nothing innocent, that was for damned sure. Why would anyone sneak down to such an isolated stretch of the beach at this obscene hour if they didn’t have nefarious intent?

Aside from me, obviously.

He squinted slightly. Even with his enhanced eyesight, it was dark enough, and you were far enough away, that it was difficult to make out your features, but he was reasonably sure you hadn’t been at the party the night before.

Hmph.

He turned and walked the opposite direction, away from the person who’d had the audacity to interrupt his solitude by getting to the beach first. Better not to get involved.

Crosshair took a different route the next morning, arriving at the beach just as the sun rose. As bad kriffing luck would have it, you were exiting the beach just as he arrived, and your paths inevitably intersected. He braced himself for a conversation, but you simply met his eyes and nodded quietly as you passed him.

He suppressed a sigh of relief. Stepping aside to make room for you to pass on the narrow trail, he couldn’t help noticing that your basket was filled with a variety of neat bundles of leaves and twigs. Odd, but your hobbies were none of his concern. Even if they did involve herb rustling and grand theft shrubbery.

He continued his path down to the shoreline and wandered along the water’s edge, staring out at the horizon. Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see your solitary figure making its way up the steep slope and into Lower Pabu. He was now completely sure that you’d not been at the welcoming party, nor had he encountered you in the village. It wasn’t that surprising; after all, hundreds of people lived on the island, and he wasn’t in any particular hurry to meet them all—or any of them, if he were honest.

Of course, he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Wrecker had flatly refused to allow Crosshair to isolate himself, while the gregarious mayor Shep Hazard seemed equally dedicated to the twin causes of thrusting Crosshair into the community and plying him with as much fruit as he could eat in a lifetime. He was starting to feel a tiny surge of violence every time he saw a jogan fruit.

On the third day, Batcher woke up with Crosshair and scrambled out of the Marauder, bounding ahead of him down the ramp and then turning to wiggle her entire body in anticipation as he followed. He let the lurca hound pick the path that morning, not bothering to hide his thin smile at Batcher’s endless curiosity and enthusiasm. She crisscrossed the walkways incessantly, sniffing and exploring, chasing the moonyos playfully down the hill, investigating every nook and cranny of the village, and easily running five times the distance that Crosshair traveled on their way down to the water.

The beach was empty this morning, to Crosshair’s relief. At last, some peace and quiet. Or at least as quiet and peaceful as it could be with Batcher rocketing back and forth across the wet sand, grunting and huffing as she charged into the surf and back up to Crosshair, crouching into a bow as she tried to entice him to play with her. When he didn’t immediately comply, she took off chasing a flock of seabirds, scattering them into the air in a cacophony of indignant squawking.

She chased the birds down the beach, barking joyously as she splashed through the surf. When the hound disappeared around a bend in the shoreline, Crosshair sped up slightly, not wanting to risk Omega’s wrath if anything happened to her pet on his watch. As he rounded the bend, he was greeted with a most unexpected sight: Batcher was lying on her back on the sand, writhing with delight as you rubbed her belly.

Your basket was overturned, and all the neat little bundles of herbs were strewn across the sand. It wasn’t hard to deduce the instigator of such carnage. Batcher spotted Crosshair and immediately jumped up and shook the sand off herself before rushing to greet him.

“Down,” he said sternly as she jumped up and swiped at him with her massive paws.

She dropped obediently, and trotted along next to him as he approached you. You’d already begun picking up your fallen bundles of leaves, and he quickly bent to assist you.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled.

“No harm done,” you replied, shaking a bit of loose sand out of the bundles before you dropped them into your basket. “They all get washed before I hang them up to dry anyway.”

“So you’re not just engaging in botanical heists for the adrenaline rush?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah, it really gets the blood pumping,” you replied, deadpan. “My day just doesn’t feel complete without a little horticultural larceny.”

“I can see you like to live on the edge,” he said with a tiny smile. “The Plant Prowler of Pabu.”

“And I would have gotten away with it, if it weren’t for a mysterious stranger and his meddling dog.”

He liked you. Damn it.

Crosshair didn’t see you for the next several days. He assumed you’d moved your criminal enterprise elsewhere on the island, and after the team returned from Barton IV, he didn’t feel the same need to escape the Marauder as he had previously. Still, he wasn’t sleeping particularly well, and after an excruciatingly restless night, he slipped out of the ship not long before dawn and wandered aimlessly down the streets of Pabu until he found himself in the unstable section he’d discovered on the first day.

As he picked his way through the ruins, he spotted movement two terraces below, and he grinned. Forcing himself to walk casually so you didn’t suspect how pleased he was to see you, he sauntered down to your level, only to find you ripping weeds up from between the fragments of pavement with uncharacteristic abandon.

“What did those plants ever do to you?” he asked.

You must have spotted him before he arrived, because you didn’t even flinch at the sound of his voice.

“Invasive species,” you replied. “I try not to over-forage, but in this case, I’ll make an exception.”

“And I thought your crimes only extended to vegetational theft,” he drawled. “I had no idea you’d escalated to floral murder and agricultural vigilantism.”

“The hero Pabu needs,” you said with a smile that had no business being as charming as it was, considering you were currently covered in a fine layer of dirt and assorted bits of leaves and twigs. “If this plant gets established on the island, we might never be able to eradicate it. It will outcompete the native plants and could cause significant disruptions to the ecosystem.”

“How altruistic of you,” he remarked drily.

“Not at all,” you laughed. “It also happens to be delicious.”

Crosshair stooped down and pulled one of the plants up by the roots, examining it closely. “It’s on sight, then.”

“Exactly. No mercy.”

As the first rays of the sun appeared on the distant horizon, you packed the large bundles of weeds into your basket, then stood and dusted your hands off on your trousers. You stretched a bit, clearly a little stiff from your labor. Impulsively, Crosshair spoke.

“Want to watch the sunrise with me?” You looked surprised at his offer, and he cleared his throat, looking awkwardly away. “Or do you turn into a meiloorun if you stay out past dawn?”

“Yes,” you said. “I mean, no. I mean, yes, I’d like to stay. No, I don’t turn into a meiloorun.”

You bit your lip and stared down at the bundle of weeds in your basket, poking at it ineffectually as you muttered something unintelligible under your breath. Stifling a laugh, Crosshair climbed up onto the crumbling half-wall of a destroyed structure and extended his hand to help you up after him. You scrambled up and sat down next to him, gazing out at the tranquil ocean as the sun began to paint the high clouds in brilliant shades of gold and pastel.

“Not a bad view, is it?” you asked quietly.

“Definitely worth waking up early,” he replied, watching your face as the light caught on your cheekbones and reflected in your eyes.

Without making a conscious decision, he lifted his hand and brushed a little loose dirt off your cheek. His damned hand trembled, and he mentally cursed. You didn’t seem to notice the slight tremor, though—or if you did, you didn’t say anything about it. Instead, you turned your head slowly, grazing your lips across his fingertips as you met his eyes. It seemed the most natural thing in the galaxy to continue to trace the line of your jaw until his hand curled around the back of your head.

Your lips were soft and warm in the cool breeze, and you tasted like sea salt and dew and something he didn’t quite recognize. Something new. He liked it. You leaned into his kiss, and when at last it came to its natural conclusion, he drew in a shaky breath.

“Hi,” he whispered. “I’m Crosshair.”

---

Want more Crosshair? I have another Crosshair x Reader ficlet here!

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino spicy-clones @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella @cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream @littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep @moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine @multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam @banksys-rat @skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist @cw80831 @kimiheartblade @meredithroseg @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal @reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose @totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell

#crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #crosshair fluff #crosshair bad batch #gn reader #bad batch fic #tbb season 3 spoilers #tbb spoilers #dystopicjumpsuit writes #Spotify

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wen-kexing-apologist · 5 months

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Fantasy v. Reality: The Sign, Episode 7

Phaya.

Tharn.

Anyway, I wrote this post a couple days before Episode 7 aired talking about how Phaya romantic feelings are portrayed with bokeh effect and Tharn’s romantic feelings are portrayed with colored lighting, and how we’ve only gotten one or the other effect up until this point. In that post I posited that once they fucked for real, Phaya and Tharn would have both their effects in play at the same time and well…

So yay, I was right or whatever.

Before the action really even begins, I noticed a really interesting design choice. In my previous post I mentioned that they’ve been using string lights a lot in a way that to me appears like an attempt at some real-life version of a bokeh effect when the light reflections get large and translucent. And they utilize that effect very heavily during the conversation Phaya and Tharn have out by the pool. Also in my previous post, I noted that outside of Tharn’s fantasies when there are romantic feelings, we get some type of more realistic unnatural lighting: in the bar bathroom, at the hot pot place, etc. and that trend continues here.

If you look at the lights behind Tharn and compare them to the lights behind Phaya, you will notice the top half of the lights behind Tharn have a light green color to them, and the bottom half of the lights behind Tharn has a pink tint to them. So that’s cool! Their effects are starting to come together before they kiss, and then we transition in to the sex scene and we are absolutely rich in color and bokeh effect the whole way through.

But! While watching the scene I noticed something else, which I know others have as well (hey @chicademartinica) but I’ll talk about it anyway, and that’s how similar to reality Phaya and Tharn’s fantasies are. So, I guess it’s time for a scene breakdown (of sorts!)

Tharn’s Fantasy v. Tharn’s Reality

In Tharn’s dream, Phaya enters the bathroom and puts a hand around Tharn’s neck. In reality, they initiate at the pool and then bring it in to the bathroom, but worry not! Tharn still gets a hand at or near his throat multiple times in their first round.

In Tharn’s dream he and Phaya have their first sexual encounter in Tharn’s shower. Same thing happens in reality.

In Tharn’s dream, Phaya pins Tharn’s arm (and Tharn himself) against the glass, kissing his neck and shoulder. In reality, Phaya is facing a different direction but their arms are in almost exactly the same position.

And similarly, it may not be up against the glass like he did in his dream but, I’d say his first sexual encounter with Phaya is playing out surprisingly close to what he was hoping for.

Phaya’s Fantasy v. Reality

Where Tharn seeks more aggression, Phaya seeks more tenderness, and we see Phaya get that during his actual sexual encounter with Tharn.

In Phaya’s dream, we see Tharn’s fingers curl slightly (like a claw) and drag down Phaya’s shoulder. In reality, we see Tharn’s fingers curl slightly (like a claw) and drag down Phaya’s back.

In Phaya’s dream, we get him sitting on Tharn’s lap so he is towering over Tharn, and Tharn’s face is closer to his dick. Tharn’s hand trails down Phaya’s side. What do we get in the real sex scene? Something extremely similar, but with Tharn a second away from having Phaya’s dick in his mouth.

In Phaya’s fantasy we get a great close up of Tharn’s hand on Phaya’s shoulder, with his fingers just meeting the edge of Phaya’s wing tattoo while Phaya kisses Tharn’s neck. What do we get in reality? Almost exactly the same action.

And I know we were all taking notes about how often Phaya’s hand went to the back of Tharn’s neck during the fantasy scene, but don’t worry, he does that in his actual sex scene with Tharn as well!

Now I don’t have time to look through all the gifs, or screenshot all the moments, but there is also a lot to be said for the way they kiss each other, the way they hold each other, and the areas of the body that Phaya and Tharn focus on that does seem to translate directly from both of their fantasies and ends up in their actual evening together.

Which I absolutely love because of what it says about Tharn and Phaya’s connection to one another. To be fair, I haven’t paid all that much attention to the similarities and differences in fake out make outs before this show, and that’s probably because there haven’t always been stark/obvious similarities. I would typically assume though that if we saw a fantasy and then a reality that were incredibly balanced, obviously paralleled moments, that some sort of conversation would have to have been had about what people like, what they want, etc. (It isn’t a fantasy, but the FWB Negotiations in Bed Friend, Episode 3 come to mind when I think about Uea verbalizing that he doesn’t want hickies after King sucks on his thigh hard.) So we could sit here and claim that these two were vocal about what they wanted/what felt good in the moments in between cuts, the parts of this encounter that we as an audience aren’t seeing. But, I like my theory better.

My theory, and this is almost certainly an extremely obvious theory and something they aren’t going to explicitly confirm, is that Phaya was able to fulfill Tharn’s fantasy, and Tharn was able to fulfill Phaya’s fantasy when they finally, actually fucked, because they are reincarnated lovers. This cannot possibly be the first time these two souls have um…come together as it were. I don’t remember if I said it in a post or not, but something I absolutely love about the way that Phaya and Tharn interact in their softer moments, is that so much of their physical interactions feel familiar yet unconscious. Tharn is trying not to fall for Phaya, yet his hand will immediately come up to stroke Phaya’s wrist when Phaya touches his cheek because they were lovers in another life. Tharn is trying not to fall for Phaya, yet he fits himself so easily in to Phaya’s arms when he’s asleep and his hand trails towards where it shouldn’t be, because they were lovers in another life. Tharn and Phaya are able to picture exactly what they’d get out of sleeping together and nail (haha) it immediately, because they were lovers in another life, they already knew what their partner wanted.

#the sign #the sign the series #the sign ep 7 #phaya x tharn #tharn x phaya #phayatharn #tharnphaya #billybabe #idol factory #thai bl

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floralcyanidee · 9 months

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ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘs, ᴍʏ ʟɪᴘs, ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘsᴇ - ᴄɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴍᴜʀᴘʜʏ

Young!Cillian Murphy x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)

A night over at your best friend, Cillian's, leads to something more than friendship but something less than romance. Will you ever tell him how you feel, or will you always just be friends with benefits?

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, cock warming, friends with benefits, friends to lovers, dirty talk, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, mentions of choking, love confessions

word count: 4409

author’s note: I'm shadowbanned on my main account everyone please clap (not for nsfw, I was flagged for spam yay) so I'll be posting on this shiny new blog, ao3, and wattpad for the time being. (those are both linked on my masterpost) hopefully I'll be unbanned soon because I've had my main tumblr for a decade and it has 2.5k followers on it and I'll fr cry my eyes out if I can't get unbanned!!! anyway please enjoy this!! I wrote a good chunk of this while at work this week. the horny really unleashes in the second part haha. please leave feedback if you enjoy! <3

PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG. BUT ALSO, DO NOT UNFOLLOW MY MAIN BLOG!

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Cillian’s lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath hitting your face. His eyelashes almost touch your cheeks, and his nose is beside yours, barely brushing against it.

“I want you so bad,” Cillian whispers, his hands finding your hips.

You have been friends since the 90s when Cillian first arrived in Hollywood, stumbling upon you at a local bar where you worked. Ever since, you’ve both been the best of friends. But tonight, that’s being challenged. The lights in Cillian’s place are dimmed, candles are lit, and wine is flowing through the two of you. Having a bit to drink in a comfortable setting isn’t out of the norm, but for some reason, tensions were high tonight. You could almost cut it with a knife. Everything about him is more mesmerizing tonight- his eyes, his freckles, the way he smiles. You needed him, and apparently, he needed you too.

“Then have me,” you mutter against Cillian’s lips.

He chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head slightly, “I don’t want to ruin us.”

“You won’t,” you look down at his lips- they’re so close to yours that you can feel them move whenever he speaks.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” you breathe, grabbing hold of Cillian’s face as he finally puts his mouth on yours.

The kiss immediately becomes hungry, your teeth nearly clashing together as Cillian slips his tongue around yours. He’s gripping your hips fiercely, and his sideburns press pleasantly into your palms as you hold his head steady. Cillian pulls you onto his lap from your sitting position on the couch next to him, seating you firmly on his thighs. Your fingers find his hair, tugging it slightly as a small whimper vibrates in Cillian’s throat. The sound spurs you on, and you take over the kiss, dominating his tongue with yours. You explore his mouth and suck on his tongue harshly, pulling away from the embrace to catch your breath.

“Fuck,” Cillian curses, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re good at this.”

You scoff, putting both your hands on his cheeks as you trace your thumb along his sharp cheekbones, “And to think you would’ve never known.”

“Not necessarily,” Cillian looks you in the eyes, “I would’ve gotten you one way or another.”

“Then why have you waited so long, then? Hmm?” you ask.

“I value our friendship,” Cillian admits.

“I do, too, Cill. But god, if I had known you were so good at kissing, I would’ve done it ages ago,” you smirk, running your finger across his bottom lip.

His eyes follow your movements before they flick up to yours, darkening, “I’m not just good at that.”

His words shoot straight to your lower belly, warmth spreading through you, “Is that right?”

“Mhmm,” Cillian pulls you closer to his chest, your core settling right on his.

“Show me.”

Cillian attacks your lips again, this time biting down on your lower lip and rolling it between his teeth. You watch his face as he does it, his icy eyes becoming a darker shade of blue. His hand moves from your hip to your hair, his fingers sliding through your locks before they tighten, pulling your head backward to expose your neck. Cillian leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck, licking a stripe up the side before he bites at the skin, leaving a small bruise to form below your jaw. You squirm slightly at the feeling of his teeth pressing into your skin, dangerously close to breaking its surface. Cillian then kisses your collarbones, stopping when he reaches the neck of your shirt, well, his shirt. You always took from his wardrobe, whether it was a beanie, t-shirt, or hoodie that he forgot he had. He slides his hand from your hip to underneath the shirt, pressing his palm to your feverish skin and pushing it up slowly until he reaches your breast.

“No bra?” Cillian asks, surprised.

“I never wear a bra when I’m over here,” you admit, “I’m surprised you’ve never noticed.”

“I’m glad I never noticed, or else I’d be underneath your shirt constantly,” Cillian pulls his hand from your hair to move it under the shirt along with the other.

“Doesn’t sound too bad to me,” you giggle, but it’s cut off by a quiet moan when Cillian grasps your breasts.

Cillian brushes his thumbs over your nipples, circling the buds as they harden under his touch. You hum, letting your head fall back at the sensation. Cillian pushes the shirt up and over your chest, and you help him pull it all the way off, tossing it somewhere in the living room. Immediately, Cillian latches onto one of your nipples, toying with the other one with his fingers. Electricity shoots to your still-clothed core, and you know that Cillian can feel you beginning to throb through your thin shorts. His playing with your breasts could get you off alone; his touch is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s sometimes sensual and soft and rough and firm when needed. Cillian grazes his teeth over the sensitive bud, pulling it toward him as you let out a yelp. You involuntarily bare down on his lap and feel him growing harder underneath you. He lands a slap to your breast, and you gasp, hands going to grip his biceps to ground yourself.

“I can feel you getting excited,” Cillian teases, raising his hips a little to let all your weight sit on him momentarily.

“What are you gonna do about it, then?” you stifle a moan at his bulge pressing into your clit harshly.

Cillian pushes you off his lap and onto the couch, where he spreads your legs and yanks your shorts down your thighs, discarding them wherever the shirt also previously went. He pulls your calves onto his shoulders, laying on his chest between your thighs. His breath hits your dampened underwear, sending goosebumps across your skin. You bite your lip as Cillian plays with the edges of your underwear right against where you need him most. He toys with the fabric, letting his fingers barely touch you underneath.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Cillian confesses, his intense eyes flickering up to your face.

You feel your cheeks burn, “Me too.”

Cillian smiles his typical beautiful smile, teeth and all, as he pulls your underwear down your legs painfully slow, “I’ve always imagined how wet you’d get just from me teasing you.”

You bite back a whimper as he removes your underwear from your legs, letting them fall to the floor.

“You’d get soaked from me playing with your pussy, rubbing your clit slowly, and eating you out until you cry,” Cillian lets his filthy words fall from his lips as you shiver from them, wanting to close your legs subconsciously.

But they were perched on Cillian’s shoulders, and he was about to go in for the kill. He kneads your thigh before pushing it to the side, letting it drape off the edge of the couch and opening you up further to him. Cillian’s fingers brush against your hardening clit like it’s the most delicate thing in the world, making you tremble as you grunt from the sensual feeling.

“Please,” you sigh, your hips jerking up when Cillian pulls his hand away.

“Please, what?”

“Touch me, Cill. God, I need you to touch me.”

Cillian strokes your entrance with his index finger, gathering your wetness before dragging it up to your clit. He circles the bundle of nerves slowly, making you whine above him.

“So wet already,” Cillian moans, “You’re so beautiful.”

You throw your head back against the arm of the couch when Cillian finally replaces his finger with the tip of his tongue, going around and around the sensitive bud, never coming directly in contact with it. He changes his mind about that and starts to lap at your clit, flicking his tongue over it as his fingers travel back to your now-dripping entrance. Cillian hums in satisfaction at the feeling of your arousal seeping out of you at his expense. He flattens his tongue and licks a fat stripe up your slit before swirling his tongue around your clit, his tongue still flat and giving your entire bundle of nerves attention. Cillian probes you with a single finger, pushing it in as you moan his name. He pumps it in and out of you, curling it against your g spot with every thrust. He adds a second finger, and the sound of your wetness grows louder, mixing with your breathy moans and Cillian’s pants.

“Say my name again,” Cillian bites his lip, watching as his soaked fingers move in and out of you.

“Cillian,” you whine, moving your hips along with his fingers.

“That’s right, fuck yourself on my fingers, darling,” he says, adding a third finger in you.

To say you‘re a mess is an understatement. You need Cillian inside you, as your walls are clenching around his fingers with desperation. You grab his shirt, “Fuck me, please.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Cillian smirks, lifting his shirt off his lean body before standing up to tug his pants and underwear down and off his legs.

Cillian teases your clit with his leaking head before lining himself up with you. He looks at you with an unsure expression, and you nod in response to the unspoken question. He slowly pushes himself into you, your warmth already fluttering around him. Cillian guides himself all the way to his hilt, letting out a throaty groan when he feels his entire length surrounded by your velvety walls. His hands run up and down your abdomen, stopping when he palms over your breasts. They’re still sensitive from the previous activity and your growing arousal, causing you to wriggle when Cillian’s fingers deftly pinch at both your nipples as he slowly pulls himself almost out of you entirely before slamming back into you. You cry out, your hands flying to where his back meets his shoulders, nails digging softly into his flesh. Cillian moans when you clench harshly around him when he tugs at your nipple particularly hard.

“You like these pretty titties to be played with, huh?” Cillian runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he watches your face twist in pleasure when he pulls at the sensitive skin.

You nod, but he lets go of your breasts, running his hands over your body before his hand snakes between the two of you, rubbing tight circles on your clit. You let out a throaty moan, and Cillian curses under his breath as his hips snap against yours at a steady rhythm.

“Fuuuuck,” you drawl, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your body heaves into the couch from the velocity of Cillian’s perfect cock slamming into you without mercy, “You feel so good inside of me.”

You push Cillian up and off you, shoving him onto the couch behind him. You climb on his lap, throwing your legs over his thighs as you line him back up with your aching cunt. Feeling him stretch you out completely while at a different angle makes you moan uncontrollably as you set a pace, riding Cillian as if your life depended on it. Your ass slaps his hips as he guides them up and down, thrusting into you dead-on. Cillian’s tip hits your cervix flawlessly, and you feel that tightness in your belly.

“Cum inside me, Cillian,” you swivel your hips, “Fill me up and make me yours.”

“Gonna cum around my cock first?” Cillian’s lips are swollen from incessantly biting as he watches you fuck yourself on him.

You decide you’ll milk him for all he’s got and lean down to land a bruising kiss on his lips. Both of you pant into each other’s mouths as you near your peak, reaching underneath you to flick your clit. Cillian grips your ass as you feel yourself unravel, your orgasm ripping through you. Your walls cave in on CIllian’s length, causing him to reach his own orgasm before he’s ready. He squirms underneath you as you continue to bounce on his cock, coaxing every drop of cum out of him.

“Fuck,” Cillian exhales as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair, looking just as fucked out as you.

You lay down on his chest, him still inside you. He doesn’t bother moving either; the feeling of you still cloaked around him made him dizzy. Cillian is still trying to wrap his head around how this is real. He also is trying to figure out where to go from here. He’s terrified of telling you his true feelings for you, fearing you won’t want to be friends anymore. Obviously, tonight the dynamic has changed from just friendship between the two of you.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for that,” you trace shapes into Cillian’s bare chest, peering up at him when he doesn’t answer.

He appears deep in thought.

“Everything okay?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the man underneath you.

Cillian nods, his hand finding your hair before stroking it softly, “Just thinking.”

“About?” you rest your chest on his collarbone.

“How much I’d like to do this again,” Cillian says, and you chuckle.

“That can be arranged,” you leave a kiss on his neck, his eyes meeting yours through his eyelashes.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship, though,” Cillian says worriedly.

“You haven’t ruined anything. And I’ve had just as much to do with this as you,” you say, putting your finger under Cillian’s chin to look at him directly, “You’re still my best friend.”

“And you’re fine with whatever this is?”

“It’s the best of both worlds,” you shrug with a smile.

Cillian moves to sit up against the couch's armrest still sheathed inside you. And as you start yet another make out session and begin to rock your hips with your walls still hugging his cock, you try not to think. The idea that you must hide your feelings for Cillian even more is hard to wrap your mind around.

But little did you know, he was having the same problem. He tries not to think about it as he thrusts into you sloppily, letting you ride him as you please.

—

“Jesus, shit!”

“God, you’re so fucking drenched. All of this for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you whimper, letting out a pornographic moan as one of Cillian’s hands holds your swollen cunt open while the other rubs at it vigorously.

“Just like that-” Cillian moans at the sounds you’re letting out, “Need you to cum on my face, pretty thing.”

You cry out, rocking your hips against Cillian’s merciless hand as it flies across your pussy with no sign of stopping. He pokes out his middle finger to catch your clit with every swipe of his hand. Your orgasm explodes in your stomach, your core gushing cum as Cillian hurries to dip his face down. He latches his mouth onto your cunt, flicking his tongue over your bundle of nerves, causing you to squirt again.

“Fuuuck,” you squeal, your hands gripping Cillian’s hair like a vice.

Cillian can’t get enough. He’s not gonna lie, he thinks he’s absolutely obsessed with making you squirt. He could do it all night and still get off at the sight. Cillian laps at your pussy, spreading his tongue around your folds, stimulating the sensitive area further.

“Cill, I’m gonna cum again,” you warn, but Cillian just keeps his eyes closed as he sneaks two fingers inside you.

His fingertips brush against your g spot and send you over the edge a third time, and Cillian’s nipping at your clit causes you to gush again. You were slightly embarrassed but incredibly turned on by it. And you know Cillian is relishing in it, literally and figuratively. He pulls away from you, a little reluctantly, and wipes his mouth and face with the back of his arm. You grab his face and pull him into you as he collapses on your naked, heaving chest. You stare at Cillian, the light from the side table’s lamp shining into his eyes just right. They’re returning to an arctic blue as his heart rate calms, his pupils going back to normal size. Cillian stares back at you, studying your features just as you are his. Freckles sprinkle Cillian’s cheeks and nose, dotting along his forehead and chin as well. His lips are red and swollen, and he’s sporting a lopsided smile as he looks at you.

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair, “Literally everything you do, say, and how you look is just flawless. Are you sure you aren’t an angel?” you joke.

A smile spreads upon Cillian’s face as his cheeks tinge pink, the warmth traveling to his ears, “I’m not perfect by any means, and no, I’m not an angel,” he says, his accent thick and raspy from the previous exertion.

“Mmm, I’m not sure about that,” you say as CIllian softly kisses your neck.

God, I love you, you want to say. Because you do; you love him. You always have, but sharing such intimate moments with Cillian has just strengthened the feeling you already had. You’re honestly exhausted but still blissed out from Cillian going absolutely feral on you. You have never squirted before, and if you could, you’d let him make you squirt all night. You’d watch as your arousal covers his pretty face, delighting him much like it did earlier. Cillian looked like a kid in a candy store as you gushed for him.

“I’ve never squirted before, so,” you mutter, covering your face with your hands, “Yeah, I’d consider that angelic.”

“Really?” Cillian asks incredulously, “Never? Not even by yourself?”

“Especially not by myself,” you chuckle, uncovering your face to look at Cillian, “You’re better than any vibrator or dildo I own.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Cillian bites your jaw playfully before reaching down and grabbing the duvet, covering the both of you with it.

He rolls off you, much to your dismay. But he immediately pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly with his arms as if you’ll disappear. Cillian slides a leg between yours, his knee pressed against you softly. He rubs his nose against your ear, “Still wet, pretty?”

“Shut up,” you mutter shyly, burying your face in his arms.

“Only if you make me,” Cillian teases you, nipping at your earlobe.

You groan, “Too tired,” you feel Cillian’s hand travel down your navel to gauge how wet you still are, “I don’t think I can move.”

“Who said you had to move?” Cillian asks, pulling your thigh up until your leg is draped over his hip, spreading you open for perfect access.

Before you can ask him to touch you, Cillian lines his length up with your still-needy cunt. You’re surprised you had any remainder of horniness left in you. But there’s something about Cillian that naturally turns you on. You’ve noticed it’s gotten more intense now that he’s your sexual partner. It’s like you can’t get enough of him, and he can’t get enough of you, either. Cillian nudges his tip into you before letting it glide in without a hitch. The way you’re laying makes the angle at which he’s inside of you feel irresistible. You let Cillian play with your still-sensitive clit as his hips snap into your ass. His hot, heavy breath is in your ear as he fucks you slowly. You toss your arm behind you, grabbing the back of Cillian’s neck for leverage as you turn your head around. His lips meet yours hungrily, and he swallows your guttural moans as you fuck yourself on his cock. Cillian’s other hand snakes from underneath you, his fingers wrapping around your throat. He doesn’t press them into your skin but lets them rest there, almost possessively.

You’ve been exploring each other’s bodies ever since the first night you had sex- trying different angles and positions. But you told Cillian that you didn’t want anything rough. That was reserved for a romantic relationship. Cillian felt a twinge of hurt in his chest when you said that, as if you had meant you weren’t planning on a romantic relationship with him specifically. But he understood and respected your boundaries despite his weird sadness about not being able to do certain things with you. Cillian thought it odd because you were not his, so he had no right to hurt you consensually or mark you as his. So, he shouldn’t be so upset about it. Yet he is because he wants you to trust him with everything you have, and he wants to take care of you after the roughness. Cillian wants you to be taken care of. But he knows his limits and that he can’t break the rules of the friends-with-benefits situation. So Cillian doesn’t choke you during sex, or slap you, or kiss you outside the bedroom- especially in public. He bites his tongue every time you do something that melts his heart. He refrains from saying those three little words every day. Cillian has no idea how much you wished he would break the rules just once or how you wished he’d say he loves you.

Something comes over you, though. You reach a hand up and cover Cillian’s that is on your neck and press his fingers into the sides of your throat. You sigh contently as your head becomes cloudy from the lack of blood flow to your head. Cillian stops rubbing your clit and takes your hand from over his, slipping his fingers between yours and pinning it in front of you.

You whimper in detest, and Cillian nips at the skin behind your ear, “Naughty thing. Don’t break your own rules, sweetheart.”

You sigh in defeat, but before you can pout, a moan rips through your chest. Cillian pushed your clave up into your thigh, thus making it easier for him to ram his cock against your cervix in a way that sends stars floating across your vision. Your hand squeezes his as you feel your release creeping up.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, watching as Cillian’s length moves in and out of you quickly.

It was erotic yet romantic, him being so close to you and inside you. You and Cillian are now one, but you wish things were different.

“Good,” Cillian kisses the back of your neck, his nose drawing circles in your skin delicately.

You breathe deeply, feeling your stomach clench. You cry out Cillian’s name as you unravel, his fingers pressing to your clit. Your body trembles and shakes as he continues his assault on the bundle of nerves, still chasing after his own high as he keeps thrusting into you. Your back arches, toes curling as another wave of pleasure hits you.

“You’re doing so good, angel,” Cillian praises in your ear, “Taking my cock so well. I’m almost there, just hold on.”

The feeling of Cillian exploding inside you sends you over the edge for the third and final time. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, your body convulsing from pleasure. Your pussy clenches around him as he rides out his orgasm, panting in your ear. He almost doesn’t hear you say it. Almost.

“Fuck, I love you,” you whine quietly.

You gasp, immediately realizing what’s slipped from your mouth in a shroud of cloudy pleasure. But you hide your gasp as you catch your breath, inhaling and exhaling sharply. You pray to whatever is out there that Cillian didn’t hear you proclaim your feelings in a vulnerable moment.

Cillian grunts as he pulls out of you, letting your leg go limp and relax back on the bed. He keeps his hand entangled with yours. But you pull your grasp out of his, turning around and facing him. You hurriedly bury your face in his chest so you can’t look at him and see how he’s possibly reacting to your words. Cillian wordlessly wraps his arms around you, pulling you even closer to him. You fight the urge to cry at the silence of the dimly lit room as Cillian tugs the duvet over your sweaty, naked bodies. You try and steady your breath and keep your heart from racing.

“Can you say it again?” Cillian finally asks after several minutes of dead silence.

You lift your head from his chest, looking at him confused, “Say what?”

Cillian looks at you seriously before lifting his hand to touch your face gingerly, “What you said a moment ago.”

“You didn’t hear that, did y-”

“I did. But I want you to say again.”

Tears brim your eyes as you feel heaviness in your chest- will he make fun of you? Did you just ruin everything?

You let out a choked sob, hiding your face in his neck, “I love you. I fucking love you. There, I said it,” you slam your fist against his chest. “Feel free to hate me, but it’s true.”

“I could never hate you, gorgeous,” Cillian pulls away from you, his hands grabbing your cheeks so you’re looking directly at him.

His eyelashes flutter against your cheekbones, much like they did the first time you kissed him weeks ago. You blink away your tears, but Cillian wipes them away with his thumbs.

“I love you too,” Cillian confesses, “I love you so much. You know that?”

Your lips tremble as you nod, but Cillian presses his forehead against yours, and you try to ground yourself. He loves you. Cillian loves you back. Cillian kisses your lips gently as if he’d break you. You grasp his hair, kissing him back passionately.

“I love you,” you say, pulling away from his lips and kissing his eyelids instead.

“I love everything about you,” you brush your lips across his cheeks, then kiss his nose, “Your angel kisses. Your beautiful eyes. Everything about you. I wasn’t lying when I said you’re perfect.”

Cillian laughs, and you melt at his smile.

“You,” Cillian says, “Are everything to me. Everything that brings me joy, everything that makes me happy.”

You wrap your arms around Cillian’s neck, pulling him close to you as you tuck your face into his neck.

“Never let go,” Cillian says, his arms snaking around your waist and holding you close.

“I won’t,” you say, a heaviness lifting from your chest at last, “I never will.”

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love-marimo · 1 year

Text

Carry Me Home (Various JJK Men x Reader)

ー drunken hcs of jjk men/reader wanting to be carried home

Lolita's Note: As far as I remember, Gojo canonically doesn't drink bc he says he can't stand alcohol, so I wanted to make him extra whiny bc I think he's a cute little bastard for that~ Also it's been a while since I wrote for jjk!! Yay ~ ♡

Gojo Satoru

Poor, poor you.

You never get away from his attention seeking behavior when he's sober, what more if he's drunk.

Will make all sorts of funny faces just to hear your sweet laugh (it boosts him up and will increase the chance of him clinging onto you)

He gets really loud and more shameless when he's drunk (or if he's in a sullen mood he would have this sulking expression on his face as he tries to keep to himself)

Whines, whines, whines a loooot

"Babe, let's go~"

"I want to go to bed with you.~

"Satoru, we're outside."

If he gets too drunk he becomes unaware of his surroundings so you have to keep an eye on him.

Wants a piggyback ride home

You end up complying, but after a few minutes your body gave up so you had to drag him with you

Yes, he's a handful. A manchild indeed.

Though, the rare times where you're the one who gets drunk, he becomes really observant.

Will do his best to listen to your woes, dance with you, give you a kiss or twoー all that jazz.

Geto Suguru

This man… drinks his frustrations away.

No, scratch that. He drinks and ponders about everything.

Geto worries and thinks a lot. It's his second nature. Though he toned down a lot after he parted ways with Satoru.

Before, especially during his time at Jujutsu Tech, his choice of drink were beer cans strong spirits like whiskey and gin.

He drinks a lot, so naturally he also has a high tolerance.

But after he established his own cult, he settled for wine and saké. And he doesn't drink as much as he used to.

You really don't have to worry too much about him losing control of himself. He's got you, especially if you're a lightweight.

One time though, in his tipsy state he will suddenly walk to you and pull you into a hug and he'll whisper sweet nothings to your ear.

"I love you."

"Did you know that you're so beautiful tonight?"

"Oh, my sweet little darling has their cheeks painted pink~"

You got a little frustrated at his lingering touches so you suddenly challenged him to a drinking contest.

Which you lost to, and now you want nothing more than for him to take you home.

He'll laugh at your state for a bit before he sweeps you off your feet and obliges.

Once you pass out he'll take photos of your messed up state.

Maybe it's for times where he'll be drinking alone.

Before his thoughts eat him alive once more, he'll look at those photos of yours so that he can silence them all at once.

Nanami Kento

Now this is a man who drinks his frustrations away.

Whiskey is his favorite.

You'll either find him alone at the dining room or by the bar stool as he silently finishes his glass… that you probably lost count of.

"Love, you need to stop drinking for now."

Nanami often has this exhausted expression on his face that gets really highlighted when he drinks.

His eyebags, tousled hair and wrinkled suit are telltale signs that he's really on the edge of it.

"I should drive, okay? You're really drunk."

He nods and he presses a kiss to your cheek.

God, he reeks of the musky scent of whiskey.

He'll end up venting to you about his wishes for a more relaxed life. And he'll promise again and again that he'll make it come true just for the sake of you both.

Toji Fushiguro

Definitely someone who drinks beer and rum.

Although he doesn't drink often, he'll gladly join you if you invite him to drink with you. Even if he despises alcohol.

He prefers it if you come over to his place or a nearby bar (make sure you put everything on your tab, he's broke as hell).

Sometimes he drinks a beer can while he cleans his weapons.

"Hey. What's up, doll?"

"Don't you dare puke on me now-"

"Geez, you've made a mess."

Says him as you spilled your guts outside the club you went to.

"Let's get you home now."

He's got decent tolerance, but that's because he's not a heavy drinker. He prefers guarding you over drinking with you.

Def would piggyback you or carry you over his shoulder like a ragdoll as you whine at him for not letting you return back to the club.

He's not the best, but he cleans you up with a damp rag and places another one on your forehead to help lower your temperature.

The type you'll see shirtless the next morning while cooking you breakfast and hangover food.

ー Lolita

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lowkeychenle · 3 months

Note

HELLO MY DEAR I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE A REQUEST PLEASE 🌹 thought abt this classic scenario w chenle and immediately thought of ur writing hehe so like.... a fic where y'all go to your parents' house to visit and you stay the night and chenle's been eyeing you all day and now ofc he's horny as hell and the cliche of fucking when ur parents are right next door and trying not to be heard commences 😈 bonus points when ur jokingly trying to put up a front of "noooo its so wrong" but chenle knowsss you'll fold eventually and melt bc of his kisses and be putty in his hands.... also when his dirty talk is all like "i knew u wanted this" and how ur so dirty for seducing him and doing this when ur parents are right in the next room and can hear u and he has to put his hand over ur mouth to cover the noise (when its literally his fault like 🤨) anyways i know you'll come out w something amazing as always so thank you in advance my love 💓

- mari

oh my god hello this took me thirty freaking years I'm SOOOO sorry but I'm here and I tried to write this so plzzzz let me know if this is awful :D (plz I wrote this in like an hour last night i haven't written chenle smut in so long i was going through withdrawals)

Description: You and Chenle visit your family, and things get frisky idk y'all lol this was a request :D

Genre: Smut *MDNI*

Word Count: 2,165

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader

Content Warnings: Chenle says pretty girl, slut, mentions of the possibility of being caught by parents, orgasm denial, a mirror is involved, teasing, yk the drill LOL it's all here yay

Juliet's Masterlist | thoughts are appreciated loll

smut below the cut!

All you wanted to do was have a seamless visit with your parents. You and Chenle were going to stay there for the weekend since you hadn’t seen your family in a while, so you figured your boyfriend would be on his best behavior. Oh, how wrong you were.

It started off simple—quick smacks on your ass, resting his warm hand on your thigh while his thumb rubs your skin. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing his attempts to turn you on are working, so you opt to ignore him completely.

It doesn’t work. He pushes and pushes your limits until you have to swat him away from you. Your last straw was when his touch trailed over to your inner thigh, up, up, up until his fingertips brushed your clothed core. You jolted so hard, you startled your parents at the dinner table. Chenle, of course, thought it was hilarious. He’d been wanting you bad all day, and it wasn’t his fault you wore a skirt.

What’s worse, is that when he was preparing to finger you under the table, he held a steady and respectful conversation with your dad. As much as you hate to admit it, the two sides of Chenle on display for you drove you crazy.

Your father leaves the table to answer an important call, and your mom chooses then to get up and grab the desert.

“C’mon, babe,” Chenle murmurs, tapping your leg. “Let me make you feel good.”

“Are you crazy? We’re with my parents, Chenle.”

He hums, dropping his head on your shoulder to easily press his lips to your neck. “I know you. You want me.”

“(Y/N), can you help me?” your mom calls from the kitchen.

“Coming!” you yell, quickly pulling yourself from Chenle and glaring at him the whole way out of the room.

You hate how right he is—how damp your panties are at the thought of him taking you here when your parents might hear. It should repulse you, but instead, you feel your entire body heat up at the thought.

Desert drags, and Chenle rubs the top of your leg where it meets your hip, back and forth while you squirm at the contact. If your parents notice how erratic you’ve become, they don’t mention it.

“Mom, did you, um, did you need any help cleaning up?”

“Oh, honey, that’s okay.” Your mother waves you off. “It’s getting late. You two have been traveling all day, we’ll get this and you get some rest.”

Chenle doesn’t even hide the smug look on his face when he intertwines your fingers together. “Thanks, I am exhausted.”

Bullshit. He wants to get you alone as soon as possible.

Next thing you know, you’re leading him upstairs to get him undressed. Although, you didn’t expect for it to lead you to your current predicament.

Chenle’s slender fingers slide into you easily with how wet you are. After teasing you all day, he’s got you dripping down onto the sheets. He moves slowly, staring at you smugly with his other hand covering your mouth. Your eyes roll back, and you fist the sheets as if that’ll stop the overwhelming need.

The walls of your childhood bedroom close in on you like yours close in around Chenle’s fingers, and everything starts to spin. He reaches deep inside, curling to find your spot. With his palm firm on your lips, your moan doesn’t make it past his skin. He chuckles, leaning close to your ear without messing with his pace.

“See, pretty girl? I knew you wanted it. Can’t stay off my cock even with your parents down the hall, huh?”

You mutter incoherently in your best attempt to spur him forward, to get him to fuck you as soon as possible, but it seems his evening of teasing is far from over. He places his thumb on your mouth instead, and you instinctively open up and swirl your tongue around it.

“Little fucking slut,” he tsks. “Can you stay quiet for me while I make you feel good?”

You nod fervently, lifting your hips to match his pace. Desperate to reach your end, you clench the bedspread harder to ground yourself. If you make a sound, you know he won’t continue.

He uses the wetness of your saliva to trail down from your mouth to your collarbone down to your breasts, watching you in a mix of wonder and awe as your nipples harden further beneath his touch. You let out a shaky sigh, but luckily for you, he doesn’t count that against you.

Despite his distraction, his fingers still brush against your spot with every steady thrust, and your mind reels from the pleasure, your orgasm just out of reach. He knows your body like the back of his hand at this point, so he’s well aware of what you need.

As he continues his venture down, the cold air sends chills all over you. He stops at your lower abdomen, rubbing his thumb against your skin.

“Remember,” he whispers. “Keep it down, alright?”

You don’t have time to reassure him before he nudges your clit. Inhaling sharply, you slap your own hand over your mouth.

“No.” He grabs your wrist and pulls your arm away. “Just fucking be good, you brat. Make a noise and you don’t get to cum.”

And he continues his work, rubbing your clit in steady, perfect circles while he pumps his fingers in and out of you. His self-control surprises even you, with the way he hasn’t fucked you yet. The bulge in his boxers strain, and you can practically taste the precum dripping from his tip already. You crave it so fucking badly, you almost forget you’re supposed to be quiet.

When you let out a low curse, the determined look on Chenle’s face turns to stone, and he stops his circles to land a smack on your sensitive bud instead. “Shut the fuck up, slut.”

Your body jerks, tears forming in your eyes, but you nod, so close to the brink it’s like you’re already there. The knot ties in your stomach almost as soon as his thumb is back on your clit, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip hard.

You’re so close, the warning signs of your orgasm becoming far too real to ignore. Lifting your hips, you’re desperate to match his pace, desperate to cum over and over again solely from his touch.

But just before the band of pleasure snaps, he abruptly removes his touch from you, leaving you to clench around nothing. You want to whine, to cry out for his attention, but you don’t dare when he warned you already.

“Get on the floor,” he tells you.

“The floor?” you ask breathlessly.

“Ass in the air, gonna show you how sluts get fucked when they don’t fucking listen.” He grips your thigh. “Hurry up, we don’t have all night.”

You leap up from your bed, eager to please the man who holds the key to your euphoria. The carpet digs uncomfortably into your knees as you arch your back, putting yourself on display for him. Your bed is much too creaky for anything other than missionary, and sometimes, even that’s enough to cause it to squeak if Chenle has anything to say about it.

His hands squeeze your ass, massaging you while he studies you. A quick smack has you shuddering again. His shuffle to take off the last of the clothing covering him is music to your ears, and you wiggle back against him to try to entice him further.

He grabs a pillow and tosses it to you, and you already know what it’s for. You take it gratefully, but you bite down on it in preparation of what’s to come. The thought of getting caught has wetness leaking down your thighs, and as he rubs his hard cock along your entrance to collect it, you’re already shaking. Being denied an orgasm already has every inch of you craving release. His tip brushes your clit, and you push back with a muffled whine.

“What if I just leave you like this?” he asks, dragging his nails along your back.

You shake your head and repeat over and over, “Please. Please.”

“How disappointed would your parents be if they saw you like this, huh? Just down the hall begging to be fucked like a whore…” He slides his tip in, his breath catching at the sensation.

Your chorus of pleas are muffled by the pillow, but you push yourself back, making him slide another inch inside you. Legs wobbling already, you ignore the burn of the carpet against your knees.

Finally, he gives you some reprieve. As slowly as he can manage, he opens you up with his cock. You whimper, eyes watering as you bury your head in the plush fabric below you, already slick with your saliva.

“You sure you’re ready, baby?” he asks breathlessly, nails digging into your hips. “One sound and we stop, got it?”

You can’t manage a response, not with the way he fills you so completely. Whatever he’s gonna give you, you need it.

The choice to move to the floor makes more sense as he gives you one reassuring squeeze to your waist. He thrusts slowly twice, groaning quietly at the feeling.

And then he really starts. His hips slam into yours, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obvious and impossible to mask. You can barely breathe while he fucks you, your body jolting and the carpet rubbing against your knees. The pillow is drenched with your spit, and you’re biting down so hard your jaw starts to hurt. He pants behind you, his tip reaching your cervix with every rough thrust.

His cock pulses inside you, like he’s ready to burst at any given second. It’s so overwhelmingly good, tears stream down your face. Next thing you know, he’s wrapping his fingers around your neck and pulling you up until your back is against his chest. He squeezes tight enough to make sure no noises will escape you, but your brain clears long enough to see his motive.

The mirror stands in front of you, displaying your body as Chenle slides in and out of you at a steady pace. He leans forward, tightening his grip on your neck.

“See the mess you made?” He licks the shell of your ear. “You’re taking me so fucking easy right now, slut. Don’t think you’ve earned the right to cum.”

Whatever escapes your lips is muffled gibberish.

“I guess I’ll be nice.” His condescending tone sends a chill down your spine as his hand dips between your legs. All it takes is the slight brush of his fingertips to send you reeling over the edge, your body jerking as your orgasm takes you full-force. He doesn’t stop there, though, applying pressure to your clit and rubbing fast. Your vision blurs as a burst of wetness soaks your thighs.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, breaking his rough facade for the briefest moment while he processes what just happened.

He pulls out of you, much to your protest, and turns you on your back. Propping your legs up on his shoulders, he slides back inside with ease, his own eyes fluttering shut. He leans down and takes your mouth with his, the stretch in your legs almost as delicious as he tastes.

“Need to see that pretty face when I cum.” He nips your ear lobe, rocking his hips hard against yours.

Mind hazy from your orgasm, you stare at him in awe as his face contorts with pleasure with every thrust. When his pace becomes erratic, you know he’s close.

He moans lowly in your ear, pushing himself as deep as possible before he spills his load. Panting, he wastes no time in kissing you sweetly, gently as he releases your legs from their uncomfortable position. He rubs your thigh, humming into your mouth.

“You did so well,” he whispers. “You feeling okay? Was it too much?”

You still can’t speak, so with a smile, you shake your head and place a hand flat on his chest.

He pulls out slowly, a shaky breath escaping his lips as he does. A sheen of sweat covers him, the gentle starlight from the windows illuminating him just enough for you to see. He stands, puts his boxers on, and walks over to grab your towel.

You’re oversensitive, and as he spreads your legs again to clean you up, the rough fabric against your clit makes you jolt.

“I love you.” He kisses your forehead in an attempt to distract you from the mess he made. “You’re so perfect, you know that?”

You weakly smack his shoulder. “You did all of this at my parents’ house?”

He grins, scooping you up to help you onto your bed. “Don’t complain. The wet spot on the ground says you liked it.”

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct dream smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #chenle smut #nct smut #nct dream chenle #chenle imagine #chenle scenario #chenle x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream scenario #nct dream imagines #nct hard hours

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imhidingonceagain · 6 months

Text

Slimeriana and QSMP fans, we need to talk (really, I'm going to talk about a few things).

CW: nsfw

Warning: long post.

At this point I think majority of you guys know what happened with Mariana yesterday (especially because the fliporiana community is small compared to other ones).

I'm gonna write some stuff Mariana said and I'm gonna be explicit about it because I want you guys to understand the severity of the situation (this is your warning):

Context: He was curious to see if people actually posted nsfw stuff about him (and poor boy, he really thought he wouldn't find any).

And I quote what he said after seeing some posts: "No, no, no! Why's Slime penetrating me?!" (He was probably looking at a fanart)

"I'm not doing role like that with Slime anymore. I thought you guys found it funny (he was talking about the sex role in the QSMP) but it only fills your minds with shit"

"I'm gonna say it in English because I know there's QSMP fans who do it as well: Don't draw hentai about me, don't draw us fucking, that's being a pervert, that's wrong"

Some months ago I wrote a post when we got the first warning in regards of this topic.

Mariana and Slime have talked about fanart before and at the time they didn't seem uncomfortable about it (though it seems like Charlie's girlfriend was).

So I wrote: it's not necessary to stop doing fanart about them. Just be careful with what you draw and where you post it.

To me even "suggestive" fanarts are "okay" (but with suggestive I mean the characters looking at each other like they want to kiss each other so bad, that's it). But when and how did that translate to some of you thinking that drawing real people having sex and not only having sex (because there's always ways to show intercourse without being explicit or disgusting) but also showing private parts is okay?

Because it's obvious Mariana saw something super explicit by the way he reacted (because he doesn't get bothered too easily). My poor man was distressed!

And let me tell you something. This is not only about Mariana and Slimecicle. This is a REAL PROBLEM within the fandom. Let me give you some examples:

I love reading fanfiction and months ago I was scrolling through the QSMP section on AO3 and let me tell you something: the amount of fanfiction written about the eggs and their parents in a non platonic way is CONCERNING.

Especially Wilbur Soot's fandom seems to have a lot of rotten apples who think that writing abusive stories about q! Wilbur and Tallulah is fine.

I understand some people write stories like that not because they're crime apologists, but because that's their way to deal with trauma (and dealing with trauma through art is okay). But PLEASE remember that while the eggs are fictional, their "parents" are REAL people.

Use fictional characters, please. Stop writing real people into pedophilic or highly abusive situations. THAT'S HORRENDOUS.

Another example is the following: Some weeks ago people were reporting a Twitter account and I clicked on the account (I personally don't like reporting people without making sure they deserved) and it took me like three seconds of scrolling to see more than 5 Ccs being disrespected (including Slimecicle, Quackity, Cellbit, Roier and Badboyhalo). Explicit Pictures, videos and fanarts were being posted about these creators.

You know what I think? I think Cellbit made his character asexual not only for the representation (it's clear by now that q! Cellbit is a sex positive asexual which is still representation yay!) But because he has been on the internet since around 2011 and he knows how disrespectful people can be. I think he knew that his and Roier's ship was getting too popular and that makes them both unprotected to shit like this.

Sadly, it's clear that it didn't matter that Cellbit made his character asexual, people can't seem to respect that detail about his character and about himself as a real person.

To some people it doesn't matter if the Cc is ambiguous or completely clear about their boundaries, they still don't give a fuck.

Please remember that behind each character is a real person. I understand sometimes you guys want to see your favorite characters fuck -me too, honestly- but for people like streamers that's out of the questions because not only they're real people, but because their work is related to social media and the possibilities of them finding EVERYTHING we write and post about them are super high.

I don't know how to feel. It's obvious that Mariana has not been feeling the same about the server since Juanaflippa died. Maybe this will make him feel even worse about the QSMP but I hope I'm wrong.

#el mariana #elmariana #slimecicle #slimeriana #fliporiana #qsmp #elmariana fanart #qsmp fanart #wilbur soot #cellbit #Quackity

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rottnteen · 9 months

Note

yay! can you please write a mgg or spencer reid (nsfw) drabble based kind of that moodboard you made <3 it can be anything like punishing reader or teasing and reader just saying they can’t take it anymore :0? reader just being a needy mess not rlly able to speak. would honestly prefer spence/ mgg just being a soft dom but still stern on the rules? eeek i’m kinda nervous about submitting this but.. it’s rotting in my brain! 🎀

OFC! I LOVE REQUESTS! :D I also don’t write for real life people, only fictional characters (just so you know for the future <3) Don’t be nervous to send requests pls pls pls. I ENCOURAGE requests. pls send more :( This was meant to be a drabble but goodness gracious. I got carried away.

tw: MDNI, girly reader, afab!reader, needy clingy reader, soft!dom!spencer, teasing, punishment, smut, unprotected pnv, hand kink (obvi), degradation, praise, dom and sub relationship, girlfriend and boyfriend, kissing (oooo), pain, spanking, bondage (kinda), mention of a safe word, underlying tones of possessive!spencer, decryphilia

You hadn’t listened to his rules. He said you were being a “brat”, a word you hated. You had been sitting in his lap as he worked on some documents. That’s it!

At first, it was innocent.

But you saw the way his hands glided over the paper as he read, the veins popping ever so slightly. You hoped that the way your thighs clenched were going unnoticed by him when he flexed his fingers around his ballpoint pen as he wrote.

You held a stuffed animal he had given you, a bunny you’ve named Bun, in your own lap. Trying to distract yourself. Eventually, you started squirming. Your distraction not working.

Spencer was a patient man. He loved you and cared for you. But he also liked to stick to the rules. And distracting him from his work is one of those rules. He had quickly stilled your hips with one hand, the other trying to write. “Don’t.” His voice was soft but affirming. Not helping your arousal but deepening it. You’d let out a small whine at his words and he quickly tsked. “Listen.” He had said in that same voice.

That’s how you got here. On the bed naked (except for your thigh high socks) and spread open whilst he was fully clothed, sporting a large hard on. Your hands are tied to the bed post with his work ties. His fingers teased lightly on your inner thighs and you whine again, he slaps your thigh in disapproval. “S-spence…”

He shakes his head no, getting up and grabbing your bunny from the floor. “You think she is happy with the way your acting?” He asks, propping it up on the dresser. You let out a choked sob, moving your arms but to no avail. You cant get out of your position. “You know our safe word.” He tuts, “Now Bun is going to have to watch the way you get punished. I was hoping you’d be a good girl. Stay seated and wait till I was done.” He shakes his head. He comes back to you, his fingers teasing the lips of your cunt. Just as you think he’s going to open you up, he doesn’t.

He slaps your pussy, causing your back to arch and you to moan out in pain and pleasure. “Slut” He mutters and does it again, getting the same reaction out of you. Small pleas that are incoherent leave your mouth. Spencer’s fingers brush in between your thighs and he smiles. Grinning like the devil. He kisses your thighs and then trails them up your stomach up to the valley in between your breasts.

He chuckles and starts to leave love bites on your collarbone, neck and chest. “Mine” He whispers in your ear before kissing your earlobe and working his way over to your other to do the same thing. He crawls down from the top of your body back down to your lower half.

“I cant.” You whisper.

His grin grows, “Cant what?”

“I need more.” Your lip trembles as his breath ghosts over your heat. “I need you to fuck me.” Tears start at the corner of your eyes as he sucks little hickeys onto your hip bones.

“You gotta apologize. You broke my rules like a bad bad girl, bunny” He scolds

You sniffle, “M’sorry for breaking the rules like a bad girl,” You hiccup, “I’ll be a good girl. I pr-promise!”

He smiles at your crying; the tears falling down your pretty face. You bat your wet eyelashes and your cheeks turn rosy from the act. He comes up to your face and kisses your tears, bringing a finger to part your lips and you let out a moan at the small stimulation.

The sound is embarrassing. It’s wet. And sticky. And loud. Spencer loves it. He brings the finger to his lips and moans, a meek squeak coming from yours. He then undoes his belt. The sound causing your thighs to clench together. He takes his clothes off, stroking his cock as he comes to the edge of the bed and parts your legs. He puts your calves on his shoulders and lines himself up with your hole.

He slides in with no resistance, your tight cunt sucking him up immediately. His hand comes down to your thigh as the other holds one of your legs on his shoulders, “Was made for me.” He mumbles to himself. He looks down at you in bliss. Your mouth is open and your eyes are rolled back, your panting and you hold the ties with all your might. “Are you just a dumb bunny when a cock is in her?” He teases lightly, now thrusting in and out you while kissing your ankle to show love and affection. “Fuck”

You babble as he thrusts in you. Small uh’s or little moans of his name. He also hears you say he has the best dick, and that he can take whatever he needs. Soon your clenching hard and he brings one finger down to mess with your clit. “Cum.” He orders you.

Just like that, to his will, your body lets go. Arching for him and giving yourself to him as he cums into your body, a warm flood you welcome.

#rottnteen fics #rottnteen answers #🎀 anon #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid scenario #matthew gray gubler #mgg

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sea-of-dust · 1 month

Note

whahsbebshdd i’m rlly shy abt this and i saw the bedman hcs you wrote and i loved it so much it had my legs kicking and my hair twirling

requesting bedman x a really loving kinda clingy reader,,,,,,

Bedman x GN! Clingy! Loving! Reader

There's no summary it's general headcannons annons letting me be werid!!

N: YIPPEEEEEEE, dont be shy about future requests when open asks are welcomed! thank you for the request!

Warnings: spoilers for bedman during strive and xrd, and minor spoilers for bedmans? Story

He's not escaping you, like ever not like he wants to anyway. "I'm leaving!" "Not without me!" You rush toward the door "you're still in your pjs" "does it matter?" He sighs disappintedly, you could probably do a pushup for everytime he sighs and end up swole and then he'd sigh again

You blame him for being likeable for you being as loving as you are. His kisses even though they're just small taps on the cheek from him they always leave you wanting him to do it again. "Stop" "I'm not doing anything tho" "you're about to ask me if I want to let you brush my hair" "....no" "do it" "yay!" Atleast someone takes care of his physical appearance for em, he's getting free spa days without someone complaining over how much he nitpicks. "Under my nails have been a bit dirty too" "I'll get it" "and there might be a pimple near my leg" "I'll pop it" "dirt in my glasses aswell" you stop what you're doing just to stare it him blankly, even though his eyes were closed he could still feel you staring bullets. "What?" "Are they even prescription?"

He'd enjoy the times he got to appear in your dreams, he's awake able to talk...alot...but his voice is pretty it's not like he'll rant so hard he raps about the same topic twice "when we talk about survival of the fittest-" that was all u listened to before just hearing a mumble of his voice, him just going on and on with you nodding your head. Other than the long 12 page essay front to back that comes out of his mouth he can also be quite engaged in dreams, specifically yours. He'd 100% ask you the next dream you have with him in it. "So what did you dream about?" Your eyes widen before your face goes stone cold "a discount at the supermarket and me trying to make homemade ice cream sandwiches that ended up exploding" he pushes up his glasses "is that so?" "Yea" "because a little birdie told me you were dreaming of me" you giggle, foolish mistake infront of him of all people, you'd have to wipe that dream out of your brain before he gets it outta you

He'd act like he doesn't like how much physical affection, hed be all "love is feable it isn't going to last and most people that are motivated by it end up crying in someone's couch" but everytime you headed his warnings, he'd get a tad...pretty annoyed. "Am I disgusting to you?" "What?" "You haven't hugged me for an entire 6 minutes is there a bug on me?" "I thought you didn't like me being that way" "I do" for the first time you sigh disapointedly "Alright buddy" "so you're not even going to call me Romeo now" you somehow can feel him putting hands on his hips, expect him to be ranting in his dreams because he didn't ever expect you to call him anything other than Romeo and not hug him for 6 minutes. You've learned giving him a small kiss is usually enough for him to forgive you.

You're also the person behind how polished the bed is, with Romeo or not. "You've gotten a bit rusty" it gently squeezes your hand "I ment physically, I'll take it off I wonder if it'll hurt you like this" Delilah trusts you a bit with him not knowing the extent of your relationship. "Don't touch him too much" "you think he'll attack me?" "Maybe" you pat the beds hand "don't worry I can fix him" you feel both siblings give judgemental looks. "That's crazy I can hear your brother sighing and calling me a fool"

#x reader #fluff #gender neutral reader #bedman x reader #bedman #bedman guilty gear #guilty gear #guilty gear strive #guilty gear xrd #ggst #ggstrive #gg xrd #gg x reader #gg xrd x reader #guilty gear x reader #guilty gear bedman

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silverofthunder · 4 months

Text

☆ plan for us ☆

Papa Emeritus I x GN Reader

summary: Just a short and sweet moment between Primo & Reader.

content: 452 words, fluff, romance, slice of life, SFW

Finally! It's been a while since I wrote something. This little idea just came up and I had to write this. 😊 First time writing about Primo, so yay! Hope you like this!

You watched as Primo was making some herbal tea, the scents of mixed herbs slowly filling the air. The man quietly hummed some song you couldn't recognize but it still made you smile.

Your gaze wandered to the window and you could see the bright sunlight outside. The smile on your lips only grew wider and you let out a faint sigh.

"Daydreaming again, my love?" Primo's soft voice broke you out of your thoughts and you met the man's slightly amused expression as he set the cup of tea on the table in front of you.

"Summer is just so beautiful this time," you started quietly and took a hold of the cup, lifting it up and breathing in the delicious scent of tea.

Primo chuckled slightly, then leaned to press a light kiss onto your forehead. You hummed contently and brought the tea cup to your lips, taking a taste of the tea. Primo moved farther and sat down onto the chair opposite you.

The tea was sweet but no too sweet, just how you liked it. Primo was looking at you with soft eyes while slowly tapping the table with his fingers. You smiled at him before taking another sip of the tea.

"How did we get so lucky?" you then asked, the question popping into your head out of blue. Primo's brows quirked up.

"You tell me, tesoro."

You shrugged, smiling. "I guess someone had plans for us."

Primo chuckled again and slid his hand along the table, towards you. You took his hand and gave it a light squeeze.

"And maybe that someone has more plans for us soon..."

Primo's words made you heart flutter in your chest, the excitement growing within.

"Oh, what is it?"

"Patience, my dearest," Primo said, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing it. "You will see it soon."

You gave Primo a slight pout and Primo just shook his head, smiling. He knew how you didn't like to wait things to happen but you guessed you had no choice but to wait this time.

"It's better be something really good," you stated, a small smirk on your lips.

"I hope it is but I still have some doubts."

Primo's expression turned slightly - nervous maybe? - and it was a bit concerning. But it also meant that this was something he really had thought about and took seriously.

With a sigh, you set the cup of tea onto the table and stood up, moving to sit on Primo's lap. He wrapped his arms around you as you leaned in to kiss him. It was a short and sweet, like a unspoken promise.

For Primo you were willing to wait just a moment longer.

#primo x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #jen writes fics

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mortyvongola2-0 · 2 years

Text

Quickie

Pairing: Gaara of the Sand x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, Smut

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: afab!reader, dirty talk, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, creampie, panty stealing, quickie in a closet, big boi Gaara, strong language (Gaara gets to curse~ yay~)

A/N: Its about damn time I wrote something for my man. Also have I ever mentioned how much I love @therantingfangirl? Because I do, she even makes time to proofread little pieces like this for me~

Read it on AO3

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mouth falling open and your head falling back. There was a loud thunk as the back of your head met the wall. “Ahh,” you groaned, both pain and pleasure coursing through you.

“Shh,” your lover hushed, a strained smirk on his lips. “You’re going to get us caught.”

“S-sorry.” Your grip on the back of his neck tightened, moving your hips in attempts to take in more of his swollen length. The stretch burned, a lack of preparation causing a majority of your struggle, but it just further spurred you on.

“Fuck.” The gravel of his voice made you shiver. “Too tight,” he grunted, his hands moving to hold your legs further apart while remaining wrapped around his waist. The soft texture of his sand held you against the wall, preventing you from hitting your head again. “Relax.”

Nodding wordlessly, you tried to relax your muscles but the more he sunk into you the more your walls fluttered around him. He felt like the perfect limbo, the familiar stretch and length a pleasure while the rushed entrance was a torture. His breathing hitched as he finally bottomed out, he paused to allow you both a moment to adjust.

It wasn’t like you weren’t wet, you most certainly were. Everything about him turned you on. The seafoam green of his eyes, the bright red of his hair, the commanding mannerisms of a Kazekage, your favorite was that voice. So deep, so rugged, and it only got better with the weight of pleasure on his tongue. You wished he would talk more.

“I thought we were supposed to be quick.” You were panting and once you were readjusted to his large size, you bucked your hips into his. He grunted, nodded his head, and began to move his hips with yours. The more he thrust into you the wetter you became, until you could feel your arousal ease his every move. “Mmm, Gaara.”

“Not so loud,” he repeated, his breathing just as labored. “They’ll be in the next room for the meeting any minute.”

His hand reached down and began searching for your clit, his slippery fingers briefly touched your widened entrance and you gasped. The redhead shivered at the sound, his thrusts beginning to increase in speed. When his fingers found that bundle of nerves his sand moved to cover your mouth to muffle your cries. The tightening in your abdomen told you that you were approaching your peak, but you didn’t want to. You wanted to stay in this broom closet, connected to the one you loved, taking pleasure in each other’s bodies, even if only a little bit longer. You locked your legs around his hips, preventing him from pulling out. An almost inaudible growl rumbled from his throat, his grip became bruising, and his hips smacked into yours with abandon. He squeezed his eyes shut in concentration and you wanted to remove the sand to kiss him, to swallow his delicious grunts and groans.

He paused and you let out a whine, but you couldn’t help but freeze when you heard the doorknob begin to turn. You looked at him with wide eyes, his sand quickly shuffling over to lock the door and push against it incase the person had a key. As you impatiently waited for the person to leave, his fingers began to circle your clit once again. Another muffled moan tore through you.

The Kazekage was no longer looking at you, he continued to watch the doorknob jiggle as he played with your throbbing bud. It was an intense feeling; the mixture of anxiety from possibly being caught, his deft fingers changing direction, his cock throbbing as it waited impatiently inside you. Your fingernails dug into his clothed shoulders and your body trembled as you came, quiet whines leaving you. His eyes squeezed shut, your spasming walls causing him to lose concentration and let out a shaky breath.

“Guess I’ll need to get the keys,” came the muffled voice of the disgruntled janitor. Your heart was thrumming too loudly in your ears for you to hear his footsteps as he left, but as soon as the Kazekage was sure he was gone he moved his molten orbs back to you.

“You’re so filthy,” he grunted, his hips resuming their brutal pace. You were oversensitive and the resumed friction made your toes curl. “Cumming with someone else in earshot.”

His thrusts were beginning to lose rhythm, his sack smacked against your ass loudly. His fingers hadn’t stopped moving. His sand left your mouth and you leaned forward almost immediately. You buried your head in his neck and began mouthing at the covered skin, wishing you could tear through it and leave your marks on his pale skin. “Are you going to cum again?”

You nodded as well as you could. The redhead’s lips began to pepper your exposed neck with sloppy kisses of his own. You were so close, for the second time. To further chase that high, you began to grind against him messily. The changing angles made him scrape against that spongy part inside of you with every drag out. “G-Gaara,” you warned.

“Me to-oo,” he stuttered, his hips almost erratic. The sand at your back began to shift, trembling with the one who commanded it. The grip he had on your hips became painful and his teeth dug into your skin, marking you in the way you wanted to mark him. His arms shook as he moved to whisper in your ear. “Cum.”

How could you disobey a command like that?

Your eyes rolled back; his tip pressed against your cervix like it belonged there. A loud mewl began to leave your lips and he quickly covered them with his own. His hips stuttered and you felt the telltale warmth of his spend as your walls massaged it out of him. You licked his lips, desperately seeking his tongue to try and ground yourself. He continued to twitch inside of you, spurt after spurt making you feel full, and he groaned into your mouth as your tongues met.

He removed his fingers from your sex and brought that same shaky hand up to cup your cheek. Your head tilted and you licked the roof of his mouth. After a few more seconds, he began to soften and pulled out of you slowly. A shiver ran through you at the feeling of his semen leaking out and onto your thighs. The Kazakage lowered you to the ground gently, his breathing still rapid. You clutched his shoulders, your legs not quite ready to stand.

“Sorry,” he began, adjusting his clothes and putting himself away. A shame, you thought. Gaara placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Are you alright?”

“I’m more than alright.” You smirked. He smiled. His gentle hands began to help you fix your clothing, his sperm drying against your thighs. He gave you a hesitant look as he placed your panties in his robes, you snickered.

Once you were able to walk again the two of you went to the door. Gaara leaned down and placed a loving kiss against your swollen lips. “I may be a bit late today.”

“And I’ll be waiting,” you teased.

He opened the door, and you poked your head out, looking to the right before looking to the left. You didn’t see anyone, so you both began to step out of the closet before you heard someone clear their throat. You flushed in embarrassment while Gaara sighed, his older brother was leaning against the wall hidden by the door. “Did you guys have a good time?”

tagged list: @therantingfangirl @justmyownreality @mal-the-konohoe

#naruto series #gaara of the desert #gaara smut #gaara of the sand #gaara x reader #gaara x you #gaara x y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #mortyvongola2 0 fic #sabaku no gaara #kazekage gaara #naruto gaara #kankuro #mortyvongola2 fanfic

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cerridwen007 · 6 months

Text

Candy Cane.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (afab)

Word count: 1.6 k (18+ MINORS DNI!)

Summary: Frankie can’t help but stare as you suck on that candy cane, very reminiscent of some of your other favourite things to suck on.

Notes/warnings: SMUT, fluff, Frankie being an adorable cheeky menace, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, inappropriate use of a candy cane, swearing, no y/n, probs bad spanish. ( Let me know anything else if I missed it)

A/N: Yall, it's been way too long since I last posted, and for that, I'm very sorry. Work has been exhausting me, and I've just lacked motivation to do much writing. So take this early, smutty Christmas fic as my apology. Honestly, I don't know how good it is/how well editied it is as I wrote it in less than 24 hours as the idea just came to me as I was sitting down eating a candy cane, much like reader. Wink wink. Also, this is my first Frankie fic I've posted, so yay for that. I've got a few wips in progress for this cutie, so be ready for that. Likes, comments, and reposts are always appreciated. I'll post this to my A03 soon, which is linked in my bio, if you prefer reading on that platform. Hope yall enjoy.❤️🫶

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Frankie couldn't help but let his jaw drop in awe of you unconsciously sucking on a candy cane very reminiscent of how you sucked his dick merely a few days ago. How you always sucked his dick so good, leaving him a pathetic whining mess. His dick was throbbing as he watched your delicate fingers hold the curved end, twisting it up and into your mouth while your mouth bobbed up and down. An unbothered look on your face as you read your book, completely unaware of the effect you were having on your boyfriend sitting on the couch on the other side of the room from you.

Frankie can't help but groan a little, just loud for you to hear as it escapes the back of his throat. You look over to the other side of the room, where he sits on the couch palming his hard length through his jeans; sports playing on the tv long forgotten, as he stares at you with glazed over, dark eyes. Your smile grows wide when you realise just how you had been affecting him with such a mindless innocent action. Your hand holding the candy cane drops, leaving only your teeth to uphold the fruity, striped stick.

“You alright, sweetheart? You seem a little…distracted there.” You tease him as your eyelids droop to a flirtatious look.

He coughs a little before he answers, stumbling over his words. “Y-yeah, I'm doing real good, baby.”

You hum around the sweet confectionary, very reminiscent of a moan of pleasure, making sure to hollow your cheeks as the tart flavor hits your tongue.

“Wanna taste, baby? You're looking awfully desperate to have something sweet.” You say, holding the confectionary out to him, with your eyebrow raised.

He groans, squeezing his crotch, not managing to get out any words or approval other than an enthusiastic nod. You chuckle to yourself as you slowly get out of your seat and walk over to stand in front of Frankie. You lean down and place your hands on his knees, batting your eyelashes at him. One of your hands reaches up and twists the candy cane so the whole straight part disappears down your throat before it pulls it out again and you hold it out for Frankie to lick. He surprises you as he wraps his big hands around your back and hips and grabs you quickly to straddle his lap.

“Frankie!” You giggle, taken off guard, leaving your smooth, sexy facade down for a second.

“Sorry, mi vida. Needed to have my sugar fix as close as possible.”

He kisses you with such fervour it takes you a moment to kiss him back, caught off guard as you both moan into the kiss.

You pull back with a smirk and hold out the candy cane again for him to suck. He grins as he takes the sweet treat into his mouth and groans, still tasting you in his mouth from the kiss and on the candy cane.

“Mmmh delicious sweetheart, but nothing will ever taste nearly as good or as sweet as you, mi amor.”

He twists his body again and throws you back onto the couch, causing you to fall into a fit of giggles.

He grins against your skin as kisses down your jaw, creating a path down your neck and collar, down between your breasts through your shirt. He shuffles down the couch, continuing to trace his lips down your body, slowly removing every bit of clothing that gets in the way of his lips tasting your skin. You can feel his hard cock throbbing against you as he slides his way down, matching the throbbing pulse of your clit.

“Frankie…” you whine as he reaches your hips, pulling down your sweats slowly off your legs, tossing them somewhere on the floor. A devilish grin orderned on his beautiful face as he lowers his head, breathing in the scent of your arousal through your panties before biting the lacy fabric and moving them off you with his teeth. His hands are holding up your legs for better access as follows the curves of your calf. He tosses your panties to the ground and begins to plant soft kisses and bite down your raised legs all the way back down to your dripping heat.

Your face hurts from smiling as you watch Frankie show you his playful love and affection, he grins back at you and cups your face gently with one hand, to which you nuzzle into. He lowers his face back between your thighs and finally takes a firm lick up your folds, making you both moan. He has to reach down and palm himself through his uncomfortably tight jeans yet again as he sucks your clit and licks into your oozing hole, muttering to himself about how good you taste. He reaches up to grab at your wrist and pin it into the couch before trying to grasp at what you're still holding; the candy cane. He looks up at you with dark eyes when his finger plucks it from your grasp and holds it to your mouth.

You immediately suck it deep into your mouth before he can even ask. He growls before removing it from your red lips and dragging it down your body. He sucks it back into his mouth before running it back and forth through your folds, catching it deliciously on your clit every time, he watches in awe as your body shakes and squirms, telling of your impending orgasm as it reaches its peak.

“Come for me sweet girl.”

You become a babbling mess of incoherent swears as Frankie works you through your high. He fucks the candy cane into your cunt, following everwhere he traces it with his tongue, moaning at the sweet, delicious taste of you and the candy cane. He brings you to another high quickly after, enjoying another round of your sweet release hitting his tongue. Only stopping when you push his head away, pussy worn and oversensitive.

He kisses your inner thighs and works his way back up your body, licking up the sticky trail the candy cane left earlier, you grab both sides of his face and kiss him deeply, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. You pull away after a few minutes to catch your breath and bite your lip. Pupils blown wide staring at the man that you love so deep with all of your being. You knew you just had to return the favour, especially because the thought of you sucking his cock started this whole thing in the first place.

After littering his swollen lips and red face with soft kisses, you begin to sit up to change your position, pushing your hands firmly against Frankie's chest to push him back against the back of the couch before sliding down to your knees in front of him. His cock is aching, he whines a little as he watches you undo his belt and zipper, pulling his pants off in one go.

You palm him through his black boxers, the front covered in a pre-cum stain. You look up at his disheveled state through your eyelashes, your eyes blown wide with lust. He swallows harshly as you reach under the band of his underwear and pull out his hefty length. He watches you licking your lips from the last of the sweet residue coating them, your mouth watering from the salty flavor soon to be gracing your tongue.

You lean your head forward and let a big glob of spit drop onto the tip, quickly lubing him up with your hand and small slow strokes. Your lips envelope his furiously swollen tip, tongue twisting around the curves. His hand falls to your jaw, holding it softly, a plea to keep going, don't stop. His head falls, eyes squeezing shut before he forces himself to not miss anymore of the gorgeous sight of you before him on your knees.

Your other hand reaches out, playing with and lightly squeezing his balls. Your other hand tightens its grip around his girth, strokes growing faster. You pull your mouth off him, raising his cock up, so you can dip your head and lick up from the bottom of his length all the way back up to his head and through his slit. You mouth quickly attaches back onto him, sensing he is close by his mumbled praises, and his desperate “fuck”s that has you clenching your thighs together as the throbbing returns.

You turn your head to the side a bit so the tip of him is sticking out prominently through your reddened checks as you bob up and down on the tip. The sight combined with your sinful, moans causes Frankie to suddenly shoot his load into your mouth giving you little warning other than a loudly groaned “Fuck” as the salty cum fills your mouth. You make a show of swallowing till every drop is gone, licking your lips and then opening your mouth wide to show Frankie that you had indeed swallowed all it.

Through his post orgasim bliss, sweaty and heaving, he manages to reach down and give you a messy, sloppy kiss. The taste of both of your pleasures being exchanged between the both of you. You pull away and sigh deeply, letting some much needed air into your lungs, as you rest your head on his naked thigh, looking up at him lovingly. He caresses your check, affectionately. You both open your mouths at the same time to say that “you'll have to buy some more candy canes soon.” Making you both fall into a fit of laughs. It really was going to be a sweet holiday season.

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#smut #pedro pascal characters #frankie pussy eating king confirmed #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales

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