#and I’m supposed to move soon. GOOD LUCK

[hannahssimblr]

“Is that everything?” Mom’s car idles as I haul my last suitcase out of the boot and onto the pavement. The wind is frigid, slicing through the tunnel of concrete and asphalt at departures, and whipping my clothes about my body like sails.

“Yeah,” I say. “That’s it now.”

“Alright,” she says, and pauses, her face halfway turned, so I see her in profile from my place by the open boot, her sharp cheekbone silhouetted by the sunrays through the open floors of a car park.

“Right, well.”

“Yes. I better go.”

“Thanks for the lift.”

She hesitates, her chest rising and falling with a sharp breath. “I- It’s a shame you have to go,” she says eventually. “But it’s for the best.”

“Yes.”

“Call me when you land.”

“I’ll text.”

“That’s fine.”

I slam the boot shut, and she pulls away from the curb with a roar of her engine. 

“Would all passengers travelling to Berlin on flight DLH-3478 please have your boarding passes and passports ready for boarding? Flight DLH-3478 now boarding at gate 41.” 

“Welcome on board,” says a peppy flight attendant. “Can I help you find your seat?”

“No.”

I shuffle down the aisle to the sounds of sleepy murmuring from the other passengers. A combination of English and German. I find my seat and shove my bag into the overhead compartment. 

As luck would have it, I was randomly assigned a window seat. I squeeze in, my knees bent and nudging the seat in front of me. 

Next to me, an older lady, in her sixties maybe, struggles in. “Oh, goodness’ sake,” she says, in this lilting, Donegal brogue. “These seats weren’t made for tall fellas like you, were they?”

“Suppose not.” I turn my face to stare at the asphalt out the window. 

She settles in, hauling a heavy purse onto her lap, from which she unloads her reading glasses, a book with a WHSmith sticker on the cover, a BLT sandwich and a knitting project, still on the needles. 

I breathe slowly from my nose. 

“Terrible early flight, isn’t it?” She says, wiggling into her seat. 

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“I came all the way from Letterkenny. I had to get a bus at midnight. Imagine that. Took three hours overall. It’s desperate.”

“Mm.”

“Where are you coming from?”

“Clontarf. It’s like, fifteen minutes away.”

“Oh, lucky you!” She pulls down the table, but soon has to fix it back in place when the flight attendant coming to close the overhead lockers asks her to. The handbag is repacked and squeezed under the seat in front. 

She happily talks over the safety announcement. “I’m excited about this,” she whispers as the attendant demonstrates how to blow up the life vest. “I’m visiting my sister. She’s lived over in Berlin for years and years. She’s got a German husband. Gerhard, and I’d say the last time I visited, well, we were trying to figure it out together when I was on the phone with her. Was it eight years? When was… No, it was 2001…”

When the engines roar to life, and the plane begins its slow taxi across the runway, she produces a bag of sweets from her cardigan pocket. “For your ears?” she says. 

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” She rustles the bag, and I look. They’re lemon bonbons. I like those. 

“Yeah, actually, thanks,” I say, and pluck one from the packet. I haven’t yet decided if I can eat it while my stomach is so knotted up and queasy. Maybe I’ll just hold it.

“What’s bringing you to Berlin?” She says, as the plane rounds a wide corner to reveal the expanse of sky over the flat of north Dublin. 

“I’m moving, actually.”

“Oh! Wow, isn’t that exciting?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.”

“What has you going to Germany?”

“College,” I say, because it’s all I think I can say. Something is happening behind my face. I clench my fist around the lemon bonbon, sticky in my hot palm. 

“All on your own?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, well, it’s a big change, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You’ll miss your family and friends, won’t you? It’s not far, but you know how these things are. It’s never easy leaving home for the first time.”

“No.”

“You’re very brave.”

A murmuration of starlings cuts through the blue. “Mm. I suppose. I-” I break off as my voice catches. No. I think. Not here. So I blink, hard, but it can’t stop the tears coming, because they’ve been waiting, as though building behind a dam, and now at last, in the most inconvenient location on the planet, something has given. “I… um…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she produces a tissue and I take it, pinching it against the bridge of my nose while tears spill over and snot flows, my teeth bared. I can’t bear to look at her as she fusses over me, her hand stroking my sleeve. I sniff, and it’s loud, and thick, and humiliating. 

“Darling, you’ll be alright, c’mere, now, you can just let it all out.”

“Sorry.”

“No need.”

Like a mother, she murmurs vague, comforting sentiments as the tears pour, and build, and flood my vision until the view of Dublin blurs like wet paint. I sob until I think I’ll retch. The plane speeds along the runway, and lifts, and takes off into the sky, and I leave my little green island behind. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[fastandcarlos]

"Brake! Brake! Brake!" : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: putting you in the simulator was supposed to be a bit of fun for charles, but not even he could prepare himself for the terror of being spectator to this

“My love, you need two hands on the wheel,” Charles told you, standing just beside you as you tried your best to figure out what all the buttons meant, “just drive, I’ll help you with all of those and tell you when you need them.”

“Which one is the brake? I’m gonna crash!” You cried out, entering the first corner on the simulator, your heart was racing, feet tapping around as you tried to find what you were looking for.

“The wall!” Charles yelled, hiding behind his hands as he watched your car veer towards the side as you lost control, unable to concentrate too much.

The sudden feeling of a hand wrapping around your ankle showed you where the brake was as Charles moved your foot onto it. Your mind was racing as you tried to do a million and one things. Behind you, Charles tried his best to help you, but you were far too out of your depth to listen.

It was almost funny for him as he watched you, taking for granted how hard his job was.

“I give up with this, it’s stupid,” you huffed as you almost went into the gravel again, desperately trying to save your car. “I’m not built for all of this driving, can’t I quit?”

“Come on, you’re still only learning,” Charles reminded you, kneeling down so he was by your side. His smile was warm, as funny as he found it watching you, he also knew just how much you wanted to learn more about what he does, giving it a go for yourself.

You carried on battling for a few more moments, luck far from on your side, until a pair of hands hovered over yours against the steering wheel.

“We’ve got this, we’re a team,” Charles whispered as he felt you turn to face him, leaning across and helping you steer the vehicle.

As soon as Charles took a hold the whole thing felt easier, whilst he focused on navigating, you were able to accelerate and brake at just the right moment.

Somehow a few moments later you found yourself crossing the line, surprising yourself that you hadn’t forced your car into the pits to retire.

“That was amazing for a first attempt,” Charles chimed, trying his best to reassure you, “you’ll be a natural soon enough,” he added, kissing the side of your head.

With a bit of persuasion, you decided to give another track a go, reluctantly agreeing when Charles suggested giving Monaco a try. It was your home after all, surely you could remember the roads, but behind the wheel of the simulator, you confidently forgot everything.

“This time just try and worry about one thing at a time, don’t stress too much,” Charles instructed, kneeling back where he was before by your side.

You nodded as you made yourself comfortable, watching for the lights to go out to signal for you to start your race. As soon as they did you slammed your foot down, taking yourself by surprise with how quickly the car shot forwards.

A squeal came from you, a snigger coming from Charles, knowing that you were far from prepared. Your surprise left you struggling for control once again, almost forgetting that the entire track wasn’t straight.

“Brake! Brake! Brake!” A voice cried out from beside you.

Just in time your foot hit the brake, turning the car before you flew off the track. Like before, you barely made it around the track in one piece, glancing at your suffering boyfriend as soon as the race finished.

“You’re amazing at a lot of things, but I don’t think racing is one of them,” Charles joked, reaching across and taking a hold of your hand as he took it off of the steering wheel. Your head immediately nodded in agreement with Charles, it was fun to support him, but you were much better off doing that in the comfort of the paddock.

Charles loved you for trying, he loved how hard you worked to enjoy the things he loved, but even he couldn’t lie and say you were a good driver.

“I’ll leave the grand prix to you,” you laughed, stepping out of the simulator, “I think my strengths lie elsewhere.”

“I can think of a few strengths,” Charles whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly.

Your eyes rolled at the knowing expression that was on his face, but you allowed your arms to wrap around his neck anyway.

Charles closed the distance between you both, pressing a kiss against your lips. “Why do you always assume the worst of me?” Charles innocently asked, chuckling to himself as you continued to stare at him, knowing Charles all too well, knowing exactly what he was hinting at too.

“You’re impossible sometimes, you know?”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[jamminvroomvroom]

die for you.

ln x driver!reader

in which you can’t stand each other, or so you say…

this took waaaay too long for me to hate it sm but she’s here! and she’s long! love this concept so much, thank you for this request. so many feels so many vibes, tell me what you think <3

loosely inspired by die for you by the weeknd

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, slight glimpses of she fell first, he fell harder, rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, choking, hate sex? bar fight, mentions of blood

8.3k words (oop)

it’s rare that you miss a podium, so when you do, it tastes bitter and stings like a bitch.

the car has been on fire all season long, a thing of beauty in your calculated hands. so, the string of bad luck you’re enduring, small mistakes with big consequences, it’s quite the pill to swallow.

out of the car you jump, teeth grinding hard out of frustration. you could see the commotion ahead of you, members of the papaya team celebrating their driver. your eyes roll so hard in your head that you feel a lasting ache. you side step members of your team, dodging every single person that tries to talk to you, your comms officer knowing better than to try and engage with you. you know you’re being unreasonable, it was a p5 finish! but it isn’t a podium or a win, so quite frankly, you aren’t interested, and you certainly don’t have any energy left to hear how amazingly well he had driven.

lando fucking norris.

what was once quiet disdain had grown into fully fledged hatred and you fear you’ll be violently sick if you catch a single glimpse of him on the podium. sure, he’s talented, and sure, he’s beautiful, you suppose. that doesn’t mean you have to like him. not anymore. he lives under your skin, inescapable.

you struggle through every interview in the media pen, most of which dissect your recent fall from grace, your mouth forming a hard, unimpressed line every time they mention the orange goblin and his recent streak of podiums and good luck. you wish the journos would bring up his string of women and the probable plan b receipts that went with them. that, you would love to talk about.

you drive in silence back to your hotel, leaving the track as soon as possible, and quickly find solace in your bed for the night. the idea of seeing the inside of a club makes you nauseous after your epic downfall. as your eyes are drooping, your body going limp under the thick duvet, a knock sounds from the door.

“no.” you shout flatly, but the only response you get are giggles from the hallway. for fuck sake, you mutter, groaning as you shift out from beneath the covers and trail apprehensively towards the door.

george and alex appear before you, and you throw your head back is exasperation.

“mate, it’s 9:30.” alex laughs, taking in your fancy attire; pyjamas that you’ve had since you were 17.

“what’s your point?” you croak, glaring up at your obnoxiously tall friend.

“why aren’t you getting ready to go out?” george questions, leaning against the doorframe. he, too, was obnoxiously tall, you thought, feeling the strain in your neck as you move your glare onto him.

“if it wasn’t obvious, i’m not going.” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “i thought that was clear after i ignored all 77 of your texts.” you smile sarcastically, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

“don’t be boring! you’re an f1 driver, you’re in a cool city, you’re rich and, let’s face it,” he sasses. “you need to get laid.” alex says, like it’s the most causal thing in the world. your eyes bulge out of your head at the utterance of the last bit. george bites back laughter.

“choosing to ignore that.” you hiss. “i’m sorry but i refuse to go out and celebrate that arrogant, whiny little bitch.”

they both know exactly who you’re talking about.

you and lando have simply never seen eye to eye. your karting days were spent pushing one another off the track or into a muddy puddle if things got a bit heated out of the car. sure, olive branches were extended, and maybe adolescent feelings were secretly harboured, but he never gave you any reason to tell him that. you’d grown out of the childish violence when you graduated into formula 1, but you hadn’t been able to shake the rage he made you feel.

it didn’t matter how many dinners you attended where others had conspired and forced you to sit next to each other. it didn’t matter how many times you turned up to play padel and were met with the same lame excuses of ‘oh, did we not mention lando would be here?’ it didn’t matter how many times you’d hugged it out on the podium while adrenaline and tensions were running high.

it didn’t matter how many times he’d watched you from across a crowded room and you’d found his eyes, watched him back. it didn’t matter how many times he’d smirked at you at the start of a race weekend, made you blush. and it certainly didn’t matter what happened last time you found yourself in a club with him.

you just don’t like him. not anymore. you sleep better at night when you lie to yourself.

~ the last time

you sink shot after shot, cocktail after cocktail; the taste of fruity liquor stains your lips and burns your throat. you feel electric, sizzling with ecstasy and the heat from the flashing lights above your head.

it’s approaching 4am and you can’t recall a time in your life where you’d felt so fucking good. the high of your first win is indescribable.

you’ve lost track of the guys, alex and george have packed it in and gone back to their hotels with their girlfriends. pierre and kika are somewhere in a corner, you’re certain. you’re pretty sure you’ve even seen lewis with his entourage and a brick wall of a bodyguard trailing behind him. and at the bar, a set of eyes watch you.

lando isn’t even listening to oscar anymore, no. he is too entranced in the way your hips move to the beat, lost in the carefree lines your body makes in the crowd. he’s itching to go to you, put his hands in places that would stay between you, him, and god, but he doesn’t think a broken nose would be good for business.

everything changes when you spin around, facing his direction. then, it begins: the same thing that happens every time you end up going out in the same group. you watch one another, pretending you’re not both achingly desperate to find out how the other tastes.

but lando is feeling bold. he tells oscar he’ll see him in the morning, and then, egged on by a moscow mule and a few too many shots, he makes his way towards you. it is instinctual, magnetic, the way he is drawn to you.

hands on your hips, lips on your neck. the song changes. you recognise the weeknd’s voice. you are disappointed in yourself but it feels too good to stop.

you know what i’m thinkin', see it in your eyes
you hate that you want me, hate it when you cry
you’re scared to be lonely, 'specially in the night
i’m scared that i’ll miss you, happens every time

the lyrics sober you up. you’re in the first taxi you can see when you finally get outside.

alone.

~

as much as that memory makes you shiver, for several different reasons, you find yourself putting on some makeup and raking through your suitcase for something to wear. george and alex are waiting downstairs for you at the bar, and when you finally make your way down there, they have a martini waiting for you. they watch in impressed horror as the alcohol disappears from the glass mere seconds after it touches your lips.

“let’s get this over with.” you sigh.

-

it could have been worse, you suppose.

the club is packed, hundreds of faces blurring into nothing. you feel better knowing that there is a one in a million chance of running into lando.

you’re tucked into a booth with alex and george, carmen and lily, a few faces you can’t quite place, and charles and pierre. you’d conspired to sit on the outside, prepared to make a quick getaway at the first sign of tension.

you’d been in a state of fight or flight since your last run in, nails bitten down every time you thought about his hands on you, how good they felt on you. it scared you more than anything had in a long time, how your desire had festered.

you go to take a swig from your glass, only to find it empty, aside from a few sad ice cubes. you watch jealously as they melt into nothing, wishing they would take you with them, shoving your glass across the smooth table top when your frustration boils over.

you’re on edge, ridiculously afraid of bumping into a curly haired man. it wasn’t him you were scared of, per-say, more yourself. god knows what you’d do if you felt those warm, calloused hands pulling your hips into his again.

“you okay?” pierre calls across the table. he and charles abandon their conversation as soon as your glass goes flying towards their side of the table. you’re broken out of your trance, caught off guard like a deer in headlights.

“tired.” you reply, shrugging it off like it was nothing. it’s clear immediately that they don’t buy it.

“she’s hiding.” alex chimes in from beside you, and your elbow goes straight into his ribs. he feigns pain for a moment, cackling at your reaction.

“from who?” charles inquires. you roll your eyes, blush spreading down your neck already. you hate everything about the conversation, and yet you need to see where it goes. you’d planned your escape, and now was the opportune time to make it, but you seem to be glued to the leather of the booth.

“lando.” george smirks into his drink as a he speaks, wiggles his eyebrows.

“oh yeah, we know all about that.” pierre laughs, his head tipping back in amusement.

“what?” you spit, eyes wide with confusion.

“don’t think me and kika didn’t see you two before the summer break. that night you won? we thought you’d finally cave.” pierre explains, his grin conveying pure evil.

several “what?!”’s sound from around the table, and now all eyes are on you.

“nothing even happened.” you mumble. “he came over to me and then i left.” you look away, twisting your hair around your finger. you are sweating.

“you looked like you were minutes away from being arrested for public indecency.” pierre smirks. you almost launch yourself across the table, intent on strangling him, and then perhaps throwing yourself in front of an oncoming uber outside.

“well, well, well. i fucking knew it.” alex is giggling beside you.

“come on guys, leave the poor girl alone.” lily winks at you, but even she has a twinkle in her eye. “there’s obviously feelings there.” and just like that she betrays you. her sympathetic smile doesn’t make you forgive her.

“i think you guys just need to get it out of your system,” charles starts, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “just fuck.” he waves his hand, like it was the most causal thing in the world.

the table erupts in laughter and you decide that you are well past the end of your tether. you shake your head, declaring that you need another drink, or ten, and strut away from the table. a chorus of ‘love you’-s and ‘get some’-s sound from behind you. you reply simply by raising your middle finger and refusing to look back.

the bar is in sight, just about in your reach when your evening goes from mildly bad to aggressively worse.

“fuck sake.” you sigh.

“and good evening to you too.” lando replies. he’s blocking your path, materialising before you out of nowhere.

“get out of my way, lan.” it sounds like you’re pleading and you cringe internally.

“don’t you wanna congratulate me?” he feigns a pout and you almost swing for him.

“no, not particularly.” you say dryly. “all i want is a drink, so if you’d just…” you gesture for him to move. of course, he doesn’t.

“haven’t seen you in a while, though. thought maybe you’d missed me.” he takes a step closer; goosebumps litter your bare skin.

“you are such an entitled prick.” you spit, moving to step around him but he catches you, gripping your wrists and pulling you in. you feel heat radiating off of him, expensive cologne overwhelming you in the best possible way.

“and you, honey, are such a fucking brat. but you don’t hear me complaining, do you?” lando whispers, cool breath hitting your face, minty, laced with champagne and cockiness. you almost fold, thighs clenching so tight that he must have noticed.

“move.” you grumble through gritted teeth. you are crumbling painfully, embarrassingly fast.

“make me.” your underwear is damp, but you are fuming.

“don’t fucking test me, lando.” something in your chest sets on fire and you’re over him and his bullshit, and the way he makes you feel.

“i know you want me.” he dips his forehead down to rest gently against yours. his grip on your wrists tightens, thumbs swirling circles into the flesh, right where your pulse is.

you lean in, mere centimetres separating your lips. his eyes darken, the assumption of victory over you tugs his lips into a smirk.

“all i want is my fucking drink. come find me when you’ve managed to navigate your gigantic, stupid head out of your arse.” you catch him off guard, wriggling out of his grip. you’re shaking when you walk away, thoughts of doing things with him that would get you both fired invading your foggy brain.

you try to disappear into the crowd, finally breathe a sigh of relief when your hands meet the cool surface of the bar. you order your drink, putting it on your tab and drum your nails against the marble top. you’re lost in your own world, watching as concoctions are mixed, as shots are downed. you finally feel at ease, until your evening takes yet another turn, one that was somehow even more unfortunate than all the others.

your attention is rudely stolen by the guy stood next to you.

“can i get that for you?” the random man speaks, in a way that he must of assumed was smooth. slimy, you think. he’s gesturing to your drink, clearly having watched you add it to your bill already.

“no, thank you. it’s already paid for.” you smile politely, turning on your heel. it seems he wasn’t quite done with you. you feel a clammy hand tug on yours, a wave of sickness washes over you.

lando’s hands are bigger, warmer, softer.

“where are you rushing off to, babe?” the sweaty man asks, his tone fake in a way that makes you uneasy.

“i need to get back to my friends.” you try to pull your hand free, but he won’t budge. “can you let go-“

“i can show you a good time. always thought you were kinda hot.” you’re panicking now, looking every which way for a familiar face, a security guard, anyone.

“take your hands off of me.” you snap, still wrestling to pull yourself free.

“one night with me would pull you out of that little slump you’re in.” he leers. you visibly gag, white hot rage blurs your vision.

“okay you piece of shi-“ you snarl, interrupted by a flash of curls and tanned skin.

“she told you to let go.” lando stands in front of you protectively, rigid and furious. you’ve never been so happy to see his annoying(ly beautiful) face.

“and what are you gonna do?”

“hands. off.” lando stands up even straighter, looking bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

“okay, mate, whatever.” the stranger rolls his eyes, shoves your hand away.

lando turns to you, opening his mouth to speak when…

“keep that stuck up bitch all to yourself.”

and then, everything goes to shit.

lando whips around, fists are flying, the stranger topples to the ground, amassed to nothing in the face of the mclaren drivers rage. lando doesn’t stop there, makes sure he is sufficiently dealt with, flat on his back on the sticky floor. you don’t know what to do, calling out for lando, begging him to stop, as satisfied as you are. lando hears your shouts, pulled out of the chaos and back to you. always back to you.

“are you okay?” he has his hands on your face searching for any remaining fear or upset. a crowd has formed and you see alex and george towering above the other club goers, jaws agape.

it’s as if he dj has it out for you, and you realise that the song has changed to something moodier, slower, one that gives you whiplash.

even though we're going through it
and it makes you feel alone
just know that i would die for you
baby, i would die for you

“we need to get out of here. security are coming.” you mutter, keening into his touch.

“i have a car outside.”

“well, let’s use it then.”

-

you can’t help but stroke over his knuckles mindlessly in the car, an unlikely comfortable silence settling between you. they look raw, cracked slightly and you have an overwhelming desire to kiss them better. your head is fuzzy, and you’re unsettled with confusion, but at the same time, you feel lighter.

“why did you do that?” you murmur, disrupting the quiet that has settled over the backseat of the town car, the question burning desperately on your tongue.

lando turns his head so that he’s looking down at you, his good hand comes up to cup your jaw softly.

“no one can talk to you like that.” he’s staring so deeply into your eyes and you almost squirm at the intensity. you feel exposed, bare.

“but why did you step in before that?” you reiterate shakily. lando hums in understanding.

“i’ve known you since we were 10 years old. i know when you’re scared.” he whispers, breath dusting your cheeks. you almost lean in, then, something about his words pull you even closer towards him. you feel warmth creeping over your chest, sinking into the pit of your belly.

“we’ve arrived.” the driver calls from the front, signalling that you need to get out of the car. it was like an elastic band had snapped, and you spring away from lando, scrambling to undo your seat belt, the moment of weakness long gone.

you sneak into the lobby, on the lookout for any angry PR teams or incognito photographers that are scoping for their next pay check. the coast seems clear, so you manage to scurry discreetly into the elevator. you hit the button for the third floor.

“can you hit the button for five?” lando asks, leaning against the opposite wall.

“you’re coming to my room.” you state, offering no other explanation, even when he raises his eyebrows.

the ding of the lift has lando pushing himself off of the mirrored wall, trailing behind you into the corridor. the lights are low as he follows you to your door, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. he watches in anticipation as you rifle through your small bag for your keycard. the green light gives you the go ahead to open the door, and he awkwardly follows you inside, peering around the room.

you notice the slight apprehension in his features, eyes blown wide from alcohol and adrenaline. they seem to sparkle more than you’d seen in a while, a hazel-y blue twisting with secrets and unspoken thoughts.

“let me find my first aid kit.” you tell him. you guide him towards the foot of your bed, gesture for him to sit. “make yourself comfortable.”

“you don’t need to do this.” lando replies, sitting down anyway.

“and you didn’t need to get between me and that dickhead but here we are.”

your words elicit a low chuckle from him, and you’re glad you have your back to him while you dig through your suitcase. he can’t see your smile at the wholesome sound, and he doesn’t need to.

random pieces of clothing fall out of the bag as you rummage through it, your attention taken up completely by your mission to find the small box. you don’t notice the pile of garments littering the floor.

“wow, didn’t take you for that kinda girl.” lando teases. your cheeks flame red when you catch sight of the cherry red thong that has managed to get caught in the wheel of your suitcase.

“shut up, i’m helping you.” you grumble, balling up the lace and burying it at the bottom of the case.

“why is it ferrari coloured? something you wanna tell me? do you think charles is… foxy? or is it fred? oh, i bet it’s fred, isn’t it.” he’s laughing now, loud and boisterous, and if it wasn’t for the butterflies erupting in your belly at the sound, you would have throttled him.

“i’ll leave you to bleed out.” you tease back, pointing at the dried up blood across his knuckles.

“of course, i am in urgent need of medical attention!” he exclaims sarcastically, clutching his hand. you roll your eyes.

“you know where the door is.” you stand from the floor, carrying a little square antiseptic wipe with you.

“yeah, i do. feel like staying now, though. i’m just so comfy.”

and with that, he throws himself back on your bed, closing his eyes as he sinks into the mattress.

you stare at him for a second, noticing the way his eyelashes dust the tops of his cheeks, his tanned, thick neck peeks out from in between the undone buttons of his dress shirt. you exhale shakily, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

“give me your hand.” you instruct him, tearing the packet open and unfolding the wipe.

“romantic.” lando snarks. you shove his shoulder in response. he holds his hand out.

“whatever.” you sigh, avoiding eye contact as you run the wipe over his knuckles. you can see how they are already tinged purple, wincing at the idea that it is your fault.

“what is it?” lando asks, noticing.

you don’t respond. this proximity is odd, you can’t quite tell yet if you like it. what you do know is that you certainly don’t know how to handle him now that the alcohol is wearing off and you’re left tending to the wounds of a man that you could have sworn you didn’t like.

“so that’s how it’s gonna be? we’re going back to the silent treatment again?” lando scoffs.

“don’t know what to say.” you mutter, keeping your eyes trained on every line and indent of his knuckles.

“why do you hate me so much?”

“i don’t.”

“yes, you do.” he scoffs.

“i don’t think about you enough to hate you.” you lie. it’s cruel. he winces.

that shuts him up.

“i’m gonna go. thanks for this.” lando waves his hand and you feel a wave of guilt hit.

“no, fuck, i’m sorry.” you apologise, bowing your head. “stay.”

“i’ll stay if you tell me why you hate me.”

“i’ve never hated you, lan. haven’t always particularly liked you but i never, ever hated you.”

“okay.”

that’s all it takes for him to flop back onto the bed. some unexplainable instinct that you loathe has you crawling onto the bed beside him. you wrap your arms around your pillow, watching him watch you.

“i used to have such a big crush on you, you know.” lando says. you stare at him blankly.

“what?”

“yep. i think i was about 15. you were the first girl i ever really liked that way.” he smiles, recalling the memory. “it kinda sucked because i knew you wouldn’t even look at me twice but it’s funny thinking back to that time.”

~ 15

he watches the way her hair gets caught in the breeze as she takes off her helmet. two messy braids are shaken free, and his heart skips a beat or two, or seven, when she turns around with the biggest grin on her face.

she’s just won a race, another one, and he’d be so jealous if it wasn’t her.

he thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. george and alex go over to her, congratulating her, hugging her. he wishes he could do that. he definitely can’t.

she doesn’t see him, the only times that she does are when they argue, when they push eachother off the track and scream at one another across a gravel trap. the times when she plants her pointed finger in his chest and calls him dirty, the times he gets heated and calls her something he doesn’t mean under his breath. and she always hears him. always. he watches her eyes pool with tears every single time.

he wants her, in a way he’s never wanted anyone before. he’s never felt like this, wonders how he can make it go away. she hates him. she must.

he can never have her, so why even try?

~

“i had no idea you ever felt that way.” you’re quite shocked, really. you knew that you had this intensely charged sexual tension between you now, but you had failed to realise how far back this all went.

mutually, at least.

“i’d say i’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it.” his smile changes slightly. it was now a sad smile, one that conveys disappointment in himself, and that you hated to see. it reminds you of the one you’ve gotten used to seeing on your social media feed after he’d had a shitty race.

you sigh, bracing yourself for what you are about to say.

“you’re not the only one who hid it.” you raise an eyebrow, your face says ‘guilty!’

“no?” lando’s eyes widen at your revelation.

“i think we were 13. you gave me half a cookie to apologise for pushing me off track.” you smile coyly. “it’s kinda sad but 13 year old me died inside.” you laugh.

“so, we’ve both… liked each other.” lando assesses. you nod.

“when did you stop?” you inquire, scanning his face. you take in each detail, each individual freckle, the curve of his lips. he seems closer, all of the sudden, and that’s when you realise you’ve closed the space between you. lando is within reach now, it would have been so, so incredibly easy to shift even closer still; it was like you were in his gravitational field, reeled in by pretty, pretty eyes.

“who said i stopped?”

“oh.” you breathe.

~ 13

he snaps the crumbly biscuit between his fingers, trails towards her awkwardly. he feels bad, feels a strange pang in his chest that he doesn’t recognise.

he finds her around the back of her parents car, arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched, pouting hard. he thinks she’s cute.

“why are you here?” she whines.

“this is for you. i know it doesn’t make up for the race. i didn’t mean to take you out, i swear.”

he sounds panicked, sincere. her tummy turns funny.

he’s holding out a cookie, the children’s equivalent of an olive branch.

her face softens. she accepts it. they bite into their cookies at the same time.

it’s not the worst day in the world anymore.

~

messy kisses and soft whispers lull you to sleep.

his nose bumps yours every time your lips meet, gentle and plush.

you feel delicate in his arms, treasured. his lips press gently to your hairline. he’s different, softer than you’ve seen him since you were teenagers splitting cookies.

it’s the easiest thing in the world to curl into his side, mould together until you’re part of him, and drift off.

-

the heat wakes you up.

you stir, eyes fluttering open, searching for the source of the onslaught of warmth. it clicks quickly, and you realise that you hadn’t dreamt the events of the night before.

lando is in your bed.

lando had protected you.

lando had wanted you since you were stupid kids who didn’t know any better.

he is the heater that had woken you up, and suddenly you don’t care that you’re far too hot. you curl back into his side, head rests on his chest. it rises and falls softly, his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear. you are jealous of how pretty he looks when he’s asleep, relaxed and infatuating. you lose track of time, gazing up at him.

a sharp pain in your side makes you groan. you had fallen asleep in your dress, lando in his jeans and his shirt, and now you’re paying for it, your fingers searching for the zipper that was now digging into your side. your movements draw him out of his slumber, and when you look back at him, he’s watching you, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“you okay?” lando croaks, his voice deep and sleepy. it sends shockwaves through you.

“mhm. how did you sleep?” you ask, mindlessly running your hand over his jaw like it was the most natural thing in the world. a smile breaks out across his face, eyes fluttering shut once more.

“really fucking well.” he laughs, almost in disbelief.

“yeah, me too.” you smile at him, shy.

“what’s bothering you?”

“well, a human heater woke me up and now this fucking zipper is killing me.” you joke. it’s weird that this doesn’t feel weird.

“i am pretty hot i guess.”

“yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes and stand from the bed.

lando sits up, resting on his elbows. his eyes follow you as you walk around the room. you take a bottle of water, drinking half of it before passing it to him. his lips wrap around the bottle and you have to turn away, the ache between your legs that you’d been fighting for months rearing it’s irritating head. you clear your throat, composing yourself.

“need to get this dress off.”

lando pulls himself off of the mattress, stalking towards you. you stop in your tracks and he meets you at the foot of the bed. his hands find your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin in little circles, and then kisses you deeper than he did last night.

it’s impossible not to melt into him, hands running over his chest, his shoulders, and finally finding solace tangled in his curls. if someone told you the morning before that you’d wake up in lando’s arms, you would have cackled, urged them to seek medical attention, and probably spat in their face. how things change.

“i think you should keep it on, look so pretty.” lando breathes, staring down at you. you blush hard, leaning into him.

“but i’m uncomfortable.” you grin coyly. and then, a surge of confidence has you whispering: “i’ll let you take it off if you want.”

“let me make you comfortable first.” lando murmurs, dipping his head down until it rests in the crook of your neck. “want me to get you nice and comfortable, baby?” he kisses up your neck.

you cave, finally.

it takes him all of thirty seconds to have you spread out on his face, laying himself down on the mattress and pulling you on top of him so that you’re hovering over his lips. he mouthes at your panties for a second, getting his first taste of you, and then he drags them to the side, clearing a path. his tongue laves over your cunt, groaning as soon as he gets a proper taste.

your dress fans out over your thighs, and lando has disappeared beneath the fabric. you can tell he’s there, though, by the strong hands gripping onto your thighs, the tuft of curls peeking out, and the feeling of his nose bumping your clit as he buries his face deeper and deeper between your folds.

“lando.” you cry, throwing your head back. the straps of your dress are slipping down your arms, skimming your goosebump ridden skin. he just groans into your pussy in response, pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth, backwards and forwards until you’re grinding down on his willing tongue. you reach down blindly, grabbing one of his hands where it rests on your thigh, and your other threads through his hair, gripping tight as you revel in the pleasure.

lando pulls your clit between his teeth, grazing over the bud and you’re jolting, writhing above him. you feel like you’re going to die, heat pricking all over your skin, your tummy tight from the building orgasm. he’s so eager, sliding his entire face through your slippery folds, obscene sounds falling from his lips that ricochet through your quivering body.

tears prick your eyes when you finally let go, slumping forwards from the overwhelming sensation taking over every single nerve. he lifts you off of him, laying you back on the bed as you come down from your high.

“you okay, baby?” he coos, brushing sweat dampened hair from your eyes.

his lips are stained, dark pink and shiny, a mixture of enthusiasm and your slick coating them. lando scans your watery eyes, feral at how fucked out you look all because of him, and tantalisingly licks his lips.

“need you.” you moan, reaching out for him. his shirt is wrinkled where he’d slept in it and your shaky hands find the few buttons that are actually done up. you push the material off of his shoulders, pupils blown wide at the sight of his toned chest, at the feel of smooth, golden skin. you pull him in by the shoulders, swallowing him whole as you kiss him with everything you’ve got left.

lando’s hands find your thighs once more, running his hands over them to push your dress up your hips.

“wanted this for so long.” he whispers into the kiss, pulling away so that he can take the dress off of you. he looks ravenous the more he pushes the fabric up your body.

you feel vulnerable under his intense gaze, watchful eyes taking in every movement you make. you try to pull him back in for another kiss but he resists.

“let me look at you, please?” lando asks. “there you go, baby, let’s get this off, hmm?” he sits you up so that he can get it over your head, and you lay back, bare aside from your panties that he’d left in disarray.

he sucks in a breath, raking his eyes over the curve of your lips, your collarbone, the slope of your breasts. his gaze lingers there for just a second, before continuing further over your belly, the length of your legs. you want to hide away, pull him in so that he can’t look at you like this, or just dive under the duvet and stay there until you need to catch your flight.

“god, you’re so, so fucking beautiful.” he gasps, awestruck. he sounds speechless, and you feel yourself going red again.

“come here.” you whine. “needed you for so long.”

your admission seems to kick him into action, because seconds later, he’s on top of you, fingers grazing the band of your underwear while you fiddle with the button on his jeans.

“gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” lando stares you down, tone sending a shiver down your spine. you nod, batting your eyelashes. “words, my love.”

“yes, lando.” you affirm, arching into him. that’s all he needs to know, kicking his jeans away, boxers too.

“good girl. took care of me so well last night, now ‘m gonna take such good care of you.”

your eyes skim his body, honing in on how hard he is. your hand finds his cock, tentative at first, stroking over it softly. it’s heavy in your hands, red and dripping already. he wants this just as bad as you do. you continue to jerk him off, watching the way his eyes squeeze shut and his lips part, soft pants falling out. a low hum sounds from the back of his throat, and you wet your lips, threading your free hand through his hair.

lando opens his eyes at the sensation, gently batting your hand away. he dips down even closer, resting on one of his forearms. he lines himself up and your legs wrap around him instinctively. slowly, he pushes inside of you, his breath catching in his throat.

“fucking hell.” he groans, deep and guttural, something carnal sending shockwaves through his body. “been dreaming about all the ways i’d get to fuck you.”

your eyes roll back and you go languid in his arms, feeling every inch of him slide against your slick walls.

“want you.” you rasp, clinging to him, your fingernails leaving patterns between his taut shoulder blades as you beg for it.

“you have me, baby.” and then he kisses you, messy and slow, stealing the air from your lungs. you’re dizzy when he pulls away, sitting back slightly to change the angle. you cry out, feeling him even deeper and everything is more sensitive, warm. you roll your hips, meeting his thrusts deliciously, and he chokes out a moan as you clamp around him. “yeah, that’s it. fuck yourself like that for me.” he encourages.

this is all too much, too good. you have whiplash, physically and emotionally, eyes pooling with tears as the man you’d wanted so badly that you hated him for it rocks into you. lando hits the right spot every time he pistons his hips harder, and his nimble fingers slide up your abdomen, applying light pressure to your navel that makes you writhe.

“fucking perfect for me. gorgeous.” lando slurs, entranced by the sight of where you’re joined. he can see just how wet you are and it drives him insane, barrelling into you like a man possessed, drunk on every single way that your body responds to him.

his wandering hand finds your breast, kneading it before he traces your nipple. he watches the way it hardens at his manipulation, wetting his lips. he collapses back on top of you, sucking the bud into his mouth. you’re panting, whining beneath him as his tongue swirls over your chest, switching to the other side. you jolt, a silent scream scratching your throat when he slips his hand between your thighs, working your clit with the pad of his thumb. he’s rutting against you, grinding deeper, faster, uncontrollably.

“come on, baby. you’re so close, so tight for me.” he mutters into your skin. you nod frantically, your words lost on you. he kisses over your collarbone, the base of your throat, until he finds your lips.

“so close.” you sigh.

he stops.

“tell me you’re all mine.” lando growls, his entire demeanour changing. the tone of his voice almost finishes you off but you’re suddenly enraged. you’re too close for him to stop.

“c’mon lando.” you hiss, trying to move your hips but he has you firmly in place.

“need to hear you say it.” his hand slithers over your chest, finding a new home at the base of your throat. it makes you throb, the way his thick fingers wrap around you. slowly, his grip tightens, and you see an opportunity.

you buck your hips hard, whimpering at the sensation, but your plan works and now you hover over him. he’s still buried inside you, and you can feel him pulsing as you steal control.

“for once in your life, honey, shut the fuck up.” you smirk, mischievous in victory.

slowly, you build up your rhythm. he feels bigger like this, deeper, and you almost lose yourself in the small circles you make with your hips.

“knew you’d be like this. you liked giving yourself to me but i just knew you’d need to take back control.” lando teases. his hand is back around your neck, squeezing slowly, and you grind frantically, dizzy for him. “i was right last night, wasn’t i, baby? pretending to be my good girl when really,” he pulls you down so that you’re chest to chest. “you’re just a fucking brat.”

lando holds you close as he fucks up into you, feeling the way you go limp on top of him as the pleasure washes over you like a million electric shocks. you’re crying, tears pooling on his chest, because there is nothing you can do, nothing you want to do, but take it. he’s got you right where he wants you, and you’re loving every fucking second of it.

“yeah, baby, take it how you want it.” lando commands through gritted teeth, and you move your hips in a feeble attempt to match his speed. everything is slippery, everything feels wet and flushed.

the power play, the position, the frenzy he seems to be in as he fucks you, it all has you gushing, spilling all over him. you choke out a sob, shuddering as the elastic band in your belly snaps. lando stops his thrusts, replacing them with small rolls of his hips to help you through your orgasm.

a sharp breath and a string of curses from him give you the strength to muster the last little bits of energy you have left to look up at him. you pull your head up off of his chest just in time to watch him shatter into a million little pieces.

his neck flexes as his head rolls back, sinking into the pillow, his eyes tight. swollen lips part and your name falls from between them like a prayer. you can feel him filling you up, his hands tightening their hold on your hips like he’s scared to let go, like the world will stop if he does.

the world stops anyway, because then you’re looking at each other. really looking at each other.

it only takes a second for you to be drawn in and his hands leave your hips to cup your face. his calloused hands feel your skin, stroking over rosy patches on your cheeks. it’s deathly silent all around you, apart from the breathless pants you share.

swollen lips crash hard into yours and you melt. he’s still buried so deeply inside of you, your hips digging into his, impossibly close. you’re blindly reaching for any part of him you can get your hands on, and his big hands slide down your body until they meet the small of your back. ever so carefully, he flips you onto your back, easing your spent body into the mattress.

lando collapses on top of you, mouthes at your neck for a moment, delicate kisses making your eyes flutter shut. the eye contact almost sends you into cardiac arrest as he pulls out, oh so slowly. tease.

he holds you close in the shower, fingers massaging every part of you. sex and sweat are washed away, almost lovingly. you let the water run for far too long, content in clinging to him. it’s quiet, reflective time for both of you, exactly what it needs to be. you’re both hung up on questions that need to be asked, neither one of you brave enough to take the first steps. you know one thing, and one thing only: something has changed, in a forever kind of way.

your hair is stringy, half dry, and you’re stood in your underwear. your legs are still shaky.

“your flight soon?” lando asks. he’s stood in his boxers on the other side of the room, scrunching the water out of his curls.

“yeah.” your throat feels raw.

“and you’re going back to monaco?” he’s stopped what he’s doing now, staring at you. you can see the cogs turning behind his eyes.

you nod.

“fancy a sleepover?” he grins, boyish and careless. your heart falls to your feet.

you’re giggling when he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you into the freshly made bed. the sheets are on the floor by the time you finally remember you have a flight to catch.

you’re his now, you realise. he’s too beautiful for his own damn good.

-

“baby?” you hear lando call from his bedroom. you make out the faint sound of his footsteps making their way in your direction. he appears before you can even answer him, and he’s smiling softly at the sight of you bundled up in a blanket, sprawled across his couch.

“what is it?” you ask. the next thing you know he’s on top of you, peppering kisses over every single inch of skin he can get to on your face. “hey, get off, muppet.” you whine playfully, ruffling his hair.

“do you know how much i love having you here?” he murmurs. it’s endearing as fuck and you fight a foolish, dopey grin.

“you’ve mentioned once or twice…” you’ve been here since your flight touched down a week ago. you haven’t even been home to get clothes, not that you needed them in his company.

“we might have a teeny, tiny issue.” he squints, pulling a face.

“and what’s that?” you ask, your voice measuring equal parts cautious and amused.

“so, alex called…”

“oh, shit.”

“we have to go to dinner tonight.”

“we have to?”

“he’s suspicious as fuck. you do realise they’ve been plotting for us to happen for years,” you roll your eyes as if you say duh. “and also, you’ve been in monaco for a week and haven’t seen him once. oh, and also, the last time we saw them, we were running away from a fucking crime scene.” lando smiles sarcastically, and you sigh, defeated.

before you can reply, your phone is ringing somewhere beside you. you root around in your blanket searching for it and when you find it:

“son of a bitch.” you exclaim, showing lando the caller ID. alex is one persistent motherfucker.

“hey girl.” alex singsongs down the phone before you can even say hello.

“hello to you too.” you can hear the fear in your own voice.

“dinner. tonight. although, i’m sure lando already told you.” alex teases.

“why would lando have told me? what?” you choke. lando slaps his hand over his face. your voice has gone up several octaves. not suspicious at all.

“so, you’re at home? you haven’t been at his place since last week?” the playful interrogation begins.

“why would i be with lando?” you try and feign disgust at the implication. it does not work.

“because you hate fucked after he beat up that perv? i have to say, i didn’t think he had it in him but he’s been in love with you since he was like, ten, so, you know-”

“bye alex.”’

“you’re not denying it-“

“bye alex!”

you’re flaming red when you throw the phone to the other end of the sofa. lando, as on brand as ever, is cackling into a pillow.

“he is such a fucking shit stirrer.” you bury your face in your hands, slumping back into the fuzzy cushions.

“well, he’s right about one thing.” lando trails off. suddenly he’s looking anywhere but you and you see him gulp, hard, swallowing his words, like he’s too afraid to bare his soul.

“huh?” you ask gently, sitting up to reach out for him. “what’s wrong?”

“we need to get ready for dinner. that’s what he’s right about.” lando says, standing from the sofa and walking towards his room. you’re suspicious, watching him go with furrowed eyebrows.

-

“lando, behave! you’re the one making me go to this dinner.” you squeal, batting his restless hands away.

you’ve made it as far as the elevator before he pounces on you, caging you in against the metal walls.

“but you look so good, can’t help myself.” he mutters between kisses on your neck, pressing himself even further into you.

the hand that finds it’s way between your legs, exploring beyond the hem of your skirt, is the one that makes you press the button for his floor. why have plans when you can have sex?

he gets through the door to his apartment at lighting speed and carries you all the way to his bed.

when you’re sweating and breathless a good hour later, half of the bedding on the floor with your clothes, you realise you never cancelled your plans.

lando is drawing shapes into the bare skin of your arm, kissing over your shoulder as he does so. his eyes are dropping from all of the over-exertion and you want to count each and every freckle on his face while he falls asleep. he’s cute like this, soft and yours.

and idea comes to your mind, and as if he can see the lightbulb, lando half raises an eyebrow at you. you giggle, somewhat evilly perhaps, and scramble for your phone on the beside table.

“what’re you doing?” lando groans, pouting as his outstretched arms try to find you.

“getting even.” you state.

with the phone in your clutches, you roll back over towards him, holding the camera above you both. he hears the shutter sound as you snap the picture, and peers closer to see the screen. when he sees the groupchat open, he quickly understands what you’re plotting.

“may i?” you ask for his consent.

“are you kidding? go for it. that’ll shut them up.” he laughs sleepily, muttering something about how this is the most lando thing you’ve ever done

FROM: you

TO: the groupchat

1 image attached

couldn’t make dinner. something came up xx

“alex always thinks he’s right, this’ll teach him for being such a little shit.” you flop back into bed even more satisfied than you were before.

you hear lando inhale shakily beside you.

“he is right sometimes you know.” he repeats his earlier words.

you hold your breath. his eyes say so many things that are too delicate to be spoken yet.

“like… like what he said on the phone?” your voice quivers with anticipation, fear. your heart is thunderous, hammering away like it wants to escape the clutches of its cage.

“yeah. i-“ he stops himself. you don’t need him to finish, you know which two words follow. they can follow in good time, you both know it.

“me too, lando.” you coo.

he’s beaming, eyes half shut. you watch as he falls asleep, the both of you ignoring the way your phones are vibrating so aggressively that they might buzz their way off of the night stand. you lose count of his freckles, but it doesn’t matter.

you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out.

-

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[papaya-twinks]

just an assistant - l.n

Warnings: Angst, smut, 18+ blowjob, swearing, praise

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - this is a little short but the next part is gonna be really long.

To say you were bewildered was pretty much an understatement. 

You’d just been fingered…by your boss. And not just any old guy, he was Lando Norris. World class F1 driver? And what were you supposed to do now? Flirt with him? Return the favour? God, it was so confusing. 

You ended up taking the next day off under the guise of illness (though you were pretty sure Lando knew why you had decided to take it off) in order to think. You were lying on your stomach against the plush mattress of your bed of your own apartment, when your phone rang. 

Weird, you thought you put it on silent. And then you saw it. Lando’s name flashed up onto the screen, your eyes widening with a mix of panic and shock. Do you answer it? Would he question why you were on your phone if you were ‘sick’?

You were overthinking it, surely. “Hello,” you said, your voice wavering as you answered the phone, holding it close to your ear. “Y/N,” Lando said, as you checked the time, realising it was around 3pm in Hungary. 

“What’s up?” you said, steadying your voice as you spoke through the speaker, your words slowing down to make sense. So he’d done qualifying, surely, right? “You need to come back. Not soon, now,” he said, his voice demanding. 

Jesus was it that bad?

“Um, okay, I’ll be round yours in a bit,” you mumbled, hanging up as you stood up, choosing a simple black dress as you made your way round his. Now you were confused. Lando had qualified first, with Oscar behind him, why did he sound pissed?

“God, finally,” Lando groaned as you walked into his hotel room. He was pacing the room, but he finally stopped when he saw you, his eyes set on your face in both annoyance and relief. “You called?” you said, not sure what to say, 

“No, really?” he said, voice laced with sarcasm. Ouch. This wasn’t the voice of a man who had his finger knuckle-deep in you last night. “You qualified first,” you said, almost making it sound like a suggestion. 

“Damn right I did,” Lando said, his voice husky and annoyed as he slumped into a chair, “and I’m gonna fuck it up, as always,”. No. Way. Lando had called you here for emotional support? This was crazy. 

“Don’t say that,” you frowned, piping up from where you were standing in the doorway, clutching your little handbag. “Sit down,” Lando said, voice monotonous. You realised he hadn’t actually looked you in the eye since you arrived - or rather, since last night, but you made nothing of it. 

“I always mess it up, Y/N, I’m starting to think Miami was just pure luck,” he sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Miami was a show of talent, not luck,” you said, raising a brow at his words. Lando also seemed shocked, not expecting such a compliment from you, after he’d been horrid. 

Wow, he needed to give you a raise or something. Or maybe another little reward, besides, your sounded good moaning his name when he had his- 

“You deserved the win,” Lando’s thoughts were cut off by your firm statement, the belief in your voice making him recoil internally. He’d been way too harsh on you in the past. “Thanks,” he muttered under his breath, still not looking you in the eye.

“Look, about last night…” Lando started, realising he needed to break the tension in the room. “It’s fine,” you said coolly. Shit. Did you say it too fast? Too eagerly? You could see the cogs moving in Lando’s brain as he tried to figure out your answer, deciphering how you’d said it. 

Did you not want what he had done? Did you not enjoy it? Had he hurt you?

Hundreds of questions flooded his mind as he fiddled with the ring adorning his finger. “Right,” he said slowly, “didn’t want to overstep any boundaries or anything,” Lando added. Like he hadn’t already. “It felt good, but it’s…it’s fine,” you added, not all too sure what ‘fine’ meant. Pleasurable? Maybe. 

“I…good, okay,” Lando said with a slow nod, looking into your eyes for the first time in a while. It was almost like you let go of a breath you didn’t even realise you were holding. “I guess I owe you one…for fixing that date, I guess,” you weren’t quite sure where this newfound confidence came from. 

“Not really,” Lando said, “it doesn’t matter,”. A relationship with your boss. Well, the media would make you out to be a slut. You’d always been seen as less than Lando for being his assistant. You’d seem like you just wanted some dick to ride. Now it was Lando’s turn to watch the cogs in your head turn. 

“The media doesn’t need to know,” Lando said, “it’s not like I’m just gonna ring up some media company and tell them I fingered my assistant,”. The way he said it sent a tingle up your spine. How relaxed he was when he said it. Fingered my assistant. My. You. 

You were his assistant. “Good,” was all you said. There was a pause between the two of you, the tension so intense you could cut it with a knife. Fucking hell. The things you’d do to just get on your knees and take whatever he wanted to gave you. “For fucks’ sake,” Lando muttered under his breath, “stop it,”.

“What?” you said, cocking your head as you looked up to him. Oh, but he wasn’t talking to you, was he? More himself. And the weeks of suppressed feelings he had pushed down deep into the forbidden places of his mind, but now they were too deep. Reaching darker places, and settling in more than he felt comfortable with. 

Why were you so damn hot? And gorgeous, and pretty and just…everything?

He hadn’t even realised you’d moved to stand in front of him til you pulled his joggers down, his attention snapping to you. “Jesus, Y/N, what are you doing?” he said, watching your hand come to the base of his cock, your finger gliding across the vein on the underside as he groaned. 

“Returning the favour,” you said simply. “You really don’t, fuck, you really don’t need to,” Lando groaned as you slid your lips over his length, your tongue flicking to his sensitive head. Fuck he was so gorgeous. It was bigger than you’d imagined (yes, you’d imagined it), stretching right to the back of your throat and more as he bunched a hand in your hair. 

“Fucking hell, I could get used to this,” Lando said, the words coming out almost involuntarily. You could get used to it too, though. “Oh fuck, Y/N, fuck,” Lando said, bucking his hips the smallest amount as you felt the pressure build up between his legs. 

“Oh Y/N, fuck you’re so good,” Lando moaned as his hips jutted, pulling your lips from him as his cum spilled onto your cheek in thick ropes. “God, yes,” he gasped, head thrown back, cheeks flushed and eyes closed. 

This was going to be very interesting.

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | s. changbin <3

a/n: finally posting the next skz soulmate au !! i loved writing for sweet baby angel changbin :,,,-) i'm really in my skz feels these days, so hopefully i can write more soulmate aus soon <333 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.6k | warnings: none! | pairing: soulmate!changbin x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

every month, you send a package to your soulmate, knowing only your names before you meet.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“changbin?” chan called from outside the bedroom, “are you ready yet?”

changbin, half-dressed and digging through his closet, answered, “almost!”

chan peeked his head inside, tilting it in confusion, “is something wrong?”

“it doesn’t fit.”

“what doesn’t fit?”

“the new shirt i ordered. i could’ve sworn i ordered it in my usual size…ugh!”

“oh that sucks, but…can’t you just wear another shirt?”

changbin groaned, “yeah, sure, i can. the whole point was to wear that shirt today.”

hyunjin appeared in the doorway, “do you need help picking out an outfit?”

chan explained the vague situation to hyunjin, and, during that time, changbin settled for a plain black t-shirt and denim jacket that matched his jeans. the car arrived to pick them up, so, with a final loud groan, changbin grabbed his favorite necklace from his dresser and headed out for the day.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

as soon as you opened your eyes, you checked your phone to confirm today’s date. earlier that month, your soulmate, whom you only knew as “changbin,” sent you a custom t-shirt in the mail. when you unfolded the shirt, a cute handwritten note slipped out, telling you that it needed to be worn on a specific date because i’ll be wearing one just like it. it’ll be a long workday for me, so knowing that we’re matching will give me the strength to do well! please take a picture, so, one day, i can see how cute you look~~ thank you for being my good luck charm, my love <3

rolling out of bed, you smiled. you had never heard changbin’s voice, but you imagined he always had a bright tone. his messages were always so sweet. even if he sent you a glamorous gift, you cherished the handwritten note more than anything. 

with your outfit completed, photo taken, and your mood at an all-time high, you decided to make the most of your day off. hoping the soulmate airwaves connected you, you thought let’s have a good day today, changbin! i’m rooting for you! as you stepped out your front door.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚  

“all right,” chan sighed, stretching his arms, “i say we move onto the next track, yeah?”

jisung agreed, so changbin checked to see which song they needed to record next, “let’s see…ah, it’s jisung’s song, ‘volcano…’” changbin’s tone dropped, but he spoke again quickly, “who’s up first?”

changbin made a mental note to apologize to jisung later. it wasn’t jisung’s fault that they were recording the song he wrote about his soulmate on the one day when changbin ruined his attempt to have a cute moment with his soulmate. chan, sensing the shift in changbin’s energy, suggested they take a break. even the members who weren’t in a sour mood enthusiastically agreed, all shuffling out of the studio for some fresh air.  

“changbin-hyung!” felix chirped, “want to walk with me? i could use some company!”

changbin couldn’t resist the smile that formed on his face. even in his worst mood, felix’s sunshine demeanor would win him over. as they walked, they chatted about the new animation felix was obsessed with, with felix re-enacting the most interesting parts. changbin’s shoulders relaxed, and he was grateful that the evening air and felix’s voice were so healing. standing at the edge of a slightly crowded street, changbin thought that maybe the bad day was behind him.

“what’s been on your mind today?” felix asked.

“it’s going to sound so stupid.”

felix shook his head, “no way! if it upset you, then it’s not stupid.”

“okay,” changbin sighed, “today, i was supposed to wear this one shirt, but i guess i didn’t pay attention and ordered it in the wrong size. normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but i sent y/n the same shirt. we were supposed to be matching today…kind of like a good luck charm.”

felix frowned, “i’m sorry. it never feels good when a plan doesn’t work out, especially an exciting one!” felix paused, and then grinned as brightly as he could, “you’re wearing the necklace y/n got you though! you’ve been doing great in the studio today, so that must be working like a lucky charm, right?”

“yeah, probably. it’s just…” changbin frowned, “hearing jisung’s song made me feel even worse. i’m so happy jisung met his person, but i can’t help that i’m jealous. i see how much better he feels on his bad days after he talks to his partner, and it hurts to know that i can only talk to y/n once a month through handwritten notes. it’s beautiful, and i love every word they share, but on days like today, it feels like it’s not enough…”

changbin’s voice trailed off, turning his head toward the opposite side of the street. maybe people-watching strangers could counteract the tears forming in his eyes.

felix rubbed changbin’s shoulder, “it’s okay to feel sad. i know you’ll meet y/n when the time is right, but that doesn’t make it any better in the present moment. maybe you can write out your monthly message to them tonight, if that would help?”

felix glanced over at changbin when he didn’t hear a reply after a minute or so, “changbin? are you with me?”

changbin stared down the street, captivated by someone wearing the exact shirt he was supposed to be wearing today. though his heart was racing, he doubted it was real. he had to be imagining it since he was thinking about you all day, right?

your eyes searched the crowd in front of you, as you were unable to shake the feeling that someone was looking right at you. you slowed your steps, scanning every face to find one you recognized. you were about to give up, but then a familiar necklace caught your eye. everything stopped when you met the gaze of the person wearing it. 

it felt too good to be true. how could you just run into your soulmate on a random evening, in an area you’d only been to once or twice before? besides, he wasn’t wearing the same shirt as you, which he had planned. but that necklace looked exactly like the one you gifted changbin for his birthday. even as you doubted yourself, looking at the man in front of you gave you the feeling that he was the one you had been searching for all along.

you waved at him and asked, “changbin?”

you knew you were correct the second he started giggling and jumping up and down. you laughed, every cell inside you bursting with joy because there he is!

“changbin? what’re you…” felix followed changbin’s gaze, “oh my god! is that y/n?”

felix deciphered a yes!!! amidst all of changbin’s excited noises, so he nudged changbin, “stop waving and go say ‘hello’!”

changbin bounded towards you, unable to stop his smile from growing bigger and bigger as the distance between you two finally disappeared.

“y/n! i’m so sorry i’m not wearing the shirt! i messed up and ordered the wrong size!”

you giggled at the pout that formed on his face, despite the look of pure joy in his eyes, “it’s okay, changbin! you look cute! besides, that would explain why this one isn’t in my usual size.”

“really?” changbin felt relieved, “so i didn’t mess up as badly as i thought?”

“no, not at all,” you shook your head, overwhelmed by the cuteness of changbin, your soulmate, “i can switch with you–since you must have mine in your closet–so we can match next time!”

changbin shook his head, “no way. you look way too cute in that for me to give you a different one.”

“should we share it then?” you joked.

“why shouldn’t we? we’re sharing the rest of our lives, aren’t we?”

you felt heat rush to your face at his words, bringing yet another giggle to changbin’s lips. you heard someone call his name with the news that they had to leave in a few minutes, which prompted changbin to get your contact information. the smile never left his face, even when he started to say goodbye. in his mind, nothing was more exciting than the fact that tonight, he could finally ask you how was your day, my love?

“i’ll talk to you later then, yeah?” you beamed.

“yes, please! i’m so sorry i have to leave right now, but i promise i’ll make it up to you.”

“i do not doubt that, changbin.”

you waved, watching him walk in the direction he came from. after a few steps, he turned around to look at you again.

“what’re you smiling so much for?” you giggled.

“i guess you really are my good luck charm today, y/n.”

you felt butterflies swarm inside you as your laughs mixed, filling the crowded street with pure joy and endless possibilities.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[coryosbaby]

Warning: stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), sex, & pervy behavior

Stepbrother! Rafe being completely obsessed with bimbo! reader <3 He always brings her little gifts. Subtle things, that no one ever really notices, such as a new lip gloss from her favorite brand or a set of diamond earrings with tiny Rs imbedded into them. He tells her to keep secret, and of course why wouldn’t she? He’s her favorite person, after all. He’s the sweetest boy ever.

She’s completely clueless to the way he looks at her curved form when she bends over, or the way some of her panties mysteriously disappear from the laundry. Doesn’t even notice the way his hand disappears into his pants whenever her back is turned to him when they’re alone.

One night she sneaks into his room and wakes him up with apologies spilling past her soft lips. It’s storming.

“‘M sorry. I just- I’m scared, Rafe.”

And when it sinks in that she’s scared of the storms, Rafe is quick to guide her into his arms and wipe away her tears with gentle fingers.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos. “Baby, it’s just a storm. It’s not supposed to get bad.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

And he cages her in with his big arms, let’s her fall asleep against his chest.

If either of their parents notice, they don’t say anything the next morning.

It becomes a routine, after that, for her to sleep in Rafe’s bed. It’s better in there, she thinks, softer, and warmer, and.. Rafe is there. Anything is good if Rafe is there.

Because with Rafe, she feels safe. No matter what, he’ll always be there to protect her from the things that scare her the most.

She slips in beside him quietly, on this particular night. Rain softly patters against the window. Not enough to scare her, but she misses Rafe’s warmth. He has no shirt on when she moves next to him, just a pair of gray boxers. She softly brings her head to rest on his shoulder as she slides under his comforter. He groans, sleepily, and then his eyes peel open as he looks at her with a crooked smile.

“Hi, sweet girl.”

“Did I wake you up?”

“You did,” he laughs, moving a piece of her hair out of her face. “But I don’t mind. C’mere.”

He brings her closer to him, her hands moving to rest on his bare torso.

“You’re practically freezing, baby,” Rafe coos, as he rubs his hands up and down her shoulders. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

“Didn’t wanna bother you..”

“You could never bother me.” Rafe replies. He caresses her hip with a soft, gentle stroke. “But why don’t you give me a kiss, hm? To make it up to me.”

The suggestion has her face setting ablaze. Of course, Rafe is incredibly handsome. She’s always thought so. His offer makes her have a nervous fluttery feeling in her tummy. But she wants to be good for him, so she lifts herself up and land a soft peck on his lips. He smiles, happy, and rubs his thumb over her bottom lip.

“Why don’t you do it one more time, sweetness? You know, for luck.”

She grins, a giggle leaving her lips. And then she’s shyly kissing him again.

This time it’s different. His mouth stays on hers longer, and he gently guides the back of her head to accompany the turning of his own. He moves against her, slow and messy, as her eyes flutter shut and she begins to sloppily leave spit against his plump lips. She moans, hands threading into the boy’s hair with a neediness she didn’t know she had. Soon his tongue is joining the mix, soft and wet in the open canal of her mouth. When she finally pulls away, it’s because Rafe grasps her hair and pulls her away from him. She looks at him with longing, and his other hand goes down to grope her ass. She gasps, a small whine leaving her throat.

“Rafe.. mom and dad-”

“Don’t have to know,” he finishes. He gently grabs her thigh and throws it over his waist so she’s straddling him. She nervously look down at him. “I won’t tell, I promise. Just let me have you tonight.” He looks up at her, pleadingly.

“Please, angel?”

[ennabear]

I'm begging you to write about mean!abby and reader finding a kitten in one of the buildings, Abby not letting her save the kitten but reader cries all night so Abby HAS to go back and get the kitten...

a/n: plsss this is so cute 😭 thanks for the request baby ilysm and i may or may not have written too much about this 🤗💗💗

daily click / boycott tlou / help these families evacuate / free palestine

abby wasn’t mean necessarily, just very strict. she knew you even better than the back of her hand, and she liked that you depended on her for everything.

hungry? ask abby to make something for you. tired? good, it’s almost your bedtime, don’t want you being cranky in the morning. can’t reach something? better go get abby to grab it for you.

so when you saw that poor kitten while walking back to your apartment, you knew you had to ask her for it. it started with you just hearing a few pleading mewls before turning around and seeing it toddling toward you.

“aww, abs, look! it’s a little kitten!” your smile growing. you were met with a cold “hmm.” from abby. “can we take it home?” you asked. “absolutely not. we don’t have room for an animal.” it was partially true. your apartment wasn’t huge, but it was a comfortable size, and you were moving soon anyways.

ignoring her, you picked it up and continued strolling beside her, cooing at it’s small size and adorable face. “did you not hear me? i said put it back.” she snapped. “don’t call it an ‘it’, abs. i think it’s a girl.”

she glared at you, unamused. “now.” you walked over to a small corner and placed her down, giving her a final pet as your eyes welled up. even if you couldn’t keep her, you at least hoped you’d see her again. maybe it would become a neighborhood cat that everybody mutually loved, everyone except abby.

you didn’t talk to her the rest of the walk home, which was short, or even meet her gaze. although you understood that she only ever tried to look out for you, sometimes she was too strict. you went to bed that night without even returning a kiss, too angry at her, too worried about the poor kitten all alone outside. scared, cold, hungry.

these thoughts continued to plague your mind, eventually causing tears to collect. you hid your face in abby’s chest and sniffled, trying not to start sobbing. “baby?” she asked, “are you alright?”

“abs… that poor kitty. it doesn’t even have a family.” you were crying now. “w-what if it gets too cold, or it gets h-hit by a car.”

abby frowned at your words. “it won’t, honey. it’s already survived this long, it can go a few more nights before someone else picks it up.”

“but it’s n-not supposed to survive on its own. someone probably left it there to die.” you were sobbing, too.

“well, we’re not taking it home. i’m sorry, hate me all you want but we don’t have time or space for a pet.” you didn’t understand how she could be so mean. you cried even harder at this, hoping, praying the cute little guy survives. you cried into her chest until eventually, sleep took you.

abby had other plans. she didn’t know you’d instantly get so attached to that cat, and she hated that now you were crying because of her. she only wanted to do what was best for you, but there was no winning this battle.

once she was sure you were asleep, she slid her shoes back on and headed outside, hoping it was stills there, even more that there was only one. to her luck, the kitten was still there, instantly jumping up and waddling toward her. it’s meows seeming louder than earlier, like it recognized her or something.

she picked it up with two hands, trying not to hold it too close in case she changes her mind about wanting to keep it. slowly, she tiptoed back inside, trying her hardest not to wake you.

her fingers raced to ask google every question she had about caring for it. things like what to feed a baby kitten or where to get kitten milk replacer or how do baby cats stay warm at night? after finding what she needed, she put the kitten in an old shoebox and carried it out to the car.

surprisingly, the kitten didn’t seem to hate the drive, it was mostly just excited to be out of a big, scary parking lot. she put the car in park, and swore to herself that she would take no longer than 10 minutes in the store.

12 minutes later, she’s back with a syringe, a tin of kitten milk replacer, a heating pad, a litter box, and a water bowl. the kitten peeks up at her after she opens it just to check in. it meows and tries to grab her hand, but she closes it too quickly and drives back home.

when you wake up, you’re surprised to see that abby is still in bed with you. usually she’s at the gym, or if not, she’s definitely started her day by this time. with hands on her sides, you roll her over to cuddle with you. “abs,” you whisper into her neck, “why are you still here?”

“i had a long night.” she responded. “and i’m sorry i made you cry, i promise the cat will be fine.”

you completely ignored the second part, “long night? no you didn’t.” how could she have had a long night? she was in bed with you the whole time, right?

“go look on the kitchen table, silly girl.” so you did. you yawned and put on your slippers, making your way out of the bedroom.

on the kitchen counter you found an old shoebox, a heating pad with a temperature remote attached to it, a soft hand towel, and a sleeping gray kitten.

tears threatened to spill again as you felt abby’s arms wrap around you, her head snuggling into your neck and whispering “surprise.”

[beenbaanbuun]

sick w/ addams!matz

whilst i’m busy writing part two to opposites attract, here is just some silly fluffy stuff!!

——————————————

you’re sick. flu, by the feel of it. with your heavy head, sniffly nose and permanent fatigue, there’s very little else it could be. it’s unfortunate, but nothing you couldn’t deal with by yourself. a few days bed rest and you’ll be fine.

your lovers don’t quite agree. all it took was for the word ‘fever’ to leave your lips and suddenly all hell broke loose. you should’ve known that the second you brought it up to seonghwa it would be blown entirely out of proportion. the man is level headed about a lot of things; you are not one of them.

it had been a military operation with him the second the word ‘fever’ dropped from your lips. for three days now, you’ve been under strict instruction to not leave their bed, trapped there like a prisoner with hongjoong watching over you like a hawk. if you step a toe out of line, you get a sharp slap to the back of your thigh and a quick scolding. its hardly enough to keep you in check, especially when your regular punishments are so much heavier, but hongjoong is also under his husbands strict instructions to be as gentle with you as humanly possible.

it’s boring.

of course, you love talking with hongjoong when he has the time to join you in bed, but he still has to work. laying for hours at a time just staring at the back of your daddy’s head as he writes letters to his clients is nothing short of dull. he expects you to stay silent so he can concentrate on what he’s writing. you thought it to be a silly rule until you disobeyed on the first day and he moved himself and his work to the armchair out in the hallway; he could still listen in for any sign of you trying to escape the confines of their bed, but he could finally get enough peace and quiet to concentrate on his work. those few hours were so boring that you quickly made the decision that you could manage silence for a few hours if it meant that you weren’t alone.

sometimes seonghwa would come and visit you in the room, although with you being sick, you found that he had far less free time than usual. in between working in the greenhouse and cooking up cold remedies in the kitchen, he found that he actually got to spend very little time by your side. he trusted hongjoong to follow his very specific instructions on how to take care of you (make sure you’re drinking fluids, make sure you’re always warm, replace the cloth on your head every 1-2 hours) but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be more active in your care routine himself.

its the morning of the 3rd day than seonghwa finds his wish coming to fruition, and unfortunately his time being stretched even thinner. of course, he doesn’t blame hongjoong for having to leave the house for work—antiquities don’t source themselves, after all—but he can’t help but feel a little stressed with the notion of adding ‘caring for darling’ onto his already long list of tasks. from what he’s heard from hongjoong, you still like to push your luck even when your head feels like a furnace and you’re coughing your lungs up. he hardly has the time to guard you like hongjoong does, so as he tucks your still sleeping body into the almost empty bed, he decides that he’ll just have to hope that maybe today you’ll see sense and behave. it’s a long shot, but he’ll just have to trust you for today.

ten minutes later, he finds that trust being broken when he hears a bump from the bedroom. he sighs, closing his eyes in frustration as the sound of a door creaking open echos through the house. the slapping of bare feet against a slick wooden floor soon follows and before he knows it, you’re coming down the stairs. it’s a good job that seonghwa isn’t an angry person, finding it an ugly emotion that doesn’t reflect well on anyone. you’d be in for a hellish day otherwise.

‘you’re supposed to stay in bed, little lamb,’ he hums as you show your face in the door to his greenhouse. you look wide eyed and bewildered, your brain still clearly muddled by sleep. it’s cute, and he finds himself smiling though his annoyance. you hobble towards him wrapped in the black knitted bedspread he’d lay over you not moments before, and he finds himself unable to control the chuckle that bubbles up within him. he lays the watering can down on the table and spreads his arms for you to topple into. ‘tell me why you’re flaunting my rules so carelessly, darling.’

you bask in his warmth for just a second, feeling safe and happy in his lithe arms. he’s so much gentler with you than hongjoong is; even when you’re sick your daddy likes to manhandle you to be exactly where he wants. it’s not like you’re complaining, though. you like the way it makes you feel when he treats you so helplessly.

‘woke up alone,’ you mutter into seonghwa’s chest. the lace of his blouse was scratchy against your too-hot face, but you can’t seem to pull yourself away from him. you just want him close, even if you have to sacrifice your comfort for the sake of it. ‘hongjoong wasn’t there and you weren’t there and i’m lonely.’

any frustration that resided within seonghwa slowly melts away with your confession. you’re just too sweet for him to stay upset with, especially when you’re so dopey and reliant on them.

‘hongjoong had to work, lamb; your daddy can’t stay at home all the time,’ soft fingers lace themselves into your hair, gently petting you like you’re some sort of kitten. he supposes you do rather look like one when you’re wearing your collar. you’re just so sweet and submissive when you sit by seonghwa’s feet at he puts it on for you. it’s a shame you’re too sick for that right now, your skin too sensitive and the collar too tickly; it would only serve to irritate you. ‘and you know that i have to work as well. i have to take care of the house, the plants and cook an unheavenly amount of chicken noodle soup for you. i wish i could stay in bed with you, but i can’t.’

and you understand, of course you do, but that doesn’t mean you’re happy with it. you want hongjoong to be home, and you want seonghwa to have less to do. you want to be stuffed between them from the moment you wake up to the moment you sleep, doted on and cared for by your two lovers. the notion of that not being possible just doesn’t seem to compute in your fever-addled brain. you whimper into seonghwa’s chest.

‘oh, my precious little lamb,’ he coos, resting his chin on top of your head, ‘hongjoong will be home in a few hours, and i’m sure i can take a short break from my errands at some point. it’s hardly like you’re going to be alone for long.’

‘take a break now,’ you insist, ‘just for a little while…’

it’s a trap, seonghwa knows that. the moment he crawls back into bed with you, you’ll find some way of making him stay there until hongjoong gets home. either you’ll crawl onto him and refuse to let him go, or you’ll use your adorable charm to manipulate him into staying with you. still, he can’t find himself able to say no to you. he hums in agreement and pulls away from you slightly.

‘okay, little lamb,’ your face lights up and he grins. even with your sweaty forehead and slightly grey skin, he can’t help but think you’re the prettiest creature to walk the earth, ‘lead the way.’

[literaila]

megumi's demon dogs cuddling with reader and satoru gets jealous 🤭

“you’re just doing this on purpose.”

“leave us alone, satoru. or better yet, go get us a snack. i think there’s some jerky in the pantry.”

satoru sighs and walks to the kitchen counter, where megumi is attempting to write a report. “megumi,” satoru says, his voice trying to be rough. “release them.”

megumi doesn’t even look at him. “why? they’re playing.”

“they’re stealing my wife.”

“we’re not married!” you call, and resume cooing at the dog on your lap.

“megumi, im lost without her. i might die. don’t you want to help me?”

“not really.”

satoru scoffs, leaning against the counter, on top of megumi’s papers. “i’m the reason you have them, you know.”

“i don’t use your shadows for summoning,” megumi retorts, trying to push him off.

“why not? they’re probably better than everyone else’s.”

“i don’t trust you.”

satoru remains where he is, pouting.

“satoru,” you call, from the couch, “let megumi do his homework.”

“yeah, satoru,” megumi says, pulling his hair.

“it’s papa to you.”

megumi mimes throwing up. then he pinches satoru’s ear, which is evil and who knows who taught him that? (you did).

“go away, gojo.”

“they’re probably tired,” satoru whispers. “you should give them a break.”

“don’t!” you say, laughing when one of them licks your face.

satoru watches, a devastating frown on his face.

“you’re so sweet,” you’re telling them, in a voice satoru doesn’t think he��s ever heard you use. “how’d you get so sweet?”

if satoru was a dog, his tail would probably wag at just the sound of your voice too.

he’s never wanted to hurt an animal more.

“hey,” megumi pokes satoru’s cheek. “can you move?”

“not until you give me my wife back.”

“she’s just petting them.”

“she’s neglecting me.”

“if you grow some fur, i’ll pet you too,” you tell satoru, still not paying any attention to him.

“what about my beautiful skin?”

“meh. overrated.”

“just say you hate me.”

you roll your eyes but you still haven’t looked at satoru, or smiled at him, or told him that you love him today.

how is he supposed to go on like this? the kids were trouble enough. now he has to fight two dogs?

“megumi, what if i give you—“

“i told you to stop bribing the children,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “i already told him, yes i did,” you say to the dogs, voice full of fake sympathy.

“i don’t want your money anyway.”

“how about my love and affection?”

megumi raises an eyebrow, his face far too amused for satoru’s liking.

“tsumiki would never treat me like this.”

“you can go pick her up,” you tell him. “just say that you missed her. she’ll probably be fine with you dragging her away from her friends because you’re jealous and lonely. most teenagers wouldn’t mind that.”

megumi laughs.

“i don’t deserve this.” satoru stands up, huffing at both of you, and walking down the hall towards his room. “i’m gonna find a home where im appreciated.”

you coo again. “good luck! ask them to send us some snacks.”

satoru groans, leaning against the wall.

“can we really send him away?” megumi asks you as soon as he thinks satoru is gone.

“mmm,” you pretend to think about it. “it’d be a hard sell.”

“i can make the posters.”

at that, satoru turns right around, bursting back into the room with a scoff. but before anyone can say anything, he walks over to where you are on the couch and falls on your lap.

“ugh, satoru,” you say, groaning as you adjust to his body weight on yours.

“you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

you roll your eyes, but resume your petting—this time it’s satoru at your will, though. he basically purrs into your touch. “i knew it was too good to be true.”

“should i still make that ad or…”

satoru throws a pillow at him in retaliation and you just shake your head. but it doesn’t seem to matter who you’re petting, as long as there’s someone there.

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - “one bed plot(they’re on an investigation or vacation but something happens and they need/have to share a bed)”

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, sleeping at a haunted house, reader being scared,, kissing, fingering, hand job, oral (m rec), unprotected sex, sensual filth

Disclaimer: I made up everything in this story, this is NOT a storyline to one of their videos.

This was supposed to be a snippet, but I got a little carried away..let me know if you want a part two for the first part of this one shot.. I haven’t wrote anything spooky in a while and this sparked something in me. Enjoy!

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You were kidding yourself when you actually thought you were going to get some sleep tonight.

Being in the Maz-Lin Hotel was enough to scare you just by looking at the outside of it, from in your car.

Throughout the night, you swore you kept getting touched and tugged on. You even thought you heard things being whispered to you - It was just downright scary.

So, that’s why you were relieved when the third room they booked to stay in couldn’t be used, so that meant you got to stay with one of the boys, but Sam is who you were going for.

Luckily, it wasn’t awkward because you’ve both shared a twin bed as kids before, but only back then, you didn’t feel what you feel right now for Sam.

“See you guys in the morning.” Colby waves, holding his camera towards you as you all walk into your rooms.

Sam flips the light on as you walk in. “I honestly think we got the better room.” Sam turns to look at you then down into the camera in his hands, “Ha ha. Fuck you, Colby.”

He looks up at you and his upside smile makes you blush so hard you wanted to hate him, but you could never, no matter what.

“So, which side of the bed is yours, y/n?” Sam asks as he shrugs off his jean jacket to replace it with a hoodie, “Doesn’t matter to me.”

You point, “Right is fine with me.” You walk over and sit down, back facing Sam, “So, is this one of the most haunted rooms?” You gesture around the room with your hand.

Sam nods as he walks over do the dresser on your side, placing one camera on the stand facing towards you, “The third room that I was going to be staying in, is considered the most haunted of the three.”

“I would definitely take that as a sign.” You look at him laughing slightly and he shrugs, “Yeah. We can call it luck.” His eyes flick from your eyes to your lips, “I guess.”

There’s a few moments to where you can just feel the tension moving between your bodies.

“So..” you sigh, leaning back, “Colby is the closest to the most haunted room?” You ask, turning to watch as Sam sets up the second camera, angling it towards the door, “Yes ma’am.”

Sam laughs and you look into the camera that’s facing you, flicking it off, “Ha ha. Fuck you, Colby.”

Sam laughs and walks over to sit down. You smile and let out a sigh, “You’re going to record the whole night, right?” You stand up, walking over to bend down in front of the camera. You bend down, laughing at the thought of the up close shot, “You’ll need to cut that.”

Sam smirks and nods, “Yeah, okay.” He laughs and watches as you walk over, “Are these good to turn off?”

You point to the light switch and look at Sam. He gives you a nod and as soon as you flipped the switch down you booked it back, leaping into the bed with a strained yell, “I’m scared!”

Your body collides with Sam’s and his arms go around you, “Oh my god, hey.” He laughs, “you’re fine.” You laugh and as you sit up and kick your legs under the covers, Sam shakes his head, “We’re putting that in the intro.”

He turns around, patting the pillow with his hand before he lays down, “Show people how scary this place really is.”

You roll your eyes, rolling away with your back towards him, “You hate me.” You jokingly pout.

“Hey now, none of that.” He pokes your spine and you laugh, “Goodnight, don’t let the ghost bugs bite.” Sam laughs at your response, “Good one. Goodnight.”

You wanted to shimmy back into Sam, not only because you were scared, but more because you missed being this close to him.

You guys are really close friends, you’re just scared that it’ll eventually end up with comments being flooded with, where is y/n? Or where is Sam?

The thought of it hurt you in a way you know you don’t want to experience.

You managed to fall sleep for maybe an hour, before you’re awoken to something brushing over your head.

You stayed still for a moment before reaching up. You thought maybe it was Sam’s hand, but no, nothing was there.

You look around, squinting in a half sleepy haze then lay back down. Inching a bit closer to Sam. You feel your heart race as you feel his body stir, hoping he throws his arm over you, something.

But he doesn’t. He rolls over, hood pulled up over his head and his back facing you. You let out a quiet sigh, nudging your head against the pillow and you try to fall asleep again.

Another hour goes by and it was dreadful. You kept tossing and turning every so often. Your body kept tensing up with every little sound, creek and groan of the old building.

You checked your watch and it was two thirty, and if you had to admit, you hated being awake at 3 A.M. You text Colby off your watch, You still alive and well over there?

You rest your hands down, waiting for a response, which surprisingly comes through quickly. You lift your watch, reading the text from Colby, Alive yes, well.. ask me again in the morning. There’s crazy noises happening next door.

You swipe at the little screen on your wrist, The only thing I can hear over here is Sam’s snoring.

You look over at him and watch as he rolls over to face you. Your eyes stay focused on his face, watching him get comfortable in the dim glow from the moonlight creeping in.

You suck in a sharp gasp, jolting backwards the second Sam opens his eyes. You slide your arm up, laying your hand over his face, “Don’t ever do that to me again.” You whisper, covering your mouth so your laughing isn’t loud.

He smirks and chuckles lowly, “Hello to you, too.” He checks his watch and lets out a sigh, “it’s almost three.” He covers his face, yawning into his palms before he looks over at you.

He nudged his head against his pillow, “That why you’re awake?”

You nod, “Ever since I started filming these with you guys, I’ve been waking up at exactly two thirty every night.”

He pushes his hood from his face, mainly to get a better look at you. His voice is a whisper, just like yours has been, “it’s either that or three right on the dot.” You hear a noise, sitting up slightly as your head whips to the left, “What was that?”

Sam lays a hand on your leg under the blanket, “I’m not sure.” You wait a few more seconds, trying to hear it again, but nothing happens.

You lay back down, telling him how you texted Colby to check in on him. He pulls his watch up and the glow from the small square screen lights up his face.

He still had that sleepy look, which just made you want him more. He bends his arm, tucking his hand under his cheek, “Are you scared?”

Your laugh is quiet, “Me? Scared?” You pause and look at him, “Yeah, very much so.” He nods, “Yeah, I could tell for the last hour.”

“You were snoring.” You argue and he laughs, “Not when you kept moving.. which was.. mm..” he smirks, knowing him fucking with you is getting under your skin, but you allow it.

“Okay, okay.” You whisper, smirking as you shake your head, “My Apologies, Sir.” Sam nods, “Uh huh. Thats right.” You smile, rolling your eyes and the quiet banter quickly gets cut off by something falling off the desk and rolling across the floor.

“Sam.” You whisper, every muscle in your body frozen.

His eyes move to yours, “Hmm?”

You look at him, “I don’t like this anymore.” You laugh slightly and he pouts, “Aww, are you tapping out?” You scoff, “Please. I’d rather just lay here under the covers until daylight than get up and turn the lights on in the dark.”

Sam smirks and rolls onto his back. He raises his hand slightly, motioning for his chest, “Well, come here then.”

You didn’t hesitate. You moved closer to him and laid down. Your chest presses against his side, your hand on his chest, forehead pressing against his neck.

Sam’s cheek rests against your head and he lays his hand on top of yours. His other hand tucks the blanket under you, the rests it on your back, “Better?”

You against him, “Much.”

He chuckles and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Try and sleep.” You sigh against his neck, “I’m not tired now.”

Sam nods, “Yeah, same.”

“Oh, when I woke up the first time, something was like-“ You sit up, reaching up to demonstrate what you felt, “I thought it was your hand, like scratching my head, but no.”

“That’s actually fucking scary.” Sam laughs nervously as he pulls his hood down, “Fuck.” You laugh, “Sorry, I thought you’d like to know that.”

He nods, “Oh yeah, no. A hundred percent yes, but not when it’s-“ he checks his watch, “Three oh seven in the morning while I’m trying sleep in a haunted bed.”

“Exactly.” You roll always from him and he rolls after you. He lays his arm over your waist and moves close to press his chest into your back. You lay your hand on his and your eyes search the room in a constant motion before you close them.

A knock from out in the hallway causes you to jump slightly and Sam slips his fingers under your sweatshirt and gently rubs over your skin, “You’re okay.” His voice is soft, sweet.

“Do you want me to try something to help you relax?”

You get a tingle in your stomach and you push your ass against him, “How would you do that?” You turn your head slightly and Sam slides his arm from your waist and slides his hand down to your ass.

“Push those leggings down and I’ll show you.”

You were instantly moving your hands to push down your leggings, moving onto your back as your stare finds Sam’s.

His hand travels from under your bare thigh, to your hip, then over to teasingly drag up and down your thinly clothed cunt.

“Please.” You whimper out quietly, “Sam.”

Sam leans in, pressing his lips to your jaw, “I love when you say my name..” he kisses up to your ear, biting down gently as his fingers work their way to pull your panties to the side.

You feel his fingers slowly draw circles on your clit and your lips part, moaning out quietly as your pleasure grows larger, “F-fuck.”

You slide your right hand down Sam’s body, slipping your fingers into the band of his sweats and you stop, moaning out as he dips two fingers into you.

“Shh, baby. Wouldn’t want to get caught now, right?” Sam asks softly. You nod, whimpering as he slowly works his fingers in and out of you.

“You feel so fucking good.” Sam praises you, “You’re going to feel absolutely incredible around my cock.”

His words cause you to whine and you slip your hand into his sweats, instantly moving past his boxers. He groans lowly, bucking his hips as he feels your hand wrap around him, tugging gently as his fingers continue to work your way to orgasm.

“S-Sam.” You moan out, rolling your hips, “I-I’m so close.”

“Just a little bit longer, sweetheart.” Sam presses a kiss to your cheek and you turn your head, pressing your lips to his.

You pull your hand out and Sam quickly pushes down his sweats and boxers before returning his fingers to the inside of your achey cunt.

You let out a small moan when you feel them curl, arching your back as your slide your hand back down to grip his cock.

Sam presses his lips to your head, groaning lowly as your stroke becomes a little faster, “Please.” You whimper out, “Sam, I’ve needed you.”

“Fuck, y/n.” He groans lowly and pulls you onto his lap, reaching up to pull you down to him. He has one arm between your bodies, holding his cock steady so you can slide down onto him.

You let out a moan as you feel him slide in, a low groan coming from his lips as his grip tightens.

You fall forward, face into his neck as Sam begins to thrust. One hand centered in the middle of you back and the other pressing down on your asscheek, “Fuck, sweetheart I-“ Sam groans and tilts his head back.

You take that opportunity to kiss up and down his neck, earning quiet moans and a harder grip to your hips as you leave little love bites across his skin.

“Still close, babe?” Sam asks and you nod your head, “uh huh.” You clench around him and hold your weight on your right am, hand pressing into the bed by his head, “F-fuck.”

You move your hips up and down, slamming down onto him with a force that is just absolutely prefect.

You let out a slightly louder moan as you finally snap and cum around him. Your body shakes and Sam holds you close, thrusting his hips up to guide you through your high.

He rolls over and continues to thrust, mainly chasing his own orgasm now, “F-fuck.” Sam breathes out, “Where do you want me?”

“I’ll swallow, easy clean up.” You run your hand through his hair and he nods, the urge just to see the imagine of his cum coating your tongue come to life is enough for him to pull out, cursing as he sits up.

You quickly move, lying down on your stomach as your lips wrap around his cock, head bobbing as you urge him to cum.

He places his hand on your head, gasping and whimpering as you suck him dry. He gasp, bucking his lips, “Fuck, okay.” He looks down at you as he pulls up his boxers and sweats, “feel better?”

You nod, fixing your panties and slipping your leggings back on. Sam goes do lay down and right as you go to lay down with him, a little red light catches your eye and you hand slaps over your mouth, “Oh shit!”

You turn to Sam as he sits up, “Sam!” You grab his chin and turn his head, “What am I-“ You turn his head to the camera on your side, and he gasps, “Oh fuck me running.” He looks back at you, your fingers still squeezing his chin.

“Well.. we definitely have to edit this one separate from Colby.” You sigh, “I totally forgot about the cameras.” Sam nods urging you to lay back with him, “I did do, but I’m sure Colby knew this was going to happen.”

You laugh slightly, cheek against his chest, “He was cheering for you to get into my pants?” You look up at him, fighting back a laugh as you listen to him stumble over his words for a second.

“Sam, baby. I’m joking.”

He laughs quietly and shrugs, “He just.. thinks we’d be good together.”

You nod, “For once I think I actually agree wirh Colby. Speaking of, we should probably check on him.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thank you so much for reading, let me know if you want a part 2 with the investigation leading up to this part. As always, I love yas 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[ravenslvt]

why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x f!reader! (pt.3)☆

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4 links!!

cw: smut! porn with feelings, fluff!, oral sex f recieving, confessions, alcohol use (responsibly), reader is hot and she knows it, tiny bit of angst but not really, party!, atsumu is annoying.

you stare at yourself in the mirror, cursing trying to put the obnoxious earring backing on.

“here let me help you.” your best friend mumbles, moving your hair and easily putting the jewlery on in place.

“thanks… are you sure it won’t be too cold tonight? maybe the skirt is too much.” you pout, looking over your outfit. the only ‘going out’ clothes you really brought was a short skirt and your favorite top that you’d wear to parties back at college.

it was your last week here at the suna residence, with classes starting up again soon.

so of course, the miya twins decided to reunite everyone at their family home, and throw a party. you were at least thankful it was only a street away so no one had to drive over there.

“you’ll be fine. atsumu’s hosting, i’m sure he’ll offer to warm you up” ami giggles. you roll your eyes. the more eccentric miya twin had always pined after you back in high school. of course you never paid him any mind, your heart was always focused on rintarou.

everytime you’d go to the inarizaki volleyball games back in high school, he’d come up to you with his charming smile. ‘aww, come all this way just to see little ol’ me? how sweet!’ he’d say before his brother would come in and grab him, apologizing for his nagging behavior. what you’d never notice though, was the way rintarou would glare daggers at his friend, always flirting with you right in front of him.

you wouldn’t hear their conversations in the locker rooms back then either.

‘i think i’m gonna ask her out, what do you think, suna?’ the blonde setter comments, smirking at the brunette who sat on the bench on his phone.

he just scoffed, sounding unconvinced. ‘good luck with that.’

‘hey! what’s that supposed to mean?’ he pouts, his ego taking a blow.

‘just saying, doesn’t seem like she’s that interested in you.’ suna replies, taking a sip from his water bottle.

‘oh yeah? sounds like you’re just jealous, mister.’ atsamu’s lips quirk back up into his usual smirk.

rin’s eye twitches.

‘no way. she’s like a sister to me.’

“ami you liar, it’s cold as fuck!” you shiver slightly, holding your arms to your chest as you step out the front door, rintarou locking it behind you three.

“consequences of dressing like a hottie. some liquor will warm you right up” she beams at you, making you sigh. “i guess” you squirm uncomfortably in your outfit. the second you walked downstairs, rintarou’s eyes went directly to your bare legs in the skirt. he still seemed so nervous around you even after he’s quite literally been inside of you (twice).

“let’s go before atsumu drinks everything and starts challenging people to sing offs.” the older suna says, walking ahead of you guys on the sidewalk.

“jeez, why’s he in a mood” ami mutters to you, you just shrug, eyeing him.

rin wasn't too excited at the thought of watching guys fawn over you all night while he had to stand back and not be able to do a thing about it.

once you approach the house, you could hear music playing from the backyard. rintarou knocks on the door first, texting someone to let them know you were there.

the door opens a few seconds later, a grey haired twin smiling at you three. “look who it is! long time no see girls. suna.” he gives the man a side hug, they still saw each other from time to time after college. you noticed the way osamu’s eyes lit up when ami smiled back at him. your eyebrows quirked.

“everyone’s scattered around, mostly in the back. drinks in the kitchen, beer pong in the garadge. the usual.” he lets you guys in pointing to each area as if you all hadn’t been there before.

“thanks, samu! c’mon” ami grabs your arm, giving osamu a kirt wave before dragging you into the kitchen where a few familiar faces stood around. you two pour yourselves drink after drink, conversing with some girls you ran into.

“atsumu!” one of the girls waves behind you. you hear him approach, turning around to face him. rintarou stood across the room with the osamu, keeping an eye once he saw the blonde come up to you.

“if it isn’t my favorite girl! how are you, gorgeous?” he slings a strong arm around your shoulder. if you weren’t in such a good mood you probably would have shrugged him off.

“hi, miya” you play into it, giving him a friendly smile. but still, rintarou lingered in the back of your mind.

“miya? ouch, no need to be so formal to the future love of your life.” he puts a dramatic hand to his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. you just roll your eyes, moving his arm and stepping away from him. he puts on his usual pout, ignoring the other girls who were trying to get his attention.

“you’re funny. should be a comedian instead of an athlete.” you comment, taking a sip from the plastic cup in your hand. you ignore the familiar burning sensation of the alcohol in your throat.

“i think that’s the only compliment you’ve ever given me, i’m flattered.”

you roll your eyes at his antics. you should’ve expected this from him.

rin watches from the side, downing his drink a little too fast.

“don’t let atsumu rile you up, man. dude’s just trying to rebound from his last girlfriend who dumped him.” osamu reassures the tall middle blocker, noticing his glaring at his brother.

“rebound? he’s trying to hook up with her or something?” suna’s grip on the cup tightens at the thought of you even being near atsumu in that way.

“who knows, he’s been crushing on her since like second year. why do you care so much anyways? i thought you saw her like a- oh.” his eyes soften. he got it. the time he got lunch with suna a week ago, noticing the hickies on his neck. him mentioning that you were staying at their house over the break.

you two were fucking.

“jesus dude, does your sister know?” he questions, his voice getting a little quieter.

“huh? what, no. we’re both adults, i don’t see why…” rintarou drags on, noticing the way the blonde twin was getting closer and closer to you.

“then why do you- hey! where are you going?” the grey haired twin calls after him, but he just ignores him.

your eyes meet rin’s as he approaches. a hint of relief washing over you. osamu took this chance to chat up ami.

“what’s goin on, dude?” suna puts a hand on the setter’s shoulder.

“suna! missed seein’ you around!” the tipsy man gives his attention to his old friend, giving you a chance to slip away. you give ami some excuse like ‘need some fresh air.’ she just nods, making sure you’re good before continuing her conversation with the calmer twin. you smile at the way her face lit up when talking to him.

you sit on a loungchair by the pool, far enough from everyone. you pull out your phone, giggling at the thought of how mad rintarou would be realizing his sister and bestfriend were flirting. it was kind of ironic though, given your own situation.

your mind started to wander. were you wrong for openly lying to your bestfriend who you adored so dearly? you’d liked rin for years, but since you guys started hooking up, you’ve had a guilty conscience.

what even were you two? you weren’t dating, but more than friends. the stolen kisses you two shared when ami wasn’t in the room. the looks you give each other over dinner or when passing in the hallway. it would all be over in a weeks time. would he move on? find someone else to occupy his time?

“what are you staring at?” the low voice you know oh to well cuts through your thoughts. you realize you spaced out, staring into the changing colors of the pool lights. suna takes a seat next to you on the spacious chair.

“nothing, just thinking.” you shrug, bringing your gaze back to him.

“what are you doing out here?” you add, picking up your drink from the floor and taking a sip. he gives you a small smile.

“couldn’t let you sit out here all alone. especially if tsumu tried hitting on you again.” he watches as your lips meet the cup. your eyebrow quirked.

“hmm. someone jealous?” you smirk, placing your drink back down on the floor, your head already dizzy from all the alcohol you’ve already had. plus your close proximity to the man in front of you did not help.

he snorts. “of him? no way. if you wanted him you would’ve gone for it years ago. plus-“ he leans a little closer. “-he’s not the one who got to fuck you.” oh the liquor made him bold.

it was true, he wasn’t jealous of the setter himself. he was more jealous at the thought of anyone else having you. especially when you leave in a week.

“y’know, tokyo’s only like, three hours away from where i go.” he says. he refuses to look away from you. you just look so good.

“what are you implying?” you cross one leg over the other, leaning a little back to get a better look at him.

“i-i don’t know. just mentioning it.” you scoff at his sudden dry response. your heart feeling a small pang of hurt from remembering what atsumu told you just a few minutes ago before rin came over to save you from his nagging.

‘aw that’s cute. looking over at suna over there. y’know he told me he sees you as a little sister. such a sweet guy looking out for you like that.’ the worst part is he wasn’t even trying to be sarcastic or spiteful, just genuinely praising suna.

“right…” you sigh, standing up to leave. before you can even turn around he reaches for your hand.

“hey, what’s wrong?” his voice is full of worry. your shoulders slump, he stands to meet your height. he still held onto your hand, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

“i-i’m just drained. think i’m gonna walk back home.” your skin tingles at the way he’s so gentle with you. compared to the way he was in sports.

“let me walk you.”

“no, that’s not necessary rin.”

“you’re drunk, i’m not gonna let you walk home alone.”

“i’m not even that-“ you start, but he cuts you off with a stern scold of your own name.

“fine… but let me text your sister first.” you sigh, sending her a quick ‘don’t feel too god, rintarou’s gonna take me home. are you ok? we can stay if you want.’

she sends back a text that makes you giggle. ‘oh girl, do not worry about me’ you look up and spot her with osamu, she gives you a thumbs up. you knew you were right. she’s been wanting to hop on the samu train since high school. glad she finally got the chance.

‘don’t wait up. probably gonna stay here tonight. do NOT tell my brother he will murder me and samu both.’

you laugh at your phone, suna gives you a confused look.

“what’s so funny?”

“oh, nothing. let’s go.”

you two snuck out the back gate, not wanting to draw any attention. it was bad enough you two were walking out together, a lingering mark still on his neck from just a few days ago.

“you still cold?” he asks, your shoulders brushing as you walk down the dark street.

“nah, ami was right. tequila warms me right up.” you say. plus the close proximity to him kept you warm, his body heat radiating from under his jacket. it stayed silent for a few moments before you speak up.

“was… was atsumu telling the truth?” you say, looking up at him.

“what did that idiot say this time?” he gives a small laugh.

“that you think of me as a sister.” this makes him stop dead in his tracks. he looks at you nervously.

“do you really think we’d have done all we did if i thought that?” he says, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. you shrug, making him sigh.

“i said that shit in high school. before…”

“before what?” you peer up at him, his callused hands moving to cup your face.

“before i realized i… had feelings for you.” he confesses, making your eyes widen.

when rintarou first realized he was in love with you, it was a little later than when you developed your own crush on him. it was your eighteenth birthday, suna was nineteen and in his first year of college. ami threw you a suprise party at her house, inviting all your friends. you wore your prettiest little outfit. ami even convinced her uncle to get you guys some beers, needless to say, the birthday girl drank most of them.

when the night went on, you spotted rin nursing his own beer on the couch. you come up to him, sitting maybe a little too close than you meant to.

“why’re you sulking here by yourself. s’my birthday! i command you to have some fun, rintarou.” the way you said his name made something stir inside of him. your body faced his, you didn’t even notice the way your dress rode up on your thighs, or the way his eyes immediately went down to them.

“how’s it feel to finally be an adult?” he says, forcing his eyes back on yours.

“s’alright. kinda anticlimactic but i’m glad m’here. glad you’re here.” you admit, the alcohol clearly making you more bold. his eyes widen a little. you weren’t just his little sister’s best friend, you were a smart, funny, beautiful woman. he’s always known you were pretty, it was obvious. but he’d never had a genuine conversation with you like this.

you two talked for half an hour. everytime you’d smile or laugh at something he said, his heart beat would quicken in his chest.

your head whipped when you heard a call of your name from one of your friends. “c’mon! we got you a cake!”

he never forgot the smile you had on your face when your friends put this much effort into your birthday. it just proved what a good, special person you were. he found himself not wanting you to leave, wanting you to stay talking with him. the nagging pain in his heart when you got up to leave, giving him a cute little wave and a ‘talk to you later!’

then it all clicked.

years of glaring at any boy who approached you, smiling whenever he’d see you in the stands of his games cheering him on, the small tingle of excitment in his chest when he knew you were coming over to see his sister.

he’d loved you for so long, and he never even realized it. not until you left for college, leaving him with his own feelings to sort through. so when he found out you were staying with them over the break, god was he estatic on the inside.

you two stand only a few houses down from his. you could easily walk over and continue the conversation there, but he needed you. needed you to know how much he truly cared.

“oh” a hint of nerves crawled up your spine. your head spins. you’d been this close so many times before, but behind closed doors. except that one time in the kitchen.

but he held you in the middle of the street, not caring that anyone could walk out of their house and see you two. his forehead presses against yours, breathing in your air.

you didn’t know what to say, so you just lean up on your tipy toes and peck his lips, making him smile. he wraps his arms around your waist, not a chance of letting you pull away from him.

“rin, someone might see.” you giggle into the kiss, he just shakes his head gently.

“i don’t give a fuck, let them.”

you stand in his room. it hadn’t changed very much since the very few times you’d peeked in walking past it before. a few hoodies laid out in his chair from when he was deciding what to wear earlier.

he had a few posters on his walls, some of random volleyball teams and even some random bands. the room smelled like him.

“here, drink some water.” he walks back in, closing the door behind him as he hands you a clear plastic bottle. you take it, your hand brushing with his own. you seat yourself on the edge of his bed, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor anxiously. you take a few sips to relieve your nerves.

“you look really good tonight.” his voice cuts through the silence. your head perks up, eyes meeting his.

“so i don’t look good every other night?” you give him a playful smile. he scoffs, hopping on the bed next to you, making the mattress squeak.

“you know what i mean.” his large hand finds your own, playing with you fingers.

this was probably the first time in the last few weeks you’d been alone for this long together without fucking.

“osamu knows about… us.” his hand doesn’t leave your own. your eyebrow quirks.

“you told him?” you softly ask, not angry or demanding. if anything, you were somewhat flattered he wanted people to know.

“he figured it out. mentioned i was ‘oogling’ you too hard” he gives a small chuckle, squeezing your hand gently. his small little acts of affection always made you relax into his touch. you lead your head on his strong shoulder, sighing.

“you think he’ll tell ami?” you peek up at him, moving a peice of his dark hair away from his eyes. he just shrugs.

“probably not. even if he does it wouldn’t be the worst thing.” he kisses your forehead.

“i’d rather her find out when i’m hours away. i don’t need to be murdered in my sleep for lying to her.” you reply. he just laughs.

“c’mon. you’re the only girl she’d ever approve of me being with. she loves you, my parents love you, i-“

you cut him off with a kiss to his surprisingly soft lips, pulling him in by the nape of his neck.

he smiles into the kiss, his hands going to your waist to bring you closer.

“c’mere” he grabs your hips, helping you straddle his lap, facing him. you hold back a gasp when you feel his half hard dick

“someone’s impatient…” you mumble into his mouth, he bites your lip in retort. you try to pull back but his mouth just follows yours, hands gripping your waist for dear life so you didn’t fall right off his lap.

“look so pretty in your little skirt-“ one of his hands reaches under your skirt, groping your ass through your panties, making you gasp.

“-wanted to drag you in the bathroom and fuck you over the counter.” his kisses go down your jaw, sucking new marks into your neck and collarbones.

“jesus, rin.” your voice is needy. you unconsciously grind your hips into his, needing some some sort of friction. the action made him groan.

your breath catches in your throat when he switches your positions, you laying on your back on his bed while he stands over you. his eyes go to your lifted skirt, holding back a groan when he sees the growing wet patch on the fabric of your panties.

he breathes out your name, looking up at you while slowly kissing down your exposed thighs, kneeling down. you squirm under him, he just gives your thigh a threatening squeeze. “stay still, pretty.” his nose finds your clothed clit, making you gasp.

“y-you don’t have to-“

“shush. i want to, so badly.” he assures, licking your clothed cunt. the fabric adding to the stimulation, making you grip his sheets underneath you.

he slides your soaked panties to the side, the cool air hitting your now exposed pussy.

“always so pretty for me.” he immediately delves into your cunt, lapping up and down you folds before focusing on your clit. you let out mewls of his name, gripping at his dark locs of hair.

he brings you closer to him, his arms locking under your thighs so he’s holding you up to his mouth. he could do this forever.

he moans into your wetness, the sounds of your pleasure making him practically get off. he slowly grinded his own hips into the bed, but not letting himself cum unless it was with you.

you’d never felt like this before. the constant laps of his hot tongue compared to his mouth sucking on your clit making you clench your thighs around him. he groaned at a certain harsh tug to his hair, the vibrations on your pussy only adding to the pleasure.

what really got you close to the edge though was when his tongue prods itself into your tight hole, making you try and pull away from how overwhelmed you were with how good it felt.

“f-fuck, rin, s’too much.” your thighs start to shake around his head, but he only speeds up. his nose catching on your clit while his tongue dips into you, pumping in and out. you let out a loud moan when you start to cum around his tongue, suna not even daring to stop. if all he could eat for the rest of his life was your pussy, he’d be between your legs all day everyday.

your hips roll into his face, wetness coating his chin and nose. you have to push his head away when it starts to get too much. he pulls away, panting. he wipes his mouth with his sleeve, crawling up on top of you to kiss you. you sigh into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tounge. it got you aroused all over again.

“rinnn” you whine, hands tugging at his hoodie.

“what’s up, baby?” he kisses your cheek, a smug smirk on his face looking down at you. he looked absolutely heavenly looking over you, hands on either side of your head.

“need you” you pout up at him.

“what do you need, hmm?” he sits up on his knees to pull his hoodie over his head, his bare chest and toned abs on display. you practically moan just at the sight of him. you’d never get bored of this view.

“you- your cock… please” your hands go straight to his abs, kissing down his pecs and stomach. he chuckles at you, hand smoothing down your hair.

“want me t’make you feel good?” he pushes your shoulders back down so your back is completley pressed against the sheets. you nod frantically.

“anything for my gorgeous girl.” he slides his pants and boxers off, throwing them somewhere on the floor. while he does this you take your chance to rip your top off, along with your bra.

he crawls back over you, slotting himself between your legs. you look at him expectedly as he pulls out his already hard cock. pre cum already leaking from his raging pink tip.

he lines himself up with you, impatiently siding himself into your needy hole.

you’d never felt him from this angle before, the way he was perfectly slotted inside of you.

he slowly moves his hips, cock sliding deliciously in and out of you. your eyes screw shut.

“g-god rin, feels so good, fuck!” your hands go straight to his shoulders, not caring how badly your manicured nails were dragging down his arms.

but it wasn’t enough for him. he grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders as he pumps even deeper.

“there we go. so f-fucking perfect, baby.” his breath hitched as his pace quickens, fucking into you at the perfect speed and angle.

you let out the most borderline pornographic moan when the head of his cock hits that spongey spot deep inside of you. his hand goes to pinch and tug at your nipples, making you mewl.

“rinn!” you cry out as he pounds into you relentlessly. this was by far your favorite angle with him.

“right here, pretty.” he wants nothing more than to reach down and kiss you, but he didn’t wanna hurt your poor legs. plus you felt so good he didn’t wanna move. so instead his thumb goes to your slick pussy, rubbing and pinching at your clit.

“so fuckin’ messy.” he grunts, your cunt practically trapping him in. you watch as he spits down where you two meet, adding extra lubricant. the sight made you feel so dirty, but so fucking good.

his eyes watched the way his cock entered you so insanley perfectly. like you were made to take him. the wet noises coming from your arousal whenever he thrusts in and out and the sounds of your mixed moans filled the quiet room.

his head rolls back and he groans, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

“fuck- switch. want you to ride me.” you pout when he pulls out, leaving you feeling so empty.

you sit up, as he sits leaning against the headboard. he gives his cock a few pumps when he watches you climb on him, hands on his shoulders as you line his cock up with you. his hands hold your waist for support as you sink yourself down onto him.

you let out a moan when he’s fully seated inside of you. you move off of him almost all the way, bouncing yourself up and down his cock.

“oh-“ you moan as he snaps up his own hips to meet your own. you hear as his head slams against the wooden headboard with a grunt.

he grabs your throat, bringing you in to kiss him. it was messy and needy. all tongue and teeth at how fucked out you both were. he pulls back, his hand still lingering on your throat as the roll of your hips gets faster and faster.

his eyes focus on the marks he left on your neck, running a finger over the fresh dark purple hickies lingering all over your neck and chest. then his eyes go to your bouncing tits, grabbing them and bringing one into his mouth.

you groan when he bites down.

“rin- can’t anymore. g’nna cum” you whine out, your hips getting tired and messy. he sits up more straight, grabbing your hips and slamming up into you, making your eyes roll back.

“cum all over my cock, baby. told ya i’d make you feel good.” sweat beaded up by his brow, he was focusing on his thrusts.

“c-cum inside me rin! please, wanna feel you inside.” you plead. brain feeling like it’s short circuiting, the only thing running through your brain was how good his cock felt pumping inside of you.

he kisses you as you moan into his mouth, cuming around him and squeezing his dick. he pulses inside of you, warm cum filling you up as you share eachothers moans. your kiss goes from rushed and hot to sweet and tender as you come down from your orgasms. neither one of you makes a move to pull away, his cock softening inside of you.

“again?” you pant, kissing his cheek and looking at him with pleading eyes.

you yelp when he pinches your waist, but it turns into a small whine when you feel him get hard inside of you again.

“you’re gonna kill me, gorgeous.”

the clock read 6:28 AM. the sun was barely rising, you lie on rintarou’s chest as you two peacefully slept, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. his fluffy blanket wrapped snug around you.

the front door quietly creeks open, and shuts.

“shit that was loud as fuck” a hushed high pitched voice whispers. the younger suna sneaks up the stairs, shoes in hand, expecting to find you asleep in her bedroom. but the room was empty. the house was silent, her brother’s door closed.

hmm, that’s weird. you guys came back from the party, right?

ami knocks on her brother’s door, loudly in attempt to wake him up.

“hellooo?” she asks where you are, opening the door abruptly. “did you guys not come back from the party-“

“what the fuck?!”

a/n: need suna (requests) i love this man.

masterlist

[the-boy-meets-evil]

you're mine | c.sc

you thought you had finally gotten the upper hand on seungcheol. you were wrong. pairing: idol!seungcheol x fem!reader genre: idol!au | smut, pwp rating: explicit | minors DNI warnings: this is mostly just smut so take that how you will, reader is kinda bratty, scoups is possessive, slight dom undertones (? idk i don't usually write this), swearing, kissing, biting, marking, restraints, sensory deprivation (blindfold), fingering, brief mention of a hand job, slight nipple play, use of a pet name (baby, pretty girl), oral sex (f. receiving), vaginal penetration, protected sex, i think that's it but let me know if i missed anything word count: ~3.5k

a/n: idk what to say, this kind of got away from me lol. credit/blame to @seungkwansphd for putting the idea in my head and scoups for whatever bullshit he was on in macao. it was supposed to be a drabble and this isn't what i'd normally write so go easy on me. unbeta'd and mostly unedited. thank you to my baby @playmetheclassics / @classicscreations for the last minute banner and divider!

You’ve never been much of a brat with anyone else. It just isn’t something that crossed your mind. Why would you want to rile someone up on purpose? Why would you want to get under their skin just to see their response? Why would you want to do the opposite of what they asked? So no, it hasn’t crossed your mind.

Until Seungcheol. 

Until you met the man that made you want to cause problems. The man that made you discover a lot of things you didn’t know about yourself. The man that had you from the moment he told you that he was going to go easy on you. You didn’t realize then, but you were fucked. Talk about being in over your head. 

He really did start easy, in hindsight. And he let you get away with things you didn’t even realize. Thought you had the upper hand, actually. How many ways can one person be wrong? You don’t have the answer beyond knowing it’s a lot. 

You love the moments that Seungcheol lets you think you’re in control. You know now that’s all it is. Pretend. He’s always the one actually pulling the strings. And you’re always the one trying to press his buttons, press your luck, gain some ground. 

Today’s test? You want to mark him up. You want to leave your claim on him, but you know you can’t make it obvious. Don’t feel like you can push his buttons quite that hard. So even though you want to mark up his neck, you settle for his chest. You keep telling him that it’s getting too big anyway. Just who is he trying to impress?

Seungcheol is lying in your bed, one arm tucked behind his head and eyes closed. You know he’s not asleep, though, know he’s just enjoying a minute of peace before he has to leave and return to the chaos. And you know now is the best time because he really does have to go soon. It’s the best time to be able to get him and win, even if just for a moment, because there’s a lot of things he’ll do. A lot of things you still haven’t learned. But he’ll never be late. Never miss a schedule or leave his members waiting. 

So you adjust your position under the premise of stretching, not really sure if he buys the act but also not really caring. You push yourself up and quickly swing a leg over his thighs, feel them clench under you quickly as you’re settling on top of them.

“And just who are you working out for?” you challenge, quirking an eyebrow.

“I don’t hear you complaining,” is his only answer as he opens his eyes to look up at you. 

“Maybe I don’t want everyone else to see how good you look,” you pout.

“Maybe you should behave yourself then,” he retorts and you huff.

“I’m pretty sure you prefer it when I don’t,” you say.

You lean forward to kiss him before he can answer, lips meeting softly as his hands move up your thighs to grip your hips. He’s anchoring you to him and you know he’s mentally counting how much time he actually has. But you don’t want to give him that chance, don’t want to give up the tiny bit of control this position and the element of surprise have given you. You get the smallest bit of satisfaction when you break the kiss and he follows your lips. It’s not the time to get distracted, though, not now. So you kiss down his neck, suck just enough to earn a hiss out of him without it being enough to leave a mark. Not there at least. 

When you get to his chest, the muscles in his thighs tighten again. On purpose, you think, to distract you. It’s hard to ignore too, especially when his hands grip your hips harder. When you can tell he’s trying to throw you off.

“Baby,” he whines and you know that whine, know that it’s designed to distract.

All you do is hum against his chest as you continue to kiss across it and down his stomach. His moans are low, the kind that really get to you. The kind where you know he’s enjoying himself even if he’s not fully in control. You kiss back up to his chest and can feel his breaths as you go.

“What are you going to do now, baby?” he asks. You hear the confidence in his voice. The confidence that usually makes you stutter.

Not today, though. You suddenly suck the skin of his chest into your mouth. Seunghcheol hisses in the most satisfying way at the combination of pleasure and pain. His fingers dig into your skin where they hold you in place, making you hum into his skin. It just makes you keep going, managing to suck two marks into his skin before his alarm goes off. 

Without needing to be told, you slide off of him and allow him to get out of the bed. You know he doesn’t want to leave, but you know he’ll be back. Know that he’s got to keep to his schedule or he won’t be able to come over at all. After he’s pulled his shirt back on and gathered his things, he comes to stand in front of where you’re sitting at the edge of the bed. His kiss is soft, at odds with yours from moments ago.

“Listen carefully,” he whispers into your ear in that low voice. “I expect you to be waiting in bed when I text you that I’m headed back.”

“Is that so?” you challenge.

“Yes, pretty girl,” he says.

“And if I’m not?” you press.

“You’ll find out,” he answers.

That alone sends a shiver down your spine. You always want him to come back, never feel like you’ve had quite enough, but this is something even more. You’re looking forward to it. 

The text comes a little later than you’re expecting saying that he’s on his way back over. And it comes without an apology for the lateness (though Jeonghan had texted you earlier to let you know things were running long). No, this text just comes with a reminder that expects you to be waiting for him in bed. He’ll let himself in.

It gives you too good of a chance, one you don’t want to pass up. He’s expecting you to listen, especially after you marked him earlier. But you’ve been waiting for this. And you’re not going to listen. 

Ten minutes later, you hear the key turn in the lock and you sit further back into the couch wearing only one of his t-shirts he’s left behind and underwear. Maybe you’ll get to see a little of his control slipping. 

His eyes are on you the second he’s through the door, narrowing at the open defiance. Seungcheol is serious as he regards you sitting there. It’s like he’s waiting for you to break first and confident you will. It makes you fidget a little in your seat, which seems to be enough for him.

“I asked you to be waiting in bed,” he says.

“I know,” you respond without missing a beat. “I guess I’m not so good at following directions.”

“And what do you think I should do?” He’s more so asking himself the question than you.

“Whatever you want,” you answer anyway. He raises an eyebrow.

“Careful what you ask for, pretty girl,” he warns. 

“I think I can handle it.” It comes out just as bold as you mean for it to.

“We’ll see about that,” he says without missing a beat. “Follow me.”

Every part of you wants to protest, wants to keep pushing him further to see what happens. But your curiosity is also piqued and you really want to see what it is that he’s planning now. That must be why you let the intrusive thought win and follow him back into your bedroom where you find him already reaching into the drawer of your nightstand. The same drawer that he filled so you were always ready.

“Are you going to behave now and get on the bed like I asked?” Seungcheol asks with his back still to you.

“I’m not sure,” you say and smirk at the way it makes him turn around.

“Oh you’re not?” he asks. 

“What’s in it for me if I start listening? Who’s going to rile you up?” you fire back at him.

“You like seeing me riled up,” he notes.

“Of course I do,” you offer.

He closes the space between you in a matter of steps and crushes his lips against yours to prevent another retort. The surprise gives way to desire as you wind your arms around his neck. You’re not even that surprised when he grabs you and lifts you up to deposit you onto the bed, despite the gasp that falls from your lips. He puts a knee between your legs and kisses you hard again before he breaks the kiss to pull off your shirt. You reach to remove your underwear and he stops your hands.

“Leave those,” he says before getting off the bed.

His back is to you again as he looks for something in the drawer. You have to squeeze your legs together when he turns back to you with silk scarves in his hands. But then he’s silently asking your permission before attaching each wrist to the headboard and you’re nodding even as you’re squirming. It’s not until you realize he’s still got something in his hands that you remember he promised you’d find out what happens when you don’t listen.

“What’s that for, Cheol?” you ask as he straddles your lap.

“I told you that you’d find out,” he answers and leans forward so his lips are nearly on your ear. “You don’t get to see what I’m doing. Just remember the word to use if it’s too much.”

That makes you swallow hard. You’ve talked about sensory deprivation and explored it a little, but you’ve never been blindfolded from the start. And part of you thinks that he’s going to leave this on you the entire time. A reminder of who’s actually calling the shots. He’s still gentle when he secures it behind your head, so careful that he doesn’t get any of your hair caught. You blink your eyes when it’s in place without it making much of a difference. You’re not totally blinded, but you might as well be. You can barely make out a shadow.

The next thing you’re aware of is Seungcheol’s lips against your neck, carefully trailing kisses that make you want to press into him. His thumb brushes across your nipple and you whimper, earning a chuckle out of him. Not being able to see is making everything feel a lot bigger. Just making it feel a lot more. There’s no knowing where his hands or mouth will be next and it’s turning you on. Making you want everything all at once.

Seunghcheol drags your nipple between his teeth and you arch into him, careful not to pull too hard against the restraints. The hand he runs down your side as he continues to tease your nipple should tickle, would under any other circumstances. It doesn’t this time, though. 

“Are you going to listen to me next time?” he murmurs against your skin.

“I don’t know,” you manage between a moan. Your nipples are so sensitive.

“What was that?” he asks before he returns to kissing along the underside of your breast while his hand massages the other.

“I said I don’t know,” you repeat, fighting against the answer he wants.

“I guess the blindfold stays on,” he muses. 

With that, he works his way down your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses mixed with goosebumps from the warmth of his breath. Part of you wants to anticipate his moves and you open your legs, just slightly. He chuckles so quietly that you think usually you wouldn’t hear it. Except now everything sounds louder. You feel him remove his lips from your body, feel the bed shift from him moving somehow, and then feel his lips make contact with your skin again. But he’s kissing down from your knee, completely avoiding the place you want him the most. Even your moans and squirming do nothing to make him move on from kissing along your calf.

“Please baby,” you beg. 

“Please what?” he asks, smirk clear in his voice. 

“I need you,” you answer.

“Do you?” is all he asks 

“Yes, Seungcheol, please,” you whine.

“Are you going to listen next time?” he wonders. He runs a finger up your inner thigh, stopping just shy of the material separating you from what you need most.

“Cheol,” you plead.

“Are you?” he repeats. This time he moves your underwear to the side and runs a single finger between your folds. It’s over entirely too fast. “So wet.” 

“Fuck, yes Cheol, whatever you want, I just fucking need you,” you beg again. 

His answer comes in the form of pulling your underwear down swiftly, leaving you naked before him. He runs his finger along your folds again, collecting some of the wetness there. You’re so hyper aware of him that you’re moaning from the barest touch, moaning when you feel his fingers pull away again. But then you feel him move around you and he licks into you without warning, spreading your folds with his fingers to get his tongue deeper.

“Fuck, baby, fuuuuck,” you yell. 

You want to have your hands in his stupid blond hair, the hair he knew was going to drive you crazy. Want to hold his face between your thighs. So you lightly squeeze your thighs together instead and he moans into your cunt. It’s annoying, actually, how good he’s always been at going down on you because just the thought of it makes you agree to damn near anything. 

Everything just feels that much more intense. Usually you love the sight of Seungcheol between your legs. Love to watch the way his head moves, love to see the way his hair falls, love the way the muscles move. Still do. But damn there’s something about not knowing what’s coming that’s making it that much hotter. 

Seconds later his mouth moves up your clit and your back arches into his mouth again. He follows it by sliding a finger inside you and you really think you see stars. Hearing the way he moans into you along with the way his fingers move is almost too much. You don’t need to see anything, he’s setting your entire body on fire. When he slides a second finger in and hooks them to hit you just right, you scream out again. 

He pulls his mouth away. “Oh, do you like that?”

“Fuuuuu- oh my god Cheol, yes yes,” you manage.

“Who fucks you the best, baby?” Seungcheol asks. “Hm? Who does this pussy belong to?” 

It’s honestly into cocky territory and you don’t care. Didn’t realize it was this much of a turn on for him to be possessive over you like this. Didn’t realize how much you wanted to be his, even if it’s confined to these four walls. 

“I’m waiting,” he says, stilling his fingers inside you.

“It’s yours, Cheol, I’m yours,” you whimper.

His fingers start moving again and he doesn’t answer until you feel his mouth on yours, taste yourself on his tongue. He’s catching every moan with his mouth, pushing you to let go, urging you forward. Part of you wants to pull away, knows that he must feel you clenching around his fingers, but doesn’t move his lips from yours. Catches the screams you want to let loose and guides you as you come around his fingers.

Your breathing is still coming back to normal as you feel Seungcheol untying your wrists, massaging each one as he does so. The last thing he does is remove the scarf covering your eyes and you blink even at the low light in the bedroom. His gaze is soft but confident. He knows how hard he just made you come, yet still wants to make sure you’re okay.

“Can we do that again some time?” you wonder and he chuckles.

“I guess it wasn’t a punishment,” he notes.

“Oh no, I’ve definitely learned my lesson,” you tease and he rolls his eyes but there’s nothing behind it.

“Hm,” is all he says.

He’s sitting up on the bed next to you, one hand lightly stroking his cock. You’re not sure when he took off his clothes but just getting you off clearly turned him on. Without even thinking about it, you’re moving to straddle his thighs. His eyes watch you intently as you spit into your hand and move his aside. Your strokes are slow and he lets his head fall back, eyes closing. It’s not often that he lets you set the pace like this, so you’re going to enjoy it while you can. When you run your thumb over the tip, you watch the way the muscles in his stomach contract. And you know his patience is wearing out.

“Enough,” he says and reaches over to the nightstand for a condom. He’s ripping it open with his teeth and then rolling it on the next second.

Seungcheol reaches out to pull you toward him and you realize he’s not planning on moving. No, he’s planning on you riding him. Which is fine by you since you already went this long without being able to see him. You try to lower yourself down slowly because he’s big and as many times as you’ve fucked him, you’re still never quite ready. But he has other plans and pulls you down in one motion.

“Fuck,” you draw out.

“I don’t wanna wait anymore,” he says in that low voice that shoots straight to your core. 

You’re not sure which of you moves first with his hands guiding you as you fuck yourself on him. One of his hands slides up your back and into your hair, pulling it so you arch into him. The new angle has a string of words mixed with moans flying out of your mouth. And it makes it easier for him to pull your nipple between his teeth again. Except this time he doesn’t focus on your nipple. This time he moves to the skin at the side of your breast, sucking hard. Much harder than you sucked earlier. Definitely hard enough to leave a mark. Fucker.

That thought flies out when he snaps his hips into you suddenly, quickening the pace and angling so he’s hitting exactly where you need him too. Each thrust stretches you out and brings you closer to another orgasm. You don’t even register that you’re sensitive from the first. Seungcheol pulls at your hair again and focuses on your exposed neck, a constant contrast of pain and pleasure. He kisses up and down the base before he lands at your pulse point right below your jaw. 

“Cheol fuck,” you yell as he sucks another mark into your skin. Another mark reminding you that you’re his. 

“Are you close, baby?” he asks when he finishes marking you. “Gonna come for me again?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, I’m so close,” you whine out. 

Seungcheol removes his hand from your hair to put both hands on your hips, anchoring you in place while he takes over thrusting into you. You know he must be close too with the way his brow furrows and the way he stutters.

“Fuck baby, come for me, I want to feel you come,” he urges.

It’s all you need and you’re releasing again, a string of fucks leaving your lips as he comes right after you. You try to carefully move through his release before collapsing down on his lap with him still inside you. You lean your head forward onto his shoulder to try and steady your breaths. He kisses lightly along your shoulder, hands trailing absently across your skin.

You like every version of Seungcheol, but you think this version, in the immediate aftermath of fucking him, might be your favorite. The contrast of how soft his touches are does things to your heart that you’re not entirely sure you want to admit. Not to yourself at least.

After another long moment, you gently pull yourself off him and flop back onto your side of the bed. You feel, rather than see, him get off the bed and assume he’s walking off to the bathroom. When he returns with a washcloth a minute later, you’re running your fingers absently along the mark you’re sure he left below your jaw.

“Just in case you forget,” he says before he runs the wet cloth along your skin.

“Forget what?” you question.

“That you’re my girl,” he says. “You can try to be cute and mark my chest or be friends with my members like Jeonghan. But you’re mine.”

“Yes sir,” you say and appreciate the way his eyes darken. Maybe he’s not done with you for the night yet. 

thank you for reading, let me know your thoughts <3

[ari-freeworld]

'*•♡Finding Space In Your Heart ♡•*'

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01 - Unexpected offers

Pairing - Biker/Roommate!Bakugou x Fem!Reader

An - After debating whether or not to post this, I decided to just go for it! I’m excited to share my very first published fic with you all. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, let me know what you think! XO

Summary - After Kirishima moves in with his girlfriend, Mina, Bakugou finds himself in need of a new roommate. He’s on the hunt for someone who can tolerate his loud (and expensive) Ducati, his odd hours at the mechanic shop, and who is fairly tidy and able to pay their share of the rent. After having no luck finding the right person, his long-time friends Mina and Kirishima suggest an old friend of Mina's—enter you, a young professional writer looking for a place to live during your partnership with a publishing company.

Notes/warnings - Qurikless AU, aged up characters, drinking and smoking mentioned. Inappropriate language (its bkg duh) Slow build up (eventual smut).

wrds - 1.9k

02 , 03

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"Hello, earth to y/n!" A hand waved over your face, pulling you from your trance.

"Sorry, Mina," you said, stirring your milkshake with your straw.

You were sitting in Mina's local diner, catching up and drinking milkshakes—a monthly ritual you both had kept since your teen years. However, this particular meeting had been long overdue since Mina and her boyfriend, Kirishima, had been busy these last few months with their big move.

"What's bugging you?" Mina asked. Your friendship with her was a strong one, now going on eight years since you met in a softball little league at the age of fifteen. Ever since then, she had been your rock and you hers.

You didn't want to dampen the mood with your issues, especially when you were supposed to be celebrating her move. However, your current situation had you stressed for a couple of weeks now.

You had received astonishing news a few weeks ago: an offer from a publishing company you'd been dreaming of working with for a while. They would love to work with you on your book. It was the perfect opportunity, but life had thrown you a curveball. The company expected you to relocate within the next month, or they would reselect someone who could. All the places you’d looked at were way over your budget, and you didn't want to depend on your parents right after moving out from their place.

You sighed, "I've been having trouble with the new job."

"What!? Did they decide they didn't want you anymore? Those pricks!" Mina slammed her milkshake on the table, shooting a couple of drops of whipped cream onto her lap.

"No, no, it isn't that," you sighed again. "It's just that they want me to move closer to the site, and I'm getting nervous because I can't find a place yet."

"Well, why don't you stay with me and Kiri? We wouldn't mind giving you the spare room for as long as you need." You could tell she was serious. Bless her heart.

"I literally could not do that. After all, you and Kiri have been waiting for the chance to move in together, and I don't want to ruin that for you."

"Why not? It would be fun! Plus, you wouldn’t be a bother."

"I appreciate the offer, Mina, but I don't want to intrude." Maybe you'll just have to make the three-hour drive there and back every day, you thought to yourself.

"Gosh, y/n, you're so stubborn. The offer will stand indefinitely." She's such a good friend; you couldn't possibly burden her and Kiri. More like you won't.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Fuck," Bakugou exhaled, wiping the grease and dirt off his hands with his white tank top.

"Hey, Bakugou! Are you closing up soon? It's late," Kiri entered from the semi-closed garage door after helping out their last customer for the day.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just fucking replacing my bike's stupid-ass engine oil." Kiri could tell something was bothering Bakugou. He'd been trying to get it out of him all day. He hated seeing his friend this way: walking around with tense shoulders, snapping at people. He even drove away a customer this morning with his attitude.

"Dude, what's up with you today?" Kiri asked. "You've been... pissy."

Bakugou glared at Kiri, then sat on the stool by his raised bike. "I can't find a fucking roommate," he quietly admitted.

"Shit, man. I'm sorry about dumping the move on you." Kiri moved to lean on the large tool cabinet. "I could always help you pay for this month to help out."

"Don't be a dumbass." Bakugou ran his hand through his blonde locks, moving the parts stuck to his sweaty forehead from his face. "You're basically moved out; you would just be paying my rent for me."

Kirishima pondered for a moment, trying to think of some way to help his friend. Then suddenly, he remembered what Mina mentioned the other day.

"Wait! This is perfect. I just remembered!" Kiri stood up straight. "Mina's friend, y/n!"

"Who?" Bakugou asked, uninterested.

"You know y/n. I've spoken about her before. She's actually looking for a place but couldn't find any within her budget!"

"A girl?! I can't move in with some random chick!" Bakugou was surprised Kirishima would even suggest that.

"You have to meet her! She would be the perfect roommate for you. She's reserved and, from what Mina's said, a really good person!"

"Yeah, no fucking thanks." Bakugou got up to pack things up and close the shop.

Kirishima, on the other hand, did not care about what Bakugou said and proceeded to text his girlfriend, trying to come up with a plan to get them to meet.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening, Kiri and Mina's plan was in full swing. You were getting ready to meet Mina and some of Kiri's friends at a downtown bar. Unbeknownst to you, this was no ordinary hangout—there was a secret agenda at play.

Now here you were, about to enter some random bar, planning to have a stress-free night filled with fun before returning to reality tomorrow.

As you opened the bar door, the smell of cigarettes, greasy food, and alcohol hit your nose. You weren't too big on partying or getting drunk; Mina, on the other hand, was a pure party animal through and through. You often found yourself tagging along on outings like these, so it wasn't going to be a peculiar evening—or so you thought.

"Y/n! Over here!" You saw Mina practically jumping out of her seat, waving to get your attention. Making your way over, you glanced at everyone else seated in the booth. Familiar faces you'd seen at past hangouts.

"Hey, guys!" You stood in front of the table, and seated from left to right were Sero, Denki, Kirishima, and, of course, Mina. It seemed like there was someone missing who had been seated between Denki and Kirishima. Mina's face was dusty with a pink hue; you guessed she had probably had a few drinks before your arrival.

"You're just in time. We just sent Bakugou to get the shots!" she mentioned, looking past you towards the bar.

Bakugou. You felt like you remembered Kirishima mentioning him before.

"Here are your fucking drinks, assholes," you heard a deep, slightly raspy voice speak from behind you.

You turned and immediately faced someone's chest, holding a small tray of filled shot glasses and lime slices. Glancing up, you saw a man standing at a good six feet and three or four inches. His attention was focused on his friends, but he glanced down at you, and your eyes met.

Getting a better look at him, you noticed his very stocky build and his beautiful features. His eyes were a shade of red—not like blood, but the color you see during a sunset. His hair was blond and spiky but looked soft to the touch. You snuck a quick glance at his lips, which were soft and plump.

Bakugou's eyes had been latched onto yours since he faced you. Such a pretty, delicate face, he thought. His eyes ran up and down your body but quickly returned to Kirishima once he realized who you were.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Shitty Hair?" Bakugou's voice was loud but not louder than the music filling the bar. You glanced back at Mina, confused, and she gave you a cheeky smile.

Some hours later, after drinking with your friends, you found yourself sitting right next to Bakugou, practically on his lap due to the overstuffed booth. Mina took the time to explain that he was searching for a roommate and, since you were having trouble, you could move in with him instead of on your own. Hence, the orchestrated meeting.

You noticed his cedarwood smell, almost overwhelming your senses. You picked up on smaller notes of leather and coconut. The silence between you was a little awkward now that you both understood the situation. Your friends were having their own drunken conversations, but Mina was secretly peeping glances at you, hoping you and Bakugou would help each other out.

"I'm sorry Mina put you up to this. I didn't know," you decided to break the silence, speaking without facing him. If you turned, your faces would be inches apart. He side-eyed you, sitting with his body slightly leaned on the cushion of the shared booth. He scoffed.

"S'not your fuckin' fault. They put you up to this," his words sounded harsh, but his delivery was rather soft. From what Mina said about him before, he sounded like an overly aggressive guy.

"So, you're looking for a roommate?"

"Yeah, Shitty Hair decided to move out and in with Pinky," you chuckled at his nicknames for them.

"Yeah, no wonder that area is hard to afford on your own," you sighed, crossing your arms on the table.

"You looking for a place?"

"Kinda? I don't know. I got this job offer, but I don't think I can accept it if I don't find a place I can afford soon." You sounded worried, hoping it wasn't detectable in your voice.

"Hm," he gave a sound of acknowledgment. He watched you stand, his eyes running down your body again, this time much slower, drinking in your curves. He had been watching you all night, more like observing. Yes, he found you pretty, but meeting you was interesting to him. He didn’t know if it was because he hadn't felt a woman’s warmth for a year now and was craving it, or if he just liked the way you laughed with your friends and the way the dim lights made your skin glow.

"I'll be back," you said, the drinking giving you a buzz, and you couldn't stop yourself from overthinking again. Getting up from your seat, you squeezed past Bakugou, Denki, and Sero, heading to the door. You needed air.

Letting the nightly breeze hit your face, you pulled out your phone, thinking about calling your mom to vent your troubles. She and your dad had been away visiting family, letting you have the place to yourself. You couldn't bring yourself to tell them about the job before they left because you knew they would offer to pay for your place instantly, which was the last thing you wanted. So you settled for the cigarette in your purse that Sero had handed you earlier.

Lighting it, you inhaled and exhaled, hating the taste but finding it brought some comfort, like your worries were drifting away with the smoke.

"Disgusting habit," someone spit out. You turned to face them, instantly putting it out.

"Oh, I know. I don't smoke often, but this night called for one," you faced Bakugou, now out of the cramped bar. His figure stood a little taller and more comfortable. He walked up beside you, his scent hitting a little harder as the breeze carried it right to your nose. His clothes were black and casual, but you couldn't help but notice the tightness of his t-shirt.

Man, am I buzzed, you thought to yourself.

The silence now that you were alone was comforting. "If it's beating you up that fucking badly, I wouldn't mind," he said. You snapped your head towards him quickly.

"It would help both of us out," he continued. "You'd be saving me the trouble of finding some asshole roommate."

"Really...?" you searched his eyes for an answer. "You wouldn't mind?"

"How 'bout this: come look at the place with me now," he leaned close, his body looming above you. "And you let me know, princess."

Bakugou thought to himself, maybe he wouldn’t mind having a girl for a roommate. Regardless, he knew he certainly wouldn’t mind having you as one.

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Hope you enjoyed! Planning on releasing more parts soon <3

Btw lmk if you want to be added to the tag list :)

[bruisedboys]

congrats on 6k!!! loved the prompts lists you used soooo: sirius black + "you've got me flowers?" i think it would be cute if it was him being gifted the flowers BUT! totally up to you and your creative juicess

hi angel thank u for your request! loved this prompt for sirius!! join the celebration

rockstar!sirius black x fem!reader

Sirius knows you’ll be here soon, but he wishes he didn’t, because he feels a bit nauseous with the prospect of seeing you. You’ve never been to one of his shows before, this is your first. He’s worried you’ll hate it. Worried he’ll mess up his notes or trip over on stage and you’ll never want to see him again.

He’s thinking all this as he sits on a worn sofa backstage, plucking away at his guitar, practicing notes. Well, he’s not really practicing. He’s mostly just playing random chords with no rhyme or reason and thinking about you. He’s about to call you and maybe pretend the show is cancelled when the door opens.

“Hello!”

It’s you. Sirius looks up and finds you in the doorway looking so pretty and so excited to see him it hurts his chest. You’ve got on a lovely dress, and one of his leather jackets he leant you that you never gave back. Sirius thinks he actually might throw up.

“Hey, dove,” Remus says, happily leaning into your one armed hug. “You look nice.”

“Your boyfriend’s stressing,” James supplies unhelpfully, kissing your cheek in greeting.

You laugh and shove James’ curly head (he deserves it, Sirius thinks). Sirius watches, totally transfixed, as you cross the room and move towards him.

“Hi, Siri,” you say happily, coming to a stop in front of his knees. You give him a once over that makes him blush all the way up his neck. “You look killer.”

Sirius grins sheepishly and sets his guitar to the side. His face feels like it’s maybe on fire. You take his cheek in your lovely soft hand and bend at the waist for a kiss. Your perfume washes over Sirius and he thinks, I’m going to die. She’s going to kill me. But then you pull away, and he’s not dead, just very, very lovesick.

“It took me forever to find this place, it’s like, in the middle of nowhere,” you’re saying, apparently oblivious to Sirius’ weird mood. “Oh! I almost forgot-“

You reach into your tote and pull out something crinkly, holding it out to Sirius with a smile that could set him on fire.

“Here. They’re for you.”

Flowers. A huge bouquet of them in buttercup yellow and dusty pink, bursting out of cream tissue paper, tied with a lovely thick pink ribbon. Sirius blinks.

“You got me flowers?”

You giggle. “Well, yeah,” you say, like why wouldn’t I? “To say good luck. And I love you. And I’m so excited to see you play, I was listening to your stuff the whole drive here.”

Sirius thinks his heart bursts. What was he worrying about again? He takes the flowers from you, your fingers brushing his. “I— thank you, doll. That’s really sweet.”

You flush, clearly very pleased. “You’re always getting me flowers, aren’t you?”

“I suppose.” They’ve never seemed as significant as the ones you’ve just gotten him. These feel like pure gold in his hands.

“And I’m serious about being excited,” you say, flopping down onto the couch next to him, your hand moving to squeeze his knee. “You realise you’ve never looked more attractive, right?”

James laughs. Sirius chokes on air.

[kayentokk]

Hey :) How are you doing?

Okay so, i wanted to request a platonic father Aizawa in which he is out patroling and he finds his teen daughter doing something ilegal with her friends or something like that.

Please and thankss :)

A/N; I’m okay thanks for asking! Love this idea, I’ve gotten many requests somewhat related to this lately actually! I’ll be posting those throughout the week. Also sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this! 🥲 I truly believe Aizawa is a girl dad and a softie parent. 

Pairing; Platonic!Father Aizawa x Fem!Daughter Reader

Contains; a little ooc Aizawa, fluff, soft, drug mentions, reader is about 16-17 like mha characters, quirk-less reader, death mentions, bad friends, comfort

wc; 1,763

You weren’t supposed to get caught. In fact, you didn’t even think you would. It wasn’t a big deal anyways, you only did it because you thought it’d be a way to relax with your friends. Plus, if you guys did get caught your backup plan was your father. It wasn’t like he was going to detain you…right?

Wrong.

You were very wrong to believe that your father wouldn’t take you into custody over a little weed with your friends. You just wanted to have fun! Besides, you didn’t want to be the ‘perfect heroes daughter’ who’s a buzzkill. Why couldn’t he understand that? 

There was just so much pressure that came with being the child to a hero. Your friends already joked about how you were too ‘good’ to do anything remotely illegal. Which is part of the reason you were in this situation in the first place. 

Of course he just happened to be patrolling around the alley you and your friends decided to get a little high in. That was just your luck, he didn’t seem mad though. So you thought he’d just tell you guys not to do it anymore, and move on. Nope. Leave it to Aizawa to want to teach you a ‘lesson’ all of a sudden. He was normally just a “don’t do it again,” kind of parent. Mostly because you had never done anything of this caliber before.

“Did you really have to bring me in?”

Silence.

“I mean come on, none of the other heroes care. They’re too busy thinking about protecting the city, shouldn’t you be too? Nobody cares about a couple of kids getting a little buzzed, besides everyone does it nowadays-“

“That doesn’t make it okay y/n.”

You’ve rarely seen him like this, so tense. He didn’t look angry, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got that he was. It was almost….scary. 

So you resigned to a simple, “Okay, I’m sorry.” Were you really sorry though? Not that much, you still didn’t see the big deal. 

He let out a low grunt, “This is serious y/n, I know you think I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” well he said it first, “but you could’ve been seriously hurt.”

“Hurt? From getting a little high?”

“Criminals lace that stuff all the time, whether it’s with poison, more drugs, or whatever else they decide-“

“Yeah sure, but we got it from a trusted source-“

“And who’s that?” He said crossing his arms. 

Oops.

You decided it’d be best not to respond right now. Especially since the source wasn’t technically trusted, just another kid who got it from someone else. Who probably got it from someone else too.

Sensing your apprehension he decide to drop it, “we’ll revisit that later,” he said waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll drop you off at home, you’re grounded.” 

You internally groaned at that, grounded? That’s a new one, you were starting to really regret your decision. You should have just told your friends no, even if it meant being the ‘buzzkill.’ Then you remembered, your friends-

“What about my friends?”

“We’re working on calling their parents to come pick them up soon.”

“No!-“ you said sharply, “I-I mean, can’t you just let them off? Or something?”

“You know that’s not how this works, they are already getting off with a minor offense. The worst they’re going to get is their parents’ scolding.”

“Dad! You don’t understand-“

“I understand perfectly fine, a bunch of young kids wanted to ‘have fun’ and thought this was the best way to do it.”

Okay maybe he did understand, but not your side. He didn’t get that now you’d officially be the outcast, the top 10 ranked hero’s daughter who gets everyone in trouble. Does he get how embarrassing that is? 

“Come on, let’s get going.”

You stood from the chair leaving the comfort of being shielded, by the small desk separator, from your friends’ piercing gazes. They thought your dad would let you all off too considering the chaos the city’s currently in. 

You nervously waved and mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to them before rushing out the door trying to follow closely behind Aizawa. 

You guys didn’t speak the whole way home, you opted for silence mostly because it wasn’t that big of a deal and he just didn’t know what to say. You had never done anything like that before, or had he just never caught you? When did that start?

He remembered when you were little and you’d give your vegetables to stray animals so you didn’t have to eat them, or when you tried to sneak out at night and he caught you. But those were all pretty minor things, and he was only always concerned with your safety.

You’d never done anything this bad, and in terms of the worst thing you could do of course this wasn’t horrible but he still didn’t get why. It couldn’t have just been for fun.

He entered the house after unlocking the door and opening it for you. Before you could make it to your room, where you’d probably go to sulk, he decided he’d ask.

“Why did you want to do that y/n?”

You stopped and turned around to face him. He was standing in front of the door, and now that you actually took in his appearance he looked tired. His dark circles more prominent, eyes a light pink most likely from his quirk, and his black pants had small patches of dust that had been hastily patted off on them. 

You replied after a moment, briefly forgetting his question, “For fu-“

“And don’t just say for fun, because I know you and there are plenty of other things you would do for fun.”

You huffed resigning to just come out with it, “it was a bet.”

“A bet?”

“My friends bet me that I wouldn’t get high with them since I’m a hero’s daughter.”

“And you decided to take them up on that?”

“Yes, I know it was stupid okay?”

“I know you know, you’re smarter than that. So why’d you say yes?”

Why’d he have to be so persistent? “Maybe because I thought I’d finally get some friends.”

“What do you mean y/n? You do have friends.”

“No, I don’t. Momo, Tsu, and Uraraka only hang out with me out of pity, since you’re their teacher, if they even have time-“

“Pity? Y/n no they don’t, there’s nothing pitiful about you at all-“

You scoffed, “don’t lie. I get you’re my dad and all but be honest with yourself, truly honest.”

“I am being honest. I’d never lie-“

Guess you’d just have to spell it out for him then. “The only daughter you had killed your wife, was born quirk-less, and there’s nothing special about her!” You were shocked at the admission of your own feelings but kept going, “I don’t have a talent, I’m not exceptionally smart, I’m not breathtakingly pretty, and I can’t even make friends!” You listed raising a finger for each reason, “Now tell me what about that is not pitiful?”

After that question there was silence, and Aizawa was just looking at you. You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until the first tear slid down your nose crease and hit the corner of your lip. Before touching could even wipe your tear or register the sound of footsteps approaching you, you were being hugged. Fully covered by his arms, your head grazing the bottom of his chin where stubble had began to grow, face buried partially into his scarf. 

You heard high pitched wailing, which you hadn’t even registered was you until his hand began to rub up and down your back with quiet ‘shh’s to try calming you.  

“Don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, none of it okay?” He began whispering in your ear.

“Your mom and I both knew the challenges she’d have if she gave birth to you. We were well aware, and she wanted to have you. She didn’t care if she’d die in the process, you are our child.”

He continued comforting you, and when you eventually calmed down he let go and gently pulled your face out of his chest so you could look him in his tired, red eyes. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry if I don’t tell you that enough okay? It’s my fault I’m sorry. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’re perfect. I mean that, I’d never lie. You don’t need a quirk, to be super smart, or have a special talent. You’re perfect to me, okay? And that’s all that matters. You’re important to me,” he said firmly. 

“Okay?”

You sniffled, reaching a hand to wipe your nose, “okay.”

“Hey,” he said turning your face back to his, “I really mean it, I’d be no where without you. And how could you say you’re not beautiful? I know I’m not the best looking hero, but haven’t you seen the pictures of your mom? You take after her, gorgeous. Nothing I’d ever change about you, I don’t regret anything.”

“Okay,” you said slightly unused to him saying these things, “I’ve never heard you say something so corny dad,” you said chuckling trying to lighten the mood. 

At that, he gave a small grin which faded when he remembered your earlier point, “And Ochaco, Tsuyu, and Yaoyorozu do like being your friend. Not just because I’m their teacher, trust me I’m more of a supervisor if anything. I let them figure most stuff out on their own. They wanted to meet and hang out with you. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, you make friends just fine.” 

“I know, I know, it was just heat of the moment stuff dad.”

He let out a sigh of relief, hugged you once more, and pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

“I still have about another hour of night patrol, but I’ll stay here if you want me to?”

“No dad, it’s fine go.”

He looked at you once more as if saying, ‘are you sure?’ 

“Yes I’m sure I’m fine, it’s only an hour anyways.”

“Okay, call me if you need anything, I’ll be back soon,” he said headed towards the door.

“Okay,” you said starting to walk to your room. 

But just before he shut the door you dashed for it and started, “Hey! does this mean-“

“No you’re still grounded,” he said. 

And with that the door shut.

@/cafekitsune for the divider!

[pitchsidestories]

eras of us (2) II Ona Batlle x Reader

part 1 I masterlist I word count: 2662

a/n: the second and final part to eras of us with the promised happy ending, enjoy. <3

Barcelona had changed since Onas departure. Or at least it felt like it. She had been such an integral part of your daily life that you constantly found yourself longing for her presence in every situation. Every time you went to training, you were painfully reminded that you were without your best friend.

Time and time again, you tried to convince yourself that this was a decision that every football player would have to make at some point in their career. Still, you could not shake the weird mix of feelings that her transfer had created.

Of course, your team mates noticed that your mood had changed.

After a particular hard training in the Catalonian sun, Leila took you aside before you could disappear into the dressing room: “Ona… she misses you.“

You frowned at her, not sure where the conversation about Ona had come from. “Oh, sure. I think Ona seems very happy on the recent pictures she’s been posting.“, you replied and tried to push past Leila.

Mapi passed the two of you and gave you a wink: “Looks can be deceiving.“

“Listen to her. She’s got that tattooed.“, Leila grinned.

You rolled your eyes. As if anyone could miss the tattoo on Mapis throat.

“Yeah, I know what I’m talking about.“, Mapi laughed, stopping right next to you.

Shaking your head about your two team mates, you heaved a deep sigh: “But what am I supposed to do?“

A mischievous smirk appeared on Leilas face as she reached into the pocket of her warm-up jacket. She handed you a small envelope.

“No worries. Here is your ticket to Manchester and your return ticket to Barcelona.“

Speechless, you just stared at her and Mapi for a few seconds. How long had they planned that?

“You girls are insane!“, you finally exclaimed.

“No, we’re the best.“, Mapi corrected you.

“Thank you!“ You hugged both of them quickly, an inexplicable smile on your lips.

“Yeah, just remember to names us as team mates of the year.“, Leila joked.

You laughed: “I promise I will.“

“But now go before you miss your flight.“, Leila said, moving out of your way.

“Okay, got it. See you two soon!“, you called, hurrying into the dressing room to take a quick shower and race home to pack your suitcase.

“Good luck!“, Mapi shouted after you.

Smiling, Leila watched you disappear into the dressing room while wiping away an imaginary tear: “Our children grow up so fast.“

Alexia who had suddenly appeared next to Mapi, shook her head: “Leila, not all the gays in the team are your children.“

“It feels like they are.“

A few hours later you were at your best friend’s new home in England. Quickly you went up the stairs, feeling slightly breathless once you reached the right floor before you ringed the bell next to her surname plate.

Onas’s jaw dropped when she opened the door to her appartement in Manchester to see you standing there in flesh and bone:” Hello?”

“Oni, hi.”, you greeted her back, feeling your heart pound heavy against your chest at the familiar sight of her.

Still stunned she blinked: “You.”

“Yes, it’s me.”, you replied, running one hand through your hair, the other rested on the suitcase.

“What are you doing here?”, the defender furrowed her brows.

“I’m sorry how I reacted when you were saying you’d leave.”, you apologized, while looking guiltily down to your feet.

Hearing these words, Ona clenched her teeth:” It doesn’t matter.” But you could tell from her reaction that this was a lie.

“And Leila said you missed me.”, you added biting your lip as you spoke.

 “Maybe I did. You’re my best friend.”, she confessed. Lifting your head to face her again, you realized that the English weather made her look paler, but the freckles were still there.

Rather childish you responded: “Still? You seem pretty happy in Manchester now.”

Before answering your question, the United player showed you the old friendship bracelet you’ve made for her all those years ago and she was wearing even now although it did look old: “Still. And I’m happy here. The team and the coaches trust me.”

“That’s great. I’m glad they recognize your talent, you deserve it, Oni.”, you told her in an honest tone.

“Thank you. Uhm.. do you want to come in?”, Ona asked you, tousling shily through her bun.

“Sure.”, you nodded nervously while entering her appartement.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting a visitor.”, she blushed as you were taking in the view.

“It’s fine. Really.”, you reassured her. Glancing at the framed pictures which were not hanging up, yet you pointed to them:” Do you want to hang up the pictures?”

“Actually, yes.”

Meanwhile you were holding the first photo in your hands, you couldn’t help but to smile at the young girls which were pictured, celebrating a team win:” I love this one.”

“Oh, me too.”, the defender admitted.

“We all look so small on it, well Aitana still is.”, you commented grinning.

Seeming relaxed, Ona showed you another picture: “Yes, we do but this one is my favourite.”

You knew the photo well, it was taken after your first game for the Barcelona senior team and you spotted your best friend in the stands and went in to hug her, this moment forever being captured by the photographer on the pitch for which you were both grateful:” Mine too, you paused for a second before continuing seriously, we share a lot of memories together, hopefully to many more.”

2023

You could hardly explain to yourself how quickly the time had passed. One moment you spontaneously flew over to Manchester, the next you already found yourself in Australia at the tournament that you had anticipated for so long.

Playing in the World Cup was one thing, but you would never have dreamed of winning the trophy. It still felt surreal. You had just won the World Cup Final against England.You saw Ona walking towards you with a wide grin on her face.

“Ona, we won!“, you cheered.

She wrapped her arms around you: “We did.“

“I can’t believe it yet.“ You escaped her embrace and took in the atmosphere of the stadium and the celebration of your team mates.

Ona stood beside you. “It’s insane, right?“

“Definitely.“

The words hung between you for a few seconds as you watched on.

Ona shook her head suddenly, smiling to herself like she had just realized what had happened in the previous ninety minutes: “We’re World Champions.“

“Oh yes. Remember when…“, you started.

Aitana joined you, placing one arm around each of you and finished your sentence: “We pretended we won the World Cup? Yes.“ With smirk she added: “Do you still know the choreo?“

Onas face dropped: “You’re not going to do that at the actual World Cup!“

“Come on, Tana, we’ll do it.“, you said decisively, pulling the midfielder with you.

There was a small routine of dance moves that you had practiced when you had still played at La Masia together and the actual World Cup felt like millions of years away. Sometimes those dance moves would come out to celebrate a particularly special goal but mostly, they were reserved for exactly this moment.

“Coming!“, Aitana joined you while Ona just shook her head.

Olga elbowed the defender in the side, watching you and Aitana dance in synchrony: “Ona, what are they doing?“

“Being idiots.“, she laughed.

At the same time, Aitana managed to pull her phone from somewhere to capture the moment in a selfie.

“Come on, the photo isn’t complete without you!“, you called over to her.

Ona rolled her eyes with smile: “Ugh, fine. But only for one photo.“

“Perfect.“, Aitana commented as Ona appeared between the two of you.

“Did it turn out cute?“, Ona asked, leaning over to see her team mates phone screen.

“It did.“

The celebrations continued the whole night. There was the initial celebration at the pitch which was then moved to the dressing room and lastly to the hotel. You had no idea what time it was or how many drinks you had but you were clinking your glass with the other players and yelling over the sound of the music: “Cheers, everyone!“

“Cheers, children.“, Alexia laughed, taking her sip from her own drink. She seemed way too sober for your liking.

“Ale, others are the children now.“, you explained to her with the most seriousness you could muster.

Jenni took a shot, grimaced and then said: “You’re still our children.“

“Exactly, nothing will ever change that.“, Alexia said with a gently smile.

“That’s embarrassing.”, Onas’s cheeks turning redder than before.

You were sitting in her lap and hid your face in her chest:” Agreed.”

“What are you doing?”, your friend asked giggling.

“Hiding from embarrassment.”, you mumbled into her shirt.

“So cute.”, Jenni hummed, who didn’t stop looking at you two.

“Let us alone!”, Ona begged the older woman.

She shook her head decisively:” No.”

“Please.”, you tuned in.

Clearing her throat Alexia got up from her seat:” Jen, time to leave the young lovers alone.”

“Fine.”, Jenni responded with a groan but nonetheless listened to what the younger midfielder said.  

“Come on.”, the Barcelona player winked at the dark-haired woman.

For a moment you and your best friend watched them leaving, before you turned around to question her, wearing a mischievous smile on your lips:” What do we do now with them gone, Oni?”

“Celebrate?”, the defender replied grinning.

“Yes!”, you nodded excitedly.

“But you had enough to drink.”, she noted with a laugh.

“Rude!”, you protested.

“It’s true.”, Ona observed.

Smiling mildly at you Aitana came to help her argument:”It’s.”

“See?”

“You two are no fun.”, you grumbled.

“I mean it’s a once in a lifetime thing.”, Ona remarked as she watched you joining the rest of players who were still dancing despite the exhausting final.

Amused Aitana was taking a seat next to the defender:” How does y/n still have the energy to dance though.”

“It’s the alcohol.”, she replied with an eyeroll.

“Definitely. Wanna bet she’s sleepy in like ten minutes?”, the midfielder asked smiling.

“Oh definitely.”, Ona nodded. She couldn’t keep her eyes off you. The soon to be Barcelona player was astonished at how effortlessly and elegant your dance moves despite your tipsiness.

Aitana’s prediction turned out to be true. With a little bit of help from Ona you reached the hotel room you two were sharing. Your eyes were already closed when your head hit the pillow:” I’m not tired yet.”

“Oh sure, I can tell. Good night, y/n.”, she chuckled.

“You too, love you.”, you replied about to fall asleep.

Suddenly Onas’s heart felt pounding hard against her chest when the defender pressed a kiss on your forehead:” I love you too.” She often told you how much she loved you but this time the words hit differently. It dawned on the player that she didn’t want you like a best friend. No the woman felt the urge to be your lover.

2024

“Aitana, I fell in love with my best friend.”, Ona confessed to Aitana with a heavy air of meaning.

A small smile was forming on the midfielder’s lips: “I know.”

“What do you mean you know?”, she glanced at her confused.

“There were so many moments in the past.”, Aitana began.

Still shocked Ona interrupted her:” I only realized it during the world cup final.”       

“In that case you’re very late to the party.”, the friend answered, her face couldn’t hide her amusement.

Bewildered, Ona exclaimed: “Tana!“

The midfielder just shrugged casually: “It’s true.“

“Oh, is it?“, Ona raised an eyebrow at her.

“Ask Ale and Jenni… and Mapi… and Leila. You could literally ask anyone in the team.“, Aitana chuckled.

“It doesn’t matter anyway.“

Aitana eyed her team mate carefully: “It does matter.“

Ona shook her head with a deep sigh: “No, you don’t get it. She told Ale that she doesn’t fancy me and wouldn’t go for her best friend.“

“Wasn’t that forever ago?“, Aitana asked, seemingly unimpressed.

“It was after our training… I feel so stupid…“

“She didn’t have an easy time here when you were in Manchester, Ona.“

“It wasn’t easy for me either.“, the defender admitted.

Aitana looked at her thoughtfully: “Maybe it’s time to talk to each other.“

Ona was quite for a moment before she nodded: “You’re right. Y/n and I need to talk.“

“You should.“

She pulled her friend into a quick hug. “Goodbye, Tana.“

“Bye, Ona.“

Of course, you were paired with Ona to share a room at Barcelonas next away game. Something must have conspired against you. Or Alexia had a hand in this. Ona and you hadn’t exchanged a single word since Alexias intervention after training a few days ago.

Of course, the silence in the hotel room was obnoxious. But you had no interest in changing that.

Ona was the first one to give in, sitting on the bed on her side of the room: “Y/n, stop ignoring me, please.“

“Bold coming from the person who ran away.“, you retorted. You refused to even look at her and instead focused on putting away your clothes.

“I didn’t run away!“

Slowly, you turned to her: “Yes, you did. When Ale talked to me about us.“

You expected her to object but she just looked at you with pleading eyes: “Please, can you just listen to me?“

You sighed reluctantly: “Alright.“

“Thanks.“

“So?“, you prompted her impatiently as soon as she stopped talking.

“Y/n…“

“Yes?“

You could tell that Ona struggled to get the words out but the suspense was almost killing you.

“I like you.“, she finally said.

“More than a best friend?“, you asked, surprised by how hoarse your voice sounded.

“Yes.“, Ona nodded.

You shook your head. Your gaze directed towards the ground, you whispered: “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.“

Ona had gotten up from the bed and bridged the gap between you two. Her hand gently found your cheek, forcing you to meet her eyes. She was so close, you could count the freckles on her face.

“Can it really ruin our friendship if we both want it?“, she asked quietly.

You slowly shook your head: “No, probably not…“

“I think we should try it.“

For the first time, your brain was silent. There was no counterargument you could think of. There was just your heart hammering in your chest.

“Agreed.“, you breathed.

And before you knew it, your lips were on your best friends. Ona hummed into the kiss, pushing harder against you and parting your lips with her tongue.

It knocked you off balance. You landed on your bed, Ona on top of you. You both giggled but refused to remove your lips from each others.

“Oh. My. God. Finally!“, Mapis voice called out, startling you.

“Mapi!“, you yelled at the exact same time, looking at your team mate who had just stumbled into your room.

She flashed you an innocent grin: “Sorry.“

“What do you want anyway?“, Ona asked, a slight hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Uhm… I was about to tell you that we’re starting to have dinner?“ There was no sign of remorse on Mapis face, just pure amazement at what she had just walked into.

“We’ll be there soon.“, Ona replied politely.

“Just give us a few more seconds.“, you added.

Mapi smirked: “You two know that Ale will sense it immediately?“

Ona nodded: “We do.“

“That’s why we need time to prepare ourselves for it.“, you joked.

“Okay, See you later.“ She disappeared through the door with a wink.

The two of you were alone again.

Ona bit her lip to hide a smile: “We don’t need time to prepare ourselves, we need time to make out. That’s what you meant right?“

“Yeah, I did.“, you admitted with a laugh.

Dinner could wait. Kissing all of your girlfriends freckles could definitely not.