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theemporium · 4 months

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[3k] a f1 gossip page gets insider knowledge of what might be the paddock's best kept secret. in fact, it is so well kept that even the paddock don't know who it is about (aka a wee crack fic i couldn't get out of my head ft the papaya bunch).

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It was media day at the Barcelona Grand Prix when the rumours began.

Somewhere between team media duties and the official conferences, a group had found themselves lounging in the shared canteen. It was a neutral zone, the journalists weren’t allowed inside and it was just a place for most of the drivers to relax with their family and friends outside of the garages and motorhomes.

You were sat in the seat next to Lando, his arm sprawled over the back of your chair and his thigh pressing against yours with how close he was sitting beside you. He was looking over your shoulder, a giddy smile on his face as you went through a few of the shots he had taken on his camera that morning—including an obscene amount of ‘candid’ shots that you made him swear not to post anywhere, despite his reassurances you looked gorgeous.

It was a startled laugh from Daniel that caught everyone’s attention.

“There’s no fucking way!” Max laughed as he gaped at Daniel’s phone screen, shaking his head as he did. “Where the fuck do they get this from?!”

Daniel only laughed harder.

It took a few minutes before the Aussie finally turned his screen around and display the tweet for everyone to see. It took a few more minutes of snooping to find the article that followed the bizarre rumour.

“Alright, who’s gonna fess up?” Lando joked as his eyes glanced over all the drivers currently sprawled across the various tables. “My bet is on Carlos. He seems like the kinda guy to have a secret kid.”

“Shut up,” Carlos scoffed before he nodded to the boy on his right. “It would obviously be Charles.”

The Monegasque spluttered out a laugh, his cheeks heating up. “It’s not me!”

“That’s what someone who has a secret kid would say,” Max retorted, seeming to enjoy the way the Ferrari driver’s face began to match the colour of his shirt. “You can tell us the truth about Charlie Junior.”

“First of all, I would never name my child that,” Charles said with his nose scrunched up in displeasure. “And I wouldn’t hide my children. I would be proud of them.”

“They could be hiding the children for privacy's sake. A paddock isn't exactly the best place for a child to be roaming around. Or the safest,” another voice spoke up and everyone’s eyes fell to the younger Aussie sitting across the table from you. Oscar squirmed a little under the sudden attention. “What?”

“You wanna tell us something, mate?” Lando questioned, a grin growing on his face.

Oscar’s cheeks burned red. “I-It’s not about me!”

“You caught him,” Logan laughed as he playfully knocked his shoulder against his friend’s. “He has three kids back in Australia. Our lil’ Oscie is a father.”

Oscar frowned. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

“I’m offended you didn’t tell us,” you joked as you knocked your foot against his shin under the table. “I expected to be the godmother of one of your kids.”

“You would be if I had any,” Oscar quickly countered, making you snort in response.

“Well, we have some clues,” Daniel commented as he leaned back in his chair, looking far too amused with the situation. “Time to start going through possible suspects.”

“Maybe you’re trying to throw us off your scent,” you joked.

“Shhh, sweetheart, they can’t know about our secret family just yet,” the Aussie teased as he sent a wink your way.

You felt an arm tighten around you and turned to see Lando glaring—albeit, jokingly—towards his former teammate. “Back off, Ricciardo, if anyone is gonna have a secret family with her, it’s gonna be me.”

Daniel laughed. “Please, the two of you couldn’t keep a secret from us if you tried!”

“Uh, we so could,” you retorted.

“You two couldn’t even keep Oscar’s surprise birthday party a secret and it was your idea,” Logan pointed out, raising his hands in mock surrender when your head snapped around to look at him.

“We got excited!” You defended.

“And you don’t think you would be excited about a secret family?” Oscar countered.

“I think we could hide a secret pretty damn well if we tried,” you replied with a shrug as you leaned further back into your boyfriend’s embrace.

“Especially as something as serious as a secret family,” Lando added with a nod.

“Who cares?” Max eventually said with a laugh. “The rumour is a load of bullshit anyways. There’s no way anyone is going to believe it.”

As it would turn out, the whole world believed the rumours. The rest of the race weekend was haunted by the ‘new’ piece of gossip. The paddock was full of whispers of ‘who?’, the journalists thought they were being sly as they snuck in a few questions to catch the drivers off guard, and hundreds of fan theories took over every social media platform as the weekend commenced.

Truthfully, you thought it would be one of those rumours that dragged on for a bit as a joke but died down by the next weekend.

You were very wrong.

...

You didn’t realise how wrong you were until the Austrian Grand Prix came about the following weekend.

With both McLaren drivers wrapped up in some nonsense challenge video the media team had set them up for, you had made your way towards the Williams garage to spend your Thursday afternoon with them instead.

There was a cosy spot in the garage where you found yourself sat with Logan and Alex as the team buzzed around them, whispers and talks of the car’s potential that weekend. You were laying back in your seat, your feet thrown over Logan’s lap as you chatted away to Alex when the American caught both of your attention.

“There’s two!”

Logan lifted his head to find two matching confused expressions staring right back at him.

“There’s two,” he repeated as he turned his phone around, a single tweet sprawled over his screen with an all too familiar username on display. “Two kids! A driver is hiding two kids!”

You snorted. “You have got to be shitting me. One rumoured kid wasn’t enough so they added another?”

“This driver has certainly been busy,” Alex mused as he took Logan’s outstretched phone, beginning to scroll through the never-ending comments under the tweet. “I guess the long term girlfriend thing does kinda narrow it down.”

You raised your brows. “Don’t tell me you think it’s real.”

“I still have my bets on Oscar,” Logan commented with a grin, his eyes crinkling in the way you knew they did before the boy laughed. “He’s a dodgy guy. I bet he’s Formula One’s own Hannah Montana with a whole double life.”

“And, what? We are a part of his famous life?” You questioned.

“It would make sense,” Alex supplied with a shrug. “He could have a normal family back home in Australia and no one would even know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Alex, don’t encourage him.”

“Hey,” Logan frowned.

“If it turns out to be true, you wouldn’t be upset that your best friend hid something like that from you?” You retorted, watching as the boy’s face slowly fell.

Alex snorted.

“I need to go talk to….someone about…something,” Logan said vaguely before he quickly stood up, knocking your feet off his lap and rushing out the garage with a serious look on his face.

“Logan!” You called after him, laughing as you did so but it was a hopeless endeavour. He was a man on a mission and you knew nothing would stop him. “God, I should go before he ambushes the McLaren motorhome.”

“Life as a parent, huh?” Alex joked, nudging your shoulder and snickering when you rolled your eyes.

“Who would have thought I would end up adopting an American of all people?” You joked back before standing up. “Time to go stop my eagle son from throttling my kangaroo son.”

Alex flashed you a smile. “Motherhood suits you.”

“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes.

And little did you realise there was a certain pair of ears listening in to your playful conversation with the Williams driver, already drafting up a message before you left for the bright orange building a few garages down.

...

It was odd for you and Lando to find any alone time during a race weekend and it was mostly due to the two rookie drivers you had somehow adopted.

It started off as a comfort thing at first. Lando knew what it was like to be young and new to the sport. He knew that even if he was coming in with friends, it still felt daunting. It was the reason he seemed to take Oscar under his wings after the Bahrain race weekend, despite the boy’s initial awkwardness.

It had been you who gravitated towards Logan. Your heart warmed at the sight of your boyfriend helping out his younger teammate, but it completely shattered when you were making your way towards the McLaren garage and spotted a certain blond rookie hidden between motorhomes. He almost looked as though he was trying to make himself seem as small as possible.

Lando didn’t question it when you started to venture to the Williams garages in between practices and media duties. He saw the look in your eyes, the small spark that showed your determination. He knew your kindness knew no limits and he would never even try to stop you.

Neither of you realised you were signing up for the roles of the 2023 rookies’ grid parents until Logan and Oscar had sauntered into Lando’s driver room and all but settled themselves between you both on the Thursday of the Baku Grand Prix.

You didn’t mind it, really. Race weekends tended to be hectic and chaotic on their own, so it was rare that you and Lando would spend much time alone. Beyond the exasperated sighs and joking remarks, neither of you minded when Oscar would lay his head on your laps after a gruelling interview or when Logan would ramble about some American custom he swears all three of you would enjoy.

It was odd not being the youngest ones on the grid anymore, but there was also something so comforting in knowing you were a safe haven for these two boys in the paddock—and sometimes, even off the track.

So honestly, it was an utter fucking shock that you and Lando found yourselves alone with time to kill in his driver’s room, especially with it being the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend.

Neither of you questioned your luck for very long before you found yourself straddling your boyfriend, knees on either side of his hips and ass firmly planted on his lap. His hands were shamelessly groping your ass. Your hands were tangled in his curls, tugging a little harsher than usual just to hear his little whimpers in between kisses. It was shameless and sloppy and a little more than either of you intended—but you didn’t have a single issue with it.

“Shit,” Lando moaned, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual when your lips met his neck. “I fuckin’ missed this.”

“Yeah?” You murmured against his skin, your tongue dancing along a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear. “I missed hearing how pretty you sound.”

“You can’t say stuff like that,” Lando grumbled, his eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you closer, as he pressed his body against yours.

“But it makes you blush and you look so cute when you blush,” you teased as you lifted your head, admiring the pink tint to his cheeks. “My pretty boy.”

“You’re a tease,” Lando muttered as he sat up on the couch, as he pulled you closer so he could press his lips against yours again.

“You love it,” you retorted, the words mumbled in between kisses.

“So fucking much,” he grinned into the kiss, his hands wandering down your thighs before slowly moving back up to your ass.

In fact, it had been so long since you and Lando got a chance to utilise your time alone in the paddock that you forgot the first rule of making out like horny teens on the small couch—lock the fucking door.

“HOW COULD YOU—OH MY GOD, MY EYES!”

“GROSS! WE DID NOT NEED TO SEE BABY NUMBER THREE BEING MADE!”

If it weren’t for the tight hold Lando had on you, you would have been flat on your ass when Logan and Oscar stormed into the room. You stared at the boys in shock, your cheeks heating up as the mortification of the situation washed over all four of you.

You quickly moved yourself off Lando’s lap, instead sitting on the couch beside him as you stared at the two rookies who currently had their hands over each other’s eyes.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?!” Lando sighed.

“Have you ever heard of a door lock?” Oscar retorted.

“Touche,” he muttered back with a nod.

“You know you can look now,” you told the boys, a little amused with their theatrics. “We aren’t naked.”

Logan hesitated. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Both boys slowly dropped their hands and, truthfully, you were expecting for them to instantly break out into whatever excited ramble they had come to tell you both. It wasn’t unusual for them to do as much, to want to share something with you and Lando that amazed them but didn’t want to admit to anybody else in fear of seeming like…well, rookies. They knew you and Lando would never judge their excitement to the world of Formula One and all the little quirks they were discovering.

Except, there was no excited storytelling or massive grins. Instead, both boys stood in front of you with frowns on their faces and their hands on their hips.

Lando’s brows furrowed together. “What? What happened?”

“Why did you two not tell us we are older brothers?” Logan asked bluntly.

You blinked. “Huh?”

“Why did you not tell us we are older brothers?” This time it was Oscar who spoke up. “Why are you gatekeeping our little brothers from us?”

Lando frowned. “Is this a joke? Is that a punchline? Am I being stupid right now?”

“We get the others on the grid but us? This is a new level of betrayal,” Logan said with a completely serious look on his face.

You shook your head, utterly baffled by the two boys. “What the fuck are you guys on about?”

“You have been hiding a secret family from us! You are the ones the tweets are talking about!” Oscar said as he reached for his phone, turning the screen around so you both could see the latest article.

“WHAT?!”

“You have been keeping a secret from us. Families don’t keep secrets!” Logan accused, his eyes narrowed slightly. “If we even count as your family now.”

You gaped at them. “You seriously think that article is about us?”

“There’s proof!” Oscar retorted.

“What fucking proof?” Lando questioned, his brows furrowed together in confusion. “How can there be proof for a family that doesn’t exist?”

As it would turn out, the informant that had been feeding the gossip page the whole narrative had been also secretly recording conversations they had heard around the paddock. Along with the article, a series of 'leaked' audios were also released and they were, in fact, yours and Lando’s voice.

This person had managed to record countless conversations you shared with Lando and even some other drivers—even the conversation you had with Alex the previous weekend in the Williams garage.

“Remember we have dinner with the boys tonight. Our reservations are at six.”

“Did you remind them to put sunscreen on before they went out? I don’t want them to burn.”

“Who knew being a parent was so hard, huh?”

“Your son is bullying my son for his accent again. Make him stop or you’re both getting grounded.”

“Well, he definitely takes after you!”

Random lines of conversations taken completely out of context and, truthfully, you could understand why Twitter was going crazy. It seemed undoubtable that you and Lando were talking about your kids, it sounded like you truly were two parents discussing your children—if it weren’t for one large and missing piece of information.

“We were talking about you two, dumbasses!”

Both boys stared at you, blinking a few times. “Huh?”

“We are talking about the both of you in every single one of those clips,” you told them and you couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. “There is no secret family—just you two.”

“Oh,” Oscar murmured.

“But—oh,” Logan muttered a few seconds later.

“So this whole rumour started because somebody thought we were talking about actual kids,” Lando noted before snorting. “Fucking hell.”

“Everyone thinks you’re a dad,” you remarked with a laugh. “The boy who has one piece of tupperware that’s hanging on for dear life.”

Lando grinned back. “Well, I may not be a dad but I am a—”

“If you call yourself daddy, I am breaking up with you.”

Lando only laughed harder.

“So…you don’t have secret siblings you’re hiding from us?” Logan piped up, a shy smile on his face.

You shook your head.

“Oh thank god,” he breathed out, pressing a hand on his chest. “I knew you wouldn’t betray us like that! We would obviously be the first ones you tell, right?” There was a pause. “Right?”

“Well, we walked in on them almost conceiving a child,” Oscar pointed out with a shrug before his nose scrunched up in disgust. “Please don’t conceive our little sibling in front of us.”

“You were the ones that stormed in on us,” Lando retorted.

“Still.”

“Well, consider this your warning to get out in the next thirty seconds, otherwise you’re gonna see something that will really scar you—”

Your cheeks burned. “Lando!”

“What?” Lando flashed you a cheeky grin. “If they are gonna make up rumours about me being a dad, I may as well start practising for the real deal.”

You rolled your eyes.

...

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 354,762 others

landonorris does this mean i officially get the dilf status?

view all 15,866 comments

user aww cute!

user WAIT THIS IS WHO THE RUMOUR WAS ABOUT

user lando needs to pull a carlisle cullen and adopt me into the family

yourusername in my humble opinion, i think dilf suits you perfectly ;)

oscarpiastri ew

yourusername you're too young to be on instagram

logansargeant and you are too old to sexting on instagram

yourusername you're grounded

user I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS

user okay but the photos are actually so cute wtf

user THEY BECAME GRID PARENTS INSTEAD OF ACTUAL PARENTS

maxverstappen1 they had to start somewhere

danielricciardo i'm just happy the safe sex talk we gave lando actually worked. got worried for a second

yourusername you were just scared you would become a grid grandpa

danielricciardo GRANDPA???

user nothing will ever beat this rumour

user THE FACT PEOPLE ACTUALLY THOUGHT HE HAD A KID

user TWO KIDS

user FAMILY JPEG ACCOUNT WHEN

landonorris 👀👀👀

#lando norris #formula one #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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meangirls-imagines · 2 months

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Regina's Protector

WARNINGS: none, fluff, a lil violence (you slap cady), protective reader

cady heron.

the bane of y/n y/l/n's existence.

you see, y/n had a reputation for being nice and friendly to everyone at north shore. that's why she balanced her girlfriend regina out so well. regina was the fire and y/n was the ice. the two had started dating early in their freshman year and quickly became the school's power couple.

the two were very protective of each other, regina lashing out more than y/n most of the time, but there had been a few of times that everyone witnessed just how protective y/n can be. (just ask shane or aaron or jake).

enter cady heron. the new girl of junior year. this is where things take a turn.

y/n had a bad feeling about the redhead the first time she met her. especially when she caught a glimpse of her hanging out with janis. the bad feeling increased the first day they were in class together and cady began staring at her with heart eyes.

regina knew y/n wouldn't cheat on her. they were obsessed with each other, but the more cady hang out with their group, the more she noticed cady staring at her girlfriend. maybe y/n was right about this bad feeling about the girl. but, regina couldn't jump to conclusions just yet, she wanted to wait it out.

well, waiting it out was an awful idea on regina's part.

shit went downhill very, very quickly.

after cady continued to send heart eyes to y/n, regina had enough and became extra possessive of her girlfriend. cady wasn't backing down however, becoming more of a bitch as the days went on. she began to say sly remarks to y/n about regina, like how she was only with y/n for popularity and status.

then the comments got bitchier.

"you know, i thought i saw regina getting a little too close to shane again, you might wanna check your girlfriend, y/n."

"i heard regina is going around gloating about how she's only using you for sex."

y/n was a very small strike away from snapping. she knew the comments were affecting regina more than she let on and the fact that cady continued to make them, pissed y/n off to another degree. the day that y/n snapped, no one was expecting it.

y/n's friend chris was throwing a party at his house so her and regina were going together. it was a pool party so regina made sure to pick y/n's favorite of her bikinis to show off to her girlfriend. when they got to the party, they found karen, gretchen, and unfortunately cady. y/n set off to get her and regina drinks, kissing the girl softly before beginning her search.

after getting herself a beer and regina something fruity, she turned and saw cady looking at her, biting her lip. "can i help you with something cady?" the redhead shook her head. "just wanted to talk. you look really hot y/n."

y/n rolled her eyes and set back to find her girlfriend. cady followed after the girl. "why are you with regina? you could do so much better than her." y/n stopped in her tracks, turning to cady. "excuse me?" cady shrugged. "i mean, you could go for someone skinnier, i see regina has put on a few extra pounds lately."

the next few seconds happened very quickly.

the drinks were dropped and y/n slapped cady right across the face. she began to spew off insults at the redhead. luckily, chris was near by and pulled y/n away before more damage could be done.

kicking cady out, he led y/n back to where the plastics were sunbathing, explaining what happened while making y/n sit on regina's sun lounger. the blonde immediately pulled y/n closer to her, rubbing her back in an effort to calm her down.

karen and gretchen joined in on the hug, y/n smiling at the two. chris walked off, allowing the girls to have some privacy.

regina and y/n decided to leave shortly after, regina wanting to get y/n to destress. karen and gretchen hugged the two, promising to be over later and the couple left.

once back at regina's house, the blonde changed into comfier clothes, pulling some out for y/n. the girl took them, pecked regina on the lips and went to change. the two laid in bed, netflix playing gently in the background. regina leaned up to kiss y/n's cheek.

"thank you for standing up for me baby. i appreciate it." y/n kissed the blonde's forehead, rubbing her arm. "of course baby. i wasn't going to let her talk about you like that." regina smiled and softly kissed y/n. "i'm so glad i have you baby." y/n smiled. "well, you'll have me for a very long time then baby. i don't plan on going anywhere."

regina smirked. "good. i intend on keeping you forever."

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024

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harunovella · 1 month

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse vi); s.g.

synopsis: you and gojo share your"first" kiss... and maybe, you become something more? content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, first kisses, absolute softness!!! not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another one shot for my gojo anthology series! thank u all for the love on this series!! wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!

There was no lie in saying Gojo Satoru had consumed your thoughts. It was quite the recent development, seeing as he was an enigma that sort of manifested into your life. One day, you were living your apprentice life, exploring your technique, honing and developing it... then the next, this myth of a (young) man appeared before your eyes. Like an angel that fell from the sky and right into your palm. You just had no idea that he was wrapped around your finger.

Maybe it was because you were oblivious, unaware of the subtle (but were they really subtle?) messages he sent your way. If you had known Gojo Satoru well enough, you would've known that this was very unlike him. Sparing his time for someone else? Giving them his all? Focusing on them more than himself? Practically going brain dead around them unlike the usual cocky persona he carried around. Surely it scared him, falling deeply for someone just at the simple sight of them... but, for you? You just thought it was the universe working its magic. Bringing someone new into your life to develop a bond with. That was it, right?

Just another somebody to call your friend.

However, Gojo Satoru wasn't just any somebody. He was the honored one, the strongest (he'd eventually learn this). He was the Gojo Satoru. The once in a life time (well, thousand years) creation formed by the gods themselves.

He was the man who fell head over heels for you when he laid his eyes on you for the very first time. Stumbled over his words before you. Unable to process a single thought when he gazed into your eyes. Rescued a cat you found in a tree that you named after his favorite treat (and the nickname he had for you), Mochi. Kissed you at Utahime's birthday party during a game of spin the bottle where both of you were tipsy—a moment he would never forget, but you sadly had. A moment that slipped through the cracks of your brain, a moment that would eventually get replaced by a memorable moment.

It had become routine for you, spending your mornings in lessons with Nanami and Haibara. Then, you'd spend mid day with Shoko, following her like a shadow as her junior. Go on the occasional mission, take down curses, squeeze in snack breaks with your dear classmates, go out in the evening for dinner... and somehow, along your schedule, Gojo would make his appearance. You could never foresee it, he would pop up out of nowhere. If it wasn't teasing Kento, or bugging Shoko for her secret snack stash, he'd show up to your favorite dinner spot you shared with the girls (this almost always irritating Utahime because he ruined girls night). Gojo never cared, at this point he showed up wherever knowing (hoping) you'd be there. Always settling himself next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, sneaking a milk box onto your lap or even sharing his treat of the hour. He never shared his sweets with anyone. You were the exception.

"I got these lil gummies next to that arcade you frequent with Yu," Satoru said as the two of you sat under your (now his, too) favorite tree. The gorgeous cherry blossom in full bloom as spring had made its way around. You almost always had a blanket set, one of your books settled to the side, bookmark slipped into the part you last read. Your iPod nestled between you and Satoru, sharing each earbud as you listened to the current track that came on. Gojo, in his infamous wisdom, was the one who found programs to download music for free, an endless catalogue filling the memory of the rectangular device. Unlike it being yours, it was now his, too. You didn't mind. You liked sharing. You liked having these gentle moments with the overly energetic Gojo Satoru. These were the only moments he sat still, only with you. Just for you.

Always for you.

It was the little things that started adding up. It took you a minute to realize, longer than Satoru had hoped—but he was patient. He was obvious, made it clear that his feelings for you were there, he just hoped you'd piece the puzzle together. He had hoped you'd feel the same. How couldn't you when you looked so happy around him? When you said things reminded you of him. When you bought him little sweets you knew he'd love. When certain songs he loved, you'd learn the lyrics to. Just as you started noticing the (obvious) little things he did for you, he started noticing the same for you. Except, for you, it was coming out naturally. Nothing planned, nothing decided in advance, it just happened. It always just happens and it makes Satoru's heart beat faster and faster. Faster than it did before.

"You like 'em?" He asked, popping another gummy in his mouth as you chewed, nodding happily with the cutest smile of pure content. "I'm glad! Take some more!" He offered, waving the decorative bag of bright colors and little cartoons.

Letting out a small laugh, you took a couple more, waving your free hand, gesturing for him to take the rest as you popped them in your mouth. The fruity flavors filling your senses with pure bliss as you looked off to the open grounds of the school before you. The gentle breeze pushing through, strands of your hair fluttering against your face as they slipped from your ponytail. Gojo leaned against the tree, a knee propped as he rested his wrist against it, holding the baggie while his other tossed more gummies into his mouth. It was quiet. It was peaceful. Nothing but the music in one ear and the soft sounds of nature in the other.

"Oh, I love this song!" You perked up as a song ended and another started, looking at Satoru with a bright grin.

"Didn't I show you this one?" He asked, pushing his round glasses atop his head, smiling with you as you stood up.

"Mhm! I've been listening to it on repeat!" Grabbing the bag of gummies from his hand and settling it down, you took his hands and pulled him to his feet with a faint grunt. Sometimes you'd forget just how giant Satoru was since he loved to make himself seem so small when he was with you. "The music video is so cute! I kinda learned the dance."

"Really?" He chuckled as you guided him.

"Yes, remember you said you learned it after a few watches?" You asked as he nodded. "Let's dance it together!"

"Okay!" The white haired young man blushed, though a wide grin still was plastered on his face. He may have been a goofball, but Satoru did not have two left feet. He actually was quite skilled, and having him sing along with you made your heart flutter as you so casually danced around your shared tree.

It felt as if it was just the two of you, singing, dancing and entangling yourselves with the earphones, laughing and gazing at one another. As if there was nobody else in the world. As if it was just Mother Nature gazing upon two souls intertwining. All in what felt like slow motion, a scene right out of a movie. Your hand in his, his other on your lower back as your free one settled on his shoulder. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, and neither could he from yours.

Maybe it was a moment of vulnerability—or, rather courage—but your hand gently found its way to the back of his neck, fingers gently carding through his soft locks. The gentle feel of his undercut tickling underneath your palm, sending shivers down either of your spines. The softness in Gojo's eyes faded as you gently tugged him towards you. Growing in shock as your own fluttered closed. Gentle lips meeting in the middle as his plump ones met your lightly tinted own.

His heart was racing, faster than it had that night of Utahime's birthday. Maybe it was because both of you were 100% aware, or maybe it was because it was happening again but away from others, in your own shared comfort zone.

Feeling you pull away, Gojo instantly placed his hands on your hips, engulfing you in his arms as he kept you close. Kissing you, once sweetly turning deep. He didn't want this to end, didn't want it to be forgotten. His lips moved against your own, testing the waters. Nerves fading away, anxieties melting at how right this felt. You were his first, and he was going to make sure you were going to be his only. He didn't want anyone else. No one but you.

And you, after months of being oblivious and unaware, to months of development and realization, wanted him the same. Only him and no one else. Just Gojo Satoru.

Gently pulling back and resting his forehead against yours, a sigh of relief left his lips. "You beat me to it."

"It felt like the right moment," you softly spoke.

"Then I guess this is the right moment..." Gojo trailed.

"For what?" You curiously asked.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose @mandysfanfics @pinksaiyans @peqch-pie @pinksaiyans @silentmajesticfox @r0ckst4rjk @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @stinkysposts @lupitalove (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)

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ashtxrie · 2 months

Text

oh no... am i falling in love? (sunoo)

PAIR. high school!sunoo x gn!reader GENRE. fake dating au, high school au, best friends to lovers, fluff WORD COUNT. 2.2k WARNINGS. none! NOTES. first post kinda nervous!! <//3 i need a sunoo irl he is truly the greenest of green flags

you and sunoo are those friends

you’ve got that type of friendship where something clicked and suddenly you were both attached at the hip for years

because apparently having the same clear muji pencil case with the holy grail 0.5 black muji pen at the beginning of middle school meant best friends ride or die in seventh-grade culture

like, someone who prioritized aesthetics in notetaking as much as you did? even in the confines of this crusty campus? crazy.

but anyway, with you being absolutely intent on making friends, sunoo couldn’t get rid of you if he tried but pls he could never survive without you anyway... who else would he trust enough to exchange his top-tier notes with?

and since then you’ve both been best friends for life! well, ever since the +6 with the introduction of sunoo's other friends [read: the rest of enhypen...]

and at first you were super happy because new friends!

but then they kind of stopped hanging out with you in the middle of sophomore year or so and went off into their own little world

and you were a little sad

ok maybe a lot sad. devastated, even.

but that was okay because that meant you were able to meet new friends and expand your horizons! you even got the chance to focus on yourself and join some new clubs, too!

who even is sunoo anymore lmao you don’t know him

but anyway

it was junior year and you were so tired of your friends bugging you to get a s/o

“[name], why don’t you date someone?”

“you’d really hit it off with so and so, don’t you think?”

“just put yourself out there”

ರ_ರ

ayo... excuse me

so one day you just can’t take it anymore

and maybe you should’ve thought this through but... nope

you don’t pause to think things through

because life is for living in the moment hell yes yolo gang

“umm guys i’m already dating someone!”

needless to say your friends go INSANE

like who tf is [name] gatekeeping from us they’re so fake /j

so like any sane and mentally adept person, you say the first name that comes to mind

“hahaha … sunoo!”

your friends stare at you. flabbergasted, shocked, stunned beyond words.

blink blink

“but … weren’t you guys just friends”

“NO”

you’re panicking but

trust

“we’re in LOVE”

ur friends are really like ok whatever, but go off

and that is how you find yourself dragging yourself over to sunoo's fifth period and placing your hands on sunoo's shoulders

“promise me you won’t freak out”

and ofc sunoo is already freaking out

bc why are you standing in front of the ap lang classroom with this crazily determined face and forcing him to listen to you

and this is how you get into this situation

with sunoo having a literal double take and you doing your best "pls help me out i beg of you" impression

“i can’t DATE you”

what

you give sunoo your best professional face even though inside you’re ???

bc um is it that bad to date you??

you are confused???

you’ve saved sunoo thousands of times in his high school career in both academics and social standing he can afford to pretend to date you ONCE

“WHY NOT”

“BECAUSE”

...

is he being fr rn

obviously you’re not getting anywhere and you turn around to walk away, kind of annoyed

“fine then, i’ll just find someone else to date me.” shrug (dies inside).

as soon as you say that, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch and suddenly sunoo is very concerned and almost a little upset

and when you don’t notice him contemplating something, he runs in front of you and nearly knocks you over

“second thoughts?”

sunoo scowls

although it looks more like a lil pout pushing at his lips and he crosses his arms

lmao who is this and what’s happened to sunoo

you shrug and start to leave for real until sunoo reaches out to tug at your arm

“NO, NO WAIT … I’LL DO IT”

you whirl around immediately and you are needless to say, very relieved!

｡◕‿◕｡

“perfect!”

but apparently sunoo hasn’t recovered from his fall from before

bc he can’t stop rubbing his hand against his neck and his face is all blotchy and pink

kinda cute, but in a best friends way. like wowie my best friend looks kinda adorable look at that boy go

but ofc sunoo has to ruin the special moment because he offhandedly says, “shouldn’t we have rules or something?”

rules???

RULES???

this is fake dating sunoo wdyfm rules? that's so silly goofy

“huh?”

“like … things not to do? maybe one big rule is not ruining our friendship???”

ʘ‿ʘ

he kinda smart for that

“ok easy then, just don’t fall in love with me”

apparently this is the WRONG thing to say?

sunoo is RED like boy is not pink anymore his cheeks are burning red

“you can’t just say that?”

????

you are confused bc what does that even mean

“why not?”

“that’s like ... y-you you can’t just say that.”

you are, if possible, even more confused?

“okay and?”

sunoo blinks

pls this boy has the audacity to just shrug

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

u are dumb af sunoo bout to throw hands here

but he won’t bc he loves u <3

so fifteen minutes later you guys decide to make three big rules

sunoo had a whole list of like twenty but you narrowed it down to these:

1. don’t ruin ur friendship

2. no kissing

3. and ur paying for three rounds of mint choco ice cream after this is over

honestly you think this is kinda rude considering sunoo is richer than ur entire life but whatever, at least he’s not leaving you out to the wolves

so when it’s finally time to put this fake dating thing to the test, you tug sunoo over to your side of the table during lunch and make sure to swing his hand

which actually feels kind of nice??

like you’ve never actually thought about this before

but sunoo is comforting

his hand fits right in yours, and he’s so warm

and i mean haha it’s not like this is a new thing, you two hold hands all the time!! but adjkaldjkfl not in a dating way

ur friends are shocked. bamboozled.

like they never thought you’d actually show up with a DATE

and bc they’re all RUDE they grill sunoo

but sunoo is best boy

best bf

and answers all their questions like a pro

that's my man

i mean what???

ur so proud

you let ur head rest against sunoo's shoulder and BITCH

sunoo presses a kiss to ur forehead

YO........................ insane.

why are u so happy? what is this??

it’s just so gentle and soft and you feel your heart getting all mushy and warm

your friends all give a big collective aww because one, they’re annoying af and yes y’all are cute cute and this is cute

but ur going through some existential crisis

and later when you’re walking with sunoo to all your classes, you can’t stop thinking that hey, this fakedating thing isn’t that bad

but whatever it’s just cause u miss spending time with sunoo!

yes, that’s it!

you’re just sad that sunoo always hangs out with his new group and you don’t get to see him as much

so this is nice!

you’re just going through some bff nostalgia rn... it's just gonna take some time for [name].exe to start working again

anyway now bc of this fakedating thing, you and sunoo just spend so much time together

like you guys have always been best friends, but this feels different

sunoo will run over to you when he sees you and wrap his arms around your waist

the first time he did it, he had the cuteness to go “is this okay? are you okay? is this too much?"

and YOUR HEART WENT !!!!!

you might’ve blushed

okay you did

but you convince yourself it’s just because ur touch starved and bitchless

c’mon... get it together

but whenever you call sunoo and wave at him, his face just LIGHTS up

and you’re pretty sure yours does too

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

needless to say, you kinda don’t want this all to end

because somewhere in the middle of all this, your head has gone from calling sunoo your fake boyfriend to your real boyfriend

and you don’t really want to go back to just being friends if you’re honest

wait hold up

uh oh

UH OH CODE RED

INTERPOL INTERPOL.....

did you just admit you liked sunoo?? in a FOR REALS way?

UMMMMM

so like the only way you know how to deal with things, you avoid it!

you start to act really distant

and now whenever sunoo wraps his arms around you, you stiffen up

and sunoo like the angel he is pulls away so quickly bc ?? is his best friend upset? uncomfortable?

did HE make his best friend for life, his 4lifer, uncomfortable? omg this isn’t ok what is happening

everyone can tell something is up

ofc they can, what with you going to the extent of running away whenever you see sunoo and sunoo reacting like the entire light got blown out his life

and bffr sunoo may be innocent but he ISN'T dumb

he knows your schedule he KNOWS you’re ignoring him

and baby is upset

because lately you’ve been starting to feel a lot more to him

and now you’re just gone??

that’s not okay and sunoo isn’t just gonna sit around and be sad

if there’s something he can do he’s gonna do all he can to try to fix it!

he corners you one day and holds up an angry piece of paper

“excuse me but you broke rule number one which is, in case you forgot, don’t RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP”

“oh haha uh sunoo! hi uhh i gotta go 👉👉 ”

sunoo's face falls

and that was it

you just wanna hold his cheeks and tell him things are fine and that you love him

wait WHAT

but sunoo is still staring at you with that wounded look

like you’ve just ripped up his heart and torn it to shreds

bc that’s kinda what you’re doing

omg what’ve you done

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

“sunoo…”

his eyes lock onto yours so fast that you’re afraid he’s got whiplash

your mouth goes dry, and for a few moments it’s hard to talk

but you finally manage to tell him that “i don’t think we should fake date anymore.”

sunoo's face breaks

his eyes go wide, and it looks like he wants to stagger. and he almost does, just a little bit

“is it something i did?”

WHAT

this boy

kim sunoo is really gonna be the death of you

you’re shaking your head back and forth so fast because NO of course not of course this isn’t his fault

sunoo is Not Okay, and he looks so, so concerned for you. “because i swear i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. if i screwed up just tell me and i can fix it, [name], please”

you shake ur head, already starting to panic. “of course not. it’s not YOU sunoo. i just can’t fake date you because--”

you clamp your hands over your mouth

“because?” sunoo prompts, his voice careful

you just shake your head, already starting to turn and run back to somewhere, anywhere because this is stupid and you’re scared

terrified, actually

but sunoo just takes your hand and tugs you backward a bit, almost like a scene from a movie

you do that little twirl back and are face to face with the one and only

“do you … do you like me?” sunoo asks

that’s it

it’s out

you’re ready for your entire friendship with sunoo to come crashing down

“do you?” he repeats softly

you try to pull away but sunoo isn’t having it

he’s still holding onto your hand, gently, of course, and his eyes are boring into yours

you’re too scared to look because you’re afraid of what you’ll find

but when you can’t take it anymore and finally tilt your head up you realize something important

because his eyes aren’t full of disgust

in fact, that’s further from the truth

kim sunoo is staring at you with the biggest heart eyes you’ve ever seen and you’re confused as to how you’ve never seen this sooner

it’s almost like you’re his whole world, and now you can’t fucking breathe

is this real? chat is this fr rn??

your heart’s pounding in your chest so fast and there’s something bursting at your lungs

you nod faintly. “yes. i like you”

the huge grin that spreads across sunoo's face is everything

he rushes forward to pull you into a gigantic hug, even lifting you up a little as he spins you around and lets out a little happy noise

“i’ve liked you forever, [name], i can’t believe this is real”

what

so u could’ve been dating sunoo before??

“you dork why didn’t you tell me?”

“because you didn’t like me like that!”

BITCH WHAT

“well maybe i was confused” you pipe back

sunoo just laughs, burying his head in your shoulder. “i’m so happy right now.”

and honestly ?

so are you !!

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen blurbs #enhypen fic #enhypen sunoo #kim sunoo #sunoo #sunoo x reader #sunoo imagines #sunoo fluff #sunoo fic #sunoo soft hours #ashtxrie #— ash writes!

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pooksgetspooked · 5 months

Text

Friends with Benefits

Summary: You and Leon were both friends, nothing less and definitely nothing more. The comfortable dynamic evolves, and Leon finds his thoughts on things changing, and his needs shifting. Maybe for the worse. He just needed his sweet girl, just this once. Pairing: Leon s. Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Content warnings: MDNI! Softcore somno, Self-guilt turned self-gaslighting-and-justification, no explicit NSFW, pinning, fluff if you squint, also dubcon if you squint

Moments as tender as these were rare and few between. Thick arms wrapped protectively around your waist with your back pressed flush against his chest, Leon’s attention hyper focused on the way your chest rose and fell so softly. He kept his breathing quiet, basically silent as he felt himself grow dizzy with want, the smell of your shampoo being the only thing he could smell, the shy bit of skin at your waist from your shirt riding up the only thing he could feel. By god, he wanted to plant his lips on your neck and stake his claim, mar your barren neck with pretty bruises and feel you squirm.

Fuck, he needed help. The two of you had only started getting closer as of late. Always knew each other as friends, but that line started to blur when Leon found himself in the thick of being no better than the government’s bitch, while you were still in university with your life revolving around the next exam paper that never fails to knock down your ego twenty notches. Neither of you had talked about this arrangement, just fell into a comfortable shift in pattern of hanging out at each other’s places, having meals together and cuddling together. It was like friends with benefits, except the benefits excluded any sexual welfare. Leon before the Raccoon City incident would’ve whined and demanded compensation for his poor, aching blue balls, but the current government’s lapdog Leon was just grateful to have someone to hold, even if they weren’t anything more than questionable friends. That’s what he told himself, at least. That he was lucky to have you, his sweet girl. Friend. His sweet, girl-friend. Always doing your best to cheer him up, take his mind off work, even help him unwind by surprising him with the occasional home cooked meals and movie nights with fuzzy socks and popcorn. So when his thoughts start to shift, he finds himself struggling to grapple against the wagering war within him. Suddenly, movie nights didn’t feel so platonic when all he could focus on is how soft your breasts felt, all pressed against biceps when you were hugging it, and how good it would feel having you sat prettily on his lap while he clung onto your waist and let his hand crawl lower. The sudden spur of thought went straight to his dick, and he thought he forgot how to breathe for a moment. The popcorn felt too sweet now, like it was going to pull his teeth right out, and the room felt too warm, like his brain was going to melt out of his ears.

That was just the start of it. Nothing was the same after that. Everything you usually did from then would have Junior at full attention. Eating something? He bet your lips would feel real nice wrapped around his dick. Crouched down to pick something up? He knows you’d look real cute when he surprises you with his bulge in your face as you stand up. Blinked up at him while you’re asking him whether he wants anything from near your university? Had to physically stop himself from bending down a lil and slamming his lips into yours, hands around your back to stop you from escaping. Point is, he was but a man at the end of the day, and his male needs finally decided to make itself unavoidable. He found himself plagued by an incessant want, so much so that he considered maybe getting neutered wouldn’t be too bad. The guilt festered and ate at him. Made him more irritable at work, forced him to milk himself at least once a day now whenever you weren’t around. He wanted to hate you for worming your way into his mind and making yourself home there like a god damn parasite, but he couldn’t. You, his sweet girl who always had his best intentions in mind, always so sweet towards everyone, even make it a point to stop by every cat to give it a pat and move snails off pavements and onto grass patches. But he could only resist so much. How do you expect him not to let himself go just a little bit when you’re all cuddled up against his chest, ass unconsciously pressed against his bricked up boner, and back hunched to make yourself seem that much smaller. Leon had to bite his lips to keep himself from groaning and bucking his hips up against you when his thumb rubbed little circles into the soft flesh of your waist. He silently prayed for forgiveness when his hand climbed higher, slowly trailing the soft skin beneath his rough finger pads, his breath shuddering when he reached the upslope curve of your breast. It wasn’t too late to back out. He could pull his hand out, pull your shirt down, and try to sleep with a raging hard on. Not the most practical of choices, but the option was there all the same. He swallowed thickly, mind reeling as he really, really thought this through. The guilt was growing, building up like a pressure cooker and ready to pop at any moment. He was pretty sure if he thought about this hard enough, he could throw up from how awful he felt. He was an upstanding, law abiding citizen with a strong sense of justice and moral compass. His entire upbringing revolved around taking care of others and protecting the innocent. What was he doing? You whined softly in your sleep, nose scrunching as your shifted back a little more, the plump of your ass rubbing against his dick through the thin home-wear boxers. He deserved to be a little selfish. You wouldn’t even know! It just a few light brushes, just so he could say he’s felt the touch of a woman recently. Just so he has something to rewind over and over again in his head when he rubs himself off again the next day, and every other day following that. This doesn’t change him, he still orients himself entirely around other people and protecting the vulnerable. He would protect you, keep you happy and fed, treat you so so well. A new resolve blossomed in him, inhibitions temporarily locked in a safe and thrown into deep waters as his hand climbed further up. His head spun, his mouth falling open when the pad of his finger brushed against your nipple, earning him a soft noise from your slumbering figure. Oh, his sweet little girl’s so sensitive, aren’t you? He knew he was done for the moment he felt your nipples pebble under his touch, the way you whimpered shooting straight to his leaking dick.

This was unfair. It was so, fucking unfair that he had been blessed with such a cute sweetheart, yet they weren’t together yet despite almost living together. He wanted to cry, why couldn’t something good happen in his life. You. You were good. Why couldn’t you happen to him? His other hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, smearing the precum across his slit before using what he could to rub the mushroom tip. He was certain your hands would feel so much better, so much softer, if he could just. With shaky hands, he gently guided your soft one over his dick, small palms cupping the hot and heavy weight through the boxers, and he swore he almost came right there and then. Swallowing down his own whimpers, he held his hand over yours, gently squeezing his length, rubbing softly as his hips bucked up into your hands. His dick twitched, jumping excitedly as he felt himself tear up from the intensity of it all. He was getting choked up, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried so hard not to pant and groan into your ear. He felt himself tipping. On the crest of his orgasm, he let your hand fall from his dick, pulling away and scrambling back so he had room to spear his dick into his rough hands. He had to bite down on the collar of his shirt, and even then, that couldn’t fully muffle his cries when he spilled out and onto his hands, his thighs shaking and dick spasming in his hold as he wrung himself dry. He was certain he had died for a second and met god himself when his vision went white and all the air was robbed out of his lungs, his ears ringing and head dizzy as he let himself slump forward to rest his head against the mattress while he heaved for air. Gingerly pulling his hand out of his boxers, both of which sticky with his cum, he slowly raised his head to look to you, still sleeping with your back towards him. He let out a soft breath, letting the daze of his orgasm subside. This was the first and last time, he told himself. Never again, he thought, as he weakly stumbled into the bathroom with buckling knees to clean himself up.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #x reader #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader

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aealzx · 4 months

Text

Letting the drape over the infirmary entrance drop closed to muffle some of the external noises, Don made his way to the kitchen to finally oblige Mikey’s demand to feed everyone. It was normal to have a commotion coming from the room, so he wasn’t surprised at the noise of boisterous chatter filtering out from the entrance. Especially since it looked like Casey and Mom April were there early, already seated at the table and asking questions.

“Actually, the Donnie is the feisty one.”

Don reached the kitchen entrance as Raphael responded to Casey’s comment, Raphael’s voice saturated with amusement at the fact. Don hadn’t caught what Casey said before, but it was easy to hear him now.

“What? You gotta be kidding. Don is the hot head in their family?” Casey gawked, looking over at Don in disbelief.

“Not a hot head, just aggressive. Kid totally bit through someone’s arm and broke the bone. It was awesome, if not for the fact it was some scientist treating him like a lab experiment,” Raphael corrected, folding his arms. If it weren’t for the situation Donnie and Lil Mikey had been in many of their feats would have been subject of quite the boastful conversation.

“You’re kidding!” Casey gawked again.

“Not even. We saw it on camera. He was completely restrained and then just chomped down on some lady’s arm and didn’t let go even though she punched him in the nose. It was impressive,” Mikey chimed in, semi miming some of the actions. “They’re both crazy strong. AND the Leo. He showed up a little while ago, and get this, the kid can teleport.”

“Okay I don’t believe that. They’re not superheroes Mikey,” Casey retorted, wrinkling his nose a little. Teleporting mutant turtles? That sounded like something that would be from the Justice Force, not the sewers of another world.

“‘Course they aren’t. Lil me said they’re actually super soldiers. Like Cap’n America and Winter Soldier. Sick, right? The lil guy can totally fling those giant mechas around like they’re baseballs,” Mikey countered, hopping up to lean across the table with a huge grin.

“Are they alright?” Mom April asked yet again as Casey took Mikey’s taunting bait and jumped up to tackle him. She was looking up from where she was helping Junior with some mash Mikey always had on hand these days, and seemed more concerned about the visiting groups’ health than their abilities.

Giving a bit of a sigh that was a mix between amused and exasperated, Raphael looked over to Don, gesturing a hand at him to answer. Maybe if the doctor of the house answered she would finally be reassured that the kids were going to be fine. “They’re alright,” Don assured confidently. “They’re all sleeping now, I don’t think they got much lately. But their wounds have been taken care of, and they seem comfortable. All four of them are here, and they even have their version of you with them too.”

“Me?” Mom April sputtered slightly, having not thought about the possibility. She was definitely more assured of their state now that Don gave her an answer along with the others, making room as he took a seat on the other side of Junior as her.

“Yeah, she’s nothing like you either,” Raphael laughed, rocking back on two chair legs after Leo chased Mikey and Casey out of the kitchen before they broke something.. “She’s a spunky lil gal. Fresh out of highschool it seems, and could probably crack my skull if she wanted to. I almost thought she was an alternate Angel instead.”

“It seems to run in the group. They’re all a lot more… brazen than I would expect. They don’t seem to have much discipline,” Leo commented, noting that many of the comments so far about their guests had been about how rambunctious they were.

“What makes you say that?” Mom April asked. She knew Leo had always been the one of the brothers that was more strict about discipline, following Master Splinter’s teachings the closest. But over the years he’d become less prone to associate an abundance of energy with lack of discipline.

“We fought their Leo a bit when he first came here – there was a misunderstanding that got cleared up – but his movements aren’t refined. It’s almost as though he was self taught,” Leo pointed out, having to quickly reassure Mom April that there hadn’t been too bad of a skirmish.

“You noticed it too, huh,” Don voiced his agreement. “We all had Master Splinter training us since we were kids, but Leon seems to only recently be getting some sort of structured tutelage for his martial arts.”

“He fights like he learned from watching movies,” Raphael huffed, amused at the thought. “It’s surprising he’s figured out how to make it work.”

“He does seem to learn fast though. I wonder what he would have done if you had actually shoved him off,” Don added, his mind wandering off to consider the possibilities.

“You let him catch you?” Leo’s incredulous voice snapped as he rounded on Raphael, a scolding lecture quickly rising.

“Duh,” Raphael snorted, narrowing his eyes at Leo and leaning away from him. “The kid’s a toothpick. You really think he could keep me pinned like that?”

The retort only served to rile Leo up more though, and he smacked his hands on the table to lean over Raph. “Oh, that’s great. So what was your plan if he actually slit your throa-”

The words were interrupted by a piece of chicken from Mikey’s stew smacking him in the side of the head. As both Raphael and Leo blinked in surprise they broke off their conversation to look towards the source of the launched food only to see Don giving them a pointed stare. He didn’t have to say anything. They’d had this lecture from him many times before. Walking them through their word choice barrier that only caused fights instead of helped. It caused Leo to shrink down in his usual embarrassed retreat as he forced himself to reanalyze his distress and word it in a way that Raphael would understand better.

“.............. You scared me,” Leo finally muttered, keeping his gaze elsewhere. “I thought…. I didn’t want to see you gushing blood from your neck.”

Oh. So that’s what it was. Like always Raphael didn’t see how the previous lecture connected to what Leo admitted, but he still understood by now that this was just the way Leo reacted. Blinking as the dots connected in his own brain, it was Raphael’s turn to shrink in mild sheepishness as he fully realized what could have happened. Sure, Don could have taken care of the injury if it had happened. But was it worth the mental and emotional distress he would have caused the others? “...My b-.... Sorry,” he responded, equally muttering and switching for words he knew Leo took to heart better. “I guess I was just more focused on getting the kid to stop moving and calm down.”

It made sense, and Leo let out a sigh as the tension from that fight finally eased away into his normal pool of anxiety over possibilities and not actualities. Letting himself droop forward a bit, Leo awkwardly knocked his forehead against Raphael’s shoulder to let him know he accepted the apology and reasoning. As Raphael raised a hand to roughly pat the back of Leo’s head, Don exchanged a soft chuckle with Mom April over the interaction while Master Splinter hid a smile with his teacup. With the bubbling argument abated, Don pulled them back to thoughts that had returned to his mind after one of Raphael’s comments

“Speaking of getting Leon calmed down,” Don spoke up, grabbing their attention. “I think Leon suffers from traumatic flashbacks.”

The sudden shift into a more sensitive topic caused the others in the room to still, and Leo quietly pulled a seat over to settle in. Raphael shifted uneasily, making an uncertain connection that he had to clarify. “...Like the waking dreams Leo sometimes had after Shredder’s men put him in a coma?” he asked, feeling a little bad for mentioning it when Leo fidgeted.

“Yes, but I think they’re worse,” Don answered, forgetting his half eaten meal in front of him for now as he started to explain his reasoning. “When he was attacking us it was calculated at first, but I noticed at some point something happened and he got… frantic. His attacks had more force behind them and were less structured. Almost like a panicked fight response to keep from freezing up. I thought it was weird at the time, but it wasn’t until he was with Lil Mikey that I had the thought he may have had a flashback. It was quiet, but I heard Lil Mikey asked Leon ‘are you here?’ And when I mentioned everyone’s concern about a secondary mutation I noticed he was using a grounding technique while April answered. Pressing his fingers into his arm to distract himself.”

The revelation caused an uncomfortable silence to fall over the room. But Don remained quiet as well to give them time with their thoughts. There was no rush anyway, they had time.

“....... So… what? We can’t exactly ship him off to the Ancient One like we did with Leo,” Raphael was the first to speak up, having already run through his own thoughts and not finding an answer to why Don was bringing this all up.

Don had to give a bittersweet chuckle at the thought, and shook his head. “Nothing serious. I just wanted you guys to be aware of it. I know we don’t know them very well, so it’ll be a little hard to tell if he’s not acting like himself. But, if he suddenly gets violent again for no apparent reason I just want you to realize he probably doesn’t recognize it’s you.”

“.... Fair enough,” Leo agreed, still trying to figure out how he felt about the whole topic. He didn’t think the same ‘fix’ for his own issues would work with Leon. But he also didn’t think it was appropriate for them to ask why he was having flashbacks either. There was a question that bubbled up in his mind that he ended up asking though. “...Are any of the others affected as well?”

Don seemed mildly surprised at the question, and had to pause when Raphael voiced his own thoughts that had sprung up with the question. “Mikey said the scars on Donnie’s back were also from their version of Shredder. You don’t think it was caused by the same dude, do ya?”

It was an unexpected fact to hear, but Don just switched his surprised expression for a soft smile. “Not unless Shredder has been harassing them until just recently,” he admitted. “The scars on Donnie’s back are a few years old already. But the ones on the other three; the scars on Leon’s legs, the crack in Leon’s shell, the piece missing from Raph’s shell, his scarred eye, and the… rather odd burn scars on Lil Mikey’s arms are all only a few months old. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were from the same event… And I also wouldn’t be surprised if the others were similarly affected in their mentality. We’re already seen how protective they are of each other.”

Hearing that the scars the teens had were almost all fairly recent gave Raphael a bitter taste in his mouth. While one part of his mind argued that they had seen similar injuries when they were teens, the other part of his mind argued that it didn’t matter, they were still way too young to have to go through something like that. “...The little guy did deliberately avoid talking about his arms when I asked,” he commented, not sure if that was support for or against the possibility of Lil Mikey having trauma like Leon. And he ended up giving a frustrated sigh and rubbed his head. “Man, I feel like I’m gonna have to walk on eggshells around them now. So what? Am I not allowed to ask anything to them now?”

This time Master Splinter was the one who answered, setting his empty cup down and rising to walk over and place a hand on Raphael’s shoulder. “You have always been instinctually aware of the nuances of childrens’ emotions. Trust your instincts, don’t overthink it, and I’m sure you’ll be fine. And remember, an uncomfortable emotion is not necessarily one to be avoided,” he assured, giving Raphael a pat when Raphael’s shoulders relaxed and he gave Master Splinter a reassured smile.

Then Master Splinter turned to Leo, resting a hand on his shoulder as well. “And my advice for you is to have patience. Continue to allow them to come to you instead of you running to and chasing them, as you described to me before.” And then his gaze shifted to Don. “Donatello, be careful with your vast, and wonderful knowledge. Remember that the mind cannot often be treated overnight. Try not to overwhelm them.” Don hadn’t been expecting to be given his own warning. But after Master Splinter mentioned it, he realized that he very easily could have ended up stressing the kids out by unloading too much information on them to try to help. As he sheepishly scratched his cheek Master Splinter looked to Mom April as well. “For our dear April, I suggest giving them their space when they need it. Affection can sometimes be the perfect medicine, but from a stranger sometimes it can only serve to cause distress instead of comfort.”

“...Thanks Master Splinter,” Mom April responded, also appreciating the caution she hadn’t even considered she’d needed.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to make sure those two hooligans haven’t destroyed any furniture or bones. There has been enough surgery for one night,” Master Splinter sighed slightly, giving Leo another pat before he shuffled out of the room, walking stick thumping against the tile.

The three sons chimed in with their own vocal gratitude and well wishes, and after Master Splinter was out of sight Raphael heaved a sigh and flopped onto the table. “Man. Thirty years and he still somehow has the best advice.”

“You said it,” Leo agreed, feeling a mix of relief and also chagrined by what felt like having his flaw called out before he’d even made a mistake.

“Mhmm,” Don chimed with a hum and a nod, returning to the rest of his dinner turned breakfast. “...Do we still have orange juice?”

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Huuuuaaaaagh why does time pass so freaking fast sometimes =<= I totally got caught up in 2 new projects |D that's why the longer delay this time. Wys got me into trying to make a doll of my OCs, and then I started designing a cosplay outfit to try out.....

Anyway 8'D enjoy a little 03 fam only section. Baby Jones having red hair was picked by Wys not knowing what she was choosing between red or black for X'D He's also wearing a dinosaur onsie, compliments of Don.

#my art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #cross dimension kidnapping #tmnt 2003 #rise + 2003 crossover #writing #long post #fanfic #03 April #03 Casey

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bleubrri · 1 year

Text

۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ ᴀᴅʀᴇɴᴀʟɪɴᴇ — ʜᴀɴᴍᴀ sʜᴜᴊɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

༄ؘ ˑ contains: f1 driver!shuji , pit crew manager!reader , endless petnames ( doll / angel / pretty girl / sweetheart etc ) , black coded!fem!sub!reader , vaginal fingering , squirting , cunnilingus , a lil pussy job , v brief mention of anal , jerkin’ off , dacryphilia + overstim if you squint , shuji tuckin’ your cum away for safe keeping<3

༄ؘ ˑ wc: 4k

༄ؘ ˑ a/n: belated bday piece for hanma🤸🏾not proof read as per ͡(ुŏ̥̥̥̥ ‸ ŏ̥̥̥̥) ु

“piece of fucking shit—” the sound of his helmet slamming into the tarmac has hanma’s useless excuse for a pit crew flinching under the racers rage. he’d practically leaped out of his car in his blaze of fury, sweat-sticky bangs clinging to his skin as he beelined into the pits. his attempts at trying to stay remotely calm (every one of that brainless psychologists tricks—count down from 10, five things you can see, four things you can hear or whatever the fuck) are crushed into dust when he catches sight of the crew manager, cigarette bobbing between his lips as he attempts to flirt with a runner 2 decades his junior. and hanma sees red, yanks him back by the collar so harshly that he almost goes spinning onto the track (maybe it’d to him good to take a few laps, shuji’s engine revving behind him just to keep him on his toes—).

“what the fuck?!”

“you’re fired.” hanma spits, tone laced with vitriol.

“what?” he says incredulously, “look, you can’t blame me for not winning. shoddy drivin’ ain’t gonna make up for lost time—“ hanma pulls back his fist, since apparently this idiot has a death wish. kisaki let’s him get one punch in, the satisfying crunch of a broken nose echoing before he catches him by the crook of his elbow. his manager takes in the scene, glancing at the runner who’s still hovering, wide eyed and uncertain (probably a damn apprentice they look so young) and grunting out, “leave.”

“you.” he gestures to his short-tempered racer, “walk it off.”

“whatever.” hanma sniffs, casting a final death-glare to the ex pit crew chief and kicking up shards of rubber as he saunters off.

kisaki ignores the outrage that gets spewed at him when he instructs the crew manager to pack his shit. he’s nursing an electromagnetic headache by the time he slinks into his office, wrapping his knuckles against the desk and calling for his assistant. thick lensed glasses and blue eyes peek from behind the door. “sir?”

“call her.” he says, massaging his temple and contemplating if it’s too early to retire.

nervous eyes dart around the room. “I— sir, she doesn’t—“

“call her.” he repeats with a finality that has his assistant shuddering and slinking towards the phone.

ten.

the smell of burning rubber, astringent and sharp, singes your nostrils and coats the back of your tongue.

nine.

“get ready people! in and out, let’s get this playboy back out there.” your quip earns you a few chuckles as your crew assembles into the positions you’ve calculated to optimise the switch.

eight. seven. six.

maybe you can leech an extra bonus off of that eerily stoic manager for your efforts. the last thing you expected was your college friend calling you in the middle of a well deserved vacation, big wet eyes and pleading tone dripping through the screen in desperate need of a favour. you’d agreed—you supposed you owed it to him for endlessly mooching notes off of him in countless late night study sessions. and your crew were good sports about it (it only took the promise of hosting at your house for new years and supplying booze for upwards of 40 people). one race, you’d said. just to tide them over until they found someone permanent for the grand prix.

five. four.

the plan is solid. everyone, everything’s in place. a flash of colour veers round the bend and your grip on your clipboard tightens.

three.

you can almost see your crew’s fingertips twitching with anticipation.

two.

oh this’ll be a breeze. fun even. maybe you can be on the train home by tomorrow morning; knock out a couple chapters of that book you’ve been meaning to finish. cook some dinner, indulge in that chardonnay gifted from the neighbour.

one.

just one more race.

hanma hasn’t been the first racer to leave the pits in a while. he’s almost always the first one in, having to overcompensate in the laps following half assed pit stops by crews that can barely change a fucking tire. so it’s by instinct alone that he’s preparing his usual schpiel of mumblings. c’mon, come on let’s fucking go—

but his words never get the chance to form. he’s barely eased off the gas—barely blinked before he’s burning rubber and shooting back onto the track.

adrenaline is pounding in his ears, and he vaguely registers the screams of the crowd and frantic commentary from the hosts: i don’t think we’ve seen a pit stop like that in a hot second, ted! no you’re absolutely right, josh, especially not from hanma’s corner! word on the street is he’s looking for a fresh new team ahead of the world grand prix—has the infamous racer finally found his match?

he’s giddy with the rush of an impending win flooding his veins, a smile that’s almost ditzy pulling at his lips until he can feel his gums pressing against his molars. a quick glance in his rears reveals a gaggle of black jumpsuits surrounding a figure dressed in red, the stickers from his sponsors adorning your back and torso.

and when his car gains speed and his knuckles whiten beneath his gloves as he approaches the finish line, hanma decides that he has to have you.

“he’s not here! winner’s lounge is further down!” you shout from around the pencil wedged between your teeth. the pits are deserted, with everyone having retreated to the press corner and vip lounge for drinks after an admittedly impressive win. you figured you’d make the most of the peace and quiet and edit a few designs in the seclusion of the garage, the shutters half shut for some privacy and hanma’s car acting as your only company.

and yet the pair of feet visible through the gap in the bottom of the shutters are suddenly sliding underneath. “hey! he’s not here, dude. it’s crew only, you’re not even supposed to be he—oh.”

you’ve only really seen snippets of him—blurry paparazzi shots of him in dark shades and a hoodie slung over his tall figure—but the riot of black and blonde, the stark characters of sin and punishment, it’s all very telling.

“did you.. need something?”

“jus’ addin’ to the collection.” he says, producing his medal that was shoved into a pocket and dropping it into a tray of similar awards. it’s ridiculous really—a little trinket tray full of medals that people spend their entire careers in pursuit of. and yet here he is, 6 foot gorgeous and acting like he couldn’t care less. you resist the urge to rake over his lean form in the tight jumpsuit that he still wears, suddenly very aware of your own jumpsuit: zipped to your waist with arms bare in nothing but a sports bra (and not even one of your cute ones). you frown at the figures and measurements on the papers in front of you. would it be weird to cover up? or weirder if you don’t? surely he’ll leave in a second anywa—

“watcha doin’?” his chin is practically resting on your shoulder as he leans over you, peering at your post-it scribbles and months long blueprints. he smells good. something spicy and masculine that makes you want to turn your head and press your nose to his pulse. apparently he’s enjoying the way his proximity is affecting you, gold-flecked eyes locking with yours as you stutter out a response.

“ah, just going over some plans. nothing exciting really.”

long fingers graze over the paper obscuring your design. “didn’t know pit crew managers designed engines.” he watches you wring your hands together on your lap, suddenly sheepish.

“it’s just for fun, really. might not be one forever..” you mumble.

“you design formula 1 engines for fun?”

“i guess so.”

“MIT?” he asks as if he can’t already tell and you nod.

the hum that rumbles in his chest jumps over your skin and burns goosebumps in its wake. “clever little thing, aren’t you?”

there’s a desert in your mouth. your saliva has to be a fucking mirage because you’re definitely swallowing sand.

“i—“

“pretty too.” he says, tugging on a particularly curly loop of your hair. (it’s short, maybe as short as his, because there’s only so much shampoo a person can go broke from trying to get the smell of gasoline out of hair that grazes your mid-back).

“thanks.” you croak out uncertainly.

“i want you.” he deadpans and you can feel the harsh crunch of grains between your teeth, saharan dust clogging your throat by the mouthful.

“you—what?” you aren’t sure whether hanma’s smile should make you feel excited or uneasy. still, you try not to noticeably clench your thighs together.

“in paris.”

“p-paris?”

he raises a knowing brow as he smirks at your adorable squirming. “i want you there, in paris. for the first race. and every race after that.”

at that, you frown and your answer comes at a speed that surprises you both. “no.” and then, more softly, “i’m… supposed to be on vacation.” you mumble.

he clicks his tongue, dissatisfied. “c’mon sweetheart. it took me one race to figure out you’re the best of the best—you’ve gotta know that by now. and i—“ he starts, lifting your chin from where it’s tucked into your chest, “want the best.”

you step up from your seat a little too fast and slam your pencil down a little too harshly, running a hand over your hair and sighing, “you don’t need me, hanma. you won with a six lap lead today, i think you’ll be fine.” hanma sighs dramatically, walking backwards into the centre of the garage. the distance both calms your nerves and makes you crave something you can’t quite place.

punishment is extended to you, lustrous eyes daring you to deny him. “c’mere.” his hands are slightly warm. palms a little calloused and knuckles sharp when he laces your fingers together and pulls you deeper into the garage, right in front of where his car is parked. admittedly, it’s fucking gorgeous up close—the fleeting glimpses on the speedway don’t do it anywhere near justice. hanma takes advantage of your stunned silence and slots in right behind you, sporting a wicked grin unbeknownst to you when his palms land on your shoulders and he feels you immediately tense under his touch.

“you know why i love racing?” his voice is low and gravelly and travelling straight between your legs. and when his head dips and he whispers over the shell of your ear, you release a shaky breath that you didn’t realise was trapped in your lungs. “adrenaline.” he says. “it builds up. every lap of the track, building and building—“ it’s hard to ignore the way his fingers are sliding further up your skin. “until i cross the finish line with those fuckers miles behind me.” calloused pads ghost over your jaw until hanma’s tilting your gaze upwards. dark and blonde strands have fallen over his eyes, and yet you could swear his pupils look blown, thick lashes more prominent under his half lidded study of you. “you ever feel like that?” it’s phrased as a question, but something in his tone assures you that he knows. “tell me what you felt, today, when we won.” when we won. hanma’s laying it on a little thick, but he has a feeling it’ll all be so, so worth it.

“i—i thought you did well. i was.. proud of my team.” you manage to whisper.

“oh c’mon doll,” the corner of his lips is tilted in a knowing smirk and he leans in closer, “‘s just us, you can drop the modesty.” the subtle heat of sin is suddenly gliding over your waist.

“i—“ you can’t fucking speak, his left hand settling over the skin of your stomach and toying with the zip that sits below your navel. “c’mon angel, you can trust me.”

“i felt it.. i felt it too.” you blurt out. “adrenaline—when you turned the corner. w-when you crossed the finish line. felt like i fucking won.” you’re spewing words out between heavy breaths and he rewards you for it, tracing the lace that lines your panties, the seam that connects your inner thigh to your heated cunt, before tensing the fabric against the plush mound of your pussy. he explores your covered folds through the thin barrier, tracing the peaks and valleys he finds while dragging your panties in steady strokes against you, drool-worthy friction scathing across your weeping cunt. pink flashes from between his teeth as hanma runs his tongue over his lips and you get the sudden insatiable urge to suck on it. to chart the course of his mouth until you get lost between his teeth, under his tongue and down his throat.

“i knew it.” he smiles like he’s proud, “only reason i got such a lead was ‘cause you know how to manage those nobodies.”

did he mean your team? “t-they’re not nobod-“

“they’re nothing.” he insists, “but you, angel face,” he continues, wrenching your panties aside and delighting in the sticky mess that he finds there, “oh you’re everything.”

the moan that escapes you when hanma immediately plunges two lithe fingers past the tight rings of your entrance is swallowed into his mouth when he captures your lips with his. he’s got sharp canines that dig into the plush of your lower lip as he parts them at the seam and licks into your mouth. you’re as sweet as he thought you’d be: he laves over your spit-slick tongue like it’s his favourite piece of candy, swears your teeth have to be rocks of sugar with the way his tastebuds light up at the taste of you.

the stretch from his fingers is tapering into a dull throbbing as he glides the pads of his digits along the satiny walls of your cunt, subtly grinding the hardening tent at his crotch against the curve of your ass. one of your hands slinks upwards and slithers around his nape. blunt nails scratch at the shorter hair there, jolts of electricity shooting to the base of his spine and sparking delicious heat in his gut. your fingers can’t seem to decide what they want, torn between tugging at the soft locks of his crown and burying themselves there to push him closer. either way, the feeling has him growling against your mouth and writhing his fingers until he’s knuckle deep inside you and coated in your slick. when he crooks his fingers, angling them to press into the fleshy bundle of nerves at your centre, you whimper beneath him, arching into his touch and clenching around his digits like a fucking diver grasping at a gem on the depths of the seabed.

heated breaths fan over puffy lips as you pull back to come up for air. it proves pointless—any trace of oxygen punched from your chest when hanma cups your entire pussy and grinds the heel of his palm into the throbbing nub of your clit. your head falls limp against his chest, drawn out moans and little sniffles pulling his attention from the feast between your legs. his gaze is met with damp lashes and an almost imperceptible wobble of your lip. somehow the prospect of your tears has his dick twitching with excitement and threatening to burst through his clothes. he fantasises about having you sprawled out beneath him, tasting salt on you lips and feeling wet trails down your cheeks. maybe mascara would stain your cheeks, inky tracks that worsen with each snap of his hips, sheathing his cock further into the gooey depths of your heat. it’s a tangible possibility, one that has him sporting an erection that could shatter glass. “shit—you cryin’ pretty girl?” he mutters before trailing kisses along the length of your jaw.

“ngh! ‘s so—‘s so good, hanma.” you’re mewling, the increasing pace of his fingers thrusting into you twisting your throat until rapid breaths are being puffed from your lips and the coil in your stomach pulls taut.

“shuji.” he says simply, latching onto your neck and sucking a bruise into the column of your throat.

you can feel your arousal dripping down your inner thighs and stringing his fingers together. between the involuntary grinding against his clothed dick and the searing kisses on your skin, you’re trying to move through the fog of desire that’s clouding your brain; a warning of you about to crash over the edge almost making its way off your tongue before hanma’s shuffling forward, spinning you to face him and pushing you down until you’re sprawled out on the thin hood of his car. his fingers slow their ministrations a fraction and yet never leave their rightful place, nestled against your g-spot. there really isn’t a lot of space on the car, though you suppose it doesn’t matter, ogling him with misty heart-eyes as hanma’s towering form slots over you. the forearm of his free hand slams against the glossy paint job right next to your head, his long legs spread wide to give him the perfect leverage to grind his dick into the edge of the car and relentlessly swirl his digits into the mess of your cunt. and when he feels the telltale squeeze of your walls, he practically rips your jumpsuit down your legs to get a flawless view of the rivets of fluid that spew from around his fingers.

“fuck yeah, good fuckin’ girl.” he’s groaning as his body shifts down and retracts his fingers, sucking swollen, leaking flesh into the rapturous heat of his mouth. “thats it,” he drawls, his drawn out words sending vibrations across the sensitive lips of your pussy. “more, c’mon doll, give me more.” your hands fly into his hair as your spine arches under his expert tongue, swirling and licking up the length of your slit, the pointed tip of his nose pressing into your clit with a pressure that pushes more essence from you as he drinks you down for what seems like forever. “hm, you wanna keep this pretty pussy all to yourself? got a feelin’ this cute little clit’s gonna become my good luck charm.” he’s taken to tracing his initials into the perk cluster of nerves with the tip of his tongue, soaked fingers trailing every inch of your exposed flesh as your hips buck and grind, trying to get more and more friction from his face. your skin is puffy and glistening in a sheen of spit and slick under the dimmed lights of the garage. and you’ve got a cute little rim too, one that twitches when his touch ghosts anywhere remotely near it and it has him dying to fuck your ass until you’re screaming for him.

when your thighs mindlessly inch closer together, caging in his head, punishment is quick to slam one back down, his thumb working to spread you further and his head pushing further into your core. with the endorphins of your high mellowing into a pleasurable buzz, you’re suddenly aware of the sensitivity between your legs and the desperate movement of hanma’s hips.

“s-shuji—“ you call, carting your fingers through his hair. the image of him surfacing is a lewd one: wild eyes that drip with desire, slick coating the bottom half of his face with droplets littering everywhere from his collar to his forehead, a sheen of sweat on this hairline that has the hair there sticking together.

you steal his mouth for yourself, moaning at the taste of your release and his sweet breath pairing together along your tongue. the firm grasp of your fingers beginning to squeeze the bulge of his cock has him bucking into your hand and nipping at the flesh of your lip between groans. “shit—“ he breathes, reaching for the zipper of his jumpsuit and stripping down to his boxers in the space of a few hazy blinks. saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of sinewy musculature, dark hairs along the base of his navel stark against the pale expanse of his torso. beauty marks pepper his sleek abs and you get the desire to sink your teeth into the lean muscle of his thighs when they flex under his movements. it gets better when he frees his cock. a pretty thing; thick and long—his length has you clenching around air and worrying for your cervix. his head is flushed a deep crimson that almost looks painful, and you’d kill to have it shoved into the sleeve of your throat. you’re reaching for him, eyeing the throbbing veins that twist along the ridges of his shaft with a lustful gaze, but he pushes you down with one hand and wraps a tight fist around his girth with the other.

“not today, sweetheart.” he says, pumping his length and squeezing below the sensitive head of his cock, thumbing at his slit as a pearly coat of pre spreads along his shaft.

“what?” you’re looking up at him with doe-eyes through wet lashes, a sweet pout on your pretty lips. “you’re not.. you’re not gonna fuck me?” you mumble it like you’re embarrassed, as if you didn’t just squirt into his mouth and hump his face like a bitch in heat. hanma sighs, letting his dick slap against his stomach and pulling you to the edge of the car by the crook of your knees. you yelp, hands landing onto the hood (and the puddle of slick beneath you). he slides your panties down and takes off your jumpsuit from where it’s pooled around your legs, leaving your sex gorgeously exposed. his hand wraps around his erection, delivering a wet slap with the head of his cock directly over your clit. he watches with delight as a few more dewy drops spew from your slit, the way your face contorts in pleasure and a broken moan escapes you. he continues, does it over and over again, occasionally letting his length glide between the drenched lips of your cunt.

“i’ll fuck every pretty little hole you have to offer dollface.” he smiles as he cups your chin, his knees digging into the harsh metal of the cars hood, caging your body beneath him as he frantically strokes himself. “i’ll fuck you in toronto. in cape town, in tokyo.” he lists as his free hand slides down your torso and he begins to draw sticky circles above your slit. “i’ll fuck you in paris, first.”

his digits dip back inside you, his thumb keeping steady pressure on your clit as his other hand twists along his shaft. “for now, let’s give you a real one. yeah?” you want to argue that your first orgasm felt pretty goddamn real, but your answer comes in the form of your eyes slipping back, your hand clutching onto his wrist, unsure if you want to push him away from your oversensitive hole or keep him sheathed there until you physically can’t cum anymore.

“please, please shuji i’m—mmph fuck, fuck—‘m gonna cum.” oh he knows you are. the silky feeling of your cream between his fingers is enough for the frayed rope in his stomach to snap, milky ropes of his seed spurting from his dick and landing across your pretty cunt in a lecherous slew of arousal. curses are grunted from between his lips, his fist tightening round his cock to milk every drop of his cum onto your messy little hole. each sticky glob of his seed dripping onto you has your pussy clenching around air, pulsing with aftershocks and the desperate desire to have shuji’s cum stuffing you full, flooding your cunt until syrupy strings of it leak from your slit and claim you from the inside out.

silently, he tucks himself back into his boxers and slinks your shaky legs into your discarded underwear, the mixture of your cum and his immediately dampening the fabric. hanma grins, pressing an open-mouthed kiss over the damp spot that has you shuddering out a whimper. he levels his head with yours, a fucked-out smile gracing your lips that he can’t help but press a kiss against too.

“so.” he says.

“so..?”

“paris.”

you giggle, airy and breathless and entirely too fucking infatuating. faux contemplation is laced in the hum that you sing, locks of his hair between your fingers keeping you tethered here and barely stopping you from floating up into orbit. your heads in the clouds, but shuji’s lips are a whisper away, kiss-puffed and begging you to come back to them. “paris.” you say, and before the last syllable can evaporate into the air, shuji’s mouth is slotting against your own so perfectly that you wonder how you’ll ever be able to kiss anyone but him again.

#: @wh0reforlevi

#hanma x reader #hanma shuji x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyorev smut #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #tokyo rev smut #hanma smut #hanma shuji smut #hanma x y/n #hanma x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #hanma shuji #tokyo revengers x black!reader

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figscigfigs · 1 month

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my favorite moments from episode 11 of fantasy high junior year!!:

“is that’s a problem”

“riz? do you need to go to the eye doctor????”

finally addressing all the angry npcs

“even you fabian”

the identity spell giving SQ meeting gnosis

“should we go start minor disturbances around school and see if we get beat up?”

adaine’s classic scooter

aelwyn and adaine being sisters!!!!!

“tell kristen not to come back, the children were very rowdy after she left”

fig invading ruben’s dreams as kelpflower corncob (rad as hell)

gertie x kristen!!!! (honeybees?? maybe)

devil’s honey is so fucking rad

“my friends no longer want to see me naked” “i do”

all the parents!!!!

telemaine’s elf racism was silly but also made me a lil upset (“was that supposed to be my name?” “no i was doing a different word”)

GILEAR!!!! MY CHOSEN ONE HAS RETURNED!!!!(“this may tickle you to watch my life become suddenly amazing against my will”)

fig and hallariel continue to bring me joy (“hey! it’s me! from the phone!”)

“how did she bring winter??” “how did she bring winter???” “how did she bring winter??”

“we really gotta talk up bee girl”

fig and sandra lynn’s conversation got to me truly (i need sklonda and sandra lynn to start a support group for mothers parenting children working for the applebees student presidential campaign mpcwaspc for short)

fabian and gorgug arguing over who’s carrying the gravestone and “the ball do you wanna-“ “too small”

princess nara (i love her im sorry she’s too real)

in fact all the kristen/nara/tracker energy was absolutely perfect for lesbian exes (“WORLDSTAR”)

ALL OF SECRET SYLVAN (i genuinely shed tears cried bc they all love each other so much)

things about adine: 1. blonde 2. wizard 3. elven oracle

riz/murph immediately taking charge and running secret sylvan is so deeply in character

(attempted tearing noises)

“stop showing hole and make ‘em!”

and as we all know the last 20 minutes were the most insane thing that’s ever happened to me but god fig watching the illusion of herself she conjured morph into her dad and get fucking impaled by the armor that he wore to save her from her own illusion not even a year ago is devastating.

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gojoshooter · 11 months

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You've Got it From Here — Gojo

Pairing : unsealed!gojo x dead!nanami

A/N : a (better) reaction by gojo after he learns about nanami’s death cause this shit was keepin me up :D

WARNINGS : crying, manga spoilers

dead!nanami wasn't the first thing gojo looks for after being released from prison realm

unsealed!gojo would look around, sure, his eyes searching for the grumpy-looking young man in his weird signature glasses

unsealed!gojo would then give up his little search, attention back on his students that approach him timidly after his release

unsealed!gojo who one day at shoko's after getting his treatment brings up about not seeing nanami, and watches shoko put a face she uses to tell about a patient’s demise

“...i’m surprised no one told you about his death yet, satoru. take it easy though.”

unsealed!gojo who pauses, frowns... he knows either this had to be some kind of insensitive joke. that, or shoko has lost it after the shibuya incident

unsealed!gojo feeling that tiny hint of panic kicking deep in his guts, it was like your mom telling you she removed your bed from your bedroom... sounded that silly

unsealed!gojo who sees no signs of mockery, watches ichiji’s guilty sad eyes that seemed too real to be the part of a silly joke, & he nods

unsealed!gojo who feels like struggling to swallow a still beating heart, trying so hard not let his emotions take over... to accept it, let it go, fucking let it go & not phase him

unsealed!gojo who doesn't know why the idea of nanami's death would effect him to this level because.... he was just a junior from highschool, right?

dead!nanami who wasn't just his junior but the only person gojo had besides shoko, & understood gojo's need of being extra clingy as a coping mechanism after geto's death... he never questioned or complained

dead!nanami who gojo believed to never fail any task, like a child who believes in their superhero... he was a perfect man in his eyes

unsealed!gojo who tries not to break down at the thought of his junior on the brink of death, gojo knows he was the type to die with a proud smile, maybe daydreaming about things he cherished and things he wanted to do before dying one unfortunate day

dead!nanami 's death that truly registers in his mind when he stops in his way to his dead friend's dorm, realizing nanami can't comfort him about his own death

unsealed!gojo who develops some new habits, like closing the door of his room to take out old photo albums or his sns to look up old posts and tweets, chuckling to himself at how sulky & peevish was his highschool friend

unsealed!gojo who doesn't realize when water brims his eyes watching all the photos from the past, as all he could feel was his jaw hurting because he couldn't stop smiling looking back at the memories

unsealed!gojo wouldn't even wipe the tears off his face, trying not to acknowledge them because of his silly little belief that nanami would just come back if he wouldn't accept his death...

A/N: fin! this was for sweet lil @nanamikentoseyebags who asked me to make a hc about it, there u go <33

Tags: @luckimoon @pretty-toru @robynnnhooddd

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evansbby · 2 years

Note

Pretty please give us a lil something like a drabble of Steve and Omega with Steve Jr??? Maybe cuddling their floofy baby? Please🥹

Oh I love this idea! I debated posting this drabble bc it’s so out of character for Steve… but he’s drunk so I think it’s alright! Enjoy!

Warnings: inebriation, alcohol mention, daddy kink, a/b/o dynamics, fluff

The strong whiff of beer, whiskey and cigarettes hits you almost immediately when the door opens. You instinctively clutch Steve Junior close to your chest, cowering back as the foreboding, 6’6 frame of your alpha stumbles into the room.

“Baby,” Steve slurs, grabbing you and pulling you into him with so much force that he knocks himself back, taking you with him. Both of you crash land on his bed, you on top of him with his arms locked around you as he rubs his nose against yours, “Whoops. Hi.”

You swallow, wrinkling your nose at the strong scent of alcohol radiating off of him, not to mention how dilated his pupils are. Steve had gone to some frat party with his friends (he’d told you to come too but you’d luckily managed to persuade him that you had too much work — which wasn’t even a lie). Clearly, he’d had quite a bit to drink (and smoke, based on his smell).

“You’re drunk.” You say it almost cautiously, a feeling of dread spreading in your chest. Distant memories surface, the smell of alcohol reeking off your mother’s boyfriends, the anger and fear that followed.

“And you’re cute.” Steve echoes you, kissing your nose and the side of your mouth before his glazed eyes shift to Steve Junior who you’re still clutching protectively, “Oh look, it’s your little friend. What’s his name again?”

“It’s Steve Junior.” You answer softly, the fear within you slowly being replaced by curiosity, “You’re the one who named him, Steve.”

“That’s right, Steve Junior.” He snatches the stuffie from you, the motion clunky yet still strong, and you’re too distracted by his drunken demeanour and how different it is from when he’s sober, that you don’t even notice it.

“Hey little guy,” Steve prods Steve Junior in his furry little tummy with his pointer finger, “You been taking care of your mommy while I’ve been gone?”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat, your heart doing somersaults because this is so weird. Always, in your head you’d categorised alcohol as synonymous with anger and violence. But Steve’s being the complete opposite — relaxed, less stoic, less strict than normal. It’s almost fascinating to watch.

“He says yes!” Steve announces loudly despite the fact that you’re literally two inches away from him. His hand meanders down to give your ass a squeeze, “He says mommy’s been a good girl today.”

He gives you your stuffie back, and you hug the little fur-ball close to your chest, loving how Steve’s alpha scent sticks to Steve Junior’s fur. Meanwhile, Steve grabs your face, raining kisses all over your cheeks, nose and forehead. He’s never been this affectionate with you before, and you don’t know whether any moment he’s going to shift gears…

“Have you been good today, omega?”

You nod quickly, “Y-Yes daddy— I mean Steve. Did all your laundry and ironed your clothes for tomorrow too. I also made some pasta if you’re hungry, it’s in the fridge.” That is, if Bucky or Sam haven’t eaten it, you think to yourself sourly. They’re always eating the food you make — which you wouldn’t even mind if only they weren’t so mean to you all the time.

Steve strokes your hair softly, blue eyes fixed unblinkingly on you, “My perfect baby omega,” he croons softly, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say anything so softly, “So perfect for me…” He looks down at Steve Junior seriously, “What do you think, bud? Isn’t mommy perfect?”

Steve Junior’s coal black eyes stare coolly back at Steve, unwavering and unblinking, but Steve nods drunkenly anyways, his own blue eyes suddenly widening in glee, “Ha! You hear that? He just told me that he thinks you’re fucking sexy.”

It’s a ridiculous conversation, but you can’t help but indulge both him and yourself. And it’s so crazy how, for the first time in a long time, you feel kind of lighthearted. Your mouth drops open, “He didn’t say that! He’s my baby.”

The mischievous glint in Steve’s eye is almost instantaneous, and he flips the two of you over, pinning you against the mattress, his hard crotch grinding into you, “Want me to give you a real baby?”

You swallow, “I… uh —”

“You’d be even sexier when you’re pregnant.” He continues, and you have no idea what to say when he says things like this. Not that you’re able to say anything at all because the feel of him steadily humping against you has you going weak in the knees and dry in the throat.

“Wouldn’t she, Steve Junior? Wouldn’t mommy be even sexier when she’s pregnant?” He makes the stuffie nod his head, “See? Even our baby agrees.”

Despite the subject matter, you can’t help the butterflies that flutter in your chest at Steve’s light tone, the way he’s talking to your stuffie, the way he said “our baby.” Sober Steve is many things, but silly and playful is not really one of them…

Steve yawns, burying his face in your neck and taking a deep whiff, his body almost immediately relaxing on top of you, “Mmm, can’t wait to knock you up. My perfect little wife…”

He falls asleep like that, on top of you with his arms wrapped around you and face firmly in the nape of your neck, with Steve Junior sandwiched between your bodies. Shyly, hesitantly, you reach up to card your fingers through his blond hair. He looks peaceful and so much less intimidating when he’s asleep.

Maybe he’ll be nice like this all the time now! The omega inside you screeches happily. And you can imagine it: his softness, the laidback jokes, the sweetness, the way he’d spoken to Steve Junior. You can’t help but get giddy, falling asleep holding onto both your alpha and your stuffie, hope swirling in your chest.

A girl could dream, right?

***

The end! What do we think? Oh boy… this makes Steve Junior’s fate all the sadder🫣

#Steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers fanfiction #Chris evans #x reader #chris evans x reader #anon #poyt ask #poyt drabble #dark Steve rogers

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bucknastysbabe · 2 months

Text

Rating: Explicit

Tags: College!au, modern!au, nerd loser baby Criston, loss of virginity, hot stem computer partner girly, older girl, Alicent for the win, short n sweet n smutty, pnv!sex, first dates, Criston’s inner dialogue, subby lil baby

Taglist: @bambitas @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @starogeorgina @moncherrii @valeskafics @arcielee @lovelykhaleesiii @sugarpoppss2

A/N: shout-out to @fairysluna “he looks like a loser who jacks off to hentai but I’d fuck him.” I made the divider :)

Criston knew he was a fucking incel. Maybe at some point in his miserable life he could’ve done a sport and use his decent height and muscle tone. But no, he was cripplingly shy and had a stutter that took forever to get rid of— sometimes rearing its ugly head when he was angry or flustered.

He spent his time studying, playing league of legends, and jerking off obscenely to hentai. Yes, the Japanese porn comics. It was easier to ignore how pathetic he was reading those or talking to a chat bot that thought everything he said was hot.

Criston thought best to keep under the radar, head down and attentive in his classes. One day he’d be a rich computer scientist Silicon Valley type and then he could just, like, have the girls come to him. Because he’d be rich. No longer weird, ugly, and a huge VIRGIN. He felt like it was stamped on his forehead. Or perhaps his was the Star Wars buttons on his jacket— that’s a big cue.

He tucked a dark hair behind his ear, shaking his head. Another year, but one less until he could move on in life. Cole was glad he was in college, it was scores better than the constant bullies in highschool. It was his second year now and he was ahead of schedule. He’d be in an upper level compsci class with some juniors or seniors.

Scary.

Maybe there would be some other weirdo girl like him that would take pity and they could fuck, then go to Thursday’s Dungeons and Dragons like it never occurred. He’d like that. Swift and easy. Erryk Cargyll and Elinda Massey did that. But the only girl he considered ‘friend’ was Alicent and he was pretty sure she was a lesbian. Also totally not a nerd, Ali was very cool and involved.

He sighed while ducking into a seat. Criston carefully placed his stuff down at the two person desk, focusing on getting the PC ready. The instructions on the board were simple enough.

A waft of perfume and the presence of another body startled Criston. He jumped in place, brown eyes glancing over at the girl- no- woman. She was fucking hot. Like why was she sitting next to him type of hot?

“Hi,” she extended a hand, eyes roving, “Criston!”

“H-how do you know m-my name?,” he echoed stupidly, shaking her dainty hand, eyes comically wide.

She gently let go of his hand after shaking one second too long and giggled, “It’s on your backpack.” Criston blushed bright red and nodded, “Yeah, you’re right, ha-haha?” Oh God he was going to self combust. She was so hot. Like she had these patent leather boots on, a little red plaid skirt, and some tight-ass high-necked white tank.

“What’s your name?,” he managed, grateful the stutter wasn’t making too much of an appearance. She smiled and told him, baring white teeth and cherry red lips. The teacher droned from the front, “Glad you’re acquainted now, that will be your partner for the rest of the semester.”

Cole was going to jizz himself. Not in the fun way? Maybe the fun way? He was terrified. He had to tell the boys on Thursday. The beauty next to him raised her brows and flicked one of his errant curls. She whispered, “Can’t wait, Criston!”

Oh God. Oh God! He wasn’t going to make it.

“Hnghhhh, fuck yes, I am your sempai, mmm,” Criston flopped back from his hentai and laid on the bed, “Fuck. This sucks.” His cock was still hard and nothing was cutting it recently. The twenty year old’s mind was settled on his computer science partner. Who was obscenely beautiful and sexy and smelled good and so so so smart.

Oh. He was jacking off again. Maybe this was what the missing piece was. Criston closed his eyes and began to pump his cock some more, imagining her perky tits bouncing as he fucked her over a desk. He gasped sharply, prick twitching excitedly at something tangible.

He thought about the cute way she’d laugh at his dumb jokes. Or when he’d fix something in a faulty program and she’d purr, “Oh! Smart boyyyy.” He whined through his nose, squirming in place, imagining her breathing that in his ear. Criston cried out sharply, cumming so damn hard spunk reached his collarbones.

He laid there breathless, a dopey smile across his face. She was so perfect. He laid in his post-nut bliss and pondered his partners actions. For a girl older and way cooler than him, she sure did enjoy talking to him, even had his number, and they met outside of class to work on their project.

Could there be? No, no. Totally not.

The nerd thought about the times she blushed or would bat his shoulder. Or the time they nearly kissed putting together a PC. She’d merely laughed and said, “Just have to ask me!” He had a meltdown and awkwardly laughed it off. Criston did the same when she was wearing a low-cut top and she breathed, “I wore this for you today, I know you wanna look Cole.”

He sat upright with a bolt.

“Wait what?” he shouted.

“Shut the fuck up loser!,” came the reply of his apartment roommate. Criston rolled his eyes and blinked a couple more times. He still had cum drying on his shoulders from jacking off about the girl of his pathetic dreams and she might be into him? He needed a long shower and help from Ali— stat.

She came through quite quickly after he sent the SOS message. First Ali wrinkled her nose at his room and complained, “Ugh, I’m glad I brought my candles. It smells like man in here. God.” He gave her puppy eyes until the redhead exclaimed, “What?”

“You gotta help me!,” he pled, “I uh- someone likes me back?”

It was a flurry of cinnamon scented womanly magic after his admission. Bless Alicat.

The auburn haired girl swished through Criston’s wardrobe. She raised a brow at him and asked, “Is there anything in here that doesn’t have a logo or some strange wording on it? I can’t believe you just realized she was into you, I could smack you!”

He sat on the bed, freshly showered and in his briefs. Alicent and him had known each other since childhood— this was nothing new. Ali helped him type out a witty way to ask her out tonight without being too dorky. Criston eked, “I think I have some button downs my dad gave me, but they’re probably shoved somewhere.”

“Aha! Found them, still pressed too. I think this darker tan will look good,” she said while stepping out of the closet. Honors college had nice digs. It did pay to be a nerd. Criston eyed the polo shirt, leagues away from his usual t-shirts and jackets.

Alicent narrowed her eyes. He hopped up and sighed, “Fine, fine, I’m putting it on. Just lemme get the undershirt.”

Now he was clad in a nice top, some not worn-to-death jeans, and his rarely used church loafers. He was a pretty shitty Catholic. Alicent styled his wild curls, giggling, “Look at you go, who would’ve thought, you two are going to be some lookers!”

Criston rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Yeah, hoping she doesn’t mind the big neon-lit ‘virgin’ sign over my head.”

Ali snickered, “Or the nasty cartoons you jerk it too, might wanna get rid of that evidence if you’re planning on getting that far, yeah stud?”

He blanched, stuttering up a storm as she laughed. Criston grabbed all and any evidence of his…prior predilections..and hid them under the bed. In a big lockbox. Then completely wiped his browser history and any suspicious downloads. Fire walled it or whatever.

He sighed again, getting jittery, reading a text from the cutie.

‘Hey handsome, still see you in 30 on the plaza? I’m excited for the pizza and games! 💋’

Criston immediately squawked, “Ali!”

She ‘tsked’ and looked at the text. Then looked back at him with a funny look. Alicent deadpanned, “You’re such an idiot for being smart. I wish half the girls I texted were this forward. Just tell her yes, you can’t wait, you know she’s gonna look gorgeous and throw some emoji in!”

“So you are a lesbian?”

“And you’re not telling a soul!”

They pinky promised, Ali giving him a warm hug and pat on the cheek. She teased, “Luv yaaaa Nerd, don’t forget to wrap it!” He blushed and waved her off. Criston rubbed the back of his neck, glad he had such a good friend. He quickly typed back.

‘Hi- yeah I’ll see you there. I know you’ll be gorgeous, can’t wait xx’

The date had gone great. They didn’t ID either. So beers, pizza, and dumb arcade games they played. Criston probably had her up-down look at him sketched into his mind. She was in a cutesy dress herself, cut mid-thigh and a heart shaped window in the front to show her…assets. Not to forget some Doc’s he would gladly be stomped by.

“Criston, oh my god, you look so cute, who dressed you up,” she pulled him into a tight hug, whispering, “Should I be jealous?”

He sheepishly smiled, “No, just my childhood friend, she’s kinda, we’re not, you know.”

His class partner giggled, patting his chest, “No need, I gotcha. We all need those friends. C’mon let’s go!”

He couldn’t help but goofily smile down at her as they held hands walking to the pizza joint. Sometimes Criston would get so lost in his head and self-conscious, it would seem like he was always underfoot. But tonight, with her, he felt his right size. She grabbed their interlaced hands and pecked his skin, giggling.

Christ have mercy, lord have mercy. He was so down bad.

But as he said, the night went awesome. Conversation never lulled, he taught her the secret to ski-ball, and she schooled Criston in pac-man. He got his first kiss on the walk back, paused at the stoplight, waiting to walk. She pulled back and murmured, “You’ve been the best date.”

Criston, likely all moony eyes now, gushed back, “God, same, really, you’re great you know that? I’m just a bit clueless.”

She shrugged, “That’s okay. We don’t have to know everything.”

They walked near the honor’s college. They both chirped at the same time, “You uh-“ then burst into laughter. Criston grinned and ran a hand through his inky hair. He shuffled his balance and gestured, “Do you want to come back to my room? It’s all clean and female verified.”

“Lead the way handsome.”

Criston was glad for the bit of liquid courage still in his system, kissing and hugging on his ‘friend girl’? She was so sweet and touchy, it was driving him mad. He idly wondered if she was all sweet and adorable like that in bed. Thankfully his dick was tucked away.

The brunette keyed into his room, her arms around his waist, face smushed into his back. The junior cooed, “You smell good, you’re the cutest thing I swear, can’t believe this.” Criston eyed her nervously as he stepped in, replying, “You’re a catch, I can’t believe anyone wouldn’t go for you.”

She straightened up, looking into his dark eyes as she admitted, “No, it wasn’t that I was lacking…just searched for the wrong attention I suppose. You’re actually respectful.”

Criston smiled at that, snorting, “Catholic boy values I guess.”

“Or you are a good boy like I said,” she teased, thumbing Criston’s now-flaming cheeks.

“Can I kiss you again?” he eagerly asked.

They locked lips again, her arms around his neck, Criston tilting his face so his damn nose wouldn’t get in the way. His hands were politely shaking at her waist as they made out. Her tongue softly lapped into his mouth, the man gasping and returning the favor.

She moved his shaky hands down to her ass with a snicker. Criston groaned between kisses as he groped her pert ass— fuck, this was heaven! Cole walked her backwards towards the bed, pushing her back onto the freshly made covers. She smiled up at him, lips plump, the led lights from his room casting a neat glow.

“Come on then, can you get the shoes?,” she teased while shucking off her tight black dress. Criston eagerly dropped to the ground, whimpering as his hard cock painfully brushed against the fly of his pants. He quickly undid the thick boots and neatly placed them to the side.

Coming back up, he got an eyeful of pretty fucking titties and manicured hands on his waist. She purred, “Heard you down there, all good babes?” Criston nodded with a swallow and pathetic noise. She cooed while undoing his belt and pants, reminding him of the button down.

Now Criston’s lean body was on display with her own, only underwear between the two. That was perfectly dandy for him as he clambered over her perfect form, now playfully making out on their sides. Every single time his cock would graze the random throw pillow between them he’d whimper into her wet mouth, growing flustered. The front of his briefs were getting sticky.

He tried to not to rut against it, but he had a handful of fucking tit and her soft lips and noises, and Criston was only a weak little bitch! She pulled back to laugh, “You know, I’d much prefer you fuck me making those cute noises. But that’s up to you baby.”

He blinked owlishly, hand moving up her thigh to ask. “You don’t want me to uh- touch you first?”

“Sweetheart, I’m wet enough as is and we can worry about alllll that other stuff later hm?”

Criston made a gutted noise, nodding. She was right, he’d blow all over himself if he got to feel around her pussy for a bit. He rasped, “Yeah, okay, good- lemme get the condom.” He reached over her smaller frame, digging around the side table for the damn condom, trying to put his bravest face on.

Criston made a little ‘aha’ as he snagged the packet, settling onto his haunches and ripping the packet with his teeth. Meanwhile she undid her bra and shucked down wet panties, the slickness hitting his lean thigh. “Hng-fucking shit!,” the brunette accidentally moaned.

“Yeah babes? That’s all for you, here, lemme help.”

She grabbed the tacky lubed condom, rolling it on Criston, her teeth biting into a plump lip. He shuddered through the movement, taught tummy tensing and rolling as he tried to calm down. “There we go, you’re alright, just breathe sweeatheart,” the girl cooed.

Criston nodded haphazardly, easing himself onto his elbows, staring wide-eyed into her own. He wanted to blab about being a virgin, how he was scared of fucking up, how damn pretty and sweet the brunette thought she was. The beauty pecked his lips and cooed, “I know, take it easy, s’fine Criston.”

He jerkily nodded again, lashes fluttering against the faint neon lighting. Criston grabbed his cock and began to ease it into her, gasping wetly. His computer partner took over from there, wrapping soft legs around his waist, murmuring sweet nothings.

Soon he was seated inside her tight, warm, velvet pussy. Criston buried his face between her tits, sniveling and gasping as he tried to fight off every single nerve in his body screaming to let go. He tried to speak, more of a plethora of strangled whines and whimpers escaping his raw throat.

“Shhh, don’t think so much, s’okay Cris, you’re okay,” she hummed while petting soft hands down his heaving flanks and sides. Plush lips planted a kiss on his suddenly wet cheeks. God he was a mess. A whiny, flimsy, wet mess. The way she was squeezing around him made the rational part of his brain realize she enjoyed the pitiful sex still.

“Hn-okay? I- uhohgod- okay?”

She smiled and kissed him, the heels of her feet ushering Criston on. He began to pump slowly, liking the way her soft moan made his chest puff in excitement. The brunette began to build a decent rhythm, panting and moaning between sloppy kisses. He got lost in the feeling, truly.

Soon the cutie was gasping and begging, “Don’t cum yet, j-just, Criston, touch my clit, it’s the nub at the top, yes!, right there!” He listened carefully, thumbing at her swollen nub, panting like a racehorse between suckling at budded nipples. He’d ended up at a breakneck pace, completely over any pretense he was going to make a manly noise tonight.

Criston fought off his orgasm, although it was on top on him now. He moved his lips to hers again, swirling his thumb, thrusting his slim hips into perfect goddamn pussy. He gasped, “Oh, oh, oh God, m’gonna cum baby, m’gonna cummmmm!” The boy would definitely never admit he somewhat squealed.

His cutie whined excitedly under the loud sounds of the bed creaking, lean hips clapping into her softer flesh. She begged, “Right there sweetheart, mm, good boy, good boy! Right there with you!” She clung to his shoulders and tightened down, chanting Criston’s name like a litany.

Criston Cole was pretty sure he saw God when his balls drew up and he slammed back into her welcoming pussy. Sure, there was a condom, but the sophomore’s ears still rung with the choir of angels and he probably sounded like a slip of a thing getting her cunt pounded but it was worth it. So very worth it.

He kept playing with her clit until she milked him, again, crying out happily, throwing her pretty hair back and groaning throatily. “Ohhhhh, f-fuck, oh my god, mmm!,” he eloquently replied to her, feeling another little peak pass through his overstimulated system. He collapsed against her soft frame, panting softly, whimpering every other breath.

Oh god he was crying, this was not the time to be— oh she kissed it away.

“That’s alright baby, you did great, Mhm,” she hummed and nuzzled against his face.

Huh. Maybe he was in love now. Fuck hentai.

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #criston cole #ser criston cole x reader #Criston cole imagine #Ser Criston cole imagine #criston cole x reader #criston cole smut

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arachnoia · 10 months

Text

mode ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ | miguel o’hara

miguel o’hara x afab! reader

in which one of new york’s most famous models runs into an old acquaintance during a modeling gig.

had a lil drabble in mind so i wrote it!! thank you guys so so much for liking my last posts it means a lot!! tbh idk what this was but I was j writing. i’m open to write other characters but need ideas so pls drop some in my requests! formula 1 is also going to be continued v v soon!

thank you! 😪🙏🏼

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You’ve always had aspirations of becoming a model, being on a billboard along with many celebrities you admired.

The posing, the glamour, the attention.

It was a dream you’ve always had, having an insatiable hunger for it.

You drank your chai in peace as you were just finished your Pilates class. You had a photoshoot later on to model some new brand that hit social media and exploded in popularity. It could help both your public images.

“Good morning, N/n!” Jess said, giving you a hug from behind.

Jess is your roommate and has been your best friend since your freshman year in high school. The both of you bonded over American pop culture, fashion, and the immense difficulty of your freshman physics class.

She had your back when you forgot the formula for net force and when you were having emotional turmoil over your crush on Miguel O’Hara.

Everyone knew about your crush on him because who would have a crush on the physics math geek?

You.

He was scrawny, quiet, a nerd, and no one knew who he was. Until people found out you liked him, which was obvious because you would get caught staring at him from across the lunchroom multiple times.

The two of you were polar opposites socially.

You weren’t popular, to say the least, but it’s not like people didn’t know who you are. There were a decent amount of people who liked you in high school, but you only had your eye on him.

Like Jess, he was also in your physics class freshman year and caught your eye.

He’s the reason why you wanted to do modeling.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was junior year in your AP Lang class and you two were doing peer reviews for an essay.

You two were in a library near your high school. It was quiet until he just blurted out: “You should consider modeling, Y/n.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden compliment, “What?”

He just shrugged and pushed up his square glasses. “I’m just saying that you’d look nice on a cover of a magazine. You look the type.”

“O-Oh…Thanks?”

You mentally slapped yourself for sounding so awkward.

His face stayed as nonchalant as always, “Mhm.”

It was safe to say that there wasn’t a single word spoken after that.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Jess tied up her hair and stretched. “Do you need a ride? Isn’t the studio in Manhattan?”

You shook your head and sipped your chai, “Nope, it’s in Brooklyn. And it’s okay! I have some errands to run after the shoot if it won’t take long.”

“Alright, girl. What’s the guy’s name again? The guy that owns the brand.”

“I think his name's Gabriel?” You shrugged and took a bite out of your açaí bowl. Jess took a spoon and ate some too.

“Wow! You just take my breakfast huh?”

Jess giggled and ran back to her room, “Good luckkkk!”

You scoffed and smiled, “You bitch!”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You took the train to get to the studio and walked there.

It was a little apartment building that had some graffiti on the side of the wall. You liked how nice the graffiti was.

You went inside and knocked on the door for apartment 206.

You heard some clutter and a voice all of a sudden, “-Coming!”

The door opened to a young man, maybe in his 20s? Early 30s?

“Hi, my name is Gabriel! You’re Y/n Y/l/n? I’ve heard so much about you! You’re an amazing model. Your magazine shoot with Vogue was so nice!” he gushed.

His voice sounded really familiar but wasn’t at the same time.

“Oh thank you so much! Your brand is actually really nice! Thank you for reaching out! Can I come in?”

He rushed in and stood to the side of the door, “Of course! Come right in!”

The apartment was really nice and was a decent size. Not too big and small.

Some assistants were running around getting some clothes ready and preparing the violet backdrop with a silver desk that looked like something out of Star Wars.

You got into many different outfits which were really modern and motorsport-ish.

It reminded you of that futuristic streetwear style that’s growing these days, which was really fresh to see.

Gabriel popped in from the lounge area where you were already dressed to go home, “You did really good! Again thank you so much for coming! It’s going to do the brand so so well!”

You smiled and nodded, “Of course! It was nice meeting-“

You heard the door open and was interrupted by another voice, “Hey Gabri, you left your electronic watch at my place.”

Gabriel smiled and went over to claim his watch, punching the man in the arm, “Thanks Miggy!”

Your face twisted from a smile to a shocked expression.

“Oh! Y/n, meet my older brother, Miguel!” Gabriel said, pointing at his brother.

“Miggy, meet Y/n Y/l/n! She’s an awesome model who’s helping me promote my brand!”

He looked over to you and stared, “I’ve heard of who she is.”

You couldn’t help but have your jaw drop. Your eyes couldn’t believe it.

That scrawny, shy kid from high school was no more. He got replaced by a man with a body identical to a greek god’s, beautiful, luscious locks of chestnut hair, and gorgeous arms.

He still had his old square glasses which added charm to the rest of his outfit; a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants.

He made you feel like you were back in high school, crushing on him while he explained formulas to you.

“I said ‘hi’, Ms. Y/l/n,” he smiled, looking you up and down. You didn’t know if he was being judgmental or just observing.

“O-Oh! Hi!” You held at your hand to Miguel, who looked a slight bit amused and shook it.

“My brother here is a chemical engineer at this place, Alche-what?”

Miguel rolled his eyes and laughed, “Alchemax. And it’s nice to meet you, miss.”

Gabriel smiled and checked his phone due to it ringing loudly, “Shoot! I have to pick up some fabric I ordered. It’s the last one they have! Migs, please lock up! Good bye, Ms. Y/l/n!”

Gabriel ran out the studio and threw the keys at Miguel, who caught them quickly.

Miguel looked back at you and smiled sarcastically, “Y’know, it would’ve been nice if you weren’t eye fucking me in front of my own brother, Ms. Y/l/n.”

You felt shivers down your spine.

The way your last name rolled off his tongue was so sexy, especially with that slight accent he’s always had.

You tried to say something so you wouldn’t look like a complete idiot in front of your high school crush, “E-Excuse me…?“

“You heard me, Y/n.”

Oh fuck.

“I b-believe you’re mistaken. I would never do that in a professional setting with someone I work with.”

You mentally cheered yourself on. You weren’t sounding like an idiot anymore.

You don’t think.

He hummed and shrugged, “I didn’t think I would see you working with my brother, yet here we are. How’s life been?”

What the fuck?

How could he be so calm and asking ‘how’s life?’ after accusing you for eyefucking him.

He wasn’t wrong but it’s embarrassing.

“It’s fine. So you work at Alchemax?”

“Yeah. We’re working on something right now, but I can’t tell you.” He started chuckling and folded his arms

God, how much you loved that in high school.

Even then, he would make every single little thing so sexy.

In high school, he looked like he had never experienced a touch of a woman.

But now…

“Why not?”

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, “It’s top secret, nena.”

You looked at him from the side of your eye and he locked eyes with you.

You couldn’t deny the rough tension in the room.

His eyes were a beautiful shade of ruby red, accentuated thanks to the blinding glare of the studio lights still being on.

Then you locked your eyes to his lips. They were so full and beautiful and you wanted to kiss them.

He smiled at you and was going to pull back from his leaning position before you wrapped your arms around his neck and connected your lips to his.

You’ve been waiting since freshman year to kiss him. Who could blame you?

What you didn’t expect is for him to kiss you back, more rough and passionate.

You felt him smile a bit, making you kiss him even more.

It didn’t take long for you and Miguel to walk towards the desk, where he broke from the kiss and pushed you against the desk, ass facing him.

You were still in disbelief that you were making out with your high school crush so suddenly, making your heart pound.

You were wearing one of your favorite outfits; a black corset top and a white lace skirt you stole from Jess.

You felt him rub your ass before he spanked it under your skirt, hearing him growl a bit. “Fuck…”

He leaned towards to kiss your cheek, feeling his hard bulge from his sweatpants. “Let me make you feel good, cariño.”

Did you mention you loved it when he spoke in Spanish? You loved it when he spoke in general.

You turned around and sat on the desk as you took off your top and slid down your skirt, leaving you in your panties.

He looked at you up and down again, now with underlying lust and darkness in his eyes, “I’ve been waiting to do this since high school.”

He roughly took his shirt off and also slid down his pants, leaving you to gawk at his stunningly toned body.

“Like what you see? Careful, mi bélla, you have something aquí,” he smirked as he caressed your face.

He placed his hand on your hip and played with the string of your underwear before ripping it apart with his (abnormally?) long nails.

“That’s better,” he said as he pulled the piece of clothing off of you. He took off his boxers and as soon as he did that, you kneeled down and started rubbing on his length.

“Let me make you feel good first.” You started grazing your lips on it and kissed his swollen tip, already oozing with precum.

You put him inside your mouth and he started to gently thrust as you started to suck.

“Yeah baby, you feel so fucking good-"

You felt like gagging, taking him all, thick, long, and veiny.

It didn’t take long for him to ejaculate in your mouth, having you swallow and some of his cum spilling on the sides of your mouth.

“God, you look so sexy like this,” he whispered, brushing some of your hair away from your face. You smiled up at him as he bit his lip.

He sat you on top of the desk, legs wide open.

He started to play with your clit and inserted two fingers almost immediatly to your already wet core.

"M-Miguel...fuck."

You whimpered quietly as he started to fingerfuck you fastly.

He chuckled darkly, "If you can't handle my fingers, then I'd like to see you handle my cock."

You laughed dryly and cried out as he went even faster.

Right as you were going to come, he stopped.

"Why did you do that," you slurred, feeling high on the sexual tension.

"Don't worry, just wait."

He whispered as he kept teasing your poor clit and started to pump his dick.

"Shhhhh" he muttered as he started to insert himself inch by inch, “Estas haciendo bien, mi linda. AY DIOS-"

Your eyes widened at how much he stretched you out, and it was barely the tip. "Oh fuck, Miguel-"

"D-Don't worry, baby. You're doing good..."

You scratched at his back as you bounced again and again. "O-Oh my fucking god..."

You felt like you were in a porn movie with how loud your moans and how bright the studio lights were, accentuating every crease and muscle on Miguel’s hot body.

You couldn’t help but stare as he mindlessly rearranges your organs fucking you.

You started to hold on to his arms as he went at a violent pace.

“A-Alchemax must stress the living shit out of you, h-huh? F-FUCK!”

He smiled a bit as he went a little faster, “You can’t...imagine. Estos pinche- PUTA MADRÉ-"

You felt him twitch inside of you and release, filling you up to the brim as you released your high as well.

"Oh s-shit..."

You mumbled before covering your face, turning over to hide your face and just bent over.

He kissed your exhausted body on the desk, all sweaty and hot from your tiring activities from earlier.

As he dressed up again, he couldn’t help but stare at his masterpiece; having Y/n Y/l/n, one of New York’s most respected models, in such a slutted out position.

Bent over and trembling, filled up to the rim with his cum.

Although he was a chemical engineer at such a highly respected place such as Alchemax, he couldn't help but feel proud that he had you like this.

Just for him.

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