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#bing x bang
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MEGA Smut-Shots Masterlist
The Sharpest Tool In The Shed (Shrek x Lord Farquaad)
Getting Freaky On a Friday Night (Pico x Boyfriend)
The Wall Around Our Love (Donald Trump x Elmo)
Banging Into You (Bing x Bang)
Above and Beyond (Kwazii x Peso)
A Juicy Big Mac, Please (Ronald McDonald x Kurger Bing)
A Warm Welcome (Cookie Monster x Elmo)
Sweet Puddin' (Harley Quinn x The Joker)
The Suffocating Scent Of Lust (Joe Biden x Donald Trump)
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thefreakandthehair · 1 year
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@eddiemonth prompt, oct 4th: Rejection | Arsonist’s Lullaby - Hozier | Lost a/n: pre-steddie post-s4, angst with soft, happy ending because I'm a marshmallow. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to series on ao3
All Eddie Munson has ever wanted to do is play music. 
That’s it. There are other hobbies, of course, other things that bring him joy– D&D, fantasy novels, art– but ever since he was a kid, whenever a teacher would ask what he wants to be when he grows up, it’s always the same answer. 
I wanna play music. 
As a kid, it seems less daunting. He just has to practice, he just has to play, he just has to have the passion to make it big. To be the next Kirk Hammett, or Eddie Van Halen, or Ozzy Osbourne if he can teach himself to carry a tune. 
Making friends is hard, but he manages to find a few in middle school who can play the instruments he can’t– drums, bass. Eddie takes the role of frontman, not exactly a singer still but he’s charismatic enough to get away with it at their school talent show.
High school comes, and Corroded Coffin is revamped. New vibe, new members. He’s older now, a little more jaded with each rejection. 
No one wants their EP, recorded by hand in Gareth’s garage onto cheap cassette tapes. 
No venue will let them play, and Eddie knows that it’s probably because they’re in high school but hadn’t The Cure started in high school? 
No one believes in them, trying to push them– especially Eddie– to consider more successful careers, safer paths. 
But eventually, they book a regular gig at The Hideout and Eddie’s certain this is it. This is their big break. Until they play week after week, staring at the same five plastered faces every Tuesday. If they can prove themselves though, the owner will have to let them play on a Friday or Saturday.
He never does. 
The final nail in the proverbial coffin comes after Eddie’s final senior year. Being accused of murder should have beefed up his credibility if nothing else– he’s already been traumatized, terrorized, and hunted like a goddamn dog, nevermind almost killed via hoard of angry mutant bats. Surely, he’ll catch at least one break. 
And then the owner at The Hideout tells him he can’t play there anymore. 
The hoards of people who still blame him for Chrissy Cunningham’s death are too much for him to manage himself and, in his words, Eddie’s driving away good business. His heart shatters, his breath catches, and Eddie leaves without a word because if he were to try to speak, all that would come out is either an enraged scream or a choked sob and Eddie doesn’t want to risk either. 
He drives around aimlessly for an unknown amount of time, just circles around the outskirts of Hawkins. Maybe I’ll just leave, he thinks. Indianapolis might be far enough. Maybe Chicago. Fuck it, maybe Argyle and Jonathan can put me up for awhile in California. Eddie wants to go somewhere that makes him forget just how lost he is, how unwanted and forgotten he’s become. Being the social pariah is only fun when he’s making speeches on cafeteria tables, not when it boots him out of his one and only career path. 
Somehow, he ends up in Loch Nora. He can’t face Wayne right now, he doesn’t want to bother Robin or Nancy, he’s already let Jeff, Gareth, and Freak down in the worst way imaginable, and if he goes to his mom’s or Chrissy’s tombstones with one more sob story, he’s afraid they’ll start haunting him. Steve’s become a friend over the last year or so it makes sense. Process of elimination and all of that. 
He doesn’t have the mental bandwidth to realize that he’d started driving that way before he ruled everyone else out. 
Steve welcomes him like he always does and offers him a beer, sitting with him in companionable silence on the couch as they watch Monty Python and The Holy Grail and laugh at the same parts. Eddie knows Steve can see that he’s upset but instead of asking questions Eddie isn’t ready to answer, he just sits a little closer with their thighs touching and one arm strewn over the back of the couch, just barely grazing Eddie’s shoulder. 
The movie ends and Steve moves to switch the tape when Eddie finally speaks up. 
“The Hideout kicked us out. Can’t play there anymore.” 
Eddie sees Steve freeze from behind before turning, his eyebrows knitted together above his nose. “Are you fucking serious?” 
He nods and sighs, lifting one hand to chew on this thumbnail as he looks at the wall beyond Steve. 
“That’s bullshit, dude. Why? Because of the protestors or whatever?” 
He nods again. 
“Want me to go down there? I’ve still got my bat around here somewhere. It might be nice to swing at something that’s not trying to like, eat me.” 
Eddie huffs a small laugh through his nose and meets Steve’s eyes, their righteous anger blending with his own as he sees Steve cross his arms over his chest. It’s hard not to stare. 
 “Well, then at least I wouldn’t be the only guy in this town wanted for murder.” 
Steve shakes his head and just chooses another movie, Howard the Duck this time, before returning to his spot on the couch. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite movies but he can’t focus to save his life because Steve is even closer now, his arm draped fully across Eddie’s shoulders and creating a space for Eddie to easily just… rest. So he does. 
The title sequence starts and Eddie’s head drops to the side, resting on Steve’s shoulder. It’s one of his favorites but he can’t follow the plot to save his life. All he can focus on is the way Steve’s fingers trace symptoms and shapes against the cotton of his tee shirt, and the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the feeling of Steve’s head leaning against the top of his. 
“I had a new song and everything,” Eddie whispers, surprising both himself and Steve. 
Steve hums and tightens his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, a ghost of a hug. “Play it for me sometime?”
All Eddie Munson has ever wanted to do is play music. And maybe he still can.
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stopthatbluecat · 1 year
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Badda-Bing Badda-Bang - Julian/Kasidy
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heres some older art, enjoy your ship crumbs!!!! eat up!!!!!
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bobsterspace · 1 year
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Quick doodle I am inevitable since I always give myself that title I may as well draw myself looking like it
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motormouthedfool · 2 years
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THEY ARE BOYFRIENDS YOUR HONOR
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silentcryracha · 2 months
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❍ ‗ Showering with Bang Chan ‗ ❍
Pairing : Bang Chan x f reader
Summary : chapter one of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title
Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, nudity and suggestive themes involved but no smut fluff, literally ONE angst word, domestic!, channie best boyfriend idc
Word count : 500
A/n : none
ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎
masterlist
series masterpost
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Imagine showering with Chan. It could either go very chill or very *exciting*. Usually starts with the first and follows with the second BUT- just in general it would be such an intimate time. The possibilities are endless to be honest.
You came to a certain point in your relationship in which you were a hundred percent comfortable with each other. And most importantly loved doing things for each other!
"Can you massage in the conditioner for me?" "Of course baby"
You'd both help the other, moving your hands up and down each other's bodies, often giving small massages and relaxing the tense muscles. Chan especially just melts whenever you touch him, two of his favorite spots bing his neck and shoulders.
"Oh my Gosh that hurts so good" he whines as your fingers work his aching neck, basically turned marble from being bent over a laptop all day.
"It hurts or it's nice, which one is it?" you tease him, chuckling. He groans slightly, almost too gone to even answer.
"Shush. Mmh, both. I don't know, just keep going" his head first leaning forward then back, almost touching your shoulder.
You'd relax together, getting all soapy and wet under the hot water. Sometimes just lazily hugging and making out, losing track of time.
"We should get out, it's getting so hot I think I may pass out" you murmur against his swollen lips. He starts kissing your neck instead, humming.
"You flatter me too much" it takes you a second to let sink in what he just said, but when it did, you lightly slapped his naked shoulder, snorting a laugh.
"Stupid" he smiled, chuckling cheekily, and you could literally feel it on your skin.
Sometimes it was a matter of saving time instead of having fun, though. Maybe one morning you were both running late so while he was shaving you were also shaving, or washing your hair. Or vice versa honestly.
And other times again you even had small arguments while showering. Nothing really major because it wasn't exactly appropriate to pour out your feelings while being literally naked and wet, but a few times it did happen.
It usually either ended up being interrupted and finishing once you were both dry and ready to go at each other, or literally be the calming moment you needed to clear things up.
"I'm sorry if i was an asshole earlier" he rests his forehead on the nape of your neck, wrapping his arms around you. You sigh, placing your hands on his jointed ones.
"I know you're very stressed" you start, turning your head to the side searching for his, "But thanks for the apology nonetheless"
"I love you", he nuzzled his nose on your cheek.
"I love you too" you pecked him on the lips as a confirmation you forgave him.
Anyways lots of cuddles and massages and kisses and stuff!! Chan king of caring for his partner 100% <3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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queen-of-fanfics · 1 year
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Stay Away From Him
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Prompt: Miguel is jealous of your closeness with Hobie and tells you to stay from him.
A/N: Well I have had too much free time at work and all I've been doing is writing. Kinda love it. Also, how did y'all like Across the Spider-Verse? I saw it four times in theaters, it's like a drug in my veins. Anywho I figured I wanted to do a fanfic in a world that I haven't done yet so here it is!
Part 2
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“Hey, Y/N.”
“Hey, Peter!”
“Hey, Y/N”
“Oh hey, Peters.”
“Oi! Y/N!” Recognizing the accent, you look up in the air and see Hobie swinging his way over to you.
“Hobie! What are you doing here?!”
This was your second week working inside the Spider-Verse headquarters. You were the only person there who wasn’t some version of Spiderman. One day, Miguel O’Hara was in your universe for a job, bing bang boom, next thing you knew, he offered you a job. Your job here at headquarters was to act as his assistant of sorts. Help him with errands, help him on missions, and fetch him lunch because the poor man will work until he starves. That was exactly what you are doing now. You had finished locating the latest anomaly and went down to the cafeteria to grab him some empanadas.
Working at headquarters was like a living dream. So far, everyone seems to like you and you’ve already made friends. Hobie and Gwen welcomed you with open arms and the three of you became inseparable. During your time working with Miguel, you may have developed a little crush on your boss. You never told anyone about how your heart starts beating faster or how your breath gets shaky when he stands a little too close. Though, you never had to say because everyone could see it. And everyone warned you away from the infamous Miguel O’Hara.
“He’s not for you. He’s obsessed with his work and barely knows what having fun or being nice is. I doubt he even knows there’s a life outside of this place.” Gwen said one day during lunch.
“Who’s not for me? What are you talking about? I’m just here to work.” You shovel food into your mouth in an attempt to hide your face.
“Mmhmm, sure. You can deny it all you want but if you keep staring at him all weird like that, even he’s going to start to notice. Just trust me, you should just try to stay away from him. Which I guess isn’t possible since he’s your boss but you know what I mean.” 
“Though it does raise the question as to why he recruited her, don’t it?” Hobie chimes in. 
Hobie jumps on your back and it pulls you back to the present.
“I’m here for it! Whatchu think? I would willingly come here? Nah.”
“Actually! We just finished a mission so we just came to check in with Miguel.” Gwen swings down and lands right next to you. The three of you continue walking side by side down the hall to Miguel. Hobie throws his arm casually around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side.
You walk into the main room and see that Miguel is standing on his platform up in the air. There are a few people milling around the room, minding their business. People tend to hover around Miguel in case any missions come up or if he needs help.
“Miguel! I got you some empanadas!” You yell up at him.
He turns and barely glances over his shoulder at the three of you. He grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance but his platform starts its slow descent. Gwen runs over to Jessica and they start talking. Hobie walks with you over to your little desk that sits on the ground floor …. like a regular person.
“So we still on for tonight?” Hobie asks.
“What’s tonight?” You turn and ask Hobie. You lean your butt against the desk to look up at him. He gets in close, places his hands against the desk on both sides of you, and cages you in with his arms.
“Whatchu mean what’s tonight? Did you forget already? Thought you and Gwen were staying in my place tonight!” Hobie teases you.
“Oh, Hobie! I forgot about that, I can’t come over.” Gwen yells over before she turns back to her conversation.
“Guess it’s just us then.” He mumbles and gives you a wink.
Before you could respond, Miguel’s voice booms through the large chamber.
“Y/N isn’t going anywhere tonight.” Looking over, you see that Miguel has lowered his platform as far as it could go and he is staring directly at the two of you with a deadly look on his face. All the conversations in the room died down and you could tell that everyone's eyes were looking between you and Miguel. Everyone treads carefully around Miguel … everyone except Hobie. 
“What? You keeping her hostage now?”
All of a sudden feeling nervous, unsure as to what put Miguel in a foul mood and not wanting to make it worse, you try to straighten up and stand in attention but Hobie isn’t moving. 
“We’ve got work to do here, Hobie. Unlike you, some of us have things we have to do.” Miguel crosses his arms and stares down at Hobie. 
“What work? We caught all the known anomalies already. Plus I was going to work on my bike, give it some more bells and whistles.” Jessica pipes up.
“There’s more work to do than just waiting around for things to happen.” 
“Then what do I gotta do, hmm?” Jessica sasses back to him.
“Nothing. I, uh, just want to do some surveillance. Never know ”
“And what Y/N got to do with it, then?” Hobie asks, giving Miguel a weird look.
“Y/N is my assistant. Y/N must assist me. And get off of her Hobie.”
“Right, but it don’t sound like there is any real work to do. I don’t see why Y/N gotta sit here and suffer being around you. And, uh, I’m actually quite comfortable where I am.”
“No no, I don’t mind. It’s my job. I can stay” You rush to say as you start pushing at Hobie’s shoulders. 
Hobie turned slowly to look at you without budging and you just stared up at him. “Move.” you mouth to Hobie with beseechment in your eyes. But all he does is smile at you and barely visibly shakes his head ‘No’. Eyes wide, you think to yourself, I’m not going to have a job after this. The room is still silent and no one speaks as the tension rises. 
“Everyone out!” Miguel booms, “Looks like no one wants to work anyways. It’s not as if we’re trying to save the entire universe or anything.” 
“Oh! Miguel, we wanted to check in about the-” Gwen is cut off when Miguel turns back around to his monitors and yells, “OUT!”
Everyone exchanges nervous looks around the room while they pick up their things. The whole time though, Hobie is looking down at you with a knowing smirk on his face. “What are you smiling about?” You hiss at him as you push him up so you can grab your bag and head out. 
“Oh just something I think you should find out for yourself. And you might soon.”
“Ugh, I’m going to kill you.” 
Hobie throws his arm around you and leads you out, “Yeah sure, but hey, looks like you can come over after all, aye?”
“Everyone except for Y/N!” You whirl around at the sudden sound but Miguel is still just looking at his monitors.
“Damn, looks like you’re going to find out real soon. See ya sweet cheeks.” Hobie gives you a wink and walks out with everyone else. 
You stood in the doorway waiting for Miguel’s instructions but after a few beats, you realized that he wasn’t going to turn around and talk to you. Slowly walking back to your desk, you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in the room did not leave along with everyone else. It still lay thick and heavy in the air. Taking off your bag and placing it on your desk, you turn around to face Miguel. You open your mouth to say something to break the silence but he cuts you off. 
“Come up here and help me look at this.” 
Your eyes grew wide and you hurried over to the dais. Your heartbeat started quickening with excitement, you have never been invited onto the platform before. Miguel looks down his nose at you with a disgusted look on his face as you struggle to even get your leg on the platform.
“Sorry, don’t got webs like y’all. Give me a second.”
You finally heave yourself up and flop over on your back, gulping down deep breaths of air. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m out of shape.” Figuring that it was time to actually get to work, you jump up to your feet and face the monitors.
“Alrighty, so what am I looking at?” All of the monitors were showing different videos of different universes. Some other monitors had new articles and alerts of potential disturbances. 
“Just, uh, keep an eye on some of the security cameras we have posted around. See if you catch any suspicious activity.”
“Were you expecting something to happen tonight? Did you get a tip?”
“No, just doing our due diligence to keep everything in line.” 
Your brows furrowed in confusion and you gave Miguel a side-eye look. This is what he’s keeping me here to do? To watch some cameras? 
The whole time he was talking to you and giving you instructions, he did not glance at you, just busily pressing buttons and typing something.
About 10 minutes went by in absolute silence with Miguel working and you … “working”. Getting bored and tired on your feet, you start leaning around the table and let out a sigh. Miguel looks at you over his shoulder but turns back to his work. Another 10 minutes go by before he asks, “So you and Hobie are friends?”
Surprised by the question and surprised he even spoke, you responded, “Yeah, I would like to think so. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.”
“You two have gotten close?”
Getting confused by his line of questioning, you give him a weird look that he doesn’t see. “I mean, I don’t know about close. We hang out with Gwen too. It’s usually the three of us.”
A few silent beats fall between the two of you before he responds, “I didn’t know you were visiting different universes.”
“Hmm, I’m not really. Besides my own home universe, I’ve only just been to Hobie’s. I haven’t seen Gwen’s though not even she goes back there.” 
Again he doesn’t reply immediately and the comfortable silence continues. 
“I would advise you to stay away from Hobie. He could be a bad influence on you or something.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it. 
“I’m sorry?” You asked, turning your body full to look at him now. 
“I said ‘you should stay’-”
“No, I know what you said. But I don’t understand why. What’s going on with you? Are you stressed about something? Do you not like Hobie? Because Hobie has been nothing but nice to me and he’s a friend. He keeps me safe even when I visit his universe.”
“And exactly how many times have you visited his universe, hmm? You two seem pretty comfortable flying across universes together.” It was his turn to turn and face you. Standing at his full height, the tops of your head barely came up to his collar bones. 
“I-I- … I don’t know. A few times I guess? 4? Maybe 5 times? But-”
“5 times?! You met him not even two weeks ago and you’ve already been hanging around him that much?” You were trying to explain to ease whatever caused his temper to rise. However, with every response you give, it only seems to anger him more. With every response, he is taking a step closer to you and walking you backward.
“I guess? But he’s my friend! And I’ve always been safe if that’s the issue. He keeps me safe. I know I’m not a Spider-Man like you but-” Miguel ignores your argument and cuts you off again.
“Right right and he keeps you safe which I am sure he is more than happy to do seeing as how he’s always getting up in your space. And what exactly do you do in his universe? You run around town like some hooligans and go back to your home universe when it’s late enough to be considered morning?”
“Ah- No, we hang out at his place and have dinner and stuff, I don’t know! And when it gets late I just stay over at his place!” 
“Stay over?! What? Like overnight? He’s got guest rooms now? He’s hosting house parties?” There’s sarcasm dripping in his words but your brain was running too fast to notice.
“N-No he doesn’t. He’s not. He just lets me use his bed when I’m too tired to go home and I’d just wake up the next morning to come here.” 
All of a sudden, he takes one last step forward and you take one step back but your backside hits the table. He drops his hands on either side of you, exactly like how Hobie had you pinned against your desk earlier but this is different. This feels different. The tension is palpable. With Hobie, it was friendly and playful. With Miguel … it feels like you’re getting hunted and just got caught.
“He what?” Miguel’s voice isn’t loud and angry anymore. No. It’s low and deadly. His question comes out always like a whisper as he leads in so close that your noses are practically touching.
“I don’t understand what’s happening. Hobie is just my friend. Why does this feel like it’s a problem?” You whisper. Miguel doesn’t reply. He simply stares at you with such intensity in his eyes, you’re surprised you didn’t evaporate. Suddenly, he’s looking at your lips. Acting almost instinctively, your tongue shoots out to wet your lips and his eyes immediately shoot back up to yours. There’s the intensity in his eyes again, only this time, it’s different. Definitely not anger.
Suddenly, an alarm from Miguel’s monitor goes off and the sound is thunderous in the silent chamber. 
After a few beats, Miguel drops his forehead on yours, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The whole time, you never take your eyes off of him. Your heart is beating so fast and the blood is rushing in your ears. Very abruptly, he pushes off of the table and whirls around to the monitor. He turns off the alarm and starts typing away, completely ignoring you. Slowly pushing up from the table, you turn back to your own monitor and stare blankly at the empty alleyways and random buildings. 
Where there was comfortable silence before, now, the silence is deafening. 
“You should go home Y/N. I can finish this up on my own.”
Not sure of how to act or how to respond, you slowly climb down from the platform without saying a word and fetch your things.
“And I mean home, Y/N. To your home universe. To your own house. To your own bed.”
Looking back up the dais, Miguel is still facing his monitors, not even looking at you when he talks. Hitching your bag higher up on your shoulder, you respond, “Of course. Goodnight, Miguel. And … for what it’s worth … he always slept on the couch.” 
And with that, you take off running down the hall and teleport back home. 
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jamminvroomvroom · 10 months
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our secret moments.
ln x fem!reader // childhood friend to lovers
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in which you’re friends. best friends. but then you buy a dress for him to take off.
this one is for you guys. thank you for inspiring this, my beloved dress anons. i hope you guys love this as much as i do, and that i got it right for you! obsessed with the concepts and brain rot that went into this aaaaaaa lemme know what you think i beg <3 also sorry if the formatting gets weird, trying out smau elements again :D
songs to set the mood: DRESS by taylor swift
warnings: 18+!! minors dni! smut, oblivious friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, mutual pining, general sex acts, language, an argument
5.6k words
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your dress sparkles like a mirrorball as the lights flash along the strip.
vegas week begins with a bang; it’s the night of lando’s 24th birthday. the name of your dad’s company is plastered all over the city, as it usually is wherever there’s a race weekend. a round of golf leads to dinner plans and you get dressed up nice with your girlfriends.
you’re almost ready when lando texts you, your friends giving you a look that you brush off when they see the papaya heart next to his name. you tell him you’ll all be ready soon, that’ll you meet him and the boys in the lobby.
high heels sound against the marble floor of the hotel. you walk confidently, tall, scanning for the group of men you’ll be spending the evening with. you spot max fewtrell first, your dear friend here for the occasion, and then ash, who has his back to you. it’s because he’s talking to lando, your best friend, the man that made you fly in to sin city a week earlier than you would have liked.
he’s looking at you before you even see him, watching you walk towards him over ash’s shoulder. he’s checked out from the conversation the second he spots you, glittering under the chandeliers. he can’t breathe, because you’re wearing a dress that renders him somewhere between life and death.
but you’re getting closer, and max, who can see the look on lando’s awestruck face, nudges him so hard in the ribs. he forces himself to inhale, smile, keep breathing.
“good evening, mr norris.” you grin, squeezing his shoulder. “we starting with slots or drinks?”
both is the agreed upon answer, and you let loose in the casino. you watch him roll the dice at one of the game tables, and suddenly, you’re twelve years old again, playing board games on the floor of a hotel room, while your dads talk at the bar downstairs.
your father is, perhaps, the worlds biggest motorsport fan. he’d been sponsoring different series’ since you were little, and he hadn’t stopped expanding as you’d gotten older. that’s how you’d met lando, aged ten years old with braids in your hair, covered in mud, somewhere in the english countryside. you’d been going to kart races since you could walk, and you were sure from the first time you spoke to the small british boy that you’d be destined to meet him. he’d left a mark on you that day, something golden; he radiated sunshine.
your friendship flowed like wine over the years, nice and easy. time on the road with your father meant that lando was the friend you saw the most, and it stayed that way throughout your teenage years. lando’s step up into formula 1 was paired very well with your dad’s investment into mclaren, and five years later, you rarely missed a race.
lando was so easy to be friends with that it was only natural that he was just as easy to love. platonically. you loved him platonically. it was easy to have late night dinner’s with him in his hotel room, easy to walk around the cities you visited with him until your legs hurt, easy to fall asleep on his bed after a netflix binge. so when he told you to pack your bags and be in vegas, it was like he’d pulled an invisible string, because of course, that’s where you would be.
your friend is waving her hand in front of your face when you finally snap out of it. you’ve been staring across the room for god knows how long, and now the girls are laughing at you.
okay, so maybe it’s not just platonically, but you’d rather die than admit it.
“still gonna tell us there’s nothing between you?” nancy, one of your closest friends, teases. your other friend, mia, is giggling beside her. they’d both flown out for the race as well, and had spent the last two years helplessly watching you fall harder and faster.
“shut up,” you whine. “he’s my-“
“best friend.” they both cut you off in unison, mockingly. nancy rolls her eyes.
“he is!” you protest, waving them off.
you leave them in the dust to join the lads at the table. lando’s arm is draped over your shoulder the second you arrive.
“lost your millions yet?” you whisper into his ear. he tuts in response, knowing grin on his face.
“you have no faith in me, honey.” he bumped your hip with his as he spoke.
the game continues, and somehow, much to your surpise, lando gets richer. the walk from the casino to the club is short, and soon enough, you’re drunk and sweating under strobe lights. rounds and rounds of shots disappear and you sink deeper and deeper into the booth you’d reserved.
you let the music thrum through your body, closing your eyes in contentment. a knee nudges yours, and you open your eyes to see lando sliding into the booth next to you. he hands you a drink, and you mouth him a thank you.
“got your eye on anyone here?” lando’s head is resting in the crook of your neck when he asks. it’s obviously just so that you can hear him.
you pull back from him, scanning his face for a moment, really taking him in. the slope of his nose, curls matted on his forehead, grey blue eyes that you swear flit to your lips for just a second. just a brief second. you smile, soft and tired.
“nope.” you mouth back to him. “you?”
lando returns your smile, mirroring you perfectly. he shakes his head.
it’s around 3:30am when you crave the sweet release of sleep. your feet are aching and your head is throbbing. no questions are asked when lando offers you a piggyback ride.
you ignore the way your friends look at you both when he carries you up to your room.
youruser just posted on instagram
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liked by: landonorris, yourfriendnancy, yourfriendmia, maxfewtrell and 378,654 others
youruser: sin city for nozza’s birthday
user: are they together?
otheruser: mother?
landonorris: lost millions.
user2: the photo of the dress next to the photos of lando? she’s tryna tell us something i think.
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you ignore the nausea pooling in the pit of your belly.
apparently, the medical centre isn’t that far away when you sprint there. harsh fluorescent lights greet you when you burst through the door, searching for a mop of curls and a burst of orange. your eyes find adam, lando’s dad, and you rush to his side.
“is he okay?” something about the fear in your eyes makes adam crack a smile. it seems there’s no hiding how you feel from anyone except lando.
“they’re just checking him over now, think they might take him to the hospital, just to be safe.” adam explains. “he was asking for you.” he smiles again.
“so it’s just precautionary?” you ignore the last bit. you ignore the way it makes your stomach twist and your brain fight to keep a smile off of your face.
“you can see him, if you want.” adam gestures towards the nearest examination room.
you’re gone before he can say anything more, bursting into the room without even thinking of knocking.
lando’s pretty much stoned. god knows what they gave him but it seems to be working; he’s propped up on the bed, cracks a sleepy smile when he sees you.
“hey, pretty girl.” he drawls, waving slowly. you pray you’re not blushing.
“scared me out there, you prick.” you joke, but your voice shakes.
“c’mere.” he frowns, so you walk around his bed. he slaps the small spot next to him clumsily, and you perch on the edge of the bed.
lando grabs your hand, pulling you in closer, eyelids drooping as he does it.
“i’m sorry, honey. always wanna race well for you.” lando is pouting. he’s fucking pouting at you.
“hey, hey, it’s fine! as long as you’re okay.”
he nods like a child being told off, but he doesn’t drop your hand. he doesn’t drop it in the helicopter to the hospital, either.
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youruser: alls well that ends well (but i’m in a new hell every time you go to the hospital)
landonorris: whoops?
user1: THE TAYLOR LYRICS HELLO?
user44: do y’all think we can’t see you.
user2: 3RD SLIDE HELLO?
yourfriendnancy: anyway. the dress ate.
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-
“i just don’t get why you keep wearing the fucking shoes if they hurt so much.” lando bumps your shoulder with his, teasing you.
“sometimes you do what you gotta do for the ‘fit.” you huff, trying to keep up with him.
you’re on your way to dinner with lando, marking your first night in dubai. the restaurant isn’t too far, but your shoes are simply not cooperating. you’d left lando to book a table, knowing that a name drop from him would mean good food and not too many people there to watch you both eat it. after vegas, the rumour mill was working overtime, and you’d had a headache for two days as a result.
none of your other friends have arrived in the emirates yet, so it leaves just the two of you to hang out. it’s something you usually love to do, but after the whirlwind of the last few days, it makes your tummy twist.
you can’t stop thinking about the hospital, your hand in his, the way he’d demanded you accompany him despite the presence of his literal father. you absolutely can’t stop thinking about “pretty girl” or the lazy smile on his face when he said it, like it was what he always called you. he usually sticks to honey, not the most platonic thing in the world, but he said it once and it just stuck.
you’re pulled out of your downward spiral by the way he suddenly comes to a stop in the middle of the pavement. you look at him confused, but then he’s making a suggestion that makes you want to lay done in front of an oncoming ferrari.
“want me to carry your shoes? you can put them on right before we go in.” lando shrugs. you must be blushing by the way he fights off a smile.
“lando, i cannot walk down the streets of dubai shoeless.” you scowl. he chuckles.
“says who? give ‘em here. you can wear mine if you want.” lando reasons, and after staring at him likes he’s grown a second head, you cave.
you start to crouch down but he beats you to it. your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers graze your ankle. you watch in shocked silence as he undoes each clasp, letting you step out of the shoes. the pavement is relatively cool under your feet, and it snaps you out of your state. you decline his offer of his own shoes, and he’s started walking again when you stop him.
“lando, why are you doing this?”
“you took good care of me last weekend. least i can do.” he tells you, and you nod once. “c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he ushers you along and you walk the rest of the way in silence, silver heels swinging in his hand.
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youruser: dinner w bestie
user: lando took this. bet.
user3: her other friends aren’t in abu dhabi yet she has to be with lando
landonorris: how was dinner?
youruser: @ landonorris u tell me.
user4: a date if i ever saw one?
user63: are we sure they’re not just friends?
user4: @ user63 girl. be so fr
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the restaurant is licensed, so you find solace in a glass of white wine. lando sticks to water.
your mains arrive and you natter back and forth, discussing the end of the season and any gossip you may have acquired. you barely stop laughing, head thrown back every time he opens his mouth. it feels easy again, and you find yourself thawing out, previous worries shoved to the back of your mind.
“so what’s next year looking like? last year of your degree.” lando wiggles his eyebrows, wearing a hint of pride on his face.
“might have to stay away from race tracks for a while. it’s gonna be a busy year.” you sigh. his face obviously falls.
“how long is a while? need my cheerleader.” it’s said in jest, but desperation lies in the outskirts of his voice.
“until the summer break.” you frown. you’d gotten far too comfortable studying on the road.
“can’t you continue as you are? i’m gonna mis- your dad will miss you.” lando corrects himself and your fork clatters against your plate.
“can’t get rid of me too easily, norris.” you clean up the awkward mess before it can even become one, returning to the lighter side of the conversation.
“trust me, i’m not trying to.” he flirts. in jest.
you roll your eyes and gulp down wine.
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user: mommy? huh who said that?
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lando.jpg: from the road
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user4: WAIT didn’t she post the second one a while? LANDO TOOK IT?
user81: oscar 😭😭
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your back is to his chest and the music is unbearable. it doesn’t stop you from swaying your hips against his.
nothing beats the abu dhabi grand prix’s after party.
lando stays p6 in the championship, but it’s only by one stupid point. celebration is certainly called for, and you bask in the freedom of the season ending.
you don’t even want to think about the way he hugged you when he got out of the damn car.
so you don’t. you drink and you dance and you beg for someone else to try and take you home so that you can avoid him. you’re scared, fucking terrified, and avoiding him seems like the best option.
that’s until he finds you in the sea of people, because of course he does, and you get closer, closer, closer, until there’s no room for god and his hands are on your hips.
it feels too fucking good to stop, you can’t even compute pulling away, so you let yourself go. what’s the point in trying to hide the way you feel when he’s holding you against his crotch? ah, yes. a cornerstone of friendship.
but it’s too hot and it’s too bright and it’s too loud and the anxiety hits. it hits and you can’t stop the way you freeze up against him. you’re sick to death of pretending. you’re sick to death of nights like this one repeating themselves far too often, only to wake up in the morning and act like it means nothing. like the way he holds you and looks at you and touches you means nothing.
no matter how drunk he is, no matter how far gone he is, he knows you too damn well. he’s spinning you around in his arms and pulling you through the hoards of people.
cool air lands on your flushed skin and you realise you’re in the smoking area. lando looks wrecked, but he’s watching you as intently as he can manage.
“you okay, honey? want me to take you home?” he’s rubbing your arm as he speaks and tears well in your eyes. you’re not entirely sure why.
“stay, i don’t wanna ruin your night.” you croak. you need to get out of there immediately.
“no, no, no, you’re my priority, i’ll call us a driver and w-“
“stop it, lando. i can go back to the hotel alone.” he looks bewildered, and you don’t blame him. you sound harsh, way too harsh considering what he’d offered.
“i should take you.” he replies quietly and you feel bad.
great, now you are crying.
“just- i don’t want this to change, i don’t want us to change and if you keep on like this-“
alas, everything changes, then. every unsaid word is fair game and neither of you are holding back. the shots you’ve thrown back fuel an explosion.
“if i keep on like this? what, you think i don’t see the way you look at me?” lando’s words hit like venom and you’re white hot with embarrassment.
fiery despair hits you and you’re bound to regret every word when you’re sober and sane.
“at least i don’t fuck with your head.”*
“you think that doesn’t fuck with my head? the one woman i- fuck, you know what? it doesn’t matter.” he bites his tongue but you most certainly don’t.
“what? what, lando? as if the way i look at you compares to carrying my shoes and putting me to bed and calling me pretty and every other thing that you do to drive me up the fucking wall.” you spit.
your tears burn your cheeks, you’ve always been an angry crier, and they fall faster when he practically deflates and turns away, disappearing into the club.
you make your getaway, your father’s assistant sends you a car.
you cry yourself to sleep in your hotel room, watching the orange sun rise.
-
the flight home is quiet.
your plans to fly home with lando are abandoned, and you board the earliest flight available.
you never fight with him, so you don’t know how to proceed. everything had changed in a matter of words and you ignore the lump in your throat when you land in miserable, rainy london alone.
you’re surprised to see your dad’s blacked out range rover waiting for you when you get through customs. he’d been on the first flight out of the emirates as soon as the race had finished, and you assumed he’d be asleep for at least a day or two. the man never rests during the season, from the minute the lights go out in bahrain, until the flag falls in abu dhabi. then, he biblically crashes, the excitement and adrenaline hibernating until next year. average behaviour for the world’s biggest motorsport fan.
he’s out the car and opening the boot for you before you even reach him, and he’s pulling you into his fatherly embrace when you finally do. you let out a shaky breath, having been in desperate need of a hug.
“hey, kid.” he mutters into your ear. maybe it’s good to be home.
“what are you doing here?” you ask from the passenger seat, once all of your luggage is packed into the car.
your dad sighs, turning to look at you. you groan, thudding your head against the headrest. you know that look, the one that precedes a motivational speech, a bit of tough love, and usually very sound advice that you never ask for.
“lando called me.” he deadpans. they’d grown somewhat annoyingly close over the years.
“fantastic.” you reply, sarcasm as clear as day.
“he was beside himself. told me what happened.” your dad says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“it’s so, so fine. i don’t wanna talk about this.” your voice trembles and you don’t have the energy to cry anymore.
“there’s nothing wrong with telling him how you feel, sweetheart. don’t throw something away because you’re scared.” and, here we go… you think.
“i can’t lose him.” you whisper, furiously wiping away the stray tears that fall, staring out the window.
“you won’t lose him if you tell him. trust me, kid. we all see how that boy adores you. no father ever thinks a guy is good enough for their girl, but lando comes pretty damn close.”
“i don’t even know where to begin.” you rub your temples, battling the tension headache you’d developed sometime the night before.
“well, start thinking. you’ve got a week.” you can see your dad smirking from the corner of your eye.
“what?” you blurt, blindsided. you’d need more than a fucking week.
“end of year gala, kid. pick a dress.”
fuck.
-
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you’re glowing, draped in champagne pink silk.
from the other side of the room, you watch lando, and he watches you. it’s like a game, who’s gonna break first? who’s going to extend the olive branch?
he looks so pretty in his suit that you would cry if there were any tears left in you, if you hadn’t purged them all out of frustration and longing in the week of radio silence.
you’re nursing a glass of champagne, waiting for dinner to start. the room is full of rich people with big ideas, icons of the racing world, both past and present. you make small talk with oscar and his girlfriend, exchange pleasantries with your father’s many friends, and beg that lando makes the first move.
the clinking against a glass indicates that dinner is ready to be served, and you scan the tables for your place card. apparently, the event coordinator has a vendetta against you, because scrawled in deep orange cursive on the place card next to yours is mr lando norris. you scan the room for the nearest exit. your grand scheme to flee in a floor length gown and too high heels is interrupted by the sound of your chair scraping out next to you.
you feel a ghost of breath against your bare shoulder. curls tickle your skin and then, a head rests in the crook of your neck.
he says your name, and the world stops for a second.
“i’m sorry.” lando whispers in your ear, and your heart falls to your stomach.
you whip around, holding him tight as you wrap your arms around him. the tension plaguing your body since abu dhabi dissipates in seconds.
“don’t apologise. just… i missed you.” you sigh.
“you look… fuck. you’re gorgeous.” he breathes in your ear. one hand skims low over your waist. something inside of you explodes.
you don’t even try to fight the blush that tinges your cheeks.
someone important is trying to make a toast, so you take your seats. you’re not listening to a word being said, though. you just smile at lando, and lando smiles back.
you’re gonna tell him, you decide. he has to know, although you suspect he already does; you can’t imagine another day without the privilege of him looking at you the way he is right now.
dinner is a breeze. you eat, drink, laugh at the stories exchanged. you remember why you love this world you were raised in, and find yourself grinning mindlessly at your father as he rattles off yet another wild tale from your travels. you’re lucky, you know you are, and it’s reaffirmed when the man sat beside you - who you think you love a bit more than platonically - drapes his arm over the back of your chair.
plates are cleared away and a band starts their set on the makeshift stage. the mtc is lit so beautifully, fairy lights twinkle above you casting dainty light over the makeshift dance floor.
“dance with me.” lando requests. he hates to dance at these functions, so you know the request comes from the heart.
“lead the way.”
he takes your hand and you make your way onto the floor, which is slowly filling up with other couples. his hold is firm, yet gentle, and you lean into him as he keeps you close. eventually, your ear is to his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering away. you melt further into him as the song plays out, and you wish it would play forever.
“we gonna talk about it?” lando murmurs, just loud enough over the music.
“we are.” you mumble against the lapel of his jacket.
“come home with me.”
you nod, inhaling the scent of his cologne; god, how you missed every little part of him.
you keep dancing and dancing, until the champagne runs out and the band starts to pack up.
-
the door slams softly behind you.
lando takes your coat, and you drop your bag on his coffee table. when you turn around to find him, he’s stood in the doorway watching you. there is so much to say, but you can barely form a thought.
“i can’t take this any longer.” lando tells you.
your breath hitches in your throat.
“neither can i.” you whisper.
“we can be more.”
“what do you want us to be?” your chest is tight and you’re looking at him so fucking intensely, desire as clear as day in your eyes.
“you know what i want. and i know you want it too.” he walks towards you slowly as he speaks, footsteps punctuating each word.
“i need to hear you say it.” you breathe. you’re shaking; you’re not sure if it’s the anticipation or the way you’re holding yourself back.
“all i want, all i ever wanted, is you.” he’s right in front of you and his hands are on your waist. you’re tingling everywhere.
lando’s nose bumps yours. you’re scanning his face, every line, freckle, slope that maps him out. he can’t help but look at your lips, darkened eyes flitting over your face. all you can hear is shaky breaths, and perhaps your heartbeat ringing in your ears.
“can i…?” lando mutters.
you close the gap some more, lips brushing his.
“of course you can.”
he kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find his neck, gently pressing your fingertips into his skin. lando’s frantic, passionate, oh so careful as he deepens the kiss, pulling you somehow closer. you hum in surprise, and you feel him smirking. he’s moving hungrily, and you’re starving, impatient when your hands find his curls. the groan he emits at the sensation makes you ache for him all over.
you’re both panting when you pull away, the urgency to breathe the only thing stopping you. the relief you feel is astronomical, your lips lock perfectly and he feels wondrous under your explorative hands. he smiles wide and you grip his collar, pressing your forehead against his.
“i was gonna tell you, and then you turned up looking like this… fuck.” lando groans, and you can’t help but lean up into him once more.
the kiss is slower this time, languid, and he licks slowly into your mouth. his pupils are blown when you break apart and his eyes flutter open. your thighs clench under your dress.
“so, you like the dress?” you giggle incredulously, buzzing from the interaction. lando looks at you like you’re stupid.
“you look…” he runs his eyes over you, pausing mid sentence tentatively.
“say it.”
“fucking incredible.”
“thanks. bought it with you in mind.” you tease, smirking coyly.
his jaw goes slack; you can see him mentally undressing you, and then he’s kissing you all over again.
his bedroom isn’t far, but he insists on carrying you there, sweeping you up into his arms. he peppers kisses over your neck, kicking the door open with his dress shoe.
lando places you on your feet at the foot of his bed, smoothing his hands over the curve of your waist, the silk of your dress. he tucks your hair behind your ears, drawing you close once more as he does, cupping your face in large, calloused hands.
“what do you want tonight?” lando asks, searching your face for any sign of hesitancy.
“need you. all of you.” you keen into his touch, and his breath hitches in his throat.
“we’ll go slow.” he murmurs.
“no.” you shake your head, and his hands drop from your face. “don’t want to hold back anymore.” he finds your ass, grazing his fingers upwards until he finds the fastening of your dress. you maintain eye contact while he drags the zip down, shivering as your hear the faint buzz of the metal.
lando stops, just for a second in an attempt to compose himself.
“take it off. bought it so that you could take it off.” your brutal honesty breathes some urgency into him.
he keeps his eyes on yours as the silk falls off your body, pooling at your feet. the cool air brushes your skin - covered only by lacy panties and stilettos - but his touch warms you when he grabs your waist. lando walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed. he places you on the bed, on top of you like a shot, kissing you into the mattress.
he clambers off of you, sliding down your body until he reaches your heels. kisses trail up your legs while he takes them off, the thud of them hitting the floor making you jump. anticipation pools in your barely there underwear; he can see you, all of you, and he cannot bring himself to look away.
“careful with those, they were expensive.” you joke, but your voice sounds wrecked already. you can’t even imagine how you’ll sound when he’s done.
“i have different priorities right now.” he flashes a grin and you lose him between your legs.
your underwear stay on when he dives into your pussy, teeth scraping over your covered folds. he can definitely taste you already, stuttering out a moan as he casts his tongue over you. you sink deep into the sheets, bucking your hips into his face, but his hold on you is firm and you have to relent. he lets go of you for a moment, just to pull your panties down, and as soon as they’re gone, he’s delving deep into you.
the sounds he’s making are obscene, his entire face buried away. lando flicks his tongue over your clit, beginning an extended assault on your nerve endings, sucking hard and fast until you whimper his name. a knot forms in your core.
lando takes his mouth off of you, lips slick and glistening. he swipes his tongue over them, sitting back on his haunches. he begins rolling his sleeves up, and you manage to push yourself up so that you’re resting on your elbows. you reach out to toy with the buttons of his dress shirt, leaving his torso exposed to you. you rake your nails over his abs, transfixed on the way he tenses, shudders under your touch. once his sleeves are out of his way, he pushes you back. your hair fans out around you as he resumes his position between your legs.
one finger ghosts over your clit, poking and tracing the bud. you’re reeling, writhing at the feeling of everything and almost nothing at all. he drags the digit down until he finds your entrance, abandoning the teasing and slipping it inside of you. he twists his wrist, adding a second finger, grinding them deep. he’s slow with it, watches the way your face twists in euphoria, finding a deep sense of pride in the way he makes you shake.
“you have no fucking idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” his words have you clamping down on him, fucking yourself onto his hand.
“the feeling’s mutual.” you gasp.
lando cocks an eyebrow. he scales your body until he’s hovering over you again, fingers still working in and out of you. the angle change is delightful, your back arching and your nipples harden as they skim his bare chest.
“is it, honey? was it mutual all those nights i pictured you next to me, right on this bed? all those nights i watched you dance in your short skirts? all those nights i carried you to bed and wished i could stay?” he whispers right into your ear. his fingers speed up.
“fuck, lando. yes.” you cry, mouth hanging slack.
“tell me. tell me how mutual it was and i’ll let you come, pretty girl.” he teases; goosebumps litter your skin. there he goes again with pretty girl. this fucking man.
“always wanted more… was too scared to ask for it.”
“oh?” he coos, mockingly.
“couldn’t lose you if you didn’t want me.” you pant. a weight lifts off your chest as you let the words slip, his efforts sending you hurtling towards an orgasm.
“not going anywhere.” he kisses the base of your throat. “ever.” he punctuates, thumb sliding over your clit. “let go, love.”
the wave of pleasure crashes on your shores and it doesn’t stop, rippling through your belly and down into your toes. lando’s name falls from your lips like a sin, over and over until you can’t even hear yourself anymore.
lando’s smiling when you come down, small and knowing. he pecks your lips, once, twice, humming into the kiss when your hands find a home under his shirt. it’s unbuttoned already, so it slides over his bronzed shoulders easily. you hear it thud softly when it hits the floor.
“what?” you catch him looking at you, giddy.
“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” he grins. his words overwhelm you.
“i know.” you beam up at him bashfully.
he undresses himself and then the wait is over, and god knows it was a long one. he finds home between your thighs, runs his cock through your folds.
“you sure?”
“don’t make me wait any longer.” you insist.
it takes you a moment to adjust; he strokes your walls nice and deep and you feel everything he has to offer you. it’s surreal, really, stretching around him like this. you’d only ever daydreamed of the possibility, and now that it’s happening you can’t quite believe it. he moans low, forehead resting on yours. you watch his eyes roll back when he bottoms out.
your lip is quivering; it’s too intense, he’s too good. he takes it slow, just like he’d insisted, but he grinds deep, long strokes making you dizzy. you leave imprints of crescents in his shoulder blades, marking his pristine skin.
you can’t take much more of this, his hips hitting yours at such a delectable pace. he drags in and out, building a blissful rhythm and you’re whimpering into his neck. your teeth dig into the muscled plane of skin, minimal pressure applied, and his thrusts turn erratic, curses tumbling freely from his pink parted lips. it makes you squirm, spilling all over him, white hot and wet.
lando collapses into your damp body, the room is humid. you drag your nails through his hair, pushing the sweat slicked curls off of his forehead, and then your hand thuds lazily against the pillow.
“i’m done pretending.” he mumbles. “i’m yours.”
the last few years of your life flash before your eyes. you think back to his buzz cut and every time you’d failed to rebound. you think of bleached hair and lies about love and how he always saw the best in you. you think of nothing but him, you, together. he’s carved into you now, you think he always has been.
you fall asleep happy. you’ll wake up by his side and then you’ll do it the morning after, and the one after that too.
-
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youruser: our secret moments
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youruser: @ landonorris omg shut up (omw over)
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taglist
@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239
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3K notes · View notes
hearts4golbach · 3 months
Note
waitttttt you could totally do something w the sam n colby vid w jake n johnnie, like were reader is with johnnie and you could do something like the clip of jake hugging johnnie??? if that makes sense 😭😭😭😭
Spooked!
pairing:
Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.
a/n:
this isn't going to follow the points of the ACTUAL video. this is all made up and never really happened.
warnings:
scary ig?? I don't know if it's that scary, but yk.
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going on a trip with Jake, Johnnie, Sam, and Colby had been on your bucket list for a long time. whenever Jake came into your room and asked you if you wanted to go, you were ecstatic.
now you were there.
"what the fuck was that?" a bang from the other room echoed down the hallway. instinctively, you gripped onto Johnnies arm.
everyone's head flew to the corridor behind them. "Holy shit." Johnnie muttered.
Colby turned to Sam. "why don't we set up the rope thingy so whatever spirits are here can lead us to where they want us?" his evil smile said everything.
"good idea." sam turned back to you. "y/n, you still wanna do the estes method?"
you nodded carefully. "Yeah." Your grip on Johnnies arm loosened. "let's fucking do it."
Colby set up the rope, leading down the same hallway. "Now we wait."
"So, were gonna let these demons lead us to where they want us to go?" Jake spoke up. his hands were shoved in his pockets. he laughed. "they're going to fucking eat us alive or some shit."
sam pressed his hands together. "Probably."
"woah, what the fuck was that?" Johnnje pointed down the hall.
"What, what?" you asked frantically, looking towards where he was pointing.
"i- I don't know. I think my mind is fucking with me, I don't know." he brushed it off.
the rope went off, catching all of our attention. the lights slowly lit up one by one, leading down the hallway and stopping at room 513.
"let's go, I guess." Jake laughed nervously.
Johnnie began to cautiously walk down the hall, and you weren't far behind him. Jake, Colby, and Sam followed suit.
the door of room 513 creeked open eerily. a cold breeze hit your face, sending chills down your spine. "fuck." you muttered under your breath with an uneasy smile.
Johnnie rubbed your lower back. "You got this, y/n."
"Thank you. I'm excited as fuck, but nervous." your shoulders shrugged anxiously.
"Alright, let's get this shit set up." Colby dragged a miscellaneous chair from the corner of the room to the middle of the room.
"Why are you guys always sacrificing the girl?" The camera panned to jake.
"Hey, I volunteered. I used to binge watch these two daily, I've wanted to do this forever."
"they're using their ghost magic to get into your head." jake was trying extremely hard to hold back a laugh and keep his bit together.
Johnnie laughed. "Oh, for sure, jake."
Sam graciously handed you the blind fold. "ready to get started?"
you nodded cautiously before taking the blind fold and putting it on. eventually, headphones playing loud static were placed in your hand.
the next moments happened so fast.
'me.'
more static.
'stop.'
'not me.'
'him.'
'him!' the voice became louder.
static once again.
'I'm coming.'
'go.'
'evil.'
'extraordinary.'
static.
'i-' there was a pause.
'am.'
'move.'
'fire.'
'run.'
what sounded like a woman's laugh came through the static, sending shivers down your spine.
you began to bounce your leg anxiously. a hand net yours and held it gently. you knew it was johnnie as his cold rings pressed into your warm skin.
'him.'
pause.
'bad.'
'hell.'
'the door.'
there was a pause.
you felt johnnies hand shift after you said 'the door.' what was going on? you wondered.
'sam.'
'johnnie.'
pause.
'Leave.' you scrunched your nose as the deep voice rang through your ears.
'after.'
'y/n!' it was so loud, you felt as if your ear drums had bursted.
you ripped the headphones off your head and pulled off the blind fold. you were gripping Johnnies hand so tight your knuckles were turning white. "fuck," your shaky voice mumbled. you let out a laugh. "something, like, screamed my name in my ear." your fingernails were digging into Johnnies hand.
you stood up and wrapped your arms around his torso. he wrapped his arms around you gently and patted your back. "it's okay, y/n. don't worry."
"the ghosts won't get past these muscles." Jake flexed as he pursed his lips together.
johnnie rubbed your lower back. "holy fucking shit," you laughed, trying to play off how bad that actually scared you. johnnie could feel you trembling in his arms, and he didn't let go.
you cautiously pulled away from Johnnie. "so, what happened?"
sam began to explain. "of course, I asked if anyone was here with us, and you said 'me.'"
"and he asked whoever it was if they had died in this room and you were like 'no, stop, not me, him."
Johnnie wrapped his arm around your shoulder comfortingly. "I asked who we were talking to and you said 'I'm coming, evil and extraordinary.' there was something else I didn't catch."
"sam asked who's coming and you said 'i-' then paused for about 10 seconds. it was dead silent before you said 'am.' then you said 'run' and 'fire.'" Jake recollected.
"you randomly said him and I asked what he's going to do to us. you said 'hell, fire and the door.'"
"and 'bad.'" johnnie added.
"so, we turned towards the door then you started listing our names. you said after and then your own name and ripped the headphones off." Jake explained the rest.
you shook your head. "we need to get to Colby and tell him. I'm so fucking uncomfortable in here."
sam began to walk out of the door. "that was one of the clearest conversations we've ever gotten." he gushed excitedly.
"you can't make that shit up," you mumbled, still shaking your head in disbelief.
while you were under, it all seemed like gibberish to you. now it all made sense.
you gripped Johnnies hand tightly as you roamed around the halls to find Colby.
470 notes · View notes
miley1442111 · 3 months
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reams and reactions (part 1)- r.cameron
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a/n: HELLO! welcome to my new obx series, don't worry, if you follow me for cm or anything else I'll still be posting that, but i've just been on a obx binge recently so i cooked this story up in my head.
tropes: childhood bestfriends to lovers, enemies to lovers
pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader (use of Y/n, and the nickname Bunny/ bun (but i promise not in a weird way there's a story to it i swear it's not just one of those weird smut things))
summary: how you and rafe fell apart, then finally meet again.
warnings: drugs, drug use, drinking, parental and sibling death, kissing, crying, violence, fighting, cursing, guys being creepy, misogyny, asshole dude. (i think that's it?)
not entirely proofread
2k+ words
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When Rafe was 5 years old, he ran with you in the garden of Tannyhill, chasing you in a game of tag. When he finally caught up to you, you both fell to the ground, limbs tangled in the way only friends did, giggling the way only friends do, and he pressed the sweetest kiss to your cheek. 
When Rafe was 8, he came sobbing at your doorstep, on the verge of throwing up. He’d run all the way there. His mom was dead. He didn’t know what else to do. Besides his mother, you were the only person you’d ever been there for him like that, showing him that emotions were ok, and normal. When he felt you hugging him, and crying with him, he knew he would be with you forever. That he would stick with you through anything. 
When Rafe was 10, he came back to your house after a particularly long day (aka you had no classes together) and you two sat on your couch with your family surrounding you, Romeo and Juliet on the screen. He felt himself blush when your sister made the joke that he was like your Romeo, since your dads didn’t get on. Though you both adamantly denied it, a few minutes later he felt your hand holding his under the blanket, your matching friendship bracelet brushing off each other's skin. He was smitten. A smile landed swiftly on both of your faces. 
When Rafe was 13, he watched as you walked down the aisle of his father’s second marriage, a bunch of flowers in hand. He thought you looked beautiful, you were so beautiful. The pale blue dress Rose had picked and, of course, white roses in your hand. You shot him a small smile, one he responded to by blowing you a kiss. You laughed it off and went to stand where you were meant to. Rafe’s eyes were glued to you through the entire ceremony, almost forgetting to give his dad the rings. After the ceremony, you two ran off, away from Tannyhill. You went to your ‘little cove’ as you’d call it. It was a tiny beach just beside your house, but it led into the most magnificent field full of wildflowers, insects, and tall grass. It was beautiful. You and Rafe spent the whole night there, joking and talking. Then he finally mustered up the courage to kiss you. You kissed him back, but you’d both never speak about it again, too scared to mess up your incredible decade of friendship. 
When Rafe was 15, he saw you for the last time. Three months earlier you had come to him, sobbing about the fact that you were moving to California of all places. More than a day's drive away. 42 hour drive. He promised you, no, swore to you that you’d keep in touch, that you’d be there for each other even with the distance. 
He was wrong. After a few months, he’d stopped texting back, stopped calling back, stopped being there for you. And he never saw you again. 
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Rafe woke up with a banging headache and an uncontrollable urge to vomit but swallowed it back and took the glass of water that remained on his bedside table for days at a time. Today was going to be shit. It was the 28th of July, the day you left him, and the day his world got turned upside down. This day was always hard. He was reminded of everything he’d messed up in life. What was he now? A drug addicted, drunk, piece of shit. He was barely getting by in college and he’d already had to repeat a year twice. Often, he’d go to your little cove and sit, thinking about what you were doing now. Were you a teacher, like you’d wanted to be as a kid? Were you an artist? He remembered how good you were at sketching. Were you even alive and he’d missed the funeral? What did you look like? What colour was your hair? Did you think about him?
Everything was too loud in his mind. He grabbed a beer, and set on his way. The cove was in full bloom, a sea of colours under the boiling sun. He sat in his usual spot, the spot where you two had kissed. You two had these small chairs that Rafe barely fit in then, and definitely didn’t fit in now, so he sat beside them. What time was it? Was the sun going down? He searched in his pocket for his phone, only to find it dead.
“Excuse me?” He turned to see a girl shouting from across the field. 
“Yeah?” he called back, feeling rather inconvenienced by the whole ordeal. 
“Do the Cameron’s still live in Tannyhill?” She asked. 
“Yeah, why?”
“Just an old friend, thanks!” 
And she walked off. He tried to remember her physical features as best he could, but ultimately forgot them in his pursuit of washing his troubles away with the beer in his hand. 
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“Y/n? Is that you?!” Sarah squealed as she leant out the window of the Twinkie. 
“Sarah?” You practically ran into the road to meet her. The car was stopped at a stop-light, and she pulled you in to properly greet you. 
“Oh my god! It is so good to see you!” She smiled. Despite you and Rafe’s falling out, you’d stayed in touch with Sarah, even though you were a little older than her. You even followed Wheezie on instagram and texted back and forth sometimes. But Rafe… static. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I’m here to teach, I just finished my 2nd year of college and I’m doing my work experience here!” You explained, as she pulled away from the hug. 
“So you’re going to be here, like for the whole year?”
“Not just the whole year, I’m moving back once I'm done with my exams,” you explained. “I’m doing this programme that means I can work from here and do college from here, I’m so fucking sick of California.”
Both Sarah and Kiara squealed with excitement, and the three boys cheered. You’d been friends with the pogues, being a sort of pogue-kook hybrid. 
Kiara pulled you in for a hug, then Pope, then Jj, then John B gave your hand a squeeze instead, since he was busy driving. 
“So you’re back for good?” Kie asked. 
“I’m back for as long as you’ll have me,” you smiled. 
“We have to celebrate tonight!” Jj cheered.
“There’s a party down at Figure 8, I’m sure Y/n’s kook heritage will get us in,” Pope shrugged and you all agreed. 
You spent the rest of the afternoon hanging around the pogues and Sarah and got ready at Kiara’s place for the party. Her parents welcomed you back with open arms, and then asked the dreaded question of ‘how are your parents?’
Your parents had been dead for 3 years. They’d died in an accident, and you’d been alone since then. 
“They’re good,” you lied. “Working hard back in California.”
That satisfied them, and they stopped asking. 
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The Figure 8 party was just how you remembered them to be. Loud, drunk, and almost too much. Even though you had been 14 at the time, Rafe had convinced you to come to one, since he was friends with some older kooks who wanted him there. Halfway through you told him you were going home, and instead of just waving you off, he brought you to your little cove, and sat with you for a couple hours. After that he brought you back to his house, and you had a sleepover.
When you’d asked him why he did that, he’d just shrugged and said ‘I prefer being around you.’
God, you could’ve married that man. You were supposed to, if your diary ‘ideal life’ had gone to plan. 
Step One: Start dating Rafe
Step Two: Become highschool sweethearts and make it through college (even if it's long distance) and become a teacher! 
Step Three: Work as a teacher and live on the mainland for a few years, have Rafe propose in the little cove, say yes, obviously and start wedding planning. 
Step Four: Have the wedding at Tannyhill, move into a house on Figure 8 and start having kids, we’ll have 4 or 5 (Rafe wants 7 kids????? 4 or 5 is pushing it buddy), and live a long happy life as a teacher with Rafe and our family. 
Step Five: Die happy. 
Ok, it wasn’t exactly inspired, but come on, you were 13. 
You noticed what looked like a grown version of Topper in the crowd and when he turned and saw you, a smile grew on his face. He ran over and scooped you up in a hug.
“Bun! You’re back!”
Bun was the nickname you were given as a kid because well, you liked bunnies. You had two as a kid, and for a year, you wouldn’t respond to someone unless they called you bun. It was ridiculous, but people obliged all the same. You'd never regretted anything more in your life in that moment.
“Hey Topper,” you smiled. 
“Have you seen Rafe yet?” he asked.
“No, not yet,” you smiled slightly faltered, but you kept the smile up for good appearances. When you’d gone to Tannyhill yesterday, only Ward, Rose, and Wheezie were in, so your anxiety around seeing Rafe had grown. One day, he’d just stopped replying. Not one reason, not one apology. Nothing. One part of you wanted to say he didn’t even deserve to see you, and another missed her best friend/ supposed love of her life. “Is he around?”
“He is, but he’s high as shit,” Topper laughed. Rafe Cameron? Rafe Cameron was getting high?
“Rafe is high?”
“Oh yeah, he’s totally into all that shit now,” he laughed and you noticed the dilated pupils, the white residue on his nose, the red, irritated skin of his nose. He was high too. “It’s good shit too, you want some?”
“I’m good, just point me in Rafe’s direction,” you nodded, deeply uncomfortable with the drugs around. You’d grown up with a brother who did drugs, who’d died from drugs at the young age of 17. You didn’t want anything to do with drugs, but here you were, being led into one of the Figure 8 mansions to be led to Rafe Cameron, selling, and doing drugs. 
“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” he cheered as all eyes turned to you. The group of boys cheered, getting up to give you a group hug. Rafe stayed seated. 
“How’s life on the mainland Bun?How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle, trying to ignore the cocaine on the table. 
“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now,” you smiled as another round of cheers rippled through the group. 
“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”
“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan, a sleeze you remembered from school. He was always the creepy guy, trying to look up girls' skirts and play kiss-tag at the ripe old age of 12. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”
You felt bile rise in your stomach as a handful of the boys laughed at the joke. 
“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended. “Fuck off asshole.”
“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”
You froze and looked to Rafe who was looking at you through hooded eyes. 
The silence was awkward, and you knew it was time to take your leave, even though you hadn’t said a word to Rafe, so you said your goodbyes and left in search of the pogues. 
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“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” Topper announced as all eyes turned to you. 
Holy fucking shit. You were gorgeous, and it was you. Rafe’s Y/n. Rafe’s Bun. He was shocked to see you in the Outer Banks again, let alone in person again. You were here. In front of him. Then he realised, you were here. Here, where there was cocaine on the table, and he was the one selling it. Here, where there were about three guys looking at you like you were a piece of meat. Here, where he sat at the top of the table, stoned out of his mind. 
“How’s life on the mainland Bun? How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle. Rafe could see you trying to ignore the table, staring directly at Kelce, all your attention on him. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. You were his best friend before you were anyone else’s friend. He’d known you better than anyone. And here he was, silent as he watched you talk to everyone else. 
“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now.” 
His heart almost stopped. Back in the Outer Banks, for good. 
“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”
You rolled your eyes at him, but Rafe could tell it was playful. God, his life was so fun when you had been in it. Impromptu boat rides and trips to the mainland, spending hours just talking and laughing about nothing and everything all at the same time. He missed it. He missed you.“I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”
“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan. Rafe often wondered why he even kept him around. He could feel the awful comment coming, but he knew he couldn’t stop it. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”
Rafe felt the anger boil in his blood the second he said it. Ryan should’ve known better than to talk about you like that.
“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended, beating Rafe to it. “Fuck off asshole.”
“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”
Rafe stared back at you as you truly looked at him for the first time that night. He couldn’t tell how you felt, something he didn’t like. Ever since you two were kids, he could always tell how you were feeling, what you were thinking. He could always anticipate what you needed. He didn’t know now and it scared him. He just looked back into your beautiful eyes, allowing himself to be lost in the fact that you were here in front of him. 
The silence was awkward and he knew it, so he didn’t protest when you took your leave, even if he wanted to. He spoke when he knew you were out of ear and eyeshot, he didn't need you know what he was about to do.
“Ryan?” he scoffed. “You have ten seconds.”
“Until what?” Ryan chuckled. 
Rafe counted down the seconds in his head, Topper and Kelce became more and more uneasy as the seconds went by. 
Rafe didn’t even give warning, he just got up, grabbed a nearby beer bottle, and smashed it over his head. Nobody dared to stop him, not even when he started punching Ryan, promising to kill him if he ever spoke about you like that again. 
People knew not to fuck with Rafe and, even after all these years, you were an extension of Rafe. Too bad Ryan forgot that.
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obx masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
425 notes · View notes
beetlejuicyy · 6 months
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Eraser | Ryomen Sukuna x reader
1. Ultimatum
Summary: modern!Sukuna has a tattoo of your name on his chest that he wants to get rid of. Can he, though?
Warnings: gaslighting, toxicity, mentions of cheating
Word count: 2,254
Series masterlist:
1. Ultimatum
2. Wash Away
3. Only Memories
4. Vengeance
Read on AO3
Notes: this idea popped in my head very randomly while I was listening to a song and it screamed modern day Sukuna so here it is
General Masterlist | Divider @rookthornesartistry
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“I want it gone.” Sukuna said, already irritated.
“Are you sure? Covering it up would be way easier.” If this bastard kept talking, Sukuna would rather cut his own skin and get the job done faster.
“I want it gone from my skin.” He growled and the guy quickly went back to the computer to search for an appointment date.
“Any other guy wouldn’t have treated you as well as I did!” Sukuna spat back as if that was supposed to fix something.
You sat down on the floor of your bedroom, back resting against the bed. You were tired of yelling and screaming. He would never allow himself to articulate the word love, not even in this fight that was about to end your relationship for good.
“Really? What else is there to be done? Fuck another girl in my own bed?” You replied sarcastically and he groaned in frustration.
You just couldn’t understand. He warned you that the wasn’t he goodie two shoes compliant man going to a 9 to 5 and talking about finance or computer science like your previous flings. He was running an underground illegal business and networking was the most important thing if you wanted to end up on top. Sukuna reiterated these things many times, as if they could overcome the indescribable magnetic pull you felt towards him. He shouldn’t have flirted with you so confidently and insistently if he never planned to let you in. But you eagerly nodded, dismissing all his warnings, all of Yuuji's, his little brother’s warnings that predicted exactly this moment. When you would find out he made out with another woman in a random club at 1:30AM while you obediently ate your vanilla ice cream and binge watched netflix.
“For the last time, woman!” He yelled, his hoarse voice coming from his throat filled the quiet room. “I didn’t fuck her!”
He was sitting in the doorframe of your bedroom, looking at your pathetic form on the floor. Head supported in your hands, your tangled long hair falling over your face. He had been banging on your front door for half an hour before you agreed to open it. He had smoked cigarette after cigarette, trying to relieve some of the stress. When you finally opened the front door to let him in, all the snarky remarks he had prepared faded away. Your eyes were swollen because of crying, the hems of your sleeping t-shirt, his t-shirt, wet with tears. He followed you back to your room, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk in, seeing you like this. Yelling and cursing at each other was easy, but resisting the sight of your pain was harder than anything he had ever done.
“Oh, yeah sure.” He couldn’t see your face because it was covered by your palms but he knew you rolled your eyes. “First you make out with her and then wait until she throws herself at you. Funny thing, worked on me.” Your voice was strained from all the yelling. Your energy had been used up almost entirely. Now all that was left was a bitter, quiet tone.
“I knew that little brat was too young to get involved in these things.” He mumbled more to himself. He pulled at the knot of his black tie. It was already lose enough. He was suffocating.
“Yuuji didn’t tell me.” You laughed. You were so tired of all of it. Your head fell back on the bed and you looked at the ceiling, as if the answer to your problems was written there for you to read. You didn’t need to see his handsome face to know one eyebrow was cocked in surprise. Damn his face and his black shirt and his perfectly tailored pants and his tattoos. “A private number sent me a video.” Sukuna’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek in frustration. “You could call it networking.”
He sighed. It was on video. All he could do was walk up to you, crouch down on the floor and try to resist the urge to touch you. You looked so beautifully devastated at 3:42 AM, only in your panties and one of his t-shirts, pretty legs sprawled on the floor, neck exposed just waiting for his teeth to sink in. But you already thought he was disgusting. It would only make things worse to admit that this sight of you turned him on.
“They’re trying to get to me, can’t you see?” Sukuna’s voice had never been so calm, so quiet. It was deep and throaty, coming from the utmost effort and consideration he held in his large body. “They know how important you are to me.” You only half smiled, as if he said something supposedly funny.
How come you didn’t know how important you were to him? How come he never told you how he felt about you? How come anytime you would seek reassurance from him you would end up in a sexual circumstance? He would tell you that you’re pretty, beautiful, sexy. He would make you feel like a goddess when he would touch you. And you would fall for it most of the time. But never, not once, express his feelings, his sincere and most vulnerable feelings towards you. You couldn’t do that for the both of you anymore. Sukuna seemed to understand the lack of trust from your silence, from the curled corner of your mouth forming a sad half smile, from your empty eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
“I needed information, y/n.” The sleeves of his shirt were folded up to his elbows, a strong smell of cigarettes deeply impregnated in the fabric. You raised your head from the mattress to look at him, bloodshot piercing eyes staring at you closely. “It’s the easiest way of doing it.”
“Yeah, actually you’re right. I need a Prada bag I’ll just make out with the security guy and he’ll give it to me.”
“I can buy it for you.”
Slap.
Sukuna didn’t expect it. The stinging sensation your palm left across his cheek burned deeper than the surface of his skin. It burned inside his heart. He didn’t look back at you. He kept his face turned away, so you could see how the skin changed into a pinkish color, more vibrant than the pink of his hair. Sukuna took a deep breath, licking his lips, trying to find a way to contain himself.
“I knew you had been a manwhore before. But I really thought, I really wanted you to respect me.” Your words cut sharper than any slap could. Your voice was getting louder and shakier with every word, anger and misery mixed in a pitiful sound. “I was stupid to think you would really care.”
“I do.” He said between his gritted teeth.
“You don’t. You just proved it tonight.”
“I told you multiple times.” He placed both of his hands on either side of your frame at the edge of the bed. The smell of his musky high end perfume mixed with cigarettes and a slight scent of alcohol as he spoke intoxicated you. You couldn’t avoid him. “This is what I do, take it or leave it. You said you’re fine with it.”
“You’re saying it’s my fault?” Suddenly you became very aware of the fact that you were covered in minimal clothing and the way he was looking at you, that mix of anger and frustration, his clenched jaw, his soft lips, they all made you want to stop fighting.
“I’m saying you’re exaggerating.”
“You really want me to slap you again.”
“Only if you can bear the consequences.”
You pushed your knees against his body, trying to break away from the cage of his muscular arms at your sides, keeping you prisoner. He didn’t even flinch. You kicks became stronger and more desperate, fighting against him while he did absolutely nothing to you. Sukuna looked at you in surprise, not expecting to be pushed away like this. Usually it took him a few intimidating looks and some sugarcoated words to make you forget that you were mad at him.
No more gaslighting.
No more forgiveness without an apology.
No more loving by yourself for the both of you.
“What the fuck are you doing, y/n?!” He asked in a raspy voice, placing large hands on your bare thighs and forcing them flat against the floor. But now you pushed him away with your arms, although your hands weren’t sure if they should cling to his shirt and pull him close or push him away from you.
“You don’t love me!” Your voice broke and you started crying, salty tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.
You just did it. You said that one thing that had been eating you from inside out for so long, that thing that you were so afraid of voicing out loud. You stopped struggling altogether. Sukuna’s heart broke. He always thought he could get away with his way of living, even after getting into this relationship. You would understand. You would forgive. You would know nobody else meant shit and you were the most important person to him.
“I have you right here, silly.” He said, his hand gesturing to his chest. He was referring to the tattoo he got a couple months ago, a small addition to his collection, your name right above his heart. You were never into this kind of things but he came up with the idea and you guessed you were important enough to him to be part of the story on his skin.
“You can always cover it up.” You said, unable to understand that this was his way of saying I love you, his way of carrying you in his heart at all times. “But what about my heart? I can't cover that up.” You brought your knees to your chest, hugging them with your arms, resting your forehead on top of them. You were so small, so frail. Sukuna used to think you were a strong soul but it seemed that you were more vulnerable than you showed. He had just broken you. Continuously hit your seemingly indestructible outer layer, like a glass that cracked more and more with time, until it shattered completely tonight. He wanted to hug you, to comfort you, to reassure you. But you only wanted one thing. He knew the only thing that would give him a chance would be to say three simple words. And he couldn’t bring himself to say them. So he just sat there on the floor with you, while you sobbed your pain away. The strong and mighty Ryomen Sukuna whom so many people feared was reduced to silence by a woman.
“Go away, Sukuna.” You said when your sobs quieted down, your tears ran dry and your mind started to clear out. You rose your eyes to look at him, still standing in front of you. “Go away!” You said, louder this time, like trying to get a dog to stop following you.
“Do you really want me to leave, you brat?” He asked, hoping that you would change your mind in the last minute.
“Get the fuck out!” You yelled, grabbing whatever your hand found closest to you and throwing it in his direction. It was his pack of cigarettes that was now half empty. It hit him right in his chest before falling miserably on the floor. He didn’t even feel it.
Sukuna had been trying to get in contact with you for the past two weeks. Work had him busy and exhausted all the time but not enough to forget that you weren’t answering his calls, weren’t replying his messages. You even got rid of the airtag he had given you to know your location at all times for safety. He pestered his little brother Yuuji to talk to you but he kept saying you weren’t answering him either. The brat was lying, he knew it. These two weeks had passed excruciatingly slow for Sukuna. It seemed like you had given up on him completely. In an attempt to tend to his shattered ego, given that all hope was gone for his broken heart, he decided to get rid of the tattoo of your name on his chest. He wasn’t going to cover it, like you said. He was going to remove it for good.
“You have to sign here aaand here.” The guy at the reception handed him a pen for the paperwork. Sukuna was just about to sign when his phone rang. When he saw the picture of his little brother on the screen his heart skipped a beat. He was so pathetic. He really hoped Yuuji had some news about you.
“I’m busy, what is it?”
“Uhm, it’s about y/n.” Yuuji’s voice was hesitant, like he still wasn’t sure he was supposed to share this information.
“What about y/n?” Sukuna was growing impatient.
“I think… I think she might be going on a date.” Sukuna’s vision darkened. The grip on his phone was so tight his knuckles turned white.
“Not on my fucking watch.” He muttered between his teeth. “Send me the location.” He turned on his heels in a second, walking out of the building with rushed angry steps.
“Uhm, sir? Your appointment?” The guy at the reception yelled, confused.
“I ain’t removing shit!” He yelled back as he reached his motorcycle. Yuuji had already sent him your location.
《previous Ascension | next》 2. Wash Away
True Form! Sukuna x Reader
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stopthatbluecat · 1 year
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Julian/Kasidy
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doodle bullshit (done in ibis paint cause i haven't got my tablet or my pen with me)
boop hehehehe
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and then, the malewives!
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fairyybngtn · 2 months
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Pairing: Armando Aretas x Black Reader
Genre: Jealousy/Fluff??
Warning: use of the n word and slight smut
Note: this is my first time ever writing anything so it might not be good. I been wanting more Armando fics but people barely be uploading anymore so I had to step in lol. (Also I added Megan in it…am I the only one that seen Jacob and Megan together cause nobody is talking about it)😭
Summary: A night at the club with your coworker, whom you secretly had a crush on, altered the dynamic between you two. What was meant to be a one-time thing spiraled into a whirlwind of feelings you struggled to navigate. Everything shifts when a new girl joins the team, and Armando seems to take an interest in her.
Tired was an understatement. After countless hours debriefing and working on the latest case, all you wanted was to collapse into bed, pour yourself a glass of wine, and binge-watch Love Island. But it was your coworker and best friend Kelly’s birthday, and she was adamant about hitting the club. "Why don’t you invite Armando?" Kelly suggested, her excitement barely contained. You looked at her like she was stupid. “Armando? Really? He doesn’t seem like the type to hang out with coworkers, especially not at a club.” Kelly persisted, oblivious to your hesitation. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Kelly, I don’t even know if he likes going out, let alone to a club. And besides, he barely acknowledges me at work.”
“He doesn’t have to hang out with us,” Kelly pointed out. “Rita, Dorn, Marcus, and Mike will be there too.”
You considered her words, the idea starting to seem less far-fetched. Still, you were uncertain. “I suppose. But what if he doesn’t even show up? And what if things are awkward?”
Kelly gave you an encouraging smile. “Come on, just give it a try. It's my birthday, and I want all my friends there, including the mysterious Armando. You never know, maybe this will be the night everything changes." Reluctantly, you agreed, sending a quick text to Armando, half expecting no response. But to your surprise, he replied almost immediately, agreeing to join.
After work, you went over to Kelly’s house so that you two could get ready. You were wearing an oversized sweater and sweatpants and had no idea what to wear. Kelly said, "Girl, your body is literally banging. Let’s show it off tonight!” She pulled out a dress that looked too small for you to fit. It was a black, snug dress that hugged every curve. You hated wearing anything tight, but because it was your best friend's birthday, you wore it anyway. You did your hair, deciding to let your curls out instead of the usual slick-back bun, and fixed up your edges. Kelly looked you over and grinned. "You look stunning. Tonight’s gonna be unforgettable."
You two were on your way to the club. When you arrived, the place was packed, and the sound of Sexxy Red’s "Fuck My Baby Daddy" playing got you excited for what the night had in store. You walked until you found the rest of your coworkers: Dorn, Mike, Marcus, and Rita. Mike, flirting as usual, said, "You need to dress like this more often. If I were around your age, I'd be all over you."
You laughed it off, but you didn’t see Armando and assumed he hadn’t come. You sat down with Marcus and Rita, taking your time to warm up to the large crowd. As you did some people-watching, you finally spotted Armando leaning against the bar, and your heart skipped a beat. He wore a fitted black shirt and dark jeans, a gold chain glinting under the neon lights. His hair was freshly styled, and he exuded a confidence that seemed so different from his usual office demeanor. He walked up to the group, greeting everyone. His uncle Marcus said, "Damn, that Lowery DNA is a bitch," seeing the resemblance between him and Mike. Armando looked at you and smiled.
"You look amazing tonight," he said, his eyes lingering on you with an intensity that made your breath catch. This was the most he had spoken to you since you started working together. Your cheeks flushed under his gaze, feeling the magnetic pull between you.
"Thanks," you replied, your voice barely audible over the music. "You look pretty different outside the office too." His smile widened, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Glad you noticed."
"Want a drink?" he asked. You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. As the night went on, one drink turned into several, and your best friend Kelly soon interrupted your conversation with the others. Her song "TGIF" by Glorilla came on, and she pulled you to the dance floor. Normally, you wouldn’t dance so openly but after seven drinks you had no care in the world and now here you were in the middle of the club with your best friend Kelly twerking together.
Unbeknownst to you, Armando made his way towards you. The distance that usually separated you at work seemed to dissolve. Here you were, throwing it back on Armando, who was catching every movement. The heat between you was undeniable, a magnetic pull that drew you closer with each passing moment. His hands rested on your hips, guiding your movements as you swayed to the rhythm of the music. The crowded dance floor seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own world.
As the night wore on, the tension between you two intensified. The proximity, the stolen glances, the subtle touches – it all built up to a crescendo. When Armando’s lips finally met yours, it was like a spark igniting a wildfire. The kiss was urgent, filled with pent-up desire and longing. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, and your eyes hungrily traced the outline of his form. His bulging veins, the prominent bulge in his jeans – every detail fueled your growing desire. The kiss deepened, and the world around you seemed to vanish, leaving just the two of you in a whirlwind of passion and longing.
"Let's get out of here," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot on your skin. You nodded, your mind a haze of desire. He grasped your hand and guided you through the swarm of people and out into the cool night air. By the time you reached his car, you were already tangled in each other, the tight space only heightening the intensity of your longing. When you finally arrived at his place, the anticipation was almost too much to bear. The moment the door closed behind you, he pushed you gently against it, his mouth capturing yours in a fierce, heated kiss. His hands roamed over you exploring and memorizing every curve of your body.
You couldn't resist any longer you pushed Armando back against the arm of the couch as you climbed into his lap. He responded eagerly, his hands roaming up your thighs to grasp your ass, pressing you firmly against his growing erection. His grunts mingled with your soft moans as you grind against each other, but it wasn't long before his impatience got the better of him.
With a swift motion, Armando lifted you and carried you to lay you down on the bed, his gaze dark with desire as he took in the sight of you. He moved to climb on top of you, but you were quicker, grabbing his arm and pulling him down so that he was flat on his back, with you straddling his waist. His hard cock pressed enticingly against your clothed cunt, just waiting to be released. His hands gripped your hips tightly as you rocked against him, the friction sending shivers of pleasure through both of you. You could feel his hardness through the thin fabric, driving your desire even higher.
“Me estás volviendo loca" he growled, his thick Spanish accent laced with lust as his eyes locked onto yours.
"Good," you replied with a mischievous smile.
Your fingers worked quickly to undo his jeans, freeing his cock. His breath hitched as you positioned yourself, sliding your panties aside and sinking down onto him in one smooth motion. The sensation of him filling you was electrifying, both of you groaning in unison. Your hands braced against his chest as you began to move, riding him with a rhythm that drove you both wild. The sounds of his rough groans and the intense heat between you heightened the moment, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. Not wanting you to reach climax just yet, he flipped you over onto your stomach and pounded into you roughly. His hands gripped your hips firmly, and he leaned over to kiss along your jaw, his lips brushing your skin with each passionate thrust. The sound of his thick Spanish accent giving you praises, mixed with his low moans, pushed you over the edge. With one last powerful thrust, you both came together, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless and entwined. When you finally sank into each other's arms, exhausted and satisfied, you knew your relationship would never be the same again.
The next morning, you woke up before Armando, the weight of what had happened hitting you like a truck. The whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you was overwhelming, and you left without speaking to him. Armando had always been a distant crush, someone you admired from afar. But now, the lines had blurred, and you found yourself tangled in feelings you didn’t know how to acknowledge. As you gathered your clothes, you glanced back at Armando, a pang of longing striking your heart. All you wanted was to stay wrapped in his arms, but the weight of last night’s events pushed you to flee. Checking your phone, you saw a bunch of missed calls and texts from Kelly, wondering where you had gone. With a deep breath, you dialed her number, ready to face the aftermath.
“Girl, where did you disappear last night?” Kelly's voice was laced with curiosity and concern.
You hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, “I left with Armando. We… ended up at his place.”
Kelly’s gasp was audible even through the phone. “No way! What happened? Spill!”
“Girl, I don’t even know where to begin,” you admitted. “All I remember is us dancing together and then going back to his place... We slept together.” The weight of your confession hit you hard. “I don’t know what to do now...”
“Wow,” Kelly said, stunned. “Are you okay?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” you admitted. “I just need some time to figure things out.”
Weeks passed, and finding a new normal became a struggle. The memory of that night lingered in your mind, a constant reminder of what had happened whenever you saw him. At work, things seemed to fall back into their usual rhythm, but the atmosphere was charged with an underlying tension. Armando barely acknowledged you, and when he did, his responses were curt and one-worded. Whether it was during meetings or on missions, he made a deliberate effort to keep his distance, intensifying the emotional strain of your interactions. You found yourself constantly thinking about him, the memory of his touch and the way he made you feel. It was impossible to focus, and the unresolved emotions gnawed at you, making it difficult to move on. Every interaction with Armando, no matter how brief, was charged with unspoken words and lingering glances.
One day, as you passed each other in the hallway, his gaze met yours for a moment longer than usual. There was something in his eyes, a mixture of regret and longing that mirrored your own feelings. But before you could say anything, he looked away and continued on his way, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest. The tension between you two was palpable, and you knew that sooner or later, you would have to confront it. But for now, you were caught in a limbo of uncertainty, waiting for the right moment to address the complicated emotions that had taken root in your heart.
The next day, Mike and Rita called a meeting to let us know a new person would be joining the tech team. Her name was Lana. When she entered, it was like a burst of sunshine filled the room. She had a vibrant, bubbly personality that instantly drew everyone in. It didn’t take long for everyone, including Armando, to take a liking to her. You watched from a distance as he laughed with her, their conversations flowing effortlessly. He never did that with you, but could you blame him? You never took the chance to talk to him, still holding a grudge against him for what he did to Captain Howard. Jealousy gnawed at your insides, a constant reminder of the unresolved feelings from that night with him.
One afternoon, you walked into the break room to find Armando and Lana in deep conversation so engrossed together that they didn’t even notice you walk in. You felt a pang in your chest, the reality of the situation hitting you hard.
"Hey," you said, trying to sound casual. They both looked up, and Armando's smile faltered for a moment before he greeted you.
"Hey, how's it going?" he asked.
You forced a smile. "Good, just grabbing a coffee." As you turned to leave, you heard Lana ask Armando something, her voice light and teasing. You couldn't make out the words, but the laughter that followed felt like a punch to the gut. Tears clouded your vision, and you quickly left the room before anyone could see you cry. You ran to the bathroom and, with trembling hands, texted Kelly.
"Kelly, can you come to the bathroom? I need you," you typed, your fingers barely able to hit the right keys through your tears. Moments later, your phone buzzed with Kelly's response. "I'm on my way. What happened?" You tried to steady your breathing as you waited. When Kelly finally arrived, she found you sitting on the floor, your face buried in your hands.
"Hey, I'm here. What's going on?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.
You looked up at her, tears streaming down your face. "It's Armando. I walked in on him and Lana. They were so close, laughing, talking... I don't know what to do."
Kelly sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "I'm so sorry. Armando is an idiot if he doesn't see how amazing you are. But you need to decide what you want. Do you want to talk to him and try to work things out, or is it time to move on?"
You sniffled, trying to gather your thoughts. "I don't know, Kelly. I still have feelings for him, but seeing him with Lana hurt so much. I'm scared of getting hurt again." Kelly hugged you tighter. "Whatever you decide, I'm here for you. Just remember to take care of yourself first. You deserve to be happy." You nodded, feeling a bit of comfort in her words. "Thanks, Kelly. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Anytime," she said, giving you a reassuring smile. "Now, let's get out of here and go get some drinks,” Kelly said, helping you to your feet. With some convincing from her, you agreed to head back to the same club. Though hesitant, not wanting any feelings about that night to resurface, Kelly's persistence won you over. Unknowingly to you, Armando was there too. You sat at the bar, waiting to get drinks for you and Kelly, lost in your thoughts, when a familiar voice interrupted them.
"Mind if I join you?" Armando asked, his expression unreadable. You stiffened, but gestured to the empty seat next to you. "Sure." For a moment, neither of you spoke, the thumping bass of Megan Thee Stallion’s “Thot Shit” filling the silence. Finally, Armando took a deep breath and broke the tension.
"I've been meaning to talk to you about that night," he said, his voice barely audible over the noise. "I didn't want things to be awkward between us."
You looked at him, your heart pounding. "It's not just about that night, Armando. It's about everything since then. I know I left without saying anything to you, and I regret doing it, but it feels like you’ve been toying with me. Keeping your distance, giving me one-word responses... and Lana," you said slowly, locking eyes with him.
Armando's expression softened, and he leaned closer. "I never meant to toy with you. Lana and I are just friends. I didn't realize how it looked from your perspective."
"You didn't realize?"... “Nigga really?” you echoed, frustration bubbling up. "How could you not see it? Every time I see you two together, it's like a knife in my heart."
"I know, and I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "I was trying to keep things professional and not make things awkward, but I see now that I ended up doing the opposite." His phone buzzed again, and you saw Lana's name flash on the screen. The sight of it was too much to bear. "See, this the shit I'm talking about just go be with her, Armando."
You got up to go back to Kelly when he reached out to grab your hand gently. "No, listen to me. Lana isn't who I want. You are." Your heart skipped a beat, but doubt still lingered. "Then why didn't you say anything before? Why let me suffer in silence?"
"I was scared," he admitted, his voice raw. "Scared of making things worse, scared of losing you. But I can't keep pretending. I have feelings for you, real feelings, and I want to be with you." The sincerity in his eyes made your resolve waver as this is the most emotional you ever seen Armando. “If that's true, then we need to start being honest with each other. “No more games and hiding how we really feel about each other."
He nodded, a look of relief washing over his face. "Agreed. No more hiding.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the tension start to lift. "Okay. But you have to prove it, Armando. Show me that you're serious."
“Mami, te puedo mostrar cómo puedo demostrarlo.” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. As the noise of the club swirled around you, a glimmer of hope began to stir within you. Maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time.
Translations
“ Mami, te puedo mostrar cómo puedo demostrarlo.” - Mami I can show you how I can prove it
“Me estás volviendo loca - You’re driving me crazy
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slut4hee · 1 month
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MY HEART, MY MIND, AND MY BODYミ★
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{Paring: Sneaky link Heeseung x Blk Fem! Reader
{Synopsis: you know you should ignore his texts, you know you shouldn’t answer when he calls but your heart, your mind, and your body tells you otherwise.
{Genre: smut, fwb relationship, Heeseung is toxic asf, reader is in love with him but he wants to keep their relationship strictly just fucking, good dick game Heeseung.🤭
{Warnings: oral (f receiving) , squirting, Heeseung is kinda a jerk to reader, reader cries, Heeseung manipulates reader by giving her some bomb ass head.
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You know you should have been blocked him, ignored his text and moved on with your life because you know you deserve better but it’s not easy when you’re dealing with someone like Lee Heeseung.
You throw your phone on your bed when you read the texts he sent you, the same exact messages he sends you every weekend that you’re starting to grow tired of.
Mr Big Red Flag🙄🚩: You up?
Mr Big Red Flag🙄🚩: Mind if I slide over? I’m so hard right now
Mr Big Red Flag🙄🚩: you ignoring me or sum I can see that you were active 3 mins ago 🤨
You: What is it Hee? I’m not in the mood right now😐
Mr Big Red Flag🙄🚩: Damn baby what’s all the attitude for? I ain’t did nothing wrong to you so chill out🤷‍♂️
You: CHILL OUT? Stg get tf off my phone with that shit, you know exactly why I’m acting out this way😒
“Is he fucking for real right now” you scoff loudly as you turn your phone on dnd for the night and lock it. You get up to go take you a nice warm shower to clear your head and rinse off the shitty day you had. After showering and doing your night routine you decided to grab a snack and binge watch twilight for the 100th time. As you’re laying on your couch watching your movie you hear a knock on your door and it startles you.
“Who the fuck is knocking at my door this late” you question yourself as you hop off the couch to see who has the audacity to disturb your peace, you look out the peephole and you’re met with none other than Heeseung himself standing outside your door. You scoff in annoyance wondering why he decided to show up to your apartment without telling you.
“Y/n c’mon baby, open up the door I know you’re in there your car is parked outside” he waves at your ring camera,
“Heeseung why are you here?”Just do me a favor and go back to your place because I’m not letting you in mines” you roll your eyes walking away from the front door.
You grow frustrated when Heeseung continues to knock at your door, you hurry up and run to open the door when he starts to yell and cause commotion and out of fear of waking your neighbors and getting a noice complaint you let him in.
“Do you seriously have to make so much noise, I have neighbors Heeseung” you glare at him wanting nothing more to punch him in his face more like sit on it, you just noticed how freaking good he looks sporting just a black hoodie and gray sweats with his hood over his head with his bangs slightly visible. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you’re starting to forget just why you’re so angry with him but that’s just how much of an effect he has on you.
“I mean if you would have just opened the damn door when I first knocked, I wouldn’t have had to yell for you to let me in” he says sarcastically looking at you with a knowing look as he steps more into your apartment making his way towards your couch where your movie is paused and your snacks left behind. Your eyes follow him as he plops down on your couch and manspreads, you can feel yourself getting wet at the sight of him and you mentally curse at yourself “you’re supposed to be mad at him Y/n” you tell yourself.
“Why are you standing all the way over there for aren’t you gonna come sit down?” He asks you as he pops some of the popcorn from your bowl in his mouth and gestures you to come to him. Subconsciously you obey him as you make your way to the couch sitting on the other side of it creating some distance between you two.
“Why didn’t you text me back baby?” He gets up and sits next to you and facing his body towards you. You roll your eyes at him as you push him back away from you trying to keep the distance between you and him but he’s not having it.
“You gonna tell me what’s got you acting all pissy?” He asks kinda coldly and clearly annoyed by your actions but who is he to feel frustrated, he’s the reason why you’re acting this way in the first place.
“Oh nothing Heeseung, maybe I’m just tired of you only hitting me up when you want to get in my panties, you never really check up on me it’s always when you’re looking to get your dick wet” you spit angrily at him folding your arms over your chest.
“I mean that’s the only reason why I should be contacting you Y/n baby come on we been through this already, no strings attached and no catching feelings strictly sex” He moves closer to you putting his hand on your thigh caressing it gently, you almost melt into his touch getting lost in the feeling of his hands on your body when you snap back into reality and swat his hand away.
“Heeseung look, I don’t know if I can keep doing this I think we should just end things and go our separate ways” You try to say sternly but instead it comes off shaky and weak. You try to fight back the tears that’s threatening to fall but it hurts so bad, it hurts so bad you fell in love with him, it hurts so bad knowing you compromised yourself for a man that doesn’t see you no more than a booty call and you feel so disgusted with yourself.
“Baby you don’t mean that, tell me you don’t mean that” He says softy while pulling you closer to him and grabbing your hand leaving soft kisses on your knuckles. You let the tears fall even more when he does this because you know deep down he’s only trying to make you feel better because he doesn’t want you to leave him.
“Mama look, I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings and I’m really trying to be better for you but you can’t just leave me like this darling, not after all we’ve been through” he tries to reassure you as he pulls you into his lap, he looks in your eyes as he draws little circles on your back trying to calm you down.
“Do you love me Heeseung and do you care for me like you say you do or is it all fun and games for you” You look at him with a stern yet saddened look and he can’t help but feel just a little ping of guilt in his chest, he doesn’t answer your question but instead pulls you in for a passionate kiss. You know you shouldn’t be kissing him right now instead you should be kicking him out of your apartment and blocking his contact ending it for good but nope you’re falling into his trap once again.
“You know how i feel about you baby girl now just let daddy take care of you okay? Let me kiss it all better” He says pulling away from the kiss and next minute you’re being lifted in his arms as he takes you to your bedroom. He lays you down on the bed softly as he lays his body on top of yours. He goes to attack your lips once again and you feel like you could just cream from the feeling of his soft pillowy lips on yours, he sucks on your bottom lip and starts to prod his tongue for permission to enter and you let him.
“Hee please” you pull away from the kiss begging him for more, you didn’t realize it had been a week since you last fucked, since you had been ignoring him and you mentally pat yourself on the back for even being able to go that long without having him inside you but now it feels as if you are gonna die if you don’t have his cock inside you right this instant.
“Please what princess, talk to daddy tell me what you want” he groans when he feels the heat radiating off your body and his cock is straining against his jeans, he’s so damn hard he’s afraid as soon as he puts it in your tight little hole he’ll explode right then and there.
“P-Please touch me daddy I want you so bad I need to feel you hee” you whine when you feel him play with the hem of your sleep shorts, he pulls the elastic band back and let it snap back making you yelp in pain and pleasure at this point you feel your pussy soaking and begging for attention.
“Oh is that what you want darling? For daddy to touch your little pretty pussy” he hums as he leans down to start leaving kisses and gentle bites on your inner thighs, you clench around nothing and subconsciously buck up your hips when he gets closer to where you need him the most and you whine out of frustration.
“H-Heeseung please touch me, I beg please make me feel good I want you to play with my pussy FUCK” tears start to prickle in your eyes when you feel his hot breath on your clothed core, you squirm and whimper when he starts to rub your clit through your soaked panties.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me all for me right nobody else?” he questions as he starts run his fingers through your wet clothed folds causing you to let out a high pitched moan.
“Yes seungie, all for you I don’t want nobody else but you this pussy is all yours always been yours” Heeseung smirks at your words and decides it’s time to stop teasing and give you what you’re begging for so he taps on your legs signaling for you to lift up from the mattress so he can slide your panties off. Once he’s got your panties off he licks a stripe of your pussy and start to suck on your clit.
“Oh Fuck Yes baby just like that, Shit your tongue feels so good baby boy” Heeseung groans at your words and the vibration of the groan sends a jolt of pleasure through your body and you start to comb your fingers through his locks gripping onto them.
“God baby this pussy taste so fucking sweet, can’t get enough of you that’s why I keep coming back to this wet little delicious pussy” Heeseung starts to suck and slurp your pussy like a starved man, you can feel the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone when you feel him tongue fucking your tight hole and swirling his tongue all inside.
“Oh my god daddy I’m gonna cum please let me cum i beg you please let me I been such a good girl” you cry out as you feel your body trembling and your legs shaking uncontrollably after Heeseung delivers a harsh suck to your clit and you come undone on his tongue squirting your juices all over his mouth and on your bedsheets.
“Fuck that was so damn hot baby, naughty little pussy squirting so much for me such a good fucking girl” he comes up to kiss you, you whimper against his lips when you taste the faint taste of your cum on his lips.
“So, do you still wanna leave me?”
A/n: This was inspired by Summer Walker’s song Body, it’s one of my favorite songs by her and for some reason I somehow came up with this idea😩 but hope you guys enjoy this one and please feel free to reblog😁💋
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