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foxy-eva · 7 months ago

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Send Nudes

Summary: Chaos ensues after you accidentally send Spencer a nude pic

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) dub-con (Spencer receives an unsolicited nude pic), embarrassment, awkwardness, tension, heavy kissing, male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), handjob, protected penetrative sex

Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Wrong Recipient Challenge!

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

Panic. Embarrassment. Shame.

It was hard to describe what you felt when you stared at your phone, realizing that you had just sent Spencer Reid a nude picture of yourself.

It was a mistake, of course – right when you wanted to send him a screenshot of an article, you stumbled over the mess in your apartment and selected the wrong picture. Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the read receipt showed up instantly.

Spencer had just seen your naked body light up on the screen of his phone.

A picture he never asked for and probably didn't want to see. It wasn’t a bad photo, some might even call it aesthetically pleasing. But you had never intended for anyone else to see it. It was just a way for you to make yourself feel good about your body.

You contemplated your options. Burning your phone, moving across the country and changing your identity sounded intriguing but difficult to arrange. Instead you decided to text Spencer, hoping that soon you’d both be able to laugh about the embarrassing thing you just did.

“I am so sorry about that. I really didn't mean to send that! Can you please delete the pic and forget about it?”

You didn't get a response. Spencer was never great at texting but you had really hoped to hear back from him. It was hard to tell if he felt just as embarrassed or maybe even offended – you certainly wouldn't want to receive unsolicited nude pics either.

You had barely gotten any sleep when you walked into work the next morning. Worst case scenarios had plagued your mind all night – from another painful workplace sexual harassment seminar to maybe even losing your job over your mishap – you had no idea what would expect you today.

Everything seemed normal when you got to your desk, except for the fact that your favorite coworker didn't even look at you when you walked by him. Spencer usually liked sitting beside you in the conference room and also on the jet, but he did neither of those things that day.

“Wow you really must have pissed Reid off, huh?” Luke whispered when he sat down beside you on the plane.

“Did he say anything to you?” you wanted to know.

“No, he didn't. What did you do? Spill coffee over his favorite chess board?” he teased.

“Oh it’s so much worse than that,” you whined while heat rushed to your face.

Emily decided to discuss the case before Luke could ask more questions. Spencer avoided you for the next couple of hours until you decided you both had suffered enough.

A quiet moment in the coffee kitchen of the police precinct seemed good enough to approach him.

“Hey Spencer,” you said and noticed how he almost jumped at the sound of your voice.

“H…hi,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the floor.

Stepping closer, he finally looked at you for the first time that day. The rosy shade spreading over his cheeks was impossible to ignore.

“I’m very sorry about the… you know. I didn't mean to send it but I understand if you feel offended by it,” you sincerely told him.

“I’m not… offended.”

You took a deep breath before you continued talking, “All I want to say is… if you want to discuss this incident with Emily or even HR, I would understand. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.”

“No, it’s okay, really,” he lied. “We can just forget about it.”

Spencer Reid was good at many things. Lying, however, definitely wasn’t his strong suit. You decided to drop the subject for now, aware that talking more about it would probably not make him less uncomfortable.

The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the workday. When you stepped into your hotel room that night, you were relieved to finally have a couple of walls between the two of you.

If this thing didn't resolve soon, you’d have to talk to Emily about it eventually. But there was still hope that it wouldn't come to that. The embarrassment about your mishap was already bad enough as is.

The three knocks on your hotel door startled you. With your heart beating uncomfortably fast, you walked over to the door to find Spencer on the other side.

He walked into your room without saying a word. Then he began slowly pacing up and down your room, still silent. He looked at you for a second but his sight fell to the floor immediately after that.

“I uh…” he began before taking a deep breath. “I lied to you earlier.”

“About what?” you wanted to clarify. “Wanting to go to HR?”

He shook his head. “I said that we can just forget about it but I don’t think I can do that.”

Your heart felt heavy at his words. His discomfort pained you and you wished nothing more than to be able to take it back. “I’m so sorry Spencer.”

“I deleted the image off my phone but…” he paused to finally look at you. The expression written over his face was hard to read. What you didn't find was the discomfort you expected. Instead he looked… cocky?

He continued, “...it seems like it’s burned into my brain. And I can’t help but wonder, was it really an accident?”

“What?! Of course!” you squeaked. “Believe me, I would never want to send you a picture like that unprompted.”

That was when you saw a subtle smirk on his face. “Interesting choice of words.”

You thought about it for a moment. Had you really just implied that you would want to send him nudes if he’d ask you to?

“That's not what I meant,” you tried to brush it off. “And please don’t give me a lecture about Freudian slips.”

His presence filled the room and you felt like you couldn't take deep enough breaths to satiate your need for oxygen. His demeanor was so different from what you were used to and you had trouble wrapping your head around it.

His next question was even more surprising. “Who did you take this picture for?”

The undertone in his voice was unsettling and you started feeling defensive. “I don’t see how that's any of your business but just for the record, I took it for myself. I do that occasionally to make myself feel good about my body.”

It seemed as if he was content, almost relieved with your answer. You scanned his body language again and replayed his words in your head. Then it hit you all at once. Spencer was not here to scold you for what you did.

He was jealous. And he wanted to make sure no one else got to see your picture.

A grin formed on your face as you realized that you could play this game too.

Your tone was laced with a certain playfulness when you asked, “What did you do after you saw the picture?”

The change of your demeanor seemed to take Spencer by surprise. “I just told you, I deleted it.”

“I don't think that's all you did.” He audibly gulped and you noticed his cheeks taking on a reddish color. Stepping closer to him, you whispered, “Did you touch yourself, Spencer?”

A shaky breath left his mouth before he confessed, “Yes.”

“Naughty boy,” You teased him. “You really liked that image, hm?”

Nodding, he took a step forward until there was barely any space between the two of you. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

His words boosted your confidence. “I know I look great in that pic. But I think I would look even better in this lighting right here, don’t you think?”

Before you could bring to action what you had insinuated, you felt Spencer's hands cupping your face to pull you into a kiss. The surprised gasp escaping your throat was muffled by his lips against yours.

He kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. Weakness rushed to your knees and you had to hold onto him to not tumble back. One hand pawed at his shirt while the other one held onto his shoulder. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours.

When his tongue begged for entrance, you let it. As he deepened the kiss, you could feel heat rushing through body. A few moments ago you really thought you’d have the upper hand in this game you were playing but now realized you were just as pathetic as he was.

Maybe sending him that image was a Freudian slip of some kind. Or maybe it was just some odd plan the universe had to bring you together. Either way, you were grateful for how things turned out.

Your hands became curious as they wandered over Spencer’s body. The tingling in your fingertips could only be soothed by feeling his skin underneath them, so they quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. Spencer showed a similar interest in feeling more of you by the way his fingers dropped down to the hem of your shirt.

Piece after piece both of your clothes fell to the floor, only ever breaking the kiss for as long as necessary. When you stood completely bare in front of one another, you dared to press your body against his to feel him.

It was impossible to tell who moaned first when his length pressed against your stomach. With a firm grip on his shoulders, you moved him back until his legs made contact with the edge of the bed. You pushed down until he sat on the mattress, staring up at you with a curiosity in his eyes that made your heart jump.

As you stepped back, his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick over his lips and you wondered if he thought about tasting you. To your surprise, he managed to not break eye contact until you challenged him, “Go on, take a look.”

His sight scanned your body, lingering on your breasts for a second before moving further down, taking everything in. You couldn’t hold back from looking at him, too. A rosy color had spread all over his cheeks and chest and when you dared to drop your eyes to his cock, you noticed how it twitched slightly against his thigh.

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed when your eyes met again.

“Better than the image?” you teased, smirking at him.

He only nodded before looking at your body again. It was like he was mesmerized, as if a miracle had just unfolded right before him. It became obvious that he was ready to worship you if you’d let him. But first, you had something else in your mind.

“Show me exactly what you did when you saw my picture,” you told him.

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Wh… what?”

“Don’t be shy now,” you snickered. “Come on, I wanna see how pretty you think I am.”

The sweet smile on your face seemed to encourage him enough to let his right hand move towards his hardness. It was as if he needed reassurance when he found your eyes and you nodded.

He wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a squeeze and you watched as precum spilled over the tip. Slowly, he began moving his fist up and down his length, swiping his thumb over the head each time he got to the top. The groan that slipped from his lips could only be described as absolutely sinful.

You couldn’t deny how much the sight in front of you turned you on. Spencer was so incredibly beautiful and the thought that your body had the ability to make him feral like that drove you insane.

Arousal gathered at your entrance the longer you watched him. This show was no longer enough for you, you needed more. Your hands found the curve of your chest, gently kneading them before your fingers began toying with your hardened peaks. Spencer’s eyes were fixated on your hands, his mouth hanging wide open and unabashedly moaning at the sight while accelerating the pace of his hand.

Then suddenly, he stopped and got up from bed. Desperation was written all over his face when he looked at you.

“Please,” he begged as he stepped closer. “I need to touch you.”

It was everything you wanted right then, too.

“I’m all yours, Spencer.”

His mouth was on yours in an instant and he didn’t waste any time to move you over to the bed to push you onto the mattress. He followed quickly, towering over you as he kissed down your neck, making you moan in anticipation of what would follow.

He moved further down your body, kissing and nipping on the tender flesh of your breasts before focusing his attention on your nipples. The sensation was almost unbearable and you could feel how your arousal began coating the insides of your thighs.

Spencer smiled against your skin when he noticed you rocking your hips against his leg every so slightly. His confidence grew as he realized that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

“Needy,” he chuckled as he kissed down your stomach. “That’s cute.”

Right then you couldn’t care less about being in charge, you just wanted to be taken care of. When his lips brushed over your inner thigh, you opened your legs further to give him better access. He lay down between your legs and didn’t waste any time before he began leaving feather light kisses against your folds.

You watched as he licked his own lips, tasting your essence on them before he found your eyes.

“You’re so wet,” he teased and let a finger move along your slit. “Is that all for me?”

He expected a witty response, like you telling him to bring his mouth to good use for once. So it took him by surprise when you simply sighed, “Yes.”

There was no more game to play. No more back and forth of who was in charge. It was just the two of you, equally as desperate to finally do what you both had been dreaming of for weeks.

“Good,” Spencer whispered, his hot breath tickling your core, before he finally granted you some relief.

His tongue moved through your folds, collecting your taste before he focussed on your most sensitive spot. He experimented with different motions for a few moments, paying attention to your reactions until he found what you enjoyed the most. Your hand flew to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his curls to hinder him from moving away – even though he had no intention to do so, anyway.

With one arm wrapped around your thigh he hindered you from bucking uncontrollably against his face while his other hand found your entrance, letting two fingers slip into you with ease. He moved with great precision, adjusting the angle and the pace according to your reactions, bringing you closer to your breaking point with every second passing.

The sounds of your pleasure filled the room as you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. With just a few more skillful motions, he pushed you over it. Your walls pulsed around his fingers while your entire body shook. He worked you through your orgasm before he lay back down beside you, placing a gentle kiss against your lips.

You were still panting when you found his eyes. The warm amber of his irises was almost completely swallowed by his pupils, the lust visible in his eyes contradicting the saccharine smile he showed you.

“You okay?” he breathed as he wrapped one arm around your waist.

“Yeah,” you confirmed while one of your hands moved down his body.

Tentatively, you let your fingertips brush along his length, feeling his velvety skin under your touch. “Now what are we gonna do with you?” you purred as you wrapped your fingers tightly around him, making him gasp.

With a torturously slow pace, you moved along his cock. “Tell me, Spencer. What do you want?”

“I uhm…,” he audibly swallowed. “I have a condom in my pocket.”

The fact that he brought a condom to your hotel room when he came over early amused you. He never had any intention of just talking to you.

“So, you want to fuck me?”

“Yes,” he admitted unabashedly. “If you want that, too, of course.”

With a nod you confirmed that that was exactly what you wanted as well. Right after you let go of him, he grabbed his pants from the floor to take out the foil wrapper. You watched as he ripped it open and carefully rolled down the condom.

Then, he kneeled down between your legs, taking a moment to admire the beauty of the woman in front of him.

“Come here,” you cooed and he leaned over you without hesitation.

Reaching between your bodies, you guided him to your entrance. He closed his eyes when he slowly entered you, relishing the sensation of stretching you open inch by inch. When he was fully inside you, he kissed you before he began moving with slow thrusts.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you brought him even closer. When he was sure that you could take it, he accelerated his pace, fucking you against the mattress until you were sure you would lose your mind.

Spencer’s body began trembling and he suddenly stopped moving.

“Sorry, I’m really close,” he whined and tried to pull out slightly.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded as you kept him in place with your legs around him. “Please, I need it.”

One of your hands moved down to where your bodies were joined to desperately draw circles around your little nub, making you clench hard around his hardness.

“Fuck,” he whimpered as he began moving again. “I can’t, ah–”

With just a few more deep thrusts Spencer came, his cock twitching inside you as his whole body shook. It was enough to throw you over edge too, entering a state of pure bliss together with him. After you had both come down from your high, you welcomed him inside your embrace, your fingertips gently dancing over his back as he caught his breath.

For the sake of getting cleaned up you separated for a few moments, only to lay back down together soon after. A shaky breath fell from Spencer’s lips and caught your attention.

“So…,” he began talking but didn’t continue.

You propped yourself up on one elbow to find his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask if maybe–”

“You want me to send you that pic again?” you interrupted him with a grin on your face.

“No,” he laughed. “I mean… that’s not what I wanted to say.”

Still in a teasing mood, you snickered, “But you would like to see that pic again?”

“You know what,” he chuckled as he lifted the blanket to get a peek at your naked body. “I think I actually prefer this.”

“Good,” you chirped. “If you want to see more of me you’ll have to take me on a date though.”

Placing a soft kiss on your lips, he whispered, “Deal.”

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!

Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings

#spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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inupibaldspot · 1 year ago

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Walk him like a dog

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : The first year trio are watching Gojo who is completely head over heels for you.

To the world, Gojo Satoru is the strongest but to the people who know him Gojo Satoru is a menace.

When he was in high school, he was a different breed. Yaga could not sleep at times from all the stress Gojo would cause; be it either an earful from the higher ups or checking the news only to find out there had been an explosion conveniently where Gojo’s mission was assigned.

Sometimes he would get pictured sent to him by the problem student himself, a picture with a beaten up enemy and Gojo winking at the camera with a note saying ‘Yay~ another victory! I mean it’s as normal as breathing for me (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ’

Even when Yaga would use his authority and lecture him, sometimes Gojo Satoru would not listen; be it simply ignoring or rebutting it with his opinion— an opinion no one asks for.

And when that happens, Yaga would pull out his secret weapon ‘You’! He didn’t use this card all the time but at time Gojo was simply so uncooperative, he had to! Any word coming from you would be listened to by him as if it were law. Right now, at the age of 28 he seemed to have matured- no stopped acting as childish and Yaga didn’t have to rely on you so often.

That same Yaga watches from the window at his new first years— Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuji and Fushiguro Megumi— behind a bush, hiding peeking over to you and Gojo who were on a bench.

“Ah…” Kugisaki sweat dropped at the pair. “Gojo-sensei is so smitten.” She said observing at how you were simply reading a book, as Gojo yaps away but one thing very obvious was the gentle look he gave you.

When you finally looked Gojo’s way, their white haired teacher suddenly stops, they notice a faint blush peeping under his blindfolds and when he does starts talking he stammers. THE Gojo Satoru was stammering, biting his tongue simply because you were looking at him.

“Kugisaki, let’s leave.” Itadori covers his eyes, his right eye peeps through the cracks of his fingers. “Sensei is doing such a bad job at flirting with y/n, I’m getting embarrassed.”

Kugisaki lifts her hands and grabs the collar of Itadori’s and starts shaking it. “This is the closest we’re getting to romance in this school and I want to be the witness.” She grits her teeth.

Just then Nanami walks along the path, making the pair look over. You smile as you call out. “Nanami-kun.”

Nanami stops and waits as you stand from your bench, walking over to greet him. The students stare; as soon as you got off the bench and walks Gojo follows suit not even a millisecond later.

Kugisaki cringes. “He is like a puppy…”

They could vaguely hear Gojo start to make fun of Nanami, but when you think his ‘joke’ was a slight bit too harsh; they watch you give Gojo a side eye and almost immediately their teacher shuts up.

‘y/n has the strongest sorcerer at the palm of their hands .’ Kugisaki and Itadori collectively thought.

Before Kugisaki could comment she senses a small wet feeling on her forehead, then another and then she was drowning in it. Suddenly it started raining.

“Geh. Let’s get out of here.” Kugisaki says as she quickly brought her hands up to cover her bangs. “I don’t want my hair to frizz up.”

Itadori and Fushiguro follows her lead as they walk away to the nearby building and when they did reach shelter, Kugisaki quickly turns around to check on their teacher and you, a fellow sorcerer.

Her mouth drops slightly taking in the situation at hand, Nanami was no where in sight. She assumes he left because of the rain too.

But that wasn’t the focus.

Her eyes were focused on Gojo and you, holding hands smiling fondly at each other, she also noted that he was using ‘Infinity’ to not get wet from the rain.

Gojo laughs as he raises one of your hands high which makes you let out laugh, but complies as you proceed to twirl. As soon as you make two twirls, their teacher places his hands on your face as his leans down, his lips on yours.

Kugisaki and Itadori squeal and blushes at the intimate scene infront of them, jumping. “Sensei, finally did it! He kissed y/n—!” Itadori smiles.

They watch you smile into the kiss and you bring your hands up behind his neck, slowly trailing them into his hair, deepening the kiss.

“I’m so happy,Kugisaki.” Itadori wipes his tears with the back of his hands, extremely happy for his teacher’s happiness and success in his love life.

“I don’t know why you guys are making such a fuss.” Fushiguro finally decides to add into the antics of his classmates.

“Huh?” Kugisaki quickly turns and glares at the dark haired man. ”Is your heart made of stone or something,Fushiguro?”

“Yeah! I heard Gojo-sensei basically raised you.” Itadori chirps in. “You should be more happy for him.”

Kugisaki nods in agreement.

“I mean…” Fushiguro sighs as his hands are up massaging his temple, mentally preparing for the outburst to come.

“They’re married…”

“Ehhhhh???”

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo imagine #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk

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piastappies · 9 months ago

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ᯓᡣ𐭩 GORGEOUS! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

summary. the youngest leclerc was known to be an outgoing, extroverted menace, but suddenly when she meets the new mclaren driver, she does something she never does — gets embarrassing.

notes. a fair warning for the google translated french.im sorry if it sucks 😭😭 its my first time doing something like this and i really hope u like it :3 ALSO??? OSCAR WIN IN BAKU WAS SO BEAUTIFUL THE OVERTAKE?? THE DEFENDING?? a great day for piastrination!!!!! (can you tell i totally dig x leclerc!reader??) send requests for more smaus pls :)

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc and 127 621 others.

yourusername spreading the rbr agenda on the streets of kyoto, because your girl finally graduated journalism and engineering with honours!

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arthur_leclerc charles just saw the jacket and had an aneurysm LMAO

user1 someone check on leclerc pls

charles_leclerc cant believe my OWN baby sister wears that in public

yourusername ill take it off once ferrari releases their own energy drink 👍

alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous as usual ❤️

yourusername please dump my brother and date me instead

yourusername please i beg you

yourusername JUST ONE CHANCE 😭😭😣😣😣😭😭

user2 yn is one of us

maxverstappen1 looking good in blue! 💙

loved by author!

yourbff girl land that job or you gon go broke soon with that red bull addiction 👎👎👎

user3 atp yn is sponsoring the team 😭

yourbff you bet she is, girl

user4 double major in such different things pop off queen

user5 need to see her in paddock cos i know the girl is bout to argue with ferrari engineers

yourusername bin*tto left ferrari cos he knew i would drag him down 😁😁😁

user6 love how we had to go thru the 2023 drought without the baby leclerc and now shes baaaack

user7 fr i missed the times when ferrari wasnt the only thing making charles miserable

user7 congratulations on graduating queen!!!! cant wait for the new vid or to see u at one of the races 🥺

user8 im sorry im really new to f1 stuff who is she and why are the drivers here? 😭

user9 this is charlies sister yn!! but she has her youtube channel where she used to post a lot of diff stuff! shes been living in japan for the past four years of her undergrad degrees but due to the workload she had a hiatus for a year 💔💔 u should check out her channel its so cool

arthur_leclerc

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 320 612 others.

arthur_leclerc good day in monaco today, changing professions to a photographer rn, what u think of that?

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user10 arthur you had one job to bring your sister to paddock…

user11 its just friday girl calm down

yourusername please restrain yourself from posting pictures of that ugly face you see in the mirror

yourusername …WHO IS IN THE SECOND SLIDE

yourusername ARTHUR ANSWER ME

yourusername my ovaries are quacking rn ARTHUR ANSWER ME

user12 not yn simping over oscar AND calling arthur ugly 😭😭😭

user13 shes so me tbh

charles_leclerc such a handsome man on the third slide 🔥🔥🔥

olliebearman why is yn tweaking like that 😭

yourusername cos he’s so pretty

oscarpiastri you were supposed to send me the picture not POST IT

user14 this is the guy yourusername 🔥‼️‼️

yourusername omg hes SO gorgeous

oscarpiastri thank you…?

arthur_leclerc yourusername please stop embarrassing the family name

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 101 892 others.

yourusername a quick pit stop in paris before the monaco course is broken!!!!!! (source: trust me bro 🙂‍↕️) drinking for my pookie dookiest brother to secure that pole and p1 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

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yourusername dont let the caption fool you, i am NOT stopping drinking vodka red bull to make sure rbr doesn’t lose their biggest sponsor (me)

maxverstappen1 ty for your service 🫡🫡

yourusername no prob pookie, lecfosi by association but a red bull girlie at heart 😌😌

yourusername big thanks to the autocorrect ❤️❤️❤️ youre the real one babe 🔥🔥🔥

user15 wait till she realises oscar is in the likes…

user16 ohh the girl is gonna be so messy 😭😭😭

user16 im all for it tho 🔥

lilymhe WHAT A GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL

alexandrasaintmleux face card is never denied!

user17 oscar in the likes 🥹🥹

yourusername WHO IS IN THE LIKES??????

yourusername NOO OH MY GOD HES HERE

yourusername HI YOURE SUPER CUTE oscarpiastri

user18 SHE TAGGED HIM LOL

user19 she really want that dick…

yourusername i just think hes cute that is NOT a crime

oscarpiastri i think you’re really cute too :)

yourusername HXJSKSJJDBDJSJS

yourusername sorry a red bull ran across my screen 😭

arthur_leclerc yourbff please tell her she’s not as slick as she thinks she is

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user20 what do you expect 😭😭 she probably partied all night before getting to monaco

user21 LMAOO RIGHT??? but if you watched her vids you know that the girl LOVES an opportunity for a party

user22 yn stronger than me because i’d kiss him on the spot

user23 alr weirdo… they JUST met

user24 he is probably weirded out like imagine meeting a girl who SIMPS over you in the insta comments… she needs to chill

user25 he won’t pick you 👎👎

user26 gtfo if he was weirded out he wouldnt be in the likes of her post or sayin he thinks shes cute lol

user27 the real gentleman out there 🥹🥹

user28 i need them together asap

user29 super delulu but i totally dig the golden retriever gf x polite black cat bf

user30 OMGGG I TOTALLY SEE THE VISION

user31 pls they just met and he was just being polite 👎 stop trying to get into their lives

yourusername

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 428 621 others.

yourusername HE DID IT!!!! I TOLD YALL THAT HE WOULD DO IT!!! MY BROTHER WINS IN MONACO. DONT HIT US UP FOR THE NEXT WEEK OR TWO!!! ITS CELEBRATION TIME!!!! aussi, charlie, il n'y a pas beaucoup de mots capables d'exprimer à quel point je suis fier de toi. vous l'avez fait et personne ne peut vous l'enlever.

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priniya translation! also, charlie — there isn’t an amount of words able to express how proud i am of you. you did it and no one can take it away from you.

user32 girlie might tell everyone she’s a red bull girl, but like the king sebastian once said, everyone is a ferrari fan even when they say they’re not or something like that 🔥🔥🔥

user33 CONGRATULATIONS CHARLES!!! FINALLY WON!!!

carlossainz55 ay cropped my ‘carlos p3’ out 😖😖

yourusername this is a celebration post for my pookiest brother you are IRRELEVANT rn

carlossainz55 that was harsh

yourusername win YOUR home race and i’ll post one 4 u 👍👍

charles_leclerc je t’aime mon lutin ❤️

yourusername je t’aime mon coco 🫶🫶🫶

oscarpiastri congratulations to the man of the day, such an honour to stand next to you on the podium xx

arthur_leclerc man you gotta stop commenting on her posts, she’s going insane rn

oscarpiastri i’m sorry…?

yourusername NO DONT BE SORRY DONT LISTEN TO HIM IM COMPLETELY SANE

yourusername oscarpiastri please keep interacting with me i’m gonna die if you listen to arthur

oscarpiastri i guess i gotta text you now and then to make sure you don’t die

yourusername please do that

user34 do they know we can see that??

user35 idc im eating this up

user36 oscaryn truthers rise and shine

user37 atp i cant tell if hes interested or if hes doing that for his own entertainment

user38 probably both

user39 i LOVE how a celebration post for charles turned into an opportunity to flirt with oscar 😭😭

user40 she is NOT stronger than me because if i had a chance i’d took it

user41 setting her priorities straight

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 792 721 others.

oscarpiastri a quick but very much needed pit stop before zandvoort

view all comments!

user42 someone check on yn ASAP

user43 yn one of us once again because we couldn’t bag oscar either 😭

user44 can yall stop talking abt that girl FOR ONCE no one gaf

landonorris looking good mate

liked by the author!

yourusername pls tell me you found more of these beautiful seashells and brought some back for me

oscarpiastri we did actually! y immediately thought abt you and picked the pretty ones

yourusername GOD. i love her give her a big hug from me

oscarpiastri will do maam 🫡🫡

user45 so it’s not yn in the pics?? NOOOOO

user46 my life is ruined rn

user47 throwing oscaryn into a memory box because oscar and his gf looks really cute together

charles_leclerc hope you had a great summer mate

oscarpiastri the best 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

user48 what if they r just trolling us because this caption looks really similar to the one yn posted before monaco???

user49 OMGGG YOURE ONTO SOMETHING

user50 hopefully on the way to the psych ward because this is some delulu shit

user51 soft launch over the summer 🥹🥹 hes so cute

user52 whoever his girl is, i just hope they’re happy and yall should too!

yourusername also plsplspls can y send me the id to the top?? it looks so cute from the back

user53 girl he wont choose you stop trying so hard 😭😭

user54 they can be friends ? lol

user55 does someone knows who the girl is???? i need to know its not yn 😭😭

user56 georgerussell63 tell us what you know 🫵🫵

georgerussell63 🤐🤐🤐

alex_albon he’s actually crying and gritting his teeth because he’d LOVE to tell

gossipracegirl

liked by georgerussell63, user57 and 87 621 others.

gossipracegirl a rumour has it that a driver for formula one with a number eighty one was seen getting cozy with one of his on-track rival’s little sister, while in a relationship. was it a drunken mistake or was it all planned?

tagged oscarpiastri yourusername

view all comments!

user58 something is really wrong with leclercs one is a homie hopper and second is a homewrecker LOL

user59 shouldve happened in monaco so the people could get detained for invading their priacy like wtf WHO CARES

user60 all she do is bring bad pr to oscar BOO👎👎👎

user61 nooo oscar pookie you were supposed to be free from drama 😭😭

user62 gr63 in the likes LMAOO

user63 not yn being a homewrecker girl i liked u sm 😭😭

user64 yall acting like she’s in the wrong ? it gotta be consensual if they looked that chill n happy

user65 no wonder why yn has been streaming olivia rodrigo RELIGIOUSLY

user66 isnt that some type of incest atp?

user67 LMAOO imagine making out with your brother’s adopted son

yourusername

liked by pascale_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 273 811 others.

yourusername YALL THOUGHT. it was me all along :P i was giggling n kicking my feet pretending i know osco’s gf while it was ME. summer break vlog with osco coming up sooner than u think so please stop calling me a homewrecker 😖😖😖

also, girls don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, being yourself is what gets you an amazing guy even if your brother thinks youre embarrassing <3

tagged oscarpiastri

view all comments!

georgerussell63 ty for not SLACKING OFF anymore i barely could hold it inside 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

yourusername you told HALF the grid be for real brother you DID NOT hold it inside

fransisca.gomes no way oscar bagged you before i could 😭😭😭😭

yourusername i’m always gonna be yours kiks no one could take you away from me <3

francisca.gomes <3

pierregasly really thought getting u a bf would mean you leave MY girl alone

yourusername thinking is not your best thing, stick to racing

user68 shit user48 YOU WERE RIGHT

user48 NEVER DOUBT ME BITCHES

user69 this text?? oh he is down bad for you girl

user70 i need all of those bitches who called yn a homewrecker to APOLOGISE like rn

oscarpiastri thank you for letting me be a part of your life like this

user71 i know the girl is GIGGLING rn

yourusername thank YOU for making a part of YOUR life

user72 get yourself a man who THANKS you for being with you

user73 oscar piastri is the MAN

user74 osco 🥹🥹

user75 theyre the cutest your honour

arthur_leclerc cant believe you two are actually together

arthur_leclerc what is WRONG with you oscarpiastri

user76 SO OPPOSITES DOES ATTRACT

charles_leclerc i feel like i should tear those adoption papers apart no?

user77 nicole and pascale in the likes omg the moms r proud 🥹

hattiepiastri i miss youuuu come back to aus soon

yourusername I MISS YOU TOO 😭😭 i’ll be back soon!!

lorenzotl ❤️❤️❤️

liked by the author!

lilymhe double date when?

yourusername mark your calendar, we’ll be there 🫶

user78 does it mean we lose our favorite rbr girlie? 😭😭😭😖😖

user79 mclaren YOU TOOK HER AWAY FROM US 🫵

yourusername i am NOT wearing that ugly orange for a MAN (even if hes super gorgeous and sweet)

mclaren ☹️☹️☹️

landonorris it’s papaya

yourusername “it’s papaya” ☝️🤓

landonorris oscarpiastri please break up with her or you’re gonna be paying for my therapy

oscarpiastri send the bill mate, i’m in for the longest ride possible here

4K notes · View notes

azulpitlane · 1 month ago

Text

crush l ih6

summary: in which comments isack made on lewis hamilton’s daughter’s old instagram posts resurface

masterlist

yourusername march 2020 montauk, ny

liked by lewishamilton, isackhadjar and 8,739 others

yourusername officially licensed and two weeks off of school...life is good

view all comments

user imagine being lewis hamiltons daughter and being able to just drive around the hamptons for fun😔😔😔😔

user omg we got off school too!!

yourbff shoutout to covid🙏

yourusername fr!! i lowkey didnt study for that math test we were supposed to have on thursday

lewishamilton be careful driving!! especially in downtown

yourusername yes father, you only told me a million times already

user i want her life so bad

isackhadjar are you doing anything fun in these two weeks?

user please tell me im not the only one stalking her account after that twitter thread showing isacks comments on her old posts went viral

user YES!! i thought it was fake but hes really here😭😭

user omg i am too and im getting second hand embarrassment… this boy has NO game

yourusername march 2021 new york, new york

liked by lewishamilton, nicorosberg, and 8,128 others

yourusername quarantined birthday this year

view all comments

user nico still likes her pics💔💔💔

user im pretty sure he's her godfather so it makes sense

user the twilight cake is so real

isackhadjar happy birthday!! hopefully you still had fun even at home

user this is giving lando tweeting at carlos back in 2012

user he was crushing soo bad😭

user bro took being team lh too seriously and was literally trying to be a part of the family

user LMFAO his comments are so sweet and innocent though🥲 its kinda cute

yourusername december 2021 abu dhabi, uae

liked isackhadjar, lewishamilton and 10,739 others

yourusername its okay guys, hes still the father of two of the coolest kids so hes a winner forever

view all comments

yourbff are you implying roscoe is your brother?

yourusername well yes my dad birthed him

yourbff im-

user its still fuck the fia and verstappen though liked by author

lewishamilton true❤️ liked by author

user she was probably in attendance to see her dad win😭😭😭 this race was so rigged and unfair!!

yourusername straightened my hair for it and everything💔💔💔 (still very proud of my dad tho)

isackhadjar the final few laps were insane! can't imagine what it was like to be there

user LMFAOOO

user another one, thank you

user im gonna let these slide cause he was only like 17 when he wrote these

yourusername september 2022 new york, new york

liked by sebastianvettel, lewishamilton, and 19,402 others

yourusername proud to admit that my dad chose my outfit

view all comments

user using her nepotism to get into ny fashion week...honestly i respect it

user omg she's slowly becoming a fashion icon like lewis, name a more iconic duo!!!

user imagine being styled by THEE lewis hamilton

user the way the older drivers are always in her likes is so cute! i know they don't play about her

isackhadjar amazing🤩

user this might be the worst one...he wanted the effin cookie so bad...

user its also the last comment he made😞 he got tired of the no response LOL

user he still likes all of her photos to this day though!

isackhadjar

liked by liamlawson, yourusername and 153,425 others

isackhadjar miami weekend🇺🇸

view all comments

liamlawson was the first picture taken before or after you face planted?

isackhadjar can we please move on from that? PLEASE

user liam should not be making me laugh this hard😔 im a fake lawson hater i fear

user thanks for falling🙏 its now one of the most iconic f1 moments on history

user HADJOINTS!! I THINK IT WAS BECAUSE OF THE GREAT FALL OF 2025

user Y/N IS IN THE LIKES

user SHE FOLLOWED HIM BACK TOO

yourusername amazing🤩

user OH MY GOD IS SHE QUOTING ONE OF HIS OLD COMMENTS FROM HER POSTS LMFAO

user SHES SEEN THE THREAD😭

user this is hilarious, i know he's probably freaking out

yourusername

liked by isackhadjar, danielricciardo and 382,492 others

yourusername miami weekend

view all comments

user i was so happy to see you back in a race😭 we missed u

user the caption is the same as isacks ajskhasjd is she soft launching or just fucking with him ?!?

user need the wag detectives to find out if thats isack on the last slide NOW

user does she know team lh and hadjar fans have come together on twitter to investigate if they're possibly together?

lewishamilton 🖤 liked by author

user okay drama aside, where the hell have you been and why is this your first race appearance in almost three years?

yourusername babes i have a job now🥲

user so you're capable of responding to this comment but not the other ones🤨

yourusername 🤐

isackhadjar

liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda and 292,038 others

isackhadjar thanks twitter for exposing me twice in a row. it really paid off.

view all comments

yukitsunoda there's no way.

user I WANNA KNOW WHAT LEWIS' REACTION WAS

user he actually did it...he has joined the hamilton family...

user this is inspirational af. never give up on the girl of your dreams guys😭😭

user youre telling me she saw him fall flat on his face and thought yeah thats my man🩷

user this actually frying me cause what if they get in a fight then he has to race against her DAD

user are you going to take her last name when you get married?

user when their kids ask how they met they're gonna have to say through instagram comments😊

yukitsunoda how???

liamlawson bro im asking myself the same thing. it might be ai...

isackhadjar ITS NOT ?!? @:yourusername BACK ME UP

yukitsunoda its been thirty minutes and she hasn't responded...mate this isn't looking good for you

isackhadjar SHES LITERALLY RIGHT NEXT TO ME

user the way she liked the photo too but is ignoring his cries for help in the comments😭

yourusername

liked isackhadjar, pepemarti, and 937,184 others

yourusername his boba eyes and obsession with me have captured me

view all comments

user THE LAST PHOTO LMFAO

user hello isack and miss hamilton, i am coming forward to say that i was the one that posted that twitter thread😀 i personally would like an invitation to the wedding

yourusername noted📝

user OMG

user wow she actually makes him look tall

user obsession is definitely the right choice of words

user WAIT I LOVE THIS SM

user he's a lot bolder than i thought, dating his idol's daughter is crazy

user no cause how did he manage to do that😭

isackhadjar @:yukitsunoda @:liamlawson

yukitsunoda it took you five years, don't try to flex right now🙄

user IM DEAD HE CLOCKED HIM

isackhadjar i told you to delete the last photo😣

yourusername YOU LOOK SO CUTE THO

nicorosberg when's he coming over for dinner?

yourusername next weekend??

danielricciardo im coming too

sebastianvettel ill bring the wine

yukitsunoda can i come too and bring liam?

lewishamilton yes! we'll all be there saturday night!

yourusername YAY IM SO EXCITED

isackhadjar hah...me too...

user OH MY GOD ISACK IS PROBABLY SHITTING HIMSELF RN

user y/n and isack being the reason for a brocedes reunion is sending me

user oh to be a fly on the wall for that dinner😔

#isack hadjar x reader #isack hadjar smau #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #isack hadjar x you #isack hadjar imagine #isack hadjar fluff #isack hadjar fic

1K notes · View notes

v6quewrlds · 4 months ago

Text

imagine giving joe a hickey.

author's note⠀⁎⠀requested by @lovelyburrow, some sub!joe undertones (my bad)

Joe was always very selective about PDA. He liked to keep his relationship with you private. It was something sacred to him, not to be shared with the prying eyes of the public or his even teammates. So, when he felt the warmth of your lips on his neck the night before, he didn't think much of it. He had no idea the kisses and nips to his neck would lead him to this.

He entered the hotel conference room, finding Ja'Marr sitting alone as players and coaches began to file in. Sam soon joined them, plopping down next to Joe with an smoothie in hand. The room filled with the low hum of male voices and the occasional burst of laughter as the Bearcats game from that afternoon replayed on the TV screens around the room.

Ja'Marr leaned over, peering at Joe's neck. "Yo, what's that on your neck?" He pointed to his neck, his eyes squinting at the sight before him.

Joe's hand shot up to cover the spot. "What are you talking about?"

"You've got a hickey the size of a quarter, bro," Sam said, his eyes wide as he brought a fist up to cover his mouth, his shoulders shaking with a deep laugh. Ja'Marr's laugh boomed through the room as Joe's eyebrows furrowed, a blush creeping up his neck. He glanced around, hoping no one else had noticed.

"What?" Joe murmured, self-consciously touching the spot.

"Come on, Joe, let's see," Ja'Marr prodded, reaching for his phone to snap a picture.

Joe slapped his hand away, "Fuck no. You're not putting that anywhere," he hissed, his cheeks burning.

Sam leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Looks like someone had a good night."

"Or a good morning," Ja'Marr piped up, still chuckling. "Did your girl sneak in before you came down?"

Joe sighed flipping his camera to selfie mode, dropping his hand, and turning his head to show the offending spot. It was definitely a hickey, a dark, round bruise that stood out against his skin. "No," he muttered, "It's from last night."

Sam leaned in to get a better look. "Damn, she wasn't playing around." He took a sip of his smoothie, pulling back with a smirk when Joe sent him a glare.

Ja'Marr chuckled. "You ain't have to stunt on us like this. Good for you, Joey B."

Joe silently thanked the heavens when Zac stood up at the front of the room, calling for the team's attention. The teasing subsided, but the guys couldn't resist throwing a few more jabs under their breath as they turned their focus to their coach. The meeting dragged on, Joe's thoughts consumed by the unwelcome brand on his neck.

Later that evening, Joe fell back against the crisp hotel sheets. His mind was racing with thoughts of how to cover the hickey before the game tomorrow. He picked up his phone and called you, hoping you would have some kind of ingenious solution. Your face filled the screen, your tired smile brightening at the sight of him.

"Hey, babe," you said, your voice warm and unassuming. "How's the hotel?"

"It's fine," Joe replied, his tone flat. He felt his annoyance rise as he thought about the hickey. "But I've got a problem." He turned his head slightly, showing you the reddish blemish that was beginning to purple around the outer edges.

Your eyes lit up with amusement. "Oh," you giggled. "Is that from last night?"

Joe rolled his eyes. "Yes, it is, and it's not funny."

You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes sparkling. "Well, you never told me to take it easy," you said, your voice teasing. "I got a little carried away. That's not a crime."

Joe felt his own smile tugging at his lips despite his embarrassment. "It's not funny," he said, trying to keep his tone serious, but failing. "What am I gonna do?"

Your laughter subsided, your expression turning thoughtful. "Makeup?" you suggested. "You can get some concealer to cover it up before the game."

"Makeup?" Joe echoed, his disbelief clear. "You want me to wear makeup?"

Your smile grew. "Well, not exactly. You don't have to go full glam. Just a little dab of concealer to even out the skin tone."

Joe groaned, rubbing a hand through his damp hair with a scowl. "Where am I gonna get makeup from? Won't it melt off from the sweat anyway?"

Your eyes danced with amusement. "Well, I guess you gotta own it, Burrow. Maybe it'll be your new good luck charm," you said, leaning closer to the camera to kiss the screen. "From me to you."

Joe couldn't argue with your logic, though the thought of walking onto the field with a glaring hickey didn't sit well with his image. He sighed, nodding. "Alright, I'll figure it out. Thanks for the support," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Anytime," you said, your laughter bubbling up again. "Good luck tomorrow. Love you."

Joe couldn't help but smile back. "Love you too." He ended the call, feeling a bit more at ease despite the looming embarrassment of tomorrow. He decided to take your advice and own the hickey. It was a small price to pay for how down bad he was for you. Plus, he had to admit, the idea of you leaving your mark on him was kind of hot.

His confidence lasted until the next afternoon, when Joe found himself in the locker room, surrounded by his teammates and their knowing glances. He felt like he had a neon sign pointing at his neck. The guys didn't let up, making hushed comments and sharing smirks every time he looked their way. It was clear that the news had spread through the team like wildfire. Joe tried to ignore them, focusing on his preparations for the game. But as he pulled on his jersey, the fabric brushed against the tender spot, a stark reminder of his predicament.

He stepped onto the field for warm-ups, the cool air hitting his bare neck. The stadium lights seemed to highlight the hickey even more. Joe felt his jaw clench and his face grow hot, but he forced a straight face as he threw the ball around. He had a game to play, a job to do, and he wasn't about to let a little thing like a hickey throw him off his game.

By the time he returned home that night, a win tucked under his belt, Joe was exhausted. He was looking forward to cuddling with you and forgetting about the long weekend. But the moment he walked through the door, you were trying to suppress your amusement, your eyes dancing every time you looked at him.

"Okay," Joe sighed, his chest deflating beneath your head as he exhaled deeply. "What are you smiling about?"

You couldn't hold it in any longer, bursting into a fit of giggles. "You looked so grumpy all game," you exclaimed, poking his chest playfully. "You were trending on Twitter again."

Joe groaned, his hand sliding from his neck to his face. "I know," he said, his voice muffled by his palm. "Couldn't believe it when Sam told me."

You sat up, your laughter fading into a gentle smile as you reached over to trace the hickey with your finger. "You looked like a spoiled toddler," you said, your eyes sparkling with affection. "It's kind of cute, you know."

Joe rolled his eyes, his irritation from the day melting away. "Cute is not the word I would've chosen," he muttered, but he couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I can't believe you did this to me. Destroyed my neck like a chew toy."

You leaned in to kiss him, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "Could've stopped me," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. "But you didn't."

Joe chuckled despite his feigned annoyance. "I guess I was a little preoccupied," he admitted, his voice low.

"A little?" you teased, your eyes twinkling. "I think you liked being my chew toy."

Joe's cheeks flushed, and he couldn't help but laugh. "Okay," he conceded. "Maybe a little."

You leaned back, your expression satisfied. "So, you're not mad at me?"

Joe sighed, his annoyance giving way to a fond smile. "Mad? Nah, I can't be mad at you," he said, pulling you closer. "It's just, you know how I feel about PDA. It's all over the internet now."

You shrugged, kissing away his pout. "Well, at least your fangirls know you're taken," you said, planting another kiss on the bruised spot.

Joe grimaced, but couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through him at your touch. "Very funny," he said, his tone laced with affection.

"You have a pretty neck," you whispered playfully, your hand moving to his neck again as your eyes darted over his skin as if examining where you could stake your claim next. "You want another one?"

Joe rolled his eyes but didn't stop you. Your touch was gentle and loving, a welcome contrast from the rough teasing from his teammates. "Just don't make it any bigger," he said, his voice a mix of exasperation and resignation.

#&. joey b.#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut

1K notes · View notes

harrysfolklore · 11 months ago

Note

Can you please do an Instagram blurb with Isabelle Mathers?! 🤍

haters gonna hate - cl16

summary: charles’ new girlfriend gets tons of hate online because she’s a model. their answer? pissing them off even more

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by bellahadid, charles_leclerc and 1,278,544 others

yourinstagram my bf took this 🥵

view all 12,755 comments

ynfan1 SUCH A SLAYYYYYY

ynfan2 girlie when are you going to reveal who the bf is

dualipa MY WIFE 🤤 ♥︎ by author

anokyai Stunning girl ♥︎ by author

ynfan3 i would be absolutely insufferable if i had that face card

ynfan4 she has been soft launching this relationship for months now ughh i need to know who he is

↳ ynfan1 my guess is that it’s something reaaaallyyyyy really famous or like a billionaire lol

zendaya 😍😍 ♥︎ by author

charlesfan1 excuse me why did charles like this pic? 😭

↳ charlesfan2 idk but she needs to stay away we don’t want him near models

↳ charlesfan3 agreed

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 2,147,224 others

charles_leclerc Train, Rest, Eat, Repeat. 🤍

view all 22,462 comments

charlesfan1 OMFGGGGG

charlesfan2 im foaming at the mouth

scuderiaferrari 🙌🌊

charlesfan3 he can’t just post this and dip charles im salivating now

pierregasly can i come?

↳ charles_leclerc No

↳ charlesfan1 HEEELP 😭

charlesfan4 can you believe this man is single ?? like he’s looking like THAT and no one is jumping on his bones

↳ charlesfan2 i would gladly jump on his bones

yourinstagram 🤤🤤🤤 ♥︎ by author

↳ ynfan1 GIRL WE CAN ALL SEE YOU

↳ ynfan2 you have a boyfriend girlie control it

↳ charlesfan1 NO NO GO AWAY

↳ charlesfan2 ew can charles block her ?? we don’t need models seeking attention and thirsting over him

↳ charlesfan3 YIKESSSSS

liked by gigihadid, charles_leclerc and 1,307,466 others

yourinstagram life lately 🌺

view all 13,109 comments

ynfan1 that’s not a face card that’s a face ECONOMY

ynfan2 GIIIRRRRL WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN

bellahadid ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

troyesivan mother is mothering ♥︎ by author

ynfan3 JUST SHOW THE GUY’S FACE FFS

ynfan4 since when is she into f1 😭

ynfan5 THE PUPPY ADORABLE??

charlesfan1 why did charles like her post again why did she get a dog that looks like leo and why does she pretend to watch f1?? WEIRD

↳ charlesfan2 for me it looks like she wants to grab his attention (or the attention of anyone from the grid) typical model behavior 🤢

charlesfan3 guys not what to speak anything into existence bc her dating charles is literally the last thing i want but,, what if?

↳ charlesfan1 nah there’s no way

↳ charlesfan2 literally the last thing we need is charles dating a model just NO

ynfan6 why are motorsport fans so annoying and why are they crying in this comment section about a scenario they created in their heads 😭 ♥︎ by author

liked by yourinstagram, alex_albon and 1,487,012 others

charles_leclerc Miami, feeling at home already

view all 18,426 comments

charlesfan1 BABYYYY

charlesfan2 he should quit racing and just become a model

instagram blessing miami with his presence

charlesfan3 THE HAIR 😩

yourinstagram 😍😍 ♥︎ by author

↳ ynfan1 she’s begging to be dragged by his fans help

↳ charlesfan1 you again ?? annoying

↳ charlesfan2 CHARLES PLEASE BLOCK HER ALREADY

↳ charlesfan3 this is getting embarrassing like charles will never ever notice her and he even has a gf now

↳ charlesfan4 ATTENTION SEEKING BITCH

↳ ynfan2 i can’t wait for them to confirm that they’re dating so his fans can cry even more

liked by charles_leclerc, adrianalima and 1,544,937 others

yourinstagram miami here we go 🏁

view all 16,388 comments

ynfan1 SLAYYYY

ynfan2 SHES GOING TO THE F1 GP OMG

sabrinacarpenter google search how to be you ♥︎ by author

madisonbeer damn 😍😍😍 ♥︎ by author

charlesfan1 stay away !!! no one wants you near charles

charlesfan2 the second picture.. she’s making a fool of herself atp YIKES

charlesfan3 this is why i hate the miami gp influencers are all over the paddock trying to get to the drivers and ruin everything

↳ charlesfan1 and this girlie has been trying to get charles’ attention through her insta posts 💀

ynfan3 i love to see f1 fans cry

scuderiaferrari We can’t wait to see you 👏 ♥︎ by author

↳ charlesfan1 NO GUYS DONT ENCOURAGE THIS

charlesfan4 y’all i think it’s time to face the fact that she’s probably dating charles (which i absolutely hate)

↳ charlesfan2 nope i refuse. charles deserves better than a dumb model who just flexes her looks and seeks attention from the media

↳ ynfan1 girl wtf 😭 a model’s job is literally that and that’s okay, and yn doesn’t need to “seek attention” she’s an A list celebrity already

charlesfan4 CHARLES IS NOT GOING TO FCK YOU !!!

↳ yourbff oh boy do i have a story for you ♥︎ by author, charles_leclerc

↳ ynfan2 CLOCK THEM CLOCK THEM

↳ ynfan3 THIS IS SO MESSY ALSJAI

charles_leclerc I can’t wait 😍 ♥︎ by author

↳ charlesfan1 NO

↳ charlesfan2 CHARLES LOOK AT ME THIS ISNT YOU

↳ ynfan1 im once again showering in motorsport’s fans tears

↳ ynfan2 YALL LOOK EMBARRASSING RIGHT NOW

↳ charlesfan3 charles dating a model… literally worst case scenario

liked by charles_leclerc, kaiagerber and 1,876,503 others

yourinstagram ❤️ @charles_leclerc

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ynfan1 SUCH A FLEXXX

ynfan2 she knows what she's doing i love her

francisca.cgomes 💕 ♥︎ by author

↳ ynfan1 the other WAGs love her charles fans are miserable right now

charlesfan1 GO THE HELL AWAY

charlesfan2 when i'm talentless and want fame so i have to pretend to care about f1

scuderiaferrari We love to see it 👏

↳ charlesfan1 wbk this is a pr strategy FREE CHARL

charlesfan3 the way no one likes her YIKES

↳ ynfan3 your fave driver does !! cry about it !!

iamrebeccad Best company 👯‍♂️ ♥︎ by author

charlesfan4 charles deserves so so so much better than you

charlesfan5 jesus some of you are sooo toxic it's embarrassing

charles_leclerc 😍😍😍 ♥︎ by author

↳ charlesfan1 NO

↳ charlesfan2 BLINK TWICE IF YOU NEED HELP

charles_leclerc Mon cœur ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ ynfan1 his fans can keep whining and bitching, she still wins

↳ charlesfan3 i refuse to believe this is real

liked by georgerussell63, yourinstagram and 1,987,548 others

charles_leclerc Feels good to be back home 🤍

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charlesfan1 NO CHARLES WHY

charlesfan2 i didn’t need or want to see the second and third pic thank you

ynfan1 AHHH HE POSTED HER

arthur_leclerc ❤️

charlesfan3 how are we going to get rid of that bitch i’m so serious

↳ charlesfan1 i hope he cheats on her

charlesfan4 ugly, talentless, money hungry, attention seeker, i could go on @yourinstagram

charlesfan5 can we ignore the bitch and focus on adorable little leo

pierregasly Lovely to see you happy, mate. All the hate comments are just dumb ♥︎ by author, yourinstagram

↳ ynfan2 CLOCK THEM

↳ ynfan3 man his friends are pointing out how stupid his fans look aren’t they embarrased 💀

fracisca.cgomes YN defense squad is here 🫡 ♥︎ by author, yourinstagram, pierregasly

↳ lilymhe I’ve arrived ♥︎ by author, yourinstagram

↳ ynfan1 pretty girls love yn ugly bitches hate her

charlesfan6 why are you so harsh to yn???? it’s getting out of hand

↳ charlesfan1 because shes a model and all models are bitches

↳ ynfan1 are you for real??? just bc her career is modeling doesn’t mean that she’s a bad person or anything, this is such a 2013 mentality

↳ charlesfan2 she’s just not ideal for charles and she’s probably just leeching off his fame and money

↳ ynfan2 news flash: you don’t get to decide what’s ideal for him or not ♥︎ yourinstagram

leclerc_pascale Je vous aime tous les deux ❤️ @charles_leclerc @yourinstagram ♥︎ by author, yourinstagtam

↳ ynfan1 HIS MUMMA SUPPORTS HELP HIS FANS REALLY DO LOOK STUPID

↳ charlesfan1 ffs why can’t anybody see that this “relationship” is a mess

ynfan2 charles’ friends, his friends’ girlfriends and his family are in this comment section defending yn and saying that their relationship is adorable but his fans think that they know better than all of them and charles should break up with yn 😭 peak deluluness ♥︎ by author, yourinstagram

charlesfan7 we will never ever like you btw @yourinstagram

yourinstagram Wow this post really caused some commotion 😂 we’re those bitches, aren’t we baby? @charles_leclerc ♥︎ by author, pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, georgerussell63, lewishamilton, iamrebeccad

↳ ynfan1 HEEEEELPPP

↳ charlesfan1 this bitch and mean girl attitude is exactly why we don’t like her

↳ ynfan2 this is the first time she even reacts to the millions of hate comments yall send her !

↳ charles_leclerc We are 😘

↳ charlesfan6 CLOCK THE WEIRDOS CHARLES

charles_leclerc has added to their stories

TWEETS LIKED BY CHARLES

liked by charles_leclerc, arianagrande and 2,096,118 others

yourinstagram he’s so pretty when he goes down on me

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charles_leclerc I love you ❤️

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halfmoonaria · 3 months ago

Text

he doesn’t know

pairing: sub!tara carpenter & dom!female reader

summary: every sunday, she finds herself in the backseat of your car instead—legs shaking, breath hitching, and trying to keep quiet.

warnings: smut (18+), cheating, secret relationship, oral sex (tara receiving), strap-on sex

author’s note: never done this so tell me if it’s too much.

Tara wasn't ashamed. She never had been.

When she was four, she decided she wanted to wear her fairy costume to preschool—not for Halloween, not for a special event, just because she felt like it.

The glittery wings were bent from being stuffed in the dress-up bin too many times, and the tulle skirt was a little too short after a year-long growth spurt, but she didn't care. It made her feel pretty, so she wore it.

Her mom tried to talk her out of it, and Sam sighed like she was already embarrassed on her behalf, but Tara had been stubborn even then.

She had marched out the door, wings bouncing with every step, and refused to acknowledge the weird looks from other kids.

It was the same when she cut her own bangs in the first grade.

She had gotten bored, found a pair of dull craft scissors, and decided she wanted a change. The result was uneven and way too short, a jagged mess that made her mom gasp when she saw it. Sam winced and tried to smooth it down for her, saying she'd regret it when she looked back at pictures.

Tara just shrugged. It was her hair. If she didn't care, then why should anyone else?

That was how she had always been—bold, impulsive, never second-guessing herself. She wasn't reckless, not really, but she never understood the point of worrying about what people thought.

Her parents didn't know where it came from.

Sam was careful, always weighing her choices, always thinking ahead. She cared about things like reputation, about saying the right thing and making the right impression. She was the responsible one, the one who took after their mom, the one who fit into every expectation placed in front of her.

Tara was different.

She did things because she wanted to, because they felt right in the moment. She never thought too hard about whether she should. And when people questioned her, when they looked at her like she was weird or childish, she never let it get to her.

When she was eight, she declared that she was going to be a superhero for career day, no matter how many times her teacher told her to pick something realistic.

And when she was ten, she ran straight into a fight with a kid twice her size because he made fun of her friend's lisp. She had come home with a bloody nose and a proud grin, and Sam had scolded her the whole time she was pressing an ice pack to her face.

"You don't just fight people, Tara," Sam had said, exasperated. "What if he had really hurt you?"

"He didn't," Tara had replied. "And he won't make fun of her again."

That was what mattered to her—doing what she felt was right, standing by the choices she made, never letting anyone make her feel small.

And shame? That wasn't something she carried.

When other kids went through awkward phases, blushing at old photos or cringing at past decisions, Tara barely blinked. She had no regrets, no embarrassment. She never understood why Sam stressed over things like reputation or what people might whisper behind her back.

Tara didn't let people's opinions shape her. She never had. She was bold, confident, completely sure of herself in a way that most kids weren't.

But that didn't mean she was immune to normal things. Crushes, for example.

Her first celebrity crush had been Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You. She was barely old enough to understand what a crush was, but she knew she liked watching him. He had that effortless charm, that mischievous smile—she figured that was what people meant when they said someone was attractive.

But as she got older, that crush faded.

She expected another one to take its place. That's how it worked, right? You grew up, your tastes changed, you found someone new to fawn over.

Except... she didn't.

At least, not the way she was supposed to.

Because when she rewatched the movie, waiting for that familiar feeling to settle in at the sight of Heath's smirk, it never came. Instead, she felt something entirely different—something she didn't understand—when Julia Stiles appeared on screen.

It wasn't just that she admired her. It wasn't just that she thought she was cool. It was the way her stomach flipped at the sharpness of her voice, the confidence in her posture. It was the way she suddenly found herself hyper-fixated on the little things—her smirk, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the sharp glint in her eyes when she delivered a cutting remark.

And it wasn't just her.

It was the girl in her chemistry class with the pretty hands. The soccer captain who always had her hair in a messy bun. The stranger she saw at the mall, dressed in a leather jacket and looking effortlessly cool.

But she didn't get it.

Because that wasn't supposed to happen.

She had always been confident in who she was. She never questioned herself, never second-guessed her choices. But this? This threw her off. It didn't fit into the version of herself she had always known.

So, for the first time in her life, she did the one thing she never thought she would.

She ignored it.

At least, she tried to.

But it was impossible to ignore something that followed her everywhere. Her eyes drifted—unintentionally at first, but then with growing awareness. The girls in her classes, the ones at the mall, the cashier at the grocery store. It wasn't just about noticing them, either. It was the way her stomach tensed when a girl laughed in that soft, pretty way, or the heat that crept up her neck when one of them brushed past her too closely.

And then there were the movies.

She used to argue hard whenever Mindy and Annika suggested a rom-com over a horror flick. But lately? She still huffed, still acted annoyed, but the protests weren't as strong as before. And when a sex scene came on, she didn't roll her eyes or fake gag anymore.

Because the problem was, she was watching.

Not the man. Never the man.

Her focus lingered elsewhere—on the curves of a woman's body, the softness of her skin, the way her lips parted on a moan. Tara didn't mean to stare, didn't mean to feel anything, but she did.

And that terrified her more than any horror movie ever could.

Not because she thought it was wrong. Tara hadn't grown up in a religious household, where being gay was condemned, or in a place where she'd been taught to believe it was unnatural. Her family never gave her any reason to think she couldn't be whoever she wanted, love whoever she wanted.

She had lesbian friends, gay friends. Mindy was out and proud, never hesitating to call a girl hot in the middle of a conversation. No one ever looked twice. It was normal. Accepted. Fine.

So why didn't it feel fine for her?

She knew it wasn't wrong—she wasn't stupid. She'd never side-eyed anyone for being into girls, never thought twice when someone came out. But somehow, when it was her—when the label curled around her throat and squeezed—it felt different.

Tara had spent her whole life knowing exactly who she was. She had never been unsure. She was bold. Confident. Unapologetic. She cut her own bangs with safety scissors when she was six and shrugged when Sam gasped at the mess she made.

She wore her Halloween costume from last year to school in the middle of March because she liked it. When she made a decision, she stuck to it, never second-guessed herself, never hesitated.

But this? This wasn't something she chose.

It crept up on her, slithered into her brain like an unwanted thought, a splinter she couldn't pull out. And it was infuriating, because she had never questioned herself before—never felt like she had to.

And yet, here she was.

Staring too long at girls in her classes, feeling her chest go tight when a woman laughed a certain way, blinking too fast at the TV whenever a female character undressed.

This wasn't supposed to happen to her.

It was okay for other people to be gay. She never questioned that. It was fine, normal, good for them. But when she looked at herself, at the thought of admitting it, of saying it out loud—it felt impossible. Like it didn't belong to her. Like the rules were different for her, even though she knew, logically, they weren't.

Maybe that was what scared her the most.

That for the first time in her life, she wasn't sure of herself.

That for the first time in her life, she felt ashamed.

She hated it. Hated how it made her feel like a stranger in her own skin, like she had something to hide when she had never hidden anything in her life.

And the worst part? Mindy was starting to notice.

Or maybe she wasn't. Maybe she was just being Mindy, teasing for the sake of getting a rise out of her like she always did. But Tara felt exposed all the same, like she was standing in the middle of a room with a spotlight on her, like any second now someone would call her out and she wouldn't have a damn thing to say in return.

It started small.

It started with little things. A smirk when a pretty girl passed by. A knowing look when Tara stumbled over her words around someone attractive. A casual, So, you got a thing for brunettes now? when Tara glanced at someone for half a second too long.

It was nothing. Just jokes. But every time, Tara felt a spike of panic she couldn't shake.

Because she wasn't used to this—this hesitation, this awareness of herself. Normally, if someone called her out on something, she'd just own it. Shrug it off. Yeah, so what? But now, the idea of admitting anything made her stomach twist.

She could play it off, roll her eyes, throw a sarcastic comment back. But Mindy wasn't stupid. And she wasn't letting it go.

One night, they were walking back from a party when Mindy casually nudged her side and said, You totally froze up when that girl talked to you.

Tara scoffed, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets. I did not.

You did. And you were blushing.

I don't blush.

Mindy had just grinned, like she had already made up her mind. Uh-huh. Sure.

Tara had let it go, pretended it didn't bother her. But later, alone in her room, she caught herself replaying the interaction in her head, her chest tightening with frustration.

Why did she care so much?

Why did it matter what Mindy thought?

Maybe because deep down, she wasn't entirely sure Mindy was wrong.

And if Mindy could see it, then who else could?

That was what scared her the most. Because Mindy wasn't wrong. That was the worst part.

And whenever Mindy made comments about it, Tara would scoff, roll her eyes, shove her shoulder, mutter something about reaching—

But every time, her pulse would quicken, her ears would burn, and she'd feel the panic rise in her chest like a tidal wave.

It wasn't just the waitress at the diner, the one with the dimples and the low-cut uniform. It wasn't just the girl in her sociology class, the one with the raspy voice who always showed up with a cold brew and a half-smirk. It was everywhere.

At the gym, when she caught herself watching the way a girl tied up her ponytail, the smooth shift of her muscles.

At the grocery store, when she found herself staring just a little too long at the woman reaching for something on the top shelf, her shirt lifting just enough to reveal a sliver of her stomach.

At movie night, when she no longer protested the romance movies Mindy and Anika picked—because she didn't mind watching them anymore.

That was the real problem. Because she still hated the cheesy dialogue and the unrealistic plotlines, but whenever there was a sex scene, whenever a woman undressed, Tara wasn't looking away.

She didn't want to.

And that terrified her.

Because it wasn't just a thought anymore, wasn't just something lurking in the back of her mind that she could ignore. It was becoming real, something she couldn't control. She started feeling like people could see it—like it was written all over her, like she had a neon sign above her head flashing Tara Carpenter likes girls.

And maybe nobody actually noticed. Maybe nobody gave a damn. But it didn't matter because she felt exposed anyway, like someone could call her out at any second. Like Mindy's teasing wasn't just teasing anymore—like it was an accusation.

It was in the way people looked at her, in the way her own skin felt too tight, too obvious. She started overthinking every little thing—how long she looked at a girl, whether she was staring, whether her voice sounded different when she spoke to someone pretty. Whether she was acting different.

And the worst part was that she didn't even know if she was right. She didn't know if people actually saw something in her that she hadn't seen before, or if she was just losing her mind over nothing. But it didn't matter. The fear was there, real and suffocating, and it was eating her alive.

So she did the only thing she could think to do.

She got a boyfriend.

Or, more accurately, she asked Chad out.

It wasn't some grand realization. It wasn't even a well-thought-out decision. It was desperation. Panic. Like a reflex, like slamming the brakes at the last second before a crash.

And Chad just happened to be there.

And in a way, it made sense. She'd known him forever. Before high school, before college, before parties and liquor and sneaking out when Sam wasn't looking. He was familiar. Safe. He liked her. Everyone knew that.

Ever since sixth grade, people had whispered about it. Girls in their class used to giggle and nudge each other whenever Chad so much as looked at her. It was obvious.

He was the guy who always found excuses to talk to her, who laughed a little too hard at her jokes, who got weirdly competitive when she dated someone else, even when there was no reason to be.

So when she asked him out, there was no hesitation.

He said yes before she even finished the sentence.

And that was supposed to be it.

She had a boyfriend now. That was supposed to fix everything.

It was supposed to make things go away—the butterflies in her stomach, the heat crawling up her neck whenever a girl smiled at her, the way she noticed things she wasn't supposed to notice.

It was supposed to make Mindy shut up.

It was supposed to be easy.

But it wasn't.

If anything, it only got worse.

At first, she told herself it was working. That it was fine. She had a boyfriend. She was in a relationship. If people had questions before, they wouldn't anymore.

And it wasn't like she hated Chad. He was sweet. Affectionate. A little too eager sometimes, but that wasn't new. And for a while, she let herself believe that this was how it was supposed to be.

But then he kissed her.

And it wasn't bad. There was nothing wrong with it. His lips were soft, his hands were warm, he knew what he was doing. But for some reason, Tara felt wrong.

Like she was trying to force something that wasn't there.

And maybe that would've been fine if it was just the kissing. If it stopped at making out on his couch, at him pulling her into his lap at parties, at his arm draped lazily around her shoulders.

But it didn't stop.

And that was when the real problem started.

Because the first time they had sex, she didn't feel relieved.

She felt nothing.

No spark, no excitement, no rush of pleasure or warmth curling through her stomach. Just the uncomfortable realization that she was waiting for it to feel like something more.

And it never did.

She knew what sex was supposed to feel like—what it was supposed to do to her. But with Chad, it was just... there. Mechanical. Predictable. And all she could think about was whether it would be different if it were a woman.

Would a woman's lips feel softer than Chad's? Would her moans be louder? Would Tara's own moans sound different—less forced, less careful—if she wasn't holding back, if she actually wanted it?

Would the right spots be hit without her having to guide him there?

Would she ache for it the way she was supposed to?

She didn't know.

But she wanted to.

And THAT was the worst part. Because she wasn't supposed to be thinking about this. She wasn't supposed to be comparing. But every time Chad touched her, every time his hands slipped under her shirt, every time he pressed her into the mattress and murmured her name against her skin, she found herself wondering.

Would it feel better?

Would it feel right?

And once that thought was in her head, it wouldn't leave.

No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she wanted to be normal, it wasn't working.

And with every day that passed, she started to realize—maybe it never would.

That thought alone should have terrified her. Should have made her try harder to make things with Chad work, to prove to herself that this was just a phase, a weird glitch in her brain that she could push through.

But instead, it just made her angry.

Because she had done everything RIGHT. She had played by the rules, followed the script, done exactly what she was supposed to do. And yet, here she was, stuck in her own damn head, questioning things she shouldn’t be questioning.

And it didn't help that you existed.

You weren't someone that necessarily stood out in a crowd—not in the way Mindy did, always loud, always on, impossible to ignore. But Tara knew you.

Everybody did.

Because you weren't just out, you were openly out. Unapologetically. The kind of gay that didn't need to be announced because it was just there. The way you dressed, the way you carried yourself, the way you talked about girls without ever hesitating.

Mindy was the same way, sure, but Mindy was Mindy. She had always been that way—loud, cocky, the self-proclaimed expert on all things queer.

But you? You weren't loud. You weren't in people's faces about it. You just were. And for some reason, that made it so much worse.

Because it meant Tara couldn't ignore you.

And she had tried.

God, had she tried.

But no matter what, her eyes always seemed to find you at parties, leaning against a wall with a drink in hand, laughing at something someone said. Or in class, when you stretched in your seat, the hem of your shirt riding up just a little. Or when you passed by in the hall, chatting with Anika about some girl you had hooked up with the weekend before.

It made Tara's stomach twist in ways she didn't understand.

Because she wasn't jealous. Not really.

So then why did she care?

Why did it bother her so much?

Why did she hate how easy it seemed for you? How you never hesitated, never stumbled over your words, never had to second-guess every single thing you felt?

Maybe that's why she had looked at you that night at the party.

Maybe that's why she had kept looking.

And maybe that's why, when she finally realized you had caught her, she couldn't bring herself to look away.

The party had been the same as every other frat party—loud, overcrowded, the air thick with cheap beer and sweat and the distant scent of weed. The living room was packed, music shaking the walls, bodies pressed together, some dancing, some just using it as an excuse to grope each other. The kitchen was worse, sticky floors and an overworked fridge stuffed with liquor bottles, people shouting over each other as they took shots, beer pong cups scattered across every available surface.

It wasn't Tara's scene. Not really. But Mindy had dragged her out, Anika too, and after a couple of drinks, the haze had settled in just enough to make it bearable.

And then she had seen you.

She hadn't even known you were going to be there. But one second, she was standing near the edge of the living room, half-listening to some guy rant about his business major, and the next, her eyes had locked onto you—and everything else just faded into background noise.

Because you weren't just there.

You were hot.

Tara had always known you were attractive in the way someone KNOWS things without really thinking about it. She had eyes. She wasn't blind. But that night, it hit her. It knocked the air from her lungs, settled thick and heavy in the pit of her stomach, made her pulse in places she shouldn't have been thinking about.

The alcohol made it worse.

She should've been angry—angry that you were here, that you were making her feel things she didn't want to feel. But she wasn't.

She was just staring.

Her grip tightened around her cup, her lips parted slightly as she took you in—your outfit, the way it hugged your body in all the right places, the effortless confidence in the way you carried yourself.

You weren't wearing something basic, like a black cat or a schoolgirl outfit. No, you were dressed as something that exuded confidence, something cocky—mafia boss style, but with a spin that made it impossible to ignore.

A fitted black blazer, tailored to perfection, cinched at the waist with a sleek belt. Underneath, a deep-cut silk blouse, the first few buttons undone just enough to tease, the fabric clinging to your frame in a way that made it hard not to look.

The skirt was short—really short—hugging your hips before stopping dangerously high on your thighs, paired with sheer black stockings that ran smooth down to your heels.

A fake cigar rested between your fingers, just for the effect, and a thin gold chain sat against your collarbone, glinting under the dim party lights. The whole look screamed power, control— trouble.

Tara's body reacted before her brain could catch up.

Her stomach tightened. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, and she felt a rush of heat spread through her—low and needy and completely out of her control.

Because you weren't even trying. You weren't flirting with her, weren't giving her any special attention. You were just existing—laughing with your friends, a drink in hand, head tilting back slightly as you said something that made them all grin.

And yet, Tara felt like she was the one being hunted.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't normal.

And the second you turned your head, the second your eyes met hers, the smirk that tugged at your lips was enough to make her stomach drop.

Because Tara had never expected you to actually notice her.

She had been staring, sure—longer than she should have, more obviously than she meant to. But the idea of you catching her? The idea of you actually seeing her? That hadn't even crossed her mind.

She was frozen for a second, unsure if she should look away, pretend she hadn’t been blatantly checking you out.

But before she could decide, you were already moving—pushing off the counter with an effortless kind of confidence, weaving through the crowd like you had all the time in the world.

And you didn't hesitate. Didn't stop. Walked straight up to her like you had known her for years, like there was no question about it, like this was something that had always been meant to happen.

For a second, she thought you were going to say something cocky. Something teasing, something about the way she had been looking at you, something that would make her panic spike even higher.

Instead, you had just said her name.

Like it was obvious. Like of course you knew who she was.

Tara didn't even remember what she had said back, because her mind had been caught on you. On the way you leaned in a little when you talked, the way you smelled like expensive perfume and vodka, the way the room was too loud but she could still hear you.

And the worst part? She could barely even keep her gaze up.

Her eyes kept drifting—down to the smooth skin of your collarbone, the gold chain resting against it. Lower, to where your silk blouse was open just enough to show a teasing amount of cleavage.

She had snapped her gaze back up quickly, hoping you hadn't noticed.

You had.

After that, she didn't remember much. At least, not in detail.

She remembered you handing her another drink, remembered the feeling of your fingers brushing hers. She remembered how your lips looked around the rim of your glass, how you licked a drop of alcohol off your bottom lip without thinking. She remembered how close you stood, how the warmth of your body practically wrapped around hers, even though you weren't touching.

And she remembered that the second she was with you, she stopped thinking about HIM.

Chad was somewhere—probably off doing some stupid drinking challenge with his teammates, yelling over a game of beer pong, flexing or showing off or whatever the hell he and his sport-obsessed friends did. But the important thing was that he wasn't here.

And Tara didn’t care.

He didn't cross her mind once. Not when you leaned in to say something against her ear, your breath warm against her skin. Not when you laughed at something she said and touched her arm, your fingers grazing her through the sleeve of her jacket. Not when your eyes flicked down to her lips and back up again, slow, deliberate.

And definitely not when she found herself tilting her head, when the alcohol made her bold enough to not overthink, when she kissed you before she could stop herself.

That part was hazy.

All she knew was that one second, you were standing close, and the next, her lips were on yours. And she didn't regret it. Not even a little.

She didn't know who pulled who. Didn't know how it had escalated so quickly. All she knew was that at some point, your fingers curled around her wrist, and she let you guide her through the crowd, past the bodies pressed together, past the couples making out in dark corners, past the booming music.

And then you were in a bedroom.

And that was where everything really started.

Tara barely remembered how you got there. One moment, the party had been a blur of flashing lights and pounding music, the heat of bodies pressing in on her from all sides.

And then, suddenly, it was just you. Just the two of you, the noise of the party fading behind a closed door, leaving nothing but the sound of her own breathing and the pounding of her pulse.

Fuck.

She should have hesitated. She should have thought about Chad. But she didn't.

Not when you were this close, your scent filling her nose—something dark and sweet, like vanilla and smoke. Not when your fingers brushed her wrist, sending a spark up her arm. Not when your gaze flickered down to her mouth like you already knew exactly what she wanted.

And then your lips were on hers, and—fuck.

It wasn't like kissing Chad. With him, it had always been easy, predictable. She knew what to expect, what it would feel like. But this? This was something else entirely. Your lips were softer, but the way you kissed her was anything but. You didn't just kiss—you took. You grabbed her, pulled her into you, kissed her like you owned her.

Tara barely even noticed when her back hit the door. Not when your hands slid beneath her top, fingers ghosting over her ribs, dragging up her sides. Not when your knee pressed between her thighs, making her suck in a sharp breath.

She had never felt like this before.

With Chad, she had always been able to keep a part of herself detached. But with you? There was no thinking. No overanalyzing. Just the sharp, intoxicating press of your body against hers, the way your mouth trailed down her jaw, her neck, biting just hard enough to make her gasp.

Her hands moved on their own, slipping beneath your blazer, pushing it off your shoulders. She barely had time to register the sound of it hitting the floor before her fingers were on the buttons of your shirt, fumbling as she pulled it open.

And then she saw you.

The smooth curve of your shoulders, the way the dim lighting cast shadows along your stomach. The black lace of your bra, barely covering your chest. She couldn't stop staring. Couldn't stop wanting.

You grinned like you knew exactly what was going through her mind, and then your hands were on her thighs, gripping tight as you lifted her onto the dresser. Her legs parted without hesitation, wrapping around your waist as your lips crashed back against hers.

Tara didn't remember how her top came off, only that suddenly she was half-naked, her back pressed against the mirror, your hands roaming her body like you needed to touch every inch of her.

And then you were lowering yourself, trailing kisses down her chest, over her stomach, sinking to your knees between her thighs.

Her breath hitched.

Chad had never done this.

And when your mouth pressed against her, when your tongue flicked against her in a way that made her spine arch—

She knew.

This was what she had been craving all along.

And Tara still remembered it.

It wasn't just that it had felt good—it was the way it had felt right. The way her body had reacted to every touch, every flick of your tongue, every bite, every fucking thing you did to her like she had been waiting for it her whole life without even knowing.

She had never felt euphoric before. Never felt her limbs go weak, her head go light, her stomach twist with something dangerously close to desperation. But that night, with your hands gripping her thighs, your mouth between them, your voice murmuring something low and filthy against her skin—it was like a switch had flipped.

With Chad, it had always been just...fine. Nice, in the way that it was supposed to be.

He touched her the way a boyfriend should.

He kissed her the way a boyfriend should.

He made sure she was taken care of, in the way that a boyfriend should.

And Tara had always figured that was enough.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

It was the way you didn't just kiss her—you devoured her. Like she was something to be tasted, something to be enjoyed. It was the way your hands gripped her like you needed her closer, the way your nails dragged over her thighs, the way your tongue moved like you knew exactly how to make her fall apart.

And fuck, did she fall apart.

She had never been this loud before. She had never shaken like this, never clutched at the sheets, never let her head fall back, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut as you pulled every single sound out of her like you owned them.

And you did.

Because it wasn't just what you were doing—it was the way you did it. The way you looked up at her with those fucking eyes, the way you didn't stop, not even when she swore she couldn't take any more, not even when her legs trembled around your shoulders.

And when she finally did come apart, gasping your name, head thrown back, body arching, back hitting the mirror so hard she thought it might crack—she had never felt something like that before.

She knew it was wrong.

She should have felt guilty. She should have felt sick to her stomach, ashamed, horrified at what she had just done. She had Chad—sweet, loyal Chad—waiting for her somewhere downstairs, probably wondering where she had disappeared to. She had a boyfriend, and she had just—

But it didn't feel wrong.

It should have. God, it should have. She should have been scrambling for her clothes, should have been choking on regret, should have been thinking of ways to explain it away. But instead, all she could feel was the aftershocks still pulsing through her body, the ghost of your hands on her skin, the warm, lazy hum in her limbs.

It didn't feel like a mistake.

It didn't feel like something to regret.

It felt like something she had needed.

But she should have pushed you away.

She should have looked at you with disgust, should have spat out some excuse about being drunk, about making a mistake, about how this wasn’t her, about how this couldn’t happen again.

But she didn't.

Because it didn't feel like a mistake.

And when you moved closer, when your fingers trailed lazily over her bare skin, when your lips brushed against her neck as if you were inviting her to take more—to take everything—Tara didn't pull away.

Instead, before she could even think, before she could stop herself, she heard herself asking if you could do this again sometime.

The words had slipped out so easily, like she had been waiting to say them, like they had been sitting on the tip of her tongue for months, just waiting for the chance to be spoken.

And when you smirked, when you leaned in and murmured something she could barely register through the haze in her head, when your lips brushed over hers one last time before pulling away—Tara knew.

She wasn't going to stop.

She couldn’t stop.

Because no matter how wrong it was, no matter how much she should have felt guilty—she wanted it. And that was the worst part.

Or maybe the worst part was that it happened again.

She should have known it would.

Because the moment she walked out of that frat house, the moment she left you behind in that bedroom, she couldn't stop thinking about you. About what had happened. About how fucking good it had felt.

She should have felt guilty.

She should have gone home, called Chad, done something to make this feel like a mistake. But instead, she laid in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, body still humming, hands gripping the sheets because she couldn't fucking sleep—because she wanted more.

And then, a few days later, she got a text.

meet me in ten.

No context. No explanation. Just an address and a ticking clock.

She shouldn't have gone.

But she did.

She told herself she wasn't going for that, that she just wanted to see what you had to say, that she just wanted to—fuck, she didn't know. But she found herself getting in her car anyway, her hands tightening around the wheel the closer she got.

The address you had sent led her to an empty parking lot just outside of town, the kind of place people went when they didn't want to be seen. Your car was parked in the farthest corner, backed up against a row of trees, tinted windows hiding whatever happened inside.

It was the perfect spot.

And Tara knew exactly why you had picked it.

Her heart was pounding when she parked beside you. Her body was already warm, already tingling with anticipation as she climbed into your passenger seat.

And the second you looked at her—smirking like you knew she had been thinking about this all fucking week—she realized she had been waiting for this to happen again.

That was how it started.

One meeting turned into two.

Two turned into three.

And then, before she even knew how it had happened, it became a routine.

Every Sunday.

A text. A location. Your car parked somewhere no one would find you. And then hands on skin, lips crashing together, nails dragging, teeth biting, clothes being pushed aside because neither of you ever had the patience to take them off completely.

She knew it was fucked up.

She knew it was wrong.

But that didn't stop her from showing up every damn week.

And the worst part wasn't that she was lying.

It was how she was lying.

Because of all the excuses she could have used—homework, hangouts with Mindy, anything that actually made sense—the one she found herself using the most was that she was going to church.

Fucking church.

She didn't even believe in anything. Had never been the type to sit through a sermon, had never even entertained the idea of faith, and yet—somehow—Chad never questioned it.

Maybe it was because he was just that gullible. Maybe it was because he wasn't used to suspecting her of anything. Or maybe it was because, despite knowing her for over a year, he didn't know her as well as he thought he did.

Either way, every Sunday when she told him she couldn't hang out, when she said she had to go to mass, when she put on some half-assed ugh my mom’s making me go tone, he just accepted it.

Told her to have fun.

Asked her what the sermon was about later.

And Tara had to sit there, staring at her phone, trying to come up with some bullshit answer while still catching her breath.

Because she hadn't been in church.

She hadn't been in church.

She hadn't been praying.

She had been on her knees, mouth wrapped around your cocky little smirk, hands digging into your thighs. She had been moaning a name that wasn't his, head thrown back against the seat, panting like she had just run a marathon.

She had been gripping the leather interior with trembling fingers, legs wrapped around your head with the strength of metal bars, back arching so hard she thought she might snap in two.

And Chad had gone about his Sunday completely clueless.

___

"Fuck." Tara moaned, breath hitching, nails digging into your back as her head hit the window.

Like every other Sunday.

The windows were fogged up, streaked with condensation, the air inside thick with heat and the sharp scent of sweat.

The car rocked slightly with every movement, the backseat cramped but familiar, the leather sticking to her skin. It had been like this every time—fast, desperate, no hesitation.

You'd barely gotten inside before she was pulling you to the back, mouths crashing together, hands tugging at clothes, both of you too impatient to take your time.

Now, she was spread out beneath you, thighs trembling against your shoulders, fingers tangled in your hair as your tongue worked her over like you had all the time in the world.

Her skirt pushed up, undergarments long forgotten, her shirt still halfway on, bunched up under her ribs from when you'd shoved it out of the way. The feeling of your mouth on her was enough to send her spiraling, but it was the way you held her there—firm, unrelenting, like you had no plans of stopping anytime soon—that made her body shake with every flick of your tongue.

She could hear herself, the obscene wet sounds mixing with her ragged breaths, the moans she couldn't hold back no matter how hard she bit her lip. She had never sounded like this before, not with Chad, not with anyone.

It was a different kind of pleasure—overwhelming, raw, like her entire body was caught in a storm she couldn't control. Every Sunday, it was the same. You had her unraveling, melting under your touch, forgetting everything except the way you made her feel.

She didn't even realize she was grinding against your face until your grip tightened on her thighs, holding her still as you sucked at her clit just right. Her back arched, a sharp cry spilling from her lips, her mind blanking completely. Fuck. She was close. Already. Again. It was always like this with you.

And Chad had no idea.

Tara's head tilted back, lips parting, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. "Oh my—fuck, just like that—" Her voice broke around the words, half a moan, half a plea.

She could barely think, her mind slipping into static, body tightening under your touch. Every drag of your tongue sent another pulse of pleasure through her, her hands fisting the fabric of your jacket like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

The air was thick, heavy, carrying the sound of her moans, the quiet creak of the leather beneath her, the wet, obscene noises of your mouth working her over.

It should've been embarrassing—the way she was falling apart so quickly, the way she could already feel the heat coiling in her stomach, twisting tighter and tighter—but it wasn't. Not with you.

Your grip on her thighs tightened as you hummed against her, and Tara nearly lost it. A broken cry ripped from her throat, her body jerking, hips bucking up against your face. "Oh, shit—" Her fingers scrambled for something to hold onto, one slipping into your hair, gripping tight. "Don't stop—don't—"

Like you ever would.

She felt the way you smirked against her, cocky as ever, before your tongue flicked over her clit in slow, deliberate strokes that had her whimpering, her legs shaking. "Jesus, you're so—fuck." Her voice was wrecked, raw, words tumbling out before she could stop them.

She wanted to say something more—something coherent—but the way you sucked at her clit, the way your nails dug into her hips, the way she could already feel herself spiraling again—

She was gone.

Tara came with a strangled moan, her whole body tensing, back arching, thighs tightening around your head like she never wanted to let go. Her hands gripped your hair, pulling, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her breathless, trembling. Her head lolled back against the window, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted as she tried to catch her breath.

And then she felt it—your hands smoothing over her thighs, your mouth pulling away, your breath warm against her skin. She forced her eyes open, still hazy, only to be met with your gaze—dark, intense, that fucking smirk tugging at your lips. Like you knew exactly what you'd just done to her.

But you weren't judging.

You just watched her, taking in the way she was still trying to recover, the way her chest rose and fell, the way her skin was flushed. Then, slowly, you dragged your hands down her legs, prying them from where they were still locked around you, letting them fall slack against the leather seat.

"So," you mused, voice low, teasing. "What excuse did you use this time?"

Tara bit her lip, still catching her breath, her fingers twitching against the seat as she let out a shaky little laugh. "Would you believe me if I said shopping?"

You raised an eyebrow, amused.

Shopping. That had been the excuse this time. And for a moment, Chad had actually questioned it—had cocked his head, confused, when she told him she was heading out alone. Shopping wasn't really her thing, at least not solo. But then he just shrugged, distracted by something on his phone, and that was that. No suspicion, no follow-up questions.

Tara had almost felt guilty for how easy it was. Almost.

She should have felt guilty now, too—sitting there, legs still weak, skin still flushed, while you smirked at her like you knew exactly how ruined she was.

But the moment she saw you shift, reaching for your bag, zipping it open with a deliberate slowness, guilt was the last thing on her mind.

"Well," you murmured, pulling something from inside, "I've done some shopping."

Tara's breath caught when she saw what it was.

A strap.

It was sleek, black, and bigger than Chad's actual one—noticeably so.

Tara swallowed. You and she had talked about this before. The first time you brought it up, she had barely hesitated before agreeing, because she had been sure—certain—that the whole P in V thing would be different with you. Better. More enjoyable. And after everything else you'd done to her, she had no doubt about that.

Still, she found herself shifting in place, heart picking up, torn between excitement and nerves. She hadn't done this with you before. Hadn't done this with any girl before. But fuck—just the sight of it, the thought of it, had heat curling low in her stomach all over again.

Tara gulped, eyes locked on the strap, but her mind was already ahead—already picturing it all before it even happened. How it would feel. How you would feel.

You didn't move yet. Just scanned her face, like you were waiting for some hesitation, some sign that she would be scared off. But she wasn't. She couldn't be.

Your smirk deepened, head tilting just slightly, the unspoken question clear in your eyes—want to?

Tara nodded. Too fast. Too desperate. She knew that. But she did.

So she moved without thinking, shifting onto all fours, her knees pressing into the worn leather of the backseat. Her back arched slightly, her hands splayed out in front of her as she tried to steady herself, breathing uneven.

Behind her, she could hear you—hear the rustle of fabric, the soft sound of buckles being adjusted, the quiet exhale you let out as you fit the strap into place. Then the warmth of your hand running down her back, over her hips, fingers brushing between her thighs before you paused.

Her stomach tensed at the thought. At the thought.

She swallowed hard, her fingers curling into fists where they rested against the seat. Then your hands were on her again—trailing down her spine, over the curve of her hips, fingertips brushing against her thighs, teasing her. She shuddered at the touch, hips rolling back instinctively, already seeking more.

You let out a quiet chuckle, low and teasing, before pressing yourself against her, letting her feel the weight of it. She sucked in a breath, her entire body tightening at the sensation alone.

You asked if she was ready.

She barely managed to whisper yes before you pushed in.

Her mouth fell open, a sharp, broken sound leaving her as her body stretched around you. Her arms nearly gave out beneath her, and her head dropped forward, forehead pressing against the window.

It was almost like the pleasure rushed straight to her eyes, like it was so intense she couldn't even see for a moment—just a wave of heat, of pressure, of something she had never felt before.

The first thrust was slow, teasing, like you were letting her feel every inch of it before pulling back just as carefully. Even that had her sucking in a sharp breath, fingers twitching against the seat beneath her.

The stretch, the fullness—it was overwhelming in a way she hadn't expected. It was nothing like before. It was so much more. And when you did it again, thrusting just a little deeper, just a little harder, a gasp tore from her lips.

You didn't stop. Your hips snapped forward again, finding a rhythm that was steady but deep, every push forcing her further into the seat. The car rocked just slightly with each movement, the damp heat of the space making every sensation ten times more intense. The sounds of it—of skin meeting skin, of wet, filthy noises between her legs—filled her ears, mixed with the ragged breaths leaving both of you.

And the moans.

Tara bit her lip, trying to quiet herself, but it was impossible. A moan ripped from her throat as you hit a spot that made her whole body jolt, the muscles in her stomach tensing. Her head tipped forward, forehead pressing harder into the window, fogging it up even more. It was getting harder to hold herself up, her arms already trembling from the effort of staying up on all fours, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Not when you sounded like that.

The breathy little grunts leaving your lips—low and raspy, like you were getting just as lost in it as she was—made something coil tight in her stomach. She wished she could see you. She tried to picture your face behind her, how your brows must've been furrowed, how your mouth was probably open, panting, the way your jaw clenched every time she clenched around you.

"Jesus—" The word came out of her before she could stop it, breathless and desperate, her voice shaking. She felt you smirk against her back, your lips ghosting over her spine before nipping at her shoulder, sending a shiver down her body.

"What's wrong, baby?" you murmured, voice dripping with amusement.

Tara's breath hitched.

It wasn't just what you said. It was how you said it—so low, so full of amusement, like you knew exactly what you were doing to her, like you loved watching her fall apart beneath you. And baby. Fuck, she hadn't expected that. The way it sounded coming from your mouth—rough, teasing, possessive—sent heat surging through her body.

She whimpered, fingers clawing at the seat. Her hips rolled back against you, desperate, wordlessly begging for more.

Then.

A buzzing cut through the thick air, sharp and insistent, demanding attention.

Tara barely registered it at first, still too caught up in the aftershocks of everything—her heavy breathing, the way her body still pulsed around you, the lingering heat of your hands gripping her hips. But then you stopped moving, and her moan died in her throat, leaving only the sound of her own ragged breaths and that damn vibration filling the car.

Then she turned her head slightly, trying to glance back at you.

You didn't look worried. Not even a little. If anything, you looked amused. Your eyes gleamed with something dark, something teasing, as you tilted your head toward the phone in a silent suggestion. Check it.

Tara swallowed. Her whole body felt hot, sweat sticking to her skin, thighs still twitching around you. The last thing she wanted to do was answer her phone right now, but the vibrating didn't stop. Whoever it was, they weren't giving up.

She exhaled sharply, adjusting her weight on her knees before reaching forward, stretching as far as she could without moving off of you. It wasn't easy. Her back arched deeper, pushing her against you even more, making her even more aware of where you still were, thick and unmoving inside her.

She tried to keep quiet, to focus, but the angle sent a wave of pressure through her core, and a quiet, breathy moan slipped out before she could stop it.

She clenched her jaw, swallowing hard, and finally grasped the phone. Her fingers were slick with sweat, struggling to get a grip as she flipped it over in her palm. She held it tightly, worried it might slip right out of her hand with how weak she felt.

Her breath was uneven as she turned the screen over, eyes flicking to the caller ID.

Her stomach dropped.

Chad.

Tara's grip on the phone tightened as she stared at Chad's name on the screen, her pulse hammering against her ribs.

Her first thought was that she couldn't possibly answer. There was no way. Not like this—shaky, breathless, body still stretched and filled, the heat of you pressing against her skin. She wasn't even sure if she could form a coherent sentence right now, let alone talk to Chad without him immediately knowing something was off.

Slowly, as if in a daze, she tilted the phone just slightly so you could see.

Your gaze flicked down, taking in the name without any hint of concern, and Tara swore she saw the corner of your mouth twitch up like you were actually enjoying this. Like it amused you how completely fucked she was in this moment.

She gulped, feeling her breath hitch, fingers twitching around the device. Her mind spun, spiraling into every possible excuse she could come up with, every reason she had to not answer. Maybe she could just ignore it—say she was busy, say she didn't hear it, say her phone died. He wouldn't suspect anything, right? He never did. He never even—

Your voice cut through her thoughts, low and smooth. "Answer it."

Tara's breath caught in her throat. She blinked, eyes snapping to you, like she wasn't sure she'd heard you right. "What?"

Your smirk deepened. You leaned in, just enough for her to feel your breath ghost over her shoulder. And then, slower this time—deliberate, teasing, dripping with amusement—you repeated, "Answer the phone."

Her body tensed. Her stomach flipped. Her throat felt like it had closed up completely. There was no way. She shook her head, already stammering, "I—I can't—"

But before she could even finish, you gripped her hips and pulled her back onto the strap, burying yourself deeper with one swift motion.

Tara choked on a loud, surprised moan, her body jolting, the phone nearly slipping from her fingers.

She barely had a second to recover before your voice came again, low and firm and completely in control.

"Answer him, Tara."

So she did.

Because she couldn't say no to you—not when you made her feel like this. Not when her whole body was on fire, every nerve ignited, pulsing with heat. Not when you fucked her like you did, when you had her melting into every single touch, when you knew exactly how to make her fall apart.

Her finger shook as it hovered over the screen, hesitation tightening in her chest. But then, with a sharp inhale, she slid her thumb across to accept the call, bringing the phone up to her ear.

The device was warm, heated from the stuffy air in the car, and when it pressed against her flushed skin, she felt the contrast—felt just how overheated she was, how wrecked she already looked. Her breath wavered as she tried to pull herself together, forcing a swallow past the lump in her throat.

Then, as steadily as she could manage—sweet, happy, normal—she breathed out a soft, "Hi, baby."

It almost sounded real. Almost. If not for the slight tremble in her voice, the way it wavered at the edges, betraying her.

Chad didn't seem to notice. "Hey, babe," he greeted easily, his voice light and casual. "You still at the mall? They're closing soon, just wondering when you're heading back."

Tara's stomach twisted. Still at the mall. She barely stopped herself from laughing at the irony. She hadn't been anywhere near the mall. She hadn't been walking around all day, hadn't spent the afternoon wandering stores, browsing through clothes, or carrying shopping bags.

No, she'd spent it in your lap. On her back, on her knees, on all fours. She'd spent it with your hands all over her, your mouth on her, making her come over and over again until her legs had trembled and she thought she might actually black out from the intensity of it.

Chad kept talking, completely oblivious. "Mindy and Anika are having a movie night. Thought we could go, but if you're too tired from walking around all day, I get it."

Tara parted her lips, just about to answer—

And then you moved.

Her breath hitched violently as you pushed back inside her, slow but deep, making her grip the phone tighter. Her eyes fluttered, jaw clenching as she struggled not to react.

You weren't done with her. Not even close.

Her head dipped forward, eyes squeezing shut as you dragged out again, the pace torturously slow. She could hear it, could hear how wet she was, how easily you moved inside her, and the realization sent another wave of heat crashing through her body.

She started nodding—at nothing, at Chad's words, at whatever he was saying—just to distract herself. Just to have something to focus on besides the way you were ruining her.

But then you picked up the pace.

Faster. Harder.

Tara's breathing grew heavier, her mouth falling open as her fingers gripped the phone like a lifeline.

Chad finished talking, clearly waiting for a response.

She gulped, trying to focus, trying so hard to make her voice sound normal.

"Y-yeah, uhm—"

Her breath caught, her body jerking as you rolled your hips just right. She had to bite her lip—hard—to keep herself from making a sound.

You weren't making it easy.

You were deep, hitting the perfect spot every single time, making her entire body feel like it was burning.

Her lips trembled, fingers tightening around the phone as she struggled to push out the words. "I'd—" she inhaled sharply, voice breaking, "—I'd love to go."

Her thighs twitched. She tried so hard to keep herself still, to not move against you, to not push back for more.

She could feel your smirk. Could practically hear the amusement in the way you exhaled through your nose, in the way you didn't stop, didn't slow down.

She sucked in another shaky breath.

"I—" she panted, each syllable shaky, "I'm leaving soon. I'll—" her voice hitched again as you thrust just right, "—I'll text you when I-I'm done."

There was a short pause before Chad's voice came through again, casual, completely unaware.

"Why are you so out of breath?"

Tara's heart practically stopped.

She had to think fast. Her brain scrambled for something, anything, that would make sense, that would explain why she sounded like this.

"I—" her voice wavered, still breathless, "I'm just—trying to make it to Nordstrom before they close."

The lie slipped out before she could even process it.

And the worst part?

He fucking believed it.

"Alright," he said, not suspicious at all. Not even a little. "Just text me when you're on your way home."

Tara could barely focus, barely even hear him over the pounding of her own heart.

And then—then—he added it. The three words she'd been waiting for, dreading, knowing it was coming.

"I love you."

Tara squeezed her eyes shut. "I love you too," she panted out, forcing the words past her lips, rushing to get it over with—

But then you thrust forward. Hard.

So fucking hard.

A sharp cry ripped from her throat before she could stop it, before she could even think. It wasn't just a moan—it was loud, raw, completely unfiltered, and so obviously not the sound of someone running through a mall.

Her eyes flew open, her whole body freezing as panic crashed over her like a wave.

Oh, fuck.

Her mouth hung open, heart hammering, hands clenching around the phone. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

"What the fuck was that?" He let out a small laugh. Not mad. Not suspicious. Just genuinely confused.

Tara's stomach twisted.

She could feel your breath against her skin. Could feel the way you stilled, the way you were watching her, waiting to see what she'd say.

Her brain was a fucking mess, completely scrambled, thoughts running too fast, too panicked.

She had to fix this.

Quickly, she squeezed her eyes shut again. "I stubbed my toe," she rushed out, her voice tight, breathless. Then she forced out a hiss through her teeth, as if to sell it. "Fuck, that hurt."

Chad chuckled on the other end of the line, that same stupid little laugh of his that made Tara's stomach twist. Completely oblivious. Completely unaware of what was happening, what had been happening for weeks now. "God, babe, you're so clumsy."

Tara barely managed to force out a weak "Mhm." It was all she could get out without completely giving herself away.

But the truth was, that sound wasn't for him.

It was for you.

Because she was desperate.

And she needed you to keep going.

She was so fucking close—every muscle in her body was tensed, her thighs trembling where they pressed against the leather seats, her breath coming out in shallow little gasps as she tried to keep some level of composure. And you knew it. You fucking knew it.

She felt the way your hands flexed against her waist, felt the teasing drag of your fingertips as they traced up her stomach, slow, calculated, making her shiver. Felt the way your hips barely moved now, holding back, waiting, making her want to fucking scream.

She wasn't going to make it if Chad kept talking.

Her jaw clenched, and she could already feel herself slipping, feel the heat pooling lower, spreading through her entire body. The pleasure was too much, too overwhelming, and she couldn't be on the phone with Chad when she came.

Her fingers gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white, the screen slick against her sweaty palm. She couldn't even register what Chad was saying anymore, his voice a distant, meaningless hum in the background.

"Well, alright," he finally said, sounding distracted, like he was half paying attention, "just hurry up before they start the movie without us."

You shifted behind her, your fingers pressing just a little harder against her burning skin, and Tara's breath hitched.

She couldn't do this anymore.

Her voice came out rushed, breathless, almost strained—"Yeah, I will—bye."

She fumbled with the phone, barely managing to end the call before her entire body gave out, slumping forward onto her forearms as she let out a shaking exhale.

And then, the second the call disconnected, you slammed into her again.

Her forehead pressed against the window as she let out a choked gasp, her entire body trembling. She was so fucking close—so close she could taste it, feel it in every inch of her, her thighs burning, her back arching as she tried to push herself back against you.

She wasn't even thinking anymore. Couldn't think.

Not with how fucking deep you were, how perfectly you hit every spot inside her that had her toes curling and her fingers twitching uselessly against the seat.

She felt your hands tighten around her hips, grounding her, holding her exactly where you wanted her. And then—

"Good job, baby."

Tara's breath stuttered.

"You did so good."

And that—that was the last straw.

Her entire body tensed, pleasure hitting her so hard it nearly knocked the air from her lungs. And then she broke.

She came with a loud, uncontrollable moan, her back arching, her arms giving out beneath her. The orgasm ripped through her in wave after wave of unbearable pleasure, leaving her shaking, gasping, crying out as you kept going, dragging it out, making it last until she couldn't even fucking breathe.

The car was silent except for the sound of heavy breathing. Tara felt like she could still hear the blood rushing through her ears, her body tingling in the aftermath. She barely registered the feeling of you pulling out until the loss of contact made her whimper slightly, her legs trembling as she collapsed fully onto the seat beneath her.

Her arms felt weak. Her thighs burned. And her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. You weren't much better, panting as you sat back, but fuck—Tara was completely spent.

Still, she did what she always did. Without a word, she forced herself to sit up on shaking arms and began fixing her clothes, her fingers clumsily pulling her underwear back up, straightening her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles in her shirt. She was still flushed, her skin still burning, and her hair was an absolute mess, but at least she didn't look completely wrecked.

You watched her, an amused glint in your eyes, and then, just as she was running her fingers through her tangled hair, you smirked.

"How's that toe you stubbed?"

Tara froze for a second, then let out a breathless laugh, rolling her eyes as she shoved you lightly. "Fuck you," she muttered, but there was no real heat behind it—just the kind of teasing exasperation that made you grin wider.

She reached down, grabbing her shoes from where they had ended up discarded on the floor. She slipped them on, lacing up her white Converse with slightly shaky fingers. When she was done, she glanced back at you, hesitating for just a second before pushing open the car door.

The cool night air hit her instantly, and she took a deep breath, stepping out onto the pavement. But before she shut the door, she turned back around, looking at you over her shoulder.

"Next Sunday?"

You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you met her gaze.

"Next Sunday."

And with that, she shut the door and walked away.

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #mabel x reader #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x reader #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter #ask #sam carpenter x reader #smut #tara carpenter smut

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harmonyrae · 5 months ago

Text

Itty Bitty Titty Love

Synopsis: You’ve always been insecure of your chest size. Even an ass man appreciates nice tits… What if you’re no longer attractive to them when they see you for the first time? The boys are VERY eager to put your worries to rest.

AN: As a member of the itty bitty titty committee myself and realizing I can embrace my free will as an author, I wrote this for my itty bitty girlies. Also, it’s just hot imaging the boys thumbing nipples like thumbsticks on a gamepad. Cover picture is Queen Zendaya btw :)

Content Warnings: Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel, Sylus all basically try to suck your soul out through your tits, a shit ton of nipple play, they do be worshiping ya body, angst, body insecurities, medical references, mentions of plastic surgery, alcohol, explicit language, 18+ MDNI Word Count: 9.1k

“Your fingernails are going to fall off if you keep biting them like that.”

Zayne’s voice snapped you back to the present. He hadn’t even looked up from the folder in his hand. You drop your hand from your mouth and stuff both hands into the front pocket of your hoodie. You continue picking at your nails now that Zayne can’t scrutinize your bad habit.

“Stop picking at your nails.”

How does he always know? You remove them from your pocket and fold your hands in your lap. You squeeze your hands as tightly as you can to distract yourself. Zayne has been your doctor for some time, check-ups were not new, but your relationship is. You had officially become Zayne’s girlfriend a few weeks ago and while things were going well, you had both decided to take things slow when it came to anything physical. Making out and sleeping in the same bed while holding onto each other was as far as you’d gone.

“Go ahead and change into a gown, please.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a subtle gasp echoing in through the small office. You straighten up and clear your throat trying to cover up your embarrassment. Zayne looks up at you before placing the folder on his desk. He walks over and places his hands on either side of your thighs on the examination table. His thumbs lightly stroking your thighs to stop your jittery legs from shaking.

“My love, you’ve been anxious all morning. What’s wrong?”

Your heart melts at his nickname for you, he’s always telling you how much he adores you. And he can always tell when you’re upset. He doesn’t back down until you talk to him and he can help you work through the problem.

“It’s just… I didn’t think we would have to do a full exam. Usually you just listen to my heart and do a quick EKG.”

“Yes, but the last echocardiogram and MRI was a year ago. We need to check for any changes.”

A year ago, Zayne had been at a conference and you had done those exams with another doctor. You remember feeling awkward then, exposed and uncomfortable. But your heart condition had to be monitored thoroughly or you’d be let go from the Association so you dealt with it. But now, with Zayne back you were feeling a wave of anxiety that was… different.

“Do I have to put on the gown?”

Zayne cocked his head, scanning your face in an attempt to understand your worries.

“If your bra has any wiring it will disrupt the tests and damage the machine. It is also optimal for the electrocardiogram so we can place more electrodes and get a clearer reading. And the gel we use for the echocardiogram would ruin the fabric.”

He explained everything so effortlessly. Even if you had worn a wireless bra, which of course you didn’t because you needed all the help you could get, you would still have to remove it for the other tests. You felt your heart pound and your stomach drop as you thought about Zayne seeing you topless. And it wasn’t the “excited and sexy” kind of nervousness.

You are not well-endowed, you just aren’t. You know there is nothing wrong with it, but when it comes to intimacy you always wonder if you’re too small and he won’t be satisfied. And with how Zayne always ends up kissing your collarbone and any sliver of exposed skin on your chest during your make out sessions, you were more anxious than you’ve ever been.

“Oh… okay.” Your voice barely above a whisper.

Zayne tilts your chin up to look at him. His thumb traces your jaw.

“I promise to stay professional, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You shake your head, the last thing you want him to think is you think he’d be unprofessional.

“No, no… I’ll change, just… can I.. uhm…”

Zayne catches on and straightens, slowly turning towards the door.

“I’ll be back in 5 minutes, okay?”

You nod and watch him leave. You try to take a deep breath and your chest shakes. You finally stand and pull your hoodie over your head, folding it neatly before setting it on the chair next to the exam table. You turn to face the small mirror hung behind the door and reach behind to unclasp your bra. You tug the straps down and lift the padded cups away. As you fold your bra into as tiny a ball as possible, you stare at your bare chest. It’s not that your breasts were ugly, in fact, they were quite perky. Your rosy pink nipples hardening against the cool office air were… pretty? But no matter how many compliments you gave yourself, you still felt too small.

You sling the medical gown over your shoulders and tie the strings at the waist. After tucking your folded bra inside your hoodie, you sit back down on the exam table and wait for Zayne.

The door finally cracks open and you hear him call from outside the door.

“May I come in?”

You huff out a laugh and wrap your arms around yourself.

“Yea, I’m ready.”

He enters with a small cart covered in a variety of machines. You recognize most of them. The wand of an ultrasound, the electrodes connected to wires neatly stacked by the monitor that would show the results. Zayne locks the wheels of the cart beside the table and motions for you to lie back. You hesitate and shift backwards slowly, finally settling back against the padded table, your hands still clenched around your waist.

Zayne places a hand over yours and leans over to look down at you.

“It’ll be over before you know it, we’re not doing anything new.”

You give him a weak smile and watch him walk over to the small sink to wash his hands and put on gloves. He returns to your side and starts to undo the strings of the gown, your hands still somewhat in the way. As anxious as you are, you also notice how wet you’ve become. The thought of Zayne’s hands on your bare skin makes you clit throb.

Just as he begins to pull the gown open you hear a muffled sob, you don’t even realize the sound came from your own mouth. Zayne immediately stops and moves to hover over your face, his gloved hands stroking your cheeks and wiping away tears - that you didn’t realize had started to fall.

“This isn’t about the tests, is it? Please tell me what’s wrong. Please…”

His voice is gentle and you pinch your eyes closed, guilt washing over you. You should have talked to him about your insecurities sooner. You’re crying in his exam room, wasting his time with your emotions when he could be treating other patients. He takes hold of your hand and squeezes it gently.

“For the moment, I’m not your doctor, I’m just Zayne. Tell me what’s going on, my love.”

You cover your face with your hand and take a deep breath knowing you have to get the words out quickly or you’ll crumble.

“I’ve always been self-conscious about my chest size. I barely have breasts and wear push up bras with padding to look normal but really I barely fill out an A cup. I know you like to kiss my chest and I feel like you’re going to be disappointed and I know this is a doctor's appointment and you’ll be professional but this is the first time you’re seeing my chest and I am embarrassed…”

Your final words are a tad muffled as you struggle to get them out. You keep your eyes covered with your hand and let out a shaky breath. After a minute, Zayne pries your hand away and you open your eyes to look up at him. A gentle smile tugs at his lips and he holds onto both of your hands. He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I do love to kiss your chest. And I can’t wait to savor every inch of your skin. Your breasts are perfect because they’re a part of you.”

More tears stream down your face and your heart hammers inside your chest. You are undeniably wet and aching to be touched, but your first time with Zayne would not be in his exam room. Even if it does give you major Grey’s Anatomy vibes and there are plenty of scenes you’d love to recreate - Zayne the Derek to your Meredith.

“Let me see you darling, please.”

His whisper sends chills down your spine and you move your hands way letting him open the gown. He settles his hands on your waist right below your ribcage. You keep your eyes locked on his face, your chest heaves and you feel your nipples tighten. Zayne drops his eyes and lets out a soft breathy moan. His eyes snap back to yours.

“Will you allow me to be ‘just Zayne’ for another moment?”

You nod slowly, your face and chest feeling hot under his gaze. You watch as he lowers his head and places a kiss to your collarbone. Your weeping cunt is pulsating with anticipation. His lips lower and he kisses the center of your chest between your breasts. You feel his hot breath fan across your chest making your shoulders tremble. His hand splays across your stomach, you realize he removed his gloves, his skin caressing yours leaves you gasping.

Then you feel his wet lips capture your nipple and you groan, louder than you intended. You clasp your hand over your mouth, but Zayne doesn’t stop. His tongue flicks over your sensitive peak and you arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him. His hand glides from your stomach to your other breast, his thumb pressing onto your neglected nipple. He rolls his thumb in a circular motion, sending your nerves into a frenzy.

He switches sides and sucks your nipple into his mouth. His hand switches as well, his nimble fingers rolling your swollen nipple between them. You feel the cold metal on the clasp of his badge brush against your skin bringing goosebumps to the surface in an instant.

“Zayne… mhm god…”

He moans against you and the vibrations against your chest make your head spin. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug. He kneads your breast, letting his hand press and rub.

“If you don’t - ahh - stop, I’m gonna… fuck Zayne…”

He finally releases your nipple with a wet pop. He lifts his head to meet your eyes and looks at you over his smudged glasses. His face flushed, a drop of sweat rolling down his temple.

“Your breasts are beautiful and I can’t wait…”

He places a kiss on each of your nipples while rubbing his hands down your waist. You shiver and lean your head back on the table.

“...to continue this at home. But for now, I think you should get dressed and speak to reception about rescheduling this appointment.”

You lift your head quickly and stare at him with wide eyes.

“Wait… why?”

He rises and closes your gown. He offers his hand and you take it, helping you sit up.

“Because I don’t think I’ll get an accurate reading after… my examination.”

You giggle and lift your hands to his face, pulling him closer to you. He leans in and kisses you without hesitation. You’ll never forget this moment. Zayne desired your body as it was, itty bitty titties included.

You knew a second bowl of hot pot was a bad idea, but it was so delicious and the weather was so cold you didn’t care. You cuddle up next to Xavier as you tip the bowl back, slurping down the warm broth. Xavier chuckles as he lifts a napkin to your chin, catching a droplet before it stained your sweater.

“Thanks.”

Your mouth is full of noodles and meat as you speak, only making Xavier laugh harder. He sets down his third bowl and wraps an arm around you. A gust of cold air whips your hair across your face. Xavier quickly tucks the strand behind your ear. Your cheeks, flushed from the cold wind and hot soup, now burn hotter under his gaze.

“Thank you for coming to find me tonight.”

You lean your head onto his shoulder. You feel him let out a deep breath. When Jenna told you he had gone missing after his meeting with her, you immediately started looking for him. You knew he was getting close to catching a write up, but didn’t expect it to happen so soon. When you found him in your favorite spot, your heart broke.

The place where Xavier asked you to officially be his girlfriend a little over two weeks ago. An old bench on top of a hill that overlooked the entirety of Linkon - or almost all of it. The city lights glow and the stars shimmer against the dark indigo sky. During the spring the hill is covered in flowers, the grass a vibrant green in the summer months, in autumn crisp colorful leaves and when winter comes children love to use the steep slope to sled. You’d watched a whole year pass on this bench, talking with Xavier about anything and everything. And when he finally asked you to be his, you didn’t hesitate, pulling him into a kiss you’ve craved since you met him.

But tonight, you sat with him until the moon had fully risen. He told you about the meeting with Jenna. She had written him up for being reckless on his last mission. He had used himself as bait for the Wanderer and gotten himself badly injured. She had given him countless warnings, but finally had to put something in writing. You held his hand as he sat in silence.

“I know she had to, I’m not upset.”

You nodded, but you knew he was frustrated and embarrassed. He had once led a whole crew, held a position of authority, and been the one to hand out punishments. And now, he was receiving them. You knew he could have been promoted multiple times, but he always turned it down. He enjoyed the daily grind of fighting Wanderers. And he loved being your partner.

Eventually, you heard his stomach growl. You dragged him down the hill to your bike and went to your favorite hot pot restaurant. It was just before closing so the owner offered to serve you as long as you sat outside so they could start cleaning the sitting area. And even though it was cold, you both agreed quickly, your hunger winning out over your comfort. Now you were sitting back, cuddled up next to Xavier with a full belly and wanted nothing more than to curl up with him on the couch for the rest of the night.

The drive home was slow, the road to your apartment complex was getting work done so you had to wait an extra 20 minutes waiting for a path to clear. Xavier had rested his head against your back, his hands wrapped around your waist. During the wait, he had shifted his hands to your hips. When he started rubbing circles into your lower back with his thumbs, you felt your heart skip. He shifted his hands under your sweater to touch your skin, continuing his massage. When he started to move his hands around to your stomach you stiffened.

“I’m sorry…”

His voice was soft, barely audible through his helmet. You shook your head.

“No no, just unexpected is all.” He resumed rubbing his fingers along your skin, leaving goosebumps behind.

By the time you had parked at your apartment, his hands had trailed down to your waistband caressing your stomach and dipping down to rub your inner thighs. You parked your bike and leaned back against him, letting out a sigh that fogged up your visor. You heard him chuckle behind you.

“Do you want to come up to my place?”

His voice had an edge to it, something dark and dangerously sexy. You nodded and you both dismounted and removed your helmets before heading into the building. While you were excited, you also felt a twinge of anxiety. Would this just be your usual make-out or did he want something more? And if he wanted something more… would he be disappointed in your body?

You’ve toyed around with the idea of a breast enhancement for years. You were barely 18 when you asked your grandma about it. She had shut down the idea immediately, telling you to wait until you were 25 and reconsider. You just felt so disproportionate, opting to wear baggy clothes. While you enjoyed being comfortable, you always felt like you were hiding.

Now, Xavier was holding your waist closely while the elevator made its slow ascent to his floor. You leaned back against him, his hands trailing lower, pulling your hips back against his groin. You grinded against him instinctively, your mind going blank as you felt his erection press against your ass. He groaned softly in your ear and kissed your neck.

The elevator door opened and Xavier raced forward, pulling you along by your wrist. You giggle as you stumble forward following him to his apartment door. He presses his thumb down and swings the door open dragging you inside.

Once you were inside, his hands went to work removing your layers. Your thick winter coat falling to the floor behind you, your scarf, your gloves. You tug at his hoodie, watching him pull it over his head to reveal his firm torso, his abs tensing as his breathing becomes more labored. He kept kissing your lips, your neck, your hands - any skin he could reach.

You collapse onto the couch with him, he crawls over you, settling between your thighs. His hands knead the flesh of your hips, your pants slipping down slightly to grant him more access to your bare skin. His hands start to move upwards towards the hem of your sweater and just as he slips beneath the thick fabric you gasp into his mouth. Your hand flying down from where you had been gripping his shoulder to stop him.

He jumps at your sudden movement, his hand frozen in place. He looks at you, his eyes hazy with lust.

“I’m sorry, I thought… we’ll stop?”

His voice was gentle, but you could tell he was barely holding back… his kisses had been so intense. You stare at him with wide eyes, your fingers digging into his neck. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out.

He takes hold of your chin, sitting up on his knee. His gaze sends a burst of heat straight to your core. You wanted him so damn badly, but your stomach kept doing backflips. You were so uncertain how he would react to your body, would he act like he loved it but secretly be disappointed?

“Are you okay? Did I go too far?”

The concern in his voice makes you nearly choke on a sob. You shake your head furiously.

“No, not at all! I… uhm…”

“What is it, baby?”

You often rely on sarcasm and brush off delicate topics because you’d rather crawl in a hole than feel weak. So you take a deep breath and brace yourself.

“I just feel like I should warn you, I’m part of a committee.”

Xavier stares at you, his brows furrow. He leans over, resting his side against the back of the couch. He keeps one hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“The itty bitty titty committee. I have no tits basically and I think you’ll be disappointed, but I’m going to get a boob job in a few years once I’ve saved up enough so maybe –”

Before you can continue, Xavier clasps a hand over your mouth. He leans in close, his knee pressing against your core making you shiver.

“I can promise you, I won’t be disappointed.”

You give him a look, a “sure, okay” look. He scoffs and proceeds to lift the hem of your sweater slowly. He presses his mouth to your ear, giving your earlobe a nibble.

“I think I should take a look. Decide for myself, yea?”

He lifts his hand from your mouth and looks at you, he waits for you to give him the go ahead. With a subtle nod, he lifts you up, his hands diving under the back of your sweater. He swiftly unhooks your bra and pulls it out from under your sweater, tossing it onto his coffee table. He lets you fall back down onto the couch before he lifts the front of your sweater and sticks his head underneath.

“Xavier!”

You gasp and barely have time to register what’s happening when you feel it, his tongue pressed flat against your nipple. Your hips buck and you grind against the growing bulge in his pants. He groans as he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He sucks and licks and rolls his tongue over the sensitive peak. His other hand reaches under to pinch your other nipple.

You’re not sure why you expected him to be gentle. It felt like he was trying to suck your soul out of your breast and when he grazed his teeth against the tender flesh you nearly screamed. He nibbled and damn near made out with your breast. Without warning he switched sides, giving your other nipple the same treatment.

“Oh oh oh ooohhh fuck…”

You were rolling your hips against him while arching your back trying to trap his mouth against your chest. He started squeezing your breasts, making your nipples strain and tighten even more. He opened his mouth even wider and licked your breast up and down, changing sides over and over and over. Your head was pressed so far into the cushion your neck was starting to ache.

“Xav pleasepleaseplease oh god uh fuck ahh…”

He finally pulled his head out from under your sweater. He wasted no time lifting your sweater right off of your body, rolling it up and tucking it under your hips. He starts to unbutton your pants, but slows to lean forward and capture your nipple again with his mouth.

“Xavier god ahh..”

He mumbles against your breast, letting his lips drag across each peak as he switches sides as he speaks, never leaving your chest alone for a moment.

“Do you want more, baby girl?”

You tug at his hair forcing him to look up at you, his face flushed and sweat coating his chest.

“God yes… please Xav, please…”

He grins as he leans down and places gentle kisses to the center of your chest. He continues to work your pants off of you.

“Your tits are delicious honey, don’t you dare change a thing.”

You close your eyes and hold on for dear life as Xavier takes you for the first time. Your tiny titties were nothing to be ashamed of, in fact, he loved them. Now what to do with all that money you saved up for that surgery?

“If you don’t get your cute ass down here I’ll have to restart the movie and I’m already wet!”

Rafayel’s voice rings through the house. His tone was serious, but playful as ever. You knew he would restart the movie without complaints, he was just impatient. You stare at yourself in the mirror, pushing your breasts together, trying to retie your bikini top to make them appear larger, but nothing is working.

You sigh and grab hold of the sink. You take a deep breath trying to calm your nerves. When Rafayel suggested a movie night you were all for it. He had painted a portrait of a famous director's dog so he sent Rafayel a copy of his upcoming film. Getting a sneak peak at what is sure to be this fall’s most popular movie was enticing. But then Rafayel suggested making it a movie night by the pool. He had an outdoor screen and the old fashioned lights strung above the infinity pool would surely make the night magical. But as soon as he suggested it, your heart sank. He was so excited, so you didn’t refuse, but all day you’d been tense thinking about what you’d wear.

Your bright blue bikini was your favorite, simple but comfortable. The triangle top on most girls would probably not cover much, but for you it was relatively modest. Usually, you didn’t care what people thought. If you went to the beach, you wore your bikini and had a great time, end of story. But when it came to Rafayel, you suddenly felt… exposed and… lacking.

When Rafayel asked you to be his girlfriend you didn’t even let him finish the question before jumping into his arms screaming yes. You had actually knocked him over, both of you falling into the fountain outside the aquarium. You spent 5 minutes laughing and just sat there. He held onto you, like he was afraid you’d drift away the moment you stood up.

It hadn’t even been a week and the amount of times you had almost thrown caution to the wind and dropped to your knees just to get a taste… Yeah, this is concerning. And you can tell Rafayel is feeling the same way, the way he holds onto you and kisses your neck. He wants to leave his mark and make sure everyone can see it. The various hickeys on your neck and shoulders were more than enough to send a clear message to your coworkers and friends.

You both had been dancing around the conversation of being intimate. You wanted it to be natural, but you also felt so self-conscious you weren’t sure you’d ever be ready. Maybe you can just tell him you love doggy and he won’t have to see your chest? But every time you tried to turn around in bed he would hold you tighter, wanting to face you and feel your cheek against his chest.

You grabbed one of Rafayel’s t-shirts out of his dresser and tugged it on. You knotted the excess fabric at the hip, but kept the chest loose. You swept your hair into a messy bun on the top of your head and jogged down the stairs and towards the backyard.

You could hear the ocean from his yard, the constant crashing of the waves against the shore had become your favorite sound - besides Rafayel’s singing. You could hear him humming to himself while he prepared mixed drinks at the bar next to the pool. His swim trunks were fitted, showing off his adorable ass and leaving nothing to the imagination. You could feel your core start to pulse.

You cross your arms over your chest and approach the bar, silently slipping onto one of the bar stools. You clear your throat dramatically.

“Bartender! I’d like to order please!”

Rafayel jumped and clicked his tongue as he turned around.

“That’s not funny! I could have dropped a glass.”

His pout made your smile hurt your cheeks. He strolled over and placed a hurricane glass in front of you. The glass is lightly frosted from the blended drink. Bright blue slushy at the bottom with a yellow layer on top, a slice of pineapple on the rim next to a straw.

“A Rafayel special. I just had leftover stuff from the party last weekend, so this is… uhh… unique. It’s basically a Blue Hawaiian on the bottom with a Pina Colada on top. All made with Rum, so we are not mixing liquors. Learned the hard way about that one…”

You lean forward and take a sip, the sweet and sour combo makes your lips pucker and eyes squeeze shut. When you open your eyes, you see Rafayel staring at you, waiting for a verdict.

“It’s sour, I like it! What will you call it?”

He tilts his head, lifting his hand to his chin. You let your eyes drift while he is distracted, his broad shoulders tapering down to a tight waist. His abs defined and glistening with water, you guess he had already jumped in, maybe to test the temperature? You sigh and when you return your eyes to his face, you see he is looking at you with a smug grin.

“You’re staring, cutie.”

You scoff and take another sip of your drink, the sour aftertaste hits you like a brick. You shake your head and hop off the bar stool, taking your drink with you as you walk around the edge of the pool. You hear Rafayel following you.

“So you have the movie ready?”

Rafayel hums and plants his hands on your hips. You lean back against him and breathe in his sweet scent, he always smelled like the ocean in the best way. It made your head spin. You feel him take your drink from your hand and set it on a nearby table. You close your eyes and sway with him. Unfortunately, you picked the wrong moment to trust him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and lunged into the pool dragging you with him.

He’s lucky the water is warm or you’d have slapped him silly. You wiggle against his grasp, the water dragging you down. But just as quickly as you sank to the bottom, you are being pulled to the surface. You slap Rafayel’s arm as you surface, spinning around to splash him.

“Rafayel! You little shit!”

Rafayel laughs and splashes water back at you. He finally grabs your waist and pulls you back to him, his lips finding yours in an instant. You taste Rum on his lips, he always did prefer to drink it straight, only opting to drink “pretty drinks” when he was with you. The spicy undertones linger as he dips his tongue into your mouth. You moan as his tongue tangles with yours. He sucks your tongue into his mouth as his hands reach down to position your thighs around his waist.

You’re nearly delirious when you finally pull back, his mouth moving to your neck while you catch your breath.

“Did you even put the movie in? Or are you - fuck… are you —”

He cuts you off by kissing you once more. He pulls back just enough to mumble against your mouth.

“We can watch the movie, if you want. Or we can… make one ourselves?”

You let out a loud moan as he bites your lower lip. His hands move to palm your ass before tucking his fingers under your shirt, pulling up slowly. You pull back, tearing your mouth away, and reach for his hands. His eyes are full of surprise which slowly morphs into fear.

“What happened? What did I do?”

You shake your head, holding his face in your hands.

“Nothing, you didn’t do anything, I’m sorry.”

You remove your legs from around his waist and he reluctantly lets go of your hips. You swim to the edge and hoist yourself up to sit with your legs in the water. You immediately tug on your shirt so it won’t cling to your body. Rafayel swims over and stands up, the water only to his stomach, he crosses his arms and rests his forearms on your knees.

“What’s up cutie? What happened there?”

You try to laugh it off and pinch his cheek playfully.

“I told you, it’s nothing. I just… I was surprised, that’s all.”

His nose scrunches up and he tilts his head.

“It’s a surprise I want my hands all over you? We’ve been like this all week, what changed tonight? Something definitely changed.”

He’s right. All week if you weren’t kissing him, you were hugging him, if you weren’t hugging him you were holding his hand, if you weren’t holding his hand you were touching him in some way. And he was doing the exact same to you. The only difference was how exposed you were, how little clothing you had on. You were afraid, afraid he wouldn’t be as attracted to you once he saw how small your breasts were. Although you believe he is an ass man, his hands always found a way to hold onto you there, you still felt inadequate.

He tapped your forehead and you looked up, blinking at him slowly.

“You’re thinking about it, but not saying it. Out with it, beautiful.”

He leans on your legs, his face inches from your own. He has the faintest hint of a pout and you hate how easily you fold for that little lip. Your fiddle with your fingers, uncertain what to do with your hands. Finally you sigh and meet his eye.

“I don’t have much going on… with my chest. It’s like I never went through puberty or something cause I just… I don’t have… I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

You feel your cheeks burn and you lift your hands to cover your face. When you feel the pressure of Rafayel’s arms on your legs disappear your stomach drops. Then you feel his hands around your wrists, slowly pulling your hands away. You keep your eyes cast downwards and shift uncomfortably on the tile beneath you.

“Cutie?”

His gentle voice warms you from the inside out and you look up at him. His beautiful smile is contagious and you feel the corners of your mouth tip upwards. You huff out a laugh, trying to calm your racing heart.

“I have never, can never, will never be disappointed in you. Your body makes me…”

He pauses, his hands sliding up your thighs. You instinctively spread your legs for him to slide his waist between them.

“It makes me… fuck… I feel like I’m on fire. I just want to hold you and touch you…”

His hands continue up your thighs to your hips, his fingers gently lifting the hem of his shirt away from you. He caresses the skin of your stomach, and you’re thankful you're already wet from the pool because your cunt is practically weeping for him.

“Take this off, I want to see you.”

You hesitate for a moment, but finally lift your hands to undo the knot at your waist. You tug at the shirt and pull it over your head, the fabric heavy with water. You drop the shirt to the ground, and round your shoulders, you don’t even realize you’re pushing your breasts together in an attempt to plump them up. When Rafayel grabs your shoulders you practically yelp and look up at him, confused.

“Don’t do that. Don’t push them together.”

You close your eyes and roll your shoulders back, relaxing them and force yourself to stay still.

“That’s my job.”

His voice was deeper, a rasp to it that caught you by surprise, just like his hands which cupped your breasts and squeezed them. You lurch forward and gasp. You’re uncertain if you are surprised or angry, but as he begins to flex his hand pushing his palms harder against your nipples you can’t remember.

“Raf…”

He drops his hands and leans in, kissing your neck.

“May I?”

His hands travel up your back and he fiddles with the strings of your top. Your chest rises and falls faster as his eyes stay locked on yours. You nod and lift your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. You can feel him untie your top, both at your back and behind your neck. Your body is pressed against his, his hand snakes up your stomach to grab a hold of the fabric and rip it away from your body. The feeling of your tense nipples pressed against his bare chest sends another shockwave through your body.

He shifts his mouth, kissing your jaw, your neck, your shoulders - his hot mouth leaving a trail of saliva behind as he tastes every inch of your skin. One of his hands lifts and squeezes your breast, lifting it to his mouth. His teeth roll your nipple between them, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you press your hips forward suddenly. With your core pressed against his stomach, he holds you up with a hand to your back, his other hand squeezes and tugs at your breasts lining it up perfectly with his mouth.

You arch your back, your hands rake through his hair and down the back of his neck. He moans as your nails start to dig in. He bites down a little harder and you cry out.

“Fuck fuck ahh fuck Rafayel I… please…”

As he repositions and shifts to massage your neglected breast, he whispers against your skin.

“Fuck… you’re so sensitive. How does this feel?”

He flicks his tongue over your nipple over and over and over and you whimper as your eyes roll back. You’ve never realized how sensitive your nipples were. How just the slightest touch was sending you into a frenzy. Maybe it’s because you were so worried about your size that you just never let anyone touch you this way. But right now, you were convinced he could make you come without even touching your pussy.

“Please don’t stop, fuuuuck, do that faster…”

He closes his mouth around you and sucks, his tongue never stopping. He no longer needed to hold your breast to his mouth as you were arching into him. He dropped his hand to your core, putting pressure on your clit through your bikini bottoms. You rolled your hips and spread your legs wider, desperate for him to do more. But instead of doing more, he pulled back, releasing your breast and putting less pressure on your throbbing clit. You whimper again, dropping your head to look at him. His smile was wider than ever.

“You are… so goddamn beautiful. Your moans nearly made me lose my mind…”

You feel your cheeks warm. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck, letting your fingernails lightly scratch his skin. He shivers and tucks his hands under your ass, lifting you and pulling you into the pool with him. He lowers himself into the water with you, your legs wrapped around him once more. His arms holding you flush against him.

“Your body is my sanctuary, never forget that, okay?”

You nod, resting your forehead against his. He didn’t see your body in parts, he saw it as a whole and he was obsessed with every single inch. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in you. And he did, until you were sure you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Why oh why did you agree to go with Sylus to this gala? You already stuck out like a sore thumb in his world, but this? This is torture.

Sylus made light conversation with the seamstress as she took his measurements for a new custom suit. You couldn’t help but notice how she touched him, her hand lingering longer than it needed to. When she took his waist measurement he made a joke and she put a hand on his fucking chest. You had bit your lip so hard you could taste blood. And now she was leaning close to him asking irrelevant questions when she should have scurried back to her desk. The gala was in two days and she was standing there talking about wine? You shift uncomfortably on the plush sofa. You just wanted to go home.

The seamstress eyed you for a moment, her eyes trailing down your body. That look, you were becoming quite used to it. Being the woman on Sylus’s arm brought you a lot of unwanted attention and judgment.

You straightened your leather jacket, checking the zippers to make sure they were fastened properly. It was unbearably hot in the boutique, but you didn’t want to take off your jacket. Sylus had surprised you after you got off work, picking you up for dinner and, apparently, shopping for the gala. If you had known, you would have worn your good bra and a shirt that highlighted your waist and distracted from your smaller than average chest.

You’d learned all the tricks of the trade by now. Spending money on a good push-up bra was better than stuffing a mediocre one and risking tissues falling out. You only ever cared when it came to dating, at work you wore a basic sports bra or bralette. Wanderers don’t care that you have tiny titties, they just have to die.

Before Sylus had started getting serious about his intentions with you, you didn’t care how you looked for him either. But after a few months of joining him as “security” for his deals or him tagging along on a mission, you had fallen so hard for him it was damn near painful. You still remember the day, about 3 weeks ago, when you finally asked him to date officially. You kept waiting for him to ask you, but eventually you got impatient and asked him. His smile was radiant that day and honestly every day since.

You had agreed to take things slow and try to figure out a plan for your relationship first before getting physical.. His position and your job made things… complicated. But you couldn’t deny the fact you found it pretty hot that you were hiding it. You were enjoying the time you had with him, where no one from your world was judging him. Sadly, you couldn’t escape everyone in his world judging you.

“Sweetie? Did you hear me?”

Sylus’s voice breaks through the white noise in your head and you blink at him. He chuckles and sits down next to you. He leans back and wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“I said now it’s your turn.”

You tense, your eyes snapping to the seamstress. She looked at you expectantly, her hand on her hip and her lips set in a crooked smirk. You couldn’t help but let your eyes fall down her body. Her voluptuous hips and, god, she had a nice rack. She had that hourglass figure that you’d only ever dreamed of. You could see it now, she wraps the measuring tape around your chest and chuckles under her breath. She’d probably mutter something like “Is that all there is?” and you’d want to crawl in a hole.

“Oh, I don’t need to, I have something.”

Sylus raises a brow in surprise. He sits up and leans closer to you, resting his arm on his knees. You cross your arms over your chest and smile innocently.

“This is a black tie event, kitten. Is it a floor length gown?”

You bite your lip. You definitely did not have a floor length gown. When would you ever need a floor length gown? Well right now, that’s when. You feel your cheeks warm as you glance between Sylus and the seamstress.

“I’ll circle back in a few minutes and see if she’s ready then.”

That voice is so sickeningly sweet, too sweet, she’s laying it on thick. All “I’m happy to help” and “let me know what you need” and all that bullshit. You cringe and watch her leave.

“If you don’t want your measurements taken, then you can just try on some dresses.”

You turn to face him and fight to keep your emotions hidden. You did not want to try on anything here. They’d have nothing for you and it would be too expensive.

“We really don’t have to do this, I can make what I have work. Don’t worry. How about we head back to the base? I bet Luke and Kieran are still trying to figure out that puzzle box we got them.”

Sylus leans in further, his nose brushing yours. He takes your chin in his hand.

“I can always tell when you’re lying, sweetie. Care to try that again?”

You scoff and try to pull your face out of his grasp, but he holds firm.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You feign ignorance once again and Sylus chuckles. It’s a deep chuckle, laced with something almost sinister. While you were trying to figure out what he's thinking he grabs onto your waist and lifts you, dragging you over to straddle his lap. You squeal and try to push back to stand up, but Sylus’s grip is too strong.

“Sylus! This isn’t appropriate!”

Sylus pulls you forward. Your hands press against his chest as you fall onto him. He nuzzles his face into your neck, placing soft kisses behind your ear. You stop resisting for a moment and close your eyes, enjoying the affection. But when you open your eyes, you spot the busty seamstress glaring at you. Green really isn’t her color.

“Sylus, stop, this isn’t –”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

He runs his hands over your thighs and you hold your breath. When he squeezes your ass your composure crumbles. You slap his chest and push back, you’re sure your face is on fire with how it’s burning.

“Little miss perfect body is staring and I just want to go home, okay? Just let me go!”

Sylus leans back to look you in the eye. He scans your face, trying to figure out where this outburst came from.

“Little miss perfect body?” He repeats your words slowly.

Your temper was reaching a boiling point. You were overheated in your jacket, the seamstress was staring daggers at you, Sylus’s hands on your body was making your head swim and you wanted nothing more than for him to touch you and hold you. You were overwhelmed and were seconds away from running out of the boutique without Sylus.

“Round ass, perfect tits, tiny waist. Can fit into any dress she wants and fill it out perfectly?”

Sylus stares at you with wide eyes. His mouth hangs open, but he says nothing.

“You know, the kind of woman people expect to be hanging off your arm? Not someone like me who can never find a dress that fits both my hips and chest because I was blessed with thick thighs but tiny tits and I can afford alterations for every dress I buy, so I just don’t bother.”

You couldn’t stop your rant. You tried to keep your voice steady and avoid yelling, but your heart was pounding and you felt that familiar sting in the back of your throat. You’d rather die than cry in the middle of a high end boutique.

“I don’t have anything to wear to the damn gala and I don’t want that bitchy seamstress to take my measurements and mock my fucking chest size. I want to leave, please Sylus.”

Sylus doesn’t hesitate to lift you off of his lap, helping you stand up. You straighten your jacket and grab your bag off the floor. You rush to the door and fling it open. Sylus thanks the seamstress and follows you out. You reach his bike and get in the driver seat. Sylus doesn’t say a thing and just hands you the keys once you finish securing your helmet. He climbs on the back and wraps his arms around you as you take off.

You’re sure you broke several laws trying to get to the Onychinus base, but you didn’t care. You wanted to crawl into your bed and cry. As soon as you parked Sylus’s bike and yanked off your helmet, you stalked into the mansion heading straight for your room. But before you could turn to walk down the hallway leading to your room, you felt your feet lift off the ground. You were tossed over Sylus’s shoulder, his arm holding your legs.

“Sylus! Put me down! Now!”

Sylus remained silent as he carried you through the mansion, he went straight for his room and you felt your stomach twist. You pounded on his back and kept shouting for him to put you down. Which he didn’t do until you were in his room with the door closed. You stumble as you regain your balance. He holds your shoulders as he looks down at you.

“You’re not leaving until you talk to me.”

You cross your arms and you know you’re pouting, but you just don’t care. He leans down to be at eye-level with you.

“Sweetie, please. Do you really feel this way about your body?”

Tears well up and you can’t blink them away fast enough, they spill over and roll down your cheeks. You bite your lip and stare at your feet. Sylus moves his hands from your shoulders to your face, his palms warming your cheeks, his thumbs wiping away your tears.

“My chest is too small, my hips are too big, I don’t fit… I don’t fit in here… with you. Everyone at these galas or auctions are stunning and their bodies are so gorgeous, I don’t –”

He cuts you off, his voice has a sharp edge.

“If you think I look at any other woman… Why would I trade a diamond for a lump of coal?”

You stare at him, eyes wide, your mind reeling. Sylus trails his hands down your neck, to your shoulders before settling on your waist.

“Your body is the only thing I truly crave in this world. More than money or gems. Every moment I am with you is pure bliss. You are my world and you are not going to speak about your body like this. Not anymore.”

You gasp and take a deep breath, your bottom lip still quivering. Sylus reaches for the zippers of your jacket and you tense.

“Let me prove to you that your body deserves to be worshiped.”

You feel a heat course through your veins.

“Okay.”

He unzips your jacket and circles behind you to tug at the sleeves. He tosses your jacket on the couch and proceeds to lift your tank top. You stand before him in one of your tried and true bralettes, nothing fancy and definitely not supportive, but the lace feels nice. His fingers trace over the delicate pattern sending shivers down your spine. He tucks his fingers under the hem and you raise your arms for him to remove it.

When you’re finally standing in front of him, your chest bare, he takes your hand and pulls you over to the bed. He sits on the edge and holds you in front of him. He places his hands over your ribcage, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. You rest your hands on his forearms, taking a deep breath.

“Close your eyes.”

You stare at him and open your mouth to argue, but he gives you a warning look. You close your eyes and try to relax your body, but not knowing what he is going to do is making you more anxious and tense. Your forehead starts to hurt from pinching your brows together and you start to wonder if you should have taken some pain relief before starting this… whatever this is… but then Sylus’s mouth presses against your skin. You gasp and grip his arms tighter. He places gentle kisses to the center of your chest, inching closer to your nipples with each kiss. He kisses around your nipple, his nose rubbing against the sensitive flesh making your knees buckle. He leans back and you open your eyes and look down at him, his smile is breathtaking.

“Turn around.”

You obey instantly, turning around and letting him guide you to sit on his lap. He holds onto your waist as he shifts backwards onto the bed. He settles you between his legs and you lean back against his chest. He places kisses to your neck, sucking and nibbling along the way. His hands rubbing your stomach before he lifts them to fully cup your breasts.

“Lean your head back and keep your eyes closed for me, angel.”

You do as you’re told, the feeling of his palms pressing against your nipples sending jolts of electricity straight to your clit. You rest your head against him and take slow and steady breaths. His hands shift and you’re about to whine, but then you feel his fingertips press against your nipples. You gasp and push your chest out, his fingers start to move more rapidly, massaging your nipples faster and faster. Rolling the tight buds in circles and occasionally flicking them with his fingernail. You arch your back and moan.

“Ahh… Sy fuck –”

He changes his pace, on one side he pinches and twists while the other he continues to massage and roll and flick. He dips his head down to place kisses to your neck. He switches back and forth over and over, his kisses getting messier as you wiggle against him in ecstasy. He finally sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, the combination of pleasure and pain pushes you over an edge. You reach your hands back and grab onto the back of Sylus’s neck. You can’t catch your breath, his fingers moving at a relentless pace making your nipples tender and swollen.

“Sylus - ngh - so sensitive ahh…”

He stops suddenly and you sigh, but then he lifts you and stands. He sits you down on the bed and crawls on top of you, you inch backwards on the bed until he grabs your hips to stop you. He sucks one of your nipples into his mouth and you grunt, the bud already overworked. You fist his sweater and tug, you feel the vibration of his laugh against your skin. He releases you for a moment to remove it, his bare chest rests on your stomach. His mouth continues to suck and lick at your nipples, the skin surrounding them and all along the space between. You glance down for just a moment to see your chest littered with marks. You roll your hips and Sylus groans. He hauls himself up and settles his elbows beside your head, his bare chest colliding with yours.

“You deserve to be worshiped, ravaged, feasted upon…”

He captures your lips with his and kisses you hard, his tongue slipping through your lips in an instant. His warmth seeps through you. You feel like you’re wrapped in a safety blanket.

“I am more than happy to remind you of that every day, until the end of time if I have to.”

You let out a strangled gasp, a tear slipping down your cheek. He kisses the tear away and presses more gentle kisses all over your face. You know you’ll still have days where you feel self-conscious, but you believe Sylus. He won’t let you forget how precious and desirable you are to him. And you can’t wait to watch him prove it every day, until the end of time.

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname

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kaisentine · 5 months ago

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i feel like kaiser just likes to show off his muscles like IDK it’s a feeling inside of me… it’s nagging at me, gnawing in my brain to write about it…..

you practically want to rip your eyes out because literally anything is better than seeing kaiser flexing his muscles.

whether it be accidental—like walking in on him while he is in-front of his ungodly-sized mirror (why does it need to be so big bro like CALM DOWN), or perhaps turning your head to see him subconsciously flex his arms while on his phone or he’s taking an unreasonable amount of pictures of them. your normal response is to stare for a good second before turning away with the look of second-hand embarrassment written all over your face.

or he willingly just shoves his biceps on your face—basically bragging about his strength. even worse when he shows you his left arm (which is almost every time he decides to harass you), his tattoo uneven as his muscles begin to form. and the most likely case of being flashed by his muscles would be him sending them over text—circling back to when you catch him taking pictures because that’s one of the reasons why he chooses to do so (other than just having them in his camera role for… keepsake).

“micha… please stop doing that.” you’re groaning out when he—once again—blocks your view from your phone with his arm. you try your best to look over it so you can get back to watching the video you were so invested in but he annoyingly moves it so all you can see is his biceps.

but i’m not not only talking about his arm muscles—his legs too.

they’re extremely hard not to look at, even when he isn’t even intentionally showing them to you. him being football player and all, you’d expect really nice legs and he does have that—and better. it’s not like it can’t get repetitive either though. because again, you still want to hide your eyes when he willingly does show you his legs.

“you’re going to crush my thighs.” you whine when kaiser thinks its so funny and so comfy to stretch his heavy calves onto your lap when he’s laying on your couch. splayed out without an inch of regret, not even bothering to look up from the book he’s reading and he only chuckles before going nonchalant again. what the fuck is wrong with this man.

you asked him numerous times why he does it (or why he does anything atp) and his response would always be a shrug.

his true answer is to show his authority. its a trait he can’t get rid of because he thinks if he doesn’t flex his strength—he’s going to be doubted again, he’s going to be taken advantage of again. even with you, he can’t stop the feeling of needing to show his strength, both mentally and physically. but of course he loves you, apart from showing his power, he just likes annoying you (with love)!

bonus : kaiser doesn’t flex his abs as much as he does the others because he knows you can feel them when he hugs you anyway. OK GOODNIGHT.

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eicsferrari · 5 months ago

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my dilemma - ln4 smau

summary: lando and yn have an on and off relationship. he's seen with another woman

inspired by: my dilemma - selena gomez

face claim: maia reficco

masterlist

f1rumors lando norris is caught with mysterious blonde after rumors of relationship with singer yn

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user5 oh lando

user8 i can't believe him

user2 i hope yn is ok :(

user23 can someone explain why everyone's mad?

user18 basically lando and yn have been dating (sort of on and off) for months. everyone knows it but they never confirmed anything and now this happened

ynupdates yn was spotted with friend and f1 driver oscar piastri. witnesses claim she was seen crying

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user9 i love their friendship they are always there for each other

user13 lando norris when i find you-

user1 noooo yn :(

user5 oscar next race hit him with your car

f1rumors: lando norris' mysterious girl has been found and her latest instagram dump includes this picture. fans are speculating this is lando, what do you think?

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user7 this is definitely him

user4 they both suck

user10 yn deserves better

yn my dilemma is out now

♡liked by iamrebeccad, alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmmundt, flavy.barla & others

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user3 SURPRISE DROP??

user16 "i heard the rumors but you won't come clean, i guess i'm hoping it's because of me" baby💔

user5 all the wags in the likes👀 this is serious

oscarpiastri so proud of you

yn ❤️

oscar→lando

yn posted a story

caption 🥰

yn thank u for your support🌹

♡liked by oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer, lando & others

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user62 streaming nonstop ♡liked by author

user17 the most beautiful girl in the world

user19 lando in the likes

user3 someone heard the song and knows he fucked up

alexandrasaintmleux my girl😍

yn 🥰

yn→lando

lando posted a story

caption 1 guess who won

replies

↪ francocolapinto if this is something cheesy-

↪ user7 IS THAT YN??

caption 2 i did❤️ tagged: yn

replies

↪ francocolapinto ffs

↪ oscarpiastri i'm watching you

↪user4 HARD LAUNCH

↪yn ❤️

ynupdates yn was seen on the paddock with lando norris

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user5 i.. didn't see this coming

user72 FINALLY

user2 he better have begged on his knees for another chance

user8 they look so cute together

lando posted a story

caption 1 good day at the office

caption 2 my good luck charm🧡

yn posted a story

caption 1 🤍

caption 2 wearing papaya for the day

caption 3 my winner🧡

yn don't embarrass me motherfucker (yes i made him beg)

tagged: lando

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lando 🛐🛐 ♡liked by author

user19 she's breathtaking

lando she is

user7 the last picture🥺 that's the princess treatment she deserves

charles_leclerc i can run him over with my car if you ever need me to

yn lol i'll keep it in mind

user8 i love how she's the paddock's protégé

user27 can lando fight?

lando yes👊🏼

oscarpiastri doesn't mean he will win

lando i could live without you but i don't wanna❤️

tagged: yn

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sweetiechenle · 4 months ago

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sleepyhead ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁.ᐟ mark

pairing: non-idol!collegestudent!mark x afab!collegestudent!reader

summary: your friend and classmate mark helps you out in class after accidentally sleeping in, but the hint of a scribble in the notes he lends you threatens to rewrite your relationship.

w.c: 7.2k

warnings: mdni 18+, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, it's all fluff with a dash of light angst, reader is oblivious to marks advances, but he's kinda dumb too, idiots in love, mutual pining, kissing, confessions, soft smut, love making literally, oral (f receiving), porn with plot, unprotected sex (dont do this), praising, pet names, soft!dom!top!mark (god i need him), crack/humor, lots of time skips im so sorry, if i forgot anything oh well lmk, i used this idea for a different fandom YEARS AGO, i am too embarrassed to admit what fandom but if you find it and think i'm stealing i am not. promise. reblogs and feedback appreciated ♡ fiction ≠ reality

you yawned big and loud, trying not to give yourself away too much, you kept your limbs from reaching outward. mark, your seatmate, and kind of friend?, gave you an inquisitive look. as if to ask if you were okay. truth be told, it was all rock bottom. papers upon papers, presentations, reading, and a lab took up all of your time this semester. you met Mark at the beginning of the year in your ‘major writings of the european tradition I’. you sat near the front because of your bad vision and the brown haired boy came next to you saying the famous ‘is this seat taken?’ line to which you said no. this left him to plop down in the said seat he pointed at. you studied him hard, clad in a semi-tight shirt and worn jeans, his white tube socks poking out once he sat down. it was hard not to notice the dirty and distressed black converse, probably wearing them every day since he could fit in them. he had a boyish grin when he turned to you and asked about how your day was going, you blushed noticing how handsome he actually is. his bright eyes shown under the fluorescent light as he now asked you about the book you were reading. ‘the picture of dorian gray’ sat atop all of your other books from various classes. it was apparently his favorite book too. his lips curled into the brightest smile, excitingly talking about his other favorite books and authors. it was endearingly cute.

you both shared socials in order to stay in touch in case either of you had questions about the class. you two would talk occasionally, keeping a calm distance. sharing literary memes on instagram, sending book recommendations on tiktok, or texting each other late at night when one couldn’t sleep. you would periodically meet up with him to study, or whenever you were too tired to read whatever was assigned in class, mark would read it for you out loud in the comfort of his apartment. it was easy to consider him a friend. at the end of the semester you told him you signed up for major writings of the european tradition II. he pumped his fist in the air earning small giggles from you due to his overreaction. telling you how happy he was that you’d be in the same class again. that’s where you are now, with mark still sitting next to you, listening to the same boring more advanced lecture. you loved literature and being an english major, but sometimes you don't know how many more reading and analysis’ you can take of the odyssey.

glancing at the clock you sighed, an hour left of class. pain was all you knew at this moment, you underslept last night, working on an essay for a speech writing class, trying to get it all down perfectly in order to impress your professor. you didn’t realize it was well past three in the morning when you finally had finished, all you wanted to do right now was go back to your apartment and nap until your next class in four hours. you drowned out the professor and whatever was being said about odysseus and what he got himself into this time. placing your chin on your closed fist, your vision drifting in and out of blurriness, and before you knew it you fell asleep. you gasped when mark nudged you awaken eyes going wide in surprise making him laugh a little bit.

‘dude, you fell asleep, class is over y/n’ mark said once you looked over at him, still in his seat next to you, almost everyone had already left.

you sighed running your fingers through your already messy hair, ‘ugh, i’m sorry, i didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.’

mark laughed, ‘oh, i can tell’

you scowled at him, earning another laugh from the taller man as you both stood up. at least it was friday, and you’d have the whole weekend to catch up on homework, and sleep. ‘want to go get coffee since you’re such a sleepyhead? need to keep you awake somehow’ mark asked, scratching the back of his neck, nervously rocking back and forth. you smiled at how red his ears were, waiting for your response. when you first met, he would occasionally get nervous around you, to which you never knew why, never thinking of yourself as anything special. but you noticed he got anxious around almost everyone after first meeting people. much like yourself, after a while mark started to get more comfortable with you, becoming more confident, and increasingly charming, however he could never hide the facade he tried to put on when asking to hang out outside of class. he would suddenly become a meek and shy, not the confident, outspoken boy you saw almost every day.

‘yes, that would be perfect’ you answered, ‘caffeine is much needed right now’ mark smiled and led you to the open door of the classroom, motioning you to go through first. it was pretty pathetic when butterflies erupted in your stomach, standards weren’t high for you, obviously, the smallest gesture from mark made you turn to putty. you didn’t have a lot of relationship experience, most of the time boys would lead you on, only to tell you they were never ready for anything. only a few longer relationships would end up in flames, men too toxic for you to continue on any longer. every time, earning a vow from you that you would never talk to another boy ever again. you could tell mark was different from anyone you had ever met, he was genuinely sweet and always helped whenever he could, profusely apologizing when he was too busy to come and help you study. you’ve always liked mark more than you should, it was really hard not to, anytime you ever talked about mark to anyone else, only nice things were discussed. you would never admit to harbored feelings for him, he was lovely to everyone, how could you be any different?

after a while, he started walking in front of you to the coffee shop on campus, stealing glancing at you just to make sure you were still following him, making your heart ache so hard the caffeine you were about to consume would probably kill you. entering the coffee shop turned your tired state into total bliss, a welcome and much needed break. ‘oh! there’s johnny, let’s go sit with him’ mark exclaimed, grabbing your hand and pulling you near the table in the back. before you knew it, a tall man with raven black hair was standing up and greeting you and mark. he was older than you and mark, a senior that your friend had met during his freshman year of college. you had met johnny before, a handful of times, and for brief moments. mark would always talk about his other friends with you. he’d tell you that ‘you just have to meet them’, but whenever the time would come it would be short meetings, a hi and bye.

mark brought out your chair and gestured for you to sit down, saying that he would go order you both coffees, leaving you with johnny. he turned to you and smiled, to which you returned, trying to register what mark had just done for you. god you really need to get higher standards, hard albeit mark being your standard. johnny asked you about school and how you are doing with all of it, you asked him similar questions, watching mark disappear in the line for coffee. you didn’t notice johnny calling your name over and over, only when he had gotten up close and personal in order to get your attention. you jumped slightly after the fifth ‘y/n!’

you quickly looked over at him, calming him down, ‘jesus y/n, where did you go? staring at mark? i know he’s pretty but-’

you cut him off, ‘would you keep your voice down!? i wasn’t staring at mark, i was just thinking…’ it was hard to keep the blush from creeping up and having it wash over you like a tsunami.

johnny gave you a knowing look, ‘... thinking about mark’

you glared at him, ‘can we stop talking about mark, please’ desperate to leave this conversation behind, but speak of the devil and he shall appear.

‘why are we talking about mark?’ you and johnny whipped your heads up in surprise, mark standing there with a grin on his handsome, stupid face. holding two coffee cups in each hand, asking in the third person as to why you were both discussing him while he was away.

‘n-nothing, we were just talking about our english class’ you explained quickly trying to save yourself from embarrassment.

johnny just nodded while mark, handed you your coffee and sat down, joining you both at the table in extreme awkward silence. mark broke the ice, ‘y/n fell asleep in class today’ he smirked and looked your way, catching your reaction of groaning and hiding behind your small coffee cup as you took little sips.

johnny laughed along with mark, wishing that the ground would open you up and swallow you whole, ‘it was so funny, the professor didn’t even notice!’ the older boy laughed along with his friend at your plight to fall asleep so easily in class. ‘you even snored a little bit, oh my god, it was so cute!’ he squealed. CUTE!? your eyes went wide, ignoring the embarrassing part about snoring in class. mark called you cute. johnny turned to give you that knowing look again, this caffeine was definitely going to give you a heart attack. this was going to be a long weekend.

monday morning rolled around, the weekend was spent writing papers, reading epic poetry, and sleeping. and also the occasional mental breakdown when you recall that mark called you cute. sunshine hit your face, and that’s when you figured you couldn’t stay in bed any longer. you rubbed your eyes hard and stretched your body out in bed, dreading the fact that you’ll have to get yourself up and ready to learn about some new epic now that the lesson over the odyssey was over. you grabbed your phone from the nightstand, your bones practically jumping out of your body when you realized you had only an hour left of class. you had overslept and missed the first hour of class, fuck. you hurried to get ready, not giving any mind to your appearance, jeans, and a hoodie would do. you texted mark ‘i overslept ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡), just woke up, i’ll be there soon. my chair still open?’ closing the door to your apartment, you marched out into the warm weather, mentally preparing yourself for the embarrassment you were about to face once you walked into class late. eyes peeled to your phone, the delivered immediately turned into read, mark texted back ‘always, sleepyhead’ you rolled your eyes, too much in a rush to get flustered by the nickname this time, shoving the phone in your pocket you continued walking to the humanities building.

you slipped in through the door in the back, making sure it wouldn’t slam shut, praying to any god who would listen to not get called out. thankfully, your prayers were answered, no one said a thing for the rest of class, only mark who gave you a smile once you sat down. you were lost the entire rest of class, the professor going into depth about the cantos and then switching very rapidly to beowulf then to dante’s inferno. maybe you should’ve stayed home. once class ended, mark started putting everything in his backpack, grabbing his wrist to stop him, he turned towards you with his eyebrows up in question and surprise.

‘can i borrow your notes mark? please? i literally had no idea what was going on since i was late’ you were practically begging at this point, but before you could grow any more desperate, mark chuckled and handed you his notebook for this class that continued to lay on the table.

‘i guess you beat me to it, why do you think i left my notebook out?’ mark smiled and handed you the red, worn out notebook. you let out a thankful sigh, some weight lifting off your shoulders, your standards were fucked by now.

‘thank you so much mark, i really owe you one, i’ll have it back to you by tomorrow.’ you reassured, giving him a genuine, thankful smile.

later that evening, back at your apartment, you took mark’s notebook out from your backpack. you had finished all the work for the classes you did attend today and now it was time to move on to the bane of your existence. opening up his notebook to find the most recent entry, your eyes finally landed on notes about dante’s inferno and whatever gibberish the professor was spewing when you showed up. reading about the layers of hell and how it has to do with the other epic’s was further explained by mark in his notes. flipping the page, your eyes caught something in the corner. taking a closer look, you sat up from the couch and moved towards the light. you gasped upon seeing what was written, erased, and written and erased again over the left side of the page. poorly drawn hearts with the words ‘sleepyhead’ written inside littered the far left corner of mark’s notes. this surely wasn’t about you… could it? you singled out the piece of paper, moving it into the light in order to see through it, double-checking your suspicions. and sure enough, there they were clear as day. it looked as though mark drew them on the paper and had tried his hardest to erase them, yet still somewhat visible, you didn’t have four eyes for nothing after all. ‘fuck’ you cursed out, staring at the faded drawing and words. this was your own personal inferno.

the next day was like no other, barely any sleep and when you woke on time you contemplated not going at all. however, you promised you’d bring mark his cursed notebook back. the very notebook that had been plaguing your mind since you discovered its hidden contents last night. that's what kept you up so late, you couldn’t simply forget about it and let it go. you debated asking him about it, but if it had nothing to do with you, then you’d probably have to change your name, face, and leave the country all together. but after all how many people did he call ‘sleepyhead’… probably 5, max. you had to investigate, test the waters and see what this was truly all about. you had to come up with a plan.

you got up and started walking around your room, getting ready, you put a lot more effort into your outfit, jean shorts and a cute baby t-shirt you think would catch any person’s attention. walking to class, it was brisk, the wind nipping at your arms and legs. you shuddered, bringing your hands up and down in order to try to redistribute your warmth. you finally got to class and the nervousness had taken over your system, totally forgetting about the cold and now terrified to face your friend. your body shook, shuffling to your seat, seeing mark on his phone waiting for class to start. you let out a tense breath, trying to settle your uneasy heart and stomach. you pulled out the chair, startling the boy next to you, his soft hair jumping slightly and moving away from his face, his eyes shining up at you. his mouth curls into a smile, going from ear to ear, it was infectious, you gave him a small smile back despite your stomach churning in the worst way possible.

‘you finally decided to come to class on time’ he joked, poking your shoulder lightly.

you playfully rolled your eyes at him, getting everything out for class ‘i barely even slept last night, i closed my eyes, and then boom my alarm was going off…’

mark’s smile faltered and eventually dropped upon hearing your confession of getting little sleep. ‘by the way,’ you grabbed the wretched notebook from your bag, handing it to mark, ‘here’s your notebook back, the notes really helped, thank you’

mark took it from your hand, ‘it’s no problem, if you need any more you can always ask’

you smiled, and turned towards the front of the class as soon as the professor walked in. putting any thoughts of mark in the back of your mind and bringing forth your plan. every once in a while you could arrive late, it's not like you’d be penalized for missing class, your professor never took notice. it would just be on you if you never showed up and somehow failed the semester. but with marks help, there was no way you could fall that far behind.

over the next couple of days, you and mark would hang out sporadically, studying together or watching movies. after a couple of days, you finally decided it would be time to try and be late to class again. to be fair, you had an essay to start that was due in two days, so staying up and working on it and accidentally sleeping in would be the perfect excuse. silently hoping this wasn’t going to come back and bite you in the ass.

flash forward to the next day: it did. you woke up with only 30 minutes left of class, less than what you originally wanted. thankfully, you did finish the cursed essay at four in the morning, you woke up to your alarm blaring, not even realizing how many times you snoozed it. grabbing your phone from the night stand you stretched and got up, getting changed for class and heading out.

opening up your messages you internally groaned, seeing about five messages from mark reading:

‘dude, where are you??’

‘no way you overslept again( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)⁭’

‘don’t worry sleepyhead, i’m taking notes for you’

‘also, the professor mentioned a project and let us pick partners’

‘i told her you were my partner .. if that’s okay •⩊•’

you squealed into your hoodie sleeve, trying to keep a hold on yourself, but this was too much, the cute aggression getting to you so bad you punched the air. after getting some weird looks you hurried to class, slipping through the big double doors you immediately spotted the brown haired boy, silently cheering that no one was sitting with him you moved towards him and your seat. once you made yourself known to his presence, he gave you a small smile that made your heart crescendo, brought on by the growing feeling of love coming to a climax.

‘hey’ he whispered beside you, keeping his eyes on the professor who continued to lecture.

‘hey’ you answered back.

‘late again?’ he tsked, shaking his head slightly, ‘what am i gonna do with you?’

your hand covered your mouth, trying to hold back a giggle, ‘i stayed up later than i should’ve last night, i had an essay to finish’

‘oh, of course,’ he slide his notebook to you, ‘i got some notes for you about today’s lecture and about the project. we should plan on when to meet up to work on it… the professor has been ranting about plato for the last hour, so you haven’t missed much’

you nodded and grabbed his notebook and slid it into your backpack, trying not to show much nervousness over such a simple gesture. once class ended mark turned to you.

‘i have to meet with johnny, so i’ll catch you later’ you nodded and he smiled, his lopsided lips curling up complimented his boyish charm, making your insides twist and turn. ‘i’ll text you later about the project’

he moved to grab his backpack from the floor, without thinking you grabbed his shoulder softly, he whipped his head around, eyes now wide from the sudden touch, backpack forgotten. ‘uh-h, ha-ave a good day mark’ you said, giving him an innocent smile. his features immediately softened, that tender smile coming back on his lips.

you let go, watching him stand up from his seat, now staring up at his gorgeous face, ‘you too, pillow poet’

the new nickname felt like whiplash, like a 20 car pile up in your heart, every emotion crashing into each other, hard to make it out alive. glued to your seat, you stared at nothing now, the ghost of where mark once stood. you didn’t move until your professor knocked on your desk, promptly telling you to get the hell out.

later that night you had to build up the courage to actually open up mark’s notebook this time, his texts blowing up your phone going left unanswered. your roommate, yeri, had came back from class and asked why the hell you were staring at a closed notebook on the coffee table in the shared living room.

you sighed, ‘its complicated’

she dropped her bag and deadpanned, lips formed into a straight line as she rolled her eyes, ‘its a notebook’

you dropped your head into your hands, admitting defeat, ‘it’s not about the notebook,’ you sighed dramatically, pouting, ‘it’s about what’s inside…’

yeri gave you another eye roll and moved towards you, grabbing the notebook from the coffee table, she opened it and started flipping through the different pages, you looked up after hearing the rustling of pages, ‘it’s just notes!’ she cried.

you groaned and stood up, now facing her. you grabbed the notebook out of her hands, you found the most recent section of notes and scanned the pages, chest beating profusely. you stopped once you finally found what your heart was searching for, half erased hearts with various words inside, you took the page closer to the light on the ceiling.

‘sleepyhead’ ‘cutie’ ‘bedbug’ okay, not that cute, but the sentiment was still present.

yeri, now questioning if you really had lost it or not, grew concerned. ‘what is it?’ she moved closer to you, trying to decipher what it was you were so intently looking at. you grabbed her by the arm and brought her closer to you, nodding up to where you were holding the paper in the light, ‘look’.

‘y/n, what the hell am i looking at? stop being weird, it’s freaking me out’ she pouted and took a closer look.

‘mark…’ you trailed off, ‘i found them last week, i asked to borrow his notes because i was late to class, and he drew all these things and looked like he tried to erase them… i don’t know, oh my god, i sound crazy’ you handed the notebook to her and went to sit on the couch again and grovel.

yeri stood near the light, doing the same thing you were and tried to find what you were talking about, ‘oh’ she said, lowering the notebook and moving over to you, ‘do you think these are about you?’

‘i don’t know, if they were don’t you think he would be trying to hide it better? but how many people does he know that are late to class and oversleep!?’ you cried.

yeri’s eyebrows crease in deep thought, then it hits her, ‘maybe… he wanted you to find them’

‘why couldn’t he just tell me all of this himself?’ you questioned, second-guessing everything.

‘i’ve only met mark a handful of times and let me tell you,’ she placed her hand on your shoulder, ‘he is the most awkward person, ever, this could just be his way of flirting’

you didn’t say anything and continued to stare at your roommate, still standing with mark’s notebook. ‘you should talk to him about it’ she said, you stood up abruptly, eyes going wide.

‘no way dude, i can’t’ you tried justifying yourself but yeri cut you off.

‘ugh’ she groaned, ‘i forgot you are almost as awkward as he is, you like him though, don’t you?’ you gave her a little nod, embarrassed by the sudden interrogation. ‘next time you see him, just ask him about it, the worst thing he can do is say no and you both move on with your life, just a little misunderstanding’

you sighed and nodded again, agreeing to ask him about it so yeri would get off your back. you grabbed your phone, knowing mark had texted you earlier you finally decided to bite the bullet and answer him. four messages from mark went unread:

‘y/n, will you be free tomorrow to work on the project?’

‘y/nnn where did you go, i know you are awake’

‘or are you? smh, damn sleepyhead’ your mind screamed ‘AGAIN WITH THE NICKNAMES’

‘u better not be late tomorrow, i can only take so much european writing without you ( •̀ - •́ )’

you wrote and deleted your message to him about ten times before settling on a basic:

‘sorry mark! i (surprisingly) did not fall asleep, just talking with my roommate, i should be free tomorrow to start the project („• ֊ •„)’

three text bubbles popped up and he immediately texted back

‘gr8, c u tomorrow, get some rest’

the next day was an off day from classes, you and mark had discussed meeting somewhere in the library. but that would hinder you from asking him about his little drawings so you told him to come to your apartment, perfect knowing yeri would not be there. yet, it was as imperfect as perfect could get, the setting would be right, but your thoughts were all over the place. not planning out how this could go, most, if not all of your ‘plans’ were half-assed. you’d just have to wing it this one time.

mark showed up when he said he would, which was exactly a mark thing to do, you were just unprepared. stressing out as the minutes counted down, you opened the door and let him inside, he smiled and walked towards the couch, placing his things on the coffee table. ‘shall we get started?’ mark said, motioning for you to sit down next to him.

‘so, the project is over any story of our choosing, did you have one in mind?’ he asked, turning towards you on the couch. fuck, he was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your cheek, it smelled like mint and coffee.

‘oh yeah, i thought we could do icarus’ you answered, hoping he would agree, the story just hitting a little too close to home right now. in a sense, mark was your sun, and you were icarus, flying a bit too close every time you were near him. getting burned with reaching to conclusions that he actually liked you, getting your hopes up that he felt the same way, hoping to not fall to your death and lose him as a friend if this all was just a misunderstanding.

‘that's a great idea! i think we should be able to get through this project quickly with all the information we can get on the story’ he beamed, and you smiled back, slightly faltering from the nervousness running through your body.

‘are you okay? you seem out of it…’ he asked, more so concerned with you than the project.

you sighed, terrible at keeping your emotions from coming out, mark took notice to your anxious behavior. it was now or never. ‘mark’ you said his name like you both were already in a relationship and about to give him the ‘we need to break up talk’, you could tell he felt the exact same when he started fidgeting beside you. ‘can i ask you about something?’

‘of course, anything’ he answered, voice wavering in concern. you knew he was staring but you couldn’t even bring yourself to look anywhere in his direction, fearing that if you did, you would chicken out. you mentally screamed at yourself to stop and not do anything to jeopardize your friendship with mark. you had to remind yourself ‘the worst he could do is say no’.

‘oh, by the way, i forgot to ask, do you have my notebook?’ you could tell mark was trying to ease the tension, but because of the mention of that damn notebook, it only made it worse.

‘yeah about that…’ you started, having no idea how to ask about this, ‘i uh, wanted to ask you about something i saw in your notebook…’

mark, tilted his head to the side in confusion, ‘like some of the notes i left? i tried to be as thorough as i could…’

you picked at the skin on your fingers, ripping away the flesh in order to try and calm yourself down, ‘erm, no, something else i saw… some, um, drawings…’ you wished for nothing but this couch to swallow you whole and never spit you back out. you couldn’t tell what mark’s reaction was since you refused to look at him, but the silence gave you more answers than what you initially asked.

you peeked to the side, mark now had his head in his hands, rubbing his temple, cheeks dusted pink, you knew you caught him in something. ‘dude… this is so embarrassing’ he laughed. you didn’t say anything in response, just wanting him to continue explaining himself. ‘i thought i erased those, oh my god. how much did you see?’ he asked.

‘i think almost all of them…’ you rubbed the back of your neck, picking at the hair back there.

‘oh’ he said, his mouth turning into a perfect o. ‘that was not the way i wanted to tell you’ mark stated, still acting shy next to you. if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack, it would’ve been endearing.

‘tell me what?’ you whispered, turning away from him so he wouldn’t notice the pink dusting over your cheeks.

mark stared at you, now sitting up and his shoulders straight, ‘that um, that i like you’ he said, ‘i don’t know i got bored in class and doodled in my notes, after i realized how stupid and cheesy it felt i erased them and tried to forget… guess i didn’t erase them hard enough’ he smiled at the memories of it all. ‘i wanted to tell you, but i didn’t know how to go about it, i’m not good at things like this, i don’t know, confessing i guess… i wasn’t sure if you felt the same, so that’s why every time i tried to tell you i liked you, my plans always fell through’

mark grabbed your shoulders and lightly forced you to face him, taken back by surprise your ears grew hot, now staring into his eyes he smiled, ‘but you’re here now and asking about my lovesick doodles, and i want to tell you… that i like you… i like you so much y/n, studying with you and being with you in class and outside of class, you are cute, funny, caring, and you work so hard for your classes i wish i had the will to stay up at ungodly hours to finish any of my essays, we like the same books and we talk about the nerdiest stuff no one else would… i think you’re perfect’. he stopped, his eyes looking into yours trying to search for any reaction, he looked desperate. ‘sorry, i, uh, got a little carried away there’ he cheeks bloomed into a deep red.

‘mark’ you felt wetness pool at the base of your eyes and roll down your cheeks, not even realizing you were crying mark reached out and whipped the tears away with his thumb. ‘i really like you too… that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me i-’ he cut you off, throwing himself onto you in a huge bear hug, making your back crash into the couch due to the weight now on you.

he got up, now hovering over you, he stared deeply into your eyes, ‘y/n… i want us to be a couple or something? whatever you are comfortable with, i want to be able to read you any stupid 100 year old story any time you’ll let me’

your eyes softened, gazing into his it was like a thousand stars shining in the night sky, you could see and feel every emotion he was talking about. pure love. there was no doubt, no sun to scorch your waxed wings, withstanding fear and questioning. with him you could now fly as far as he would take you.

‘oh mark’ you said breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck, yanking him down so his lips could meet yours. it took a second for him to realize what was happening, but soon enough he was moving his lips in synch with yours. his hand still placed next to your head, holding himself up, as his other one moved to your face to lightly caress your cheek. after a minute or two, you could barely breathe, so you broke the kiss in order to regulate your breathing. you look up at mark, who continued to stare at your lips, ‘mark, you’re the one who is perfect’

this time he initiated the kiss, putting his body weight more on you, his hand now moving to explore your body further, you could tell mark was excited as you could feel his bulge on your thigh. his tongue licked over your lips, silently asking for access, which you granted immediately, letting your tongue slip into his mouth, tasting the mint and coffee that he had previously consumed.

‘mark’ you whispered, lust overclouding your senses, ‘i want you’

mark audibly groaned, your words obviously having a certain effect on him as he pushed his hips into yours making you moan in response. he kissed your lips again, moving onto your neck, sucking brusies into the sensitive skin there. mark got off of you and sat up, removing his shirt to which you followed, throwing the clothing somewhere on the floor. going back into position, mark kissed your chest, grazing your breast that was still covered by your bra. he didn’t mind, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible, that was until you decided to take it off anyways, throwing it somewhere over your shoulder. mark went back to work, sucking on one nipple, while twirling and pinching the other between his fingers, earning moans from you.

mark suddenly stopped, lifting his head to look at you, ‘do you want to go further?’ he asked sincerely.

‘yes, mark, please’ you breathed, curling your fingers around his broad shoulders, lightly bringing him back towards your chest. he chuckled at your eagerness, peppering kisses down your stomach, finally reaching your buttoned up jeans. ‘can i take these off?’ you nodded, he unbuttoned your jeans and yanked them down and off, leaving them on the floor with the rest of the clothes. he could see the wet patch that formed in your underwear, earning a moan from the boy on top of you. mark ghosted over the spot with his finger, making you twitch in response due to the light, yet scandalous action.

he slid your underwear off, leaving them somewhere on the couch. you watched him silently as he stared at your core, looking like a man who had been without water for at least a century. he dove in, licking a strip up your pussy, making you moan out in response. mark continued to lightly suck, adding a finger into the mix. he slowly pushed it inside your opening, wetness gathering at the base of his finger, ‘you taste… it’s perfect… you’re perfect’ he whispered, gazing up into your glossy eyes, overtaken by craving him. he added a second finger, stretching you out. ‘mark…’ you groaned, feeling him hit the sweet spot inside of you made your head spin and insides twist. ‘i’m gonna come…’

‘not yet’ he whispered, he exited your core, earning a whimper from you due to the sudden loss, ‘don’t worry, i’ll take care of you’ he kissed your cheek, standing up from the couch in order to take his own pants off. you could see his member throbbing inside his briefs, you swore you almost started drooling. mark came back down to lay on top of you, kissing you again, more sensibly, softly, slowly. savoring the moment with you, the delicate and gentle touches almost making you cry again from just how sweet he was, how much he showed that he cared about you.

he broke the kiss, you stared into his eyes, caressing his cheek gently, mark melted into your touch, closing his eyes and burying his face closer to your grasp. ‘you are so beautiful’ you stated to him. his skin kissed by the sun, the features adorning his face; making up gorgeous art on a blank canvas that someone like da vinci would be furious not to know of such beauty.

‘do you want to keep going? we don’t have to if you don’t want to, i want to take my time with you, with us…’ he explained.

you cut him off with a peck to his lips, making his smile grow wider, ‘yes, i want to if you do… i feel the same way’ he kissed you, much like you did with him, confirming his feelings yet again.

he slid off his briefs, leaving you both fully naked in each other's presence, since the sun had started to set when mark came over the only light provided was the soft glow of the lamp behind you on the side table, making the sweat that graced his chest shine. ‘if you get uncomfortable please let me know and i’ll stop’ he whispered, you nodded in response, heartbeat picking up due to his kindness. he sighed and carefully lined his member up with your entrance, the shakiness of his hands having him try a couple of times to get it in, you could tell he was nervous.

he slowly pushed inside, giving you ample time to adjust, ‘that’s it’ he breathed in your ear once fully inside, ‘fuck you’re so tight… so perfect’ you moaned at his words, digging so far deep into you and leaving many traces in your mind, words you’d never forget. he readjusts your legs, giving him deep access into your womb, now in a missionary position. mark started moving, slowly thrusting into you at first, you wrapped your legs around his back, trying to keep him as close as possible, which he didn’t seem to mind. his lips moved to yours, the simple kisses shared spoke volumes-no hesitation, the pastel feeling of everything you both never said to each other, lost on fleeting glances in class, heart doodles on paper, and the way he would read to you without argument, buying you coffee, smiling whenever you’d enter the room. the soft kisses subdued any fear you held over this relationship. you loved him.

mark occasionally groaned into your mouth, and in return you moaned, sharing sounds and soft touches over each other's body. ‘you’re taking me so well like you were made for me. fuuck’ he keened at the way you held him inside. he started moving faster, but still acting as careful as ever with you. his hips snapped down on yours, earning strained grunts from you, head spinning as he continued to hit your sweet spot in all the right ways. ‘y/n’ mark moaned, ‘i-i love you’. you cried, the barrier breaking open the flood waters, you silently shed tears into his shoulder, the hot tears running down his arm and chest. ‘i always have, e-ever since i met you’ his trusts started growing erratic, faster, snapping his hips into yours with a force that had you seeing stars. you could barely comprehend any type of language at this point. you were about to reach your breaking point, feeling the heat collect at the bottom of your abdomen, the rope you were holding onto ready to snap.

mark seemed to take notice due to your internal struggle of letting go, mumbling in your ear about a bunch of different phrases. ‘it’s okay baby, you can let go’ and ‘come for me’, it was at the point where he whispered ‘i got you love, i got you�� you felt yourself starting to slip from the rope, letting go and the rope snapped, letting it all out and moaning out marks name, locking your eyes on his. your toes curled, body threatening to collapse in on itself like a black hole with mark at the event horizon, wanting to suck him in.

as you tightened around him, his thrust grew more sporadic, out of rhythm, trying to catch his own release now. with one last thrust, he stilled and emptied into your womb, you could feel how deep he was and the hotness of his come filling you up so perfectly. mark panted, overcoming the mountain of exhaustion after reaching his peak. his forehead fell onto yours as you also tried catching your breath. mark smiled down at you, love filling his eyes, adoration shining in yours. ‘you’ he started, regulating his words to come out more clearly, ‘you are part of my existence, part of myself. you have been in every line i have ever read’

you playfully rolled your eyes, the audacity of this english major, ‘you did not just quote charles dickens while balls deep inside of me’

he laughed, as if that was a queue to pull out, mark left his place inside of you and went to the bathroom, returning with a damp wash cloth in order to clean you up. gently whipping you down, after he threw the towel into the laundry room. mark picked you up and walked you to your room, slowly slipping you into some fresh new clothes, while he put on clothes that yeri kept at the apartment for her boyfriend. surely she wouldn’t mind.

you both climbed into bed, eyelids growing heavy he held you in his arms, head resting against his chest in the quiet darkness, ‘mark’ you said, voice small, he hummed, ‘i love you too’

‘sleep in tomorrow, i’ll still be here’ he answered.

eyes crusted over and limbs numb, that was probably the best sleep of your life. you reached over to marks side of the bed, but it was empty, and you frowned. he said he would be here. you stretched and got up, slowly making your way towards the door, you opened it to an empty living room. you heard a sudden, but low crash of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. you walked slowly, not really knowing what to expect. but alas, speak of the muse, and he shall appear in the lines, your (now) boyfriend, mark, stood in front of the oven with a spatula in hand, flipping a pancake.

in the stillness of the afternoon, you didn’t make your presence yet known, and watched as he worked. the glow of the sun and the kitchen light reflected off of his hair ever so slightly, making it shine, it was as if only you two existed. he turned and smiled like he always did, ‘good morning sleepyhead’

1K notes · View notes

cosmicmunsonwrites · 4 months ago

Note

can you make one where rafe showed his friends a private pic between and reader and she gets all pissed

do you think i deserved it all?

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — explicit picture, manipulation, gaslighting

summary — you overhear your boyfriend and his friends talking abt a certain photo.

authors note — i’m writing with nails so this may have some typos but please ignore that. this can be read as a standalone but is apart of my mean!rafe series that is listed in order on my rafe masterlist under au's. if you guys have any longer requests, please send em in so i can make these a little more detailed cause my creativity is not flowing for some reason.

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

you weren't paying attention at all to what was going on around you. rafe, topper, and kelce always talked about stuff you couldn't care less about and that is exactly what they were doing now. the four of you were sat in the living room of the thornton mansion on the couches. your boyfriend was sitting beside you with your feet in his lap as you laid across the soft cushions and his friends were sat across from you two on the other one.

you were currently just mindlessly scrolling through instagram as you plotted your next post. you could faintly hear the boys talking about a variety of things along with the tv playing in the background. you sighed in annoyance when you couldn't find enough pictures and decided you'd be needing to go take some more. you swiped out of the app and began listening to whatever rafe was saying so you could let him know that you'd be needing a photoshoot soon.

"you guys gotta see this shit," he said as he scrolled on his phone and sat up a little straighter. "it's like fuckin' heaven, i'm tellin' you. 'nd she just doesn't care. none of those tantrums about privacy and all that other bullshit. i do whatever i want with 'em."

he leaned forward to show the two whatever he'd pulled up on his phone and their jaws immediately dropped. "holy shit, dude," topper mumbled, completely mesmerized by the screen.

kelce had the same look, leaning in a little to get a better look. "goddamn man. you got her all to yourself?"

your ears perked up at that and you shut your phone off, eyeing rafe wearily. "all mine," he stated with a smug grin. "i've got hundreds jus' sitting in this album. they just keep gettin' better every time i add one."

you felt your heart drop to your stomach and bile begin to rise in your throat. "you're one lucky son of a bitch," topper said with a laugh before sticking his hand up for a high five. "i'll be right back. y'all want any drinks or anything."

rafe looked at you momentarily. "jus' water," he replied, knowing you didn't care for anything else too much.

"i'll take a beer," kelce said while standing along with the blonde. "i gotta take a piss. be back in a minute."

topper let out a hearty laugh and slapped him on the back playfully. "yeah right."

as soon as the two left, you were quickly crawling over to rafe and snatching his phone from his hands. "what the fuck is your problem?" he snapped.

you stared down at it in shock. it was a picture of you from a few nights ago. one taken from a higher angle with your ass propped up in the air, you hair disheveled all across the pillows, your hands gripping onto the sheets by your head, and his cum coating your cheeks and mid-back.

your lip began to tremble and you dropped the phone into his lap rudely. "are you serious? why would you show that to them? do you know how embarrassing that is?"

he laughed. genuinely laughed in your face. "are you serious? it's not that big of a deal. you always blow things like this way out of proportion. you say you want me to show you off and shit and now you're pissed when i do?"

"i didn't mean in a disgusting way," you spat back. "i didn't expect you to go show off a vulnerable picture of me and have you and your friends talk about me like and object as if i'm not sitting right here!"

you could see the frustration building inside of him. he grabbed your wrist harshly and used it to pull you closer to him. "don't you dare fuckin' talk to me like that. before you ever even think about raising your voice at me again, think about who runs this shit, alright? cause it sure as hell isn't you. just remember, i wasn't the one begging for a chance, you understand me?"

a deep red blush creeped up your neck and onto your cheeks out of embarrassment. "I didn't mean it like that rafe," you said quietly. you didn't like when he was mad at you and you definitely didn't want him to leave you. "i'm sorry, i wasn't thinking."

"thats what i thought," he said cockily as he let go of your wrist. "you think i was gonna make a cute little instagram post or somethin'? that what you wanted?"

yes. it was. it was what you were dreaming of. but you knew better than to upset rafe. you were meant to say what he wanted to hear in times like this. you began to convince yourself that maybe he was actually right. maybe it was better this way. "no. i don't want that."

he smiled and chuckled. "good," he replied. “now get your shoes on and get your ass to the car."

your brows furrowed in confusion. you had only been here for and hour or two. "but rafe--"

"do i need to repeat myself?" he was pissed. you didn't need to hear anything else to know that. "get in the fucking car. we're gonna go home and you're gonna sleep off this bratty fuckin' attitude. then when you get up, you're gonna drop all this bullshit and apologize to me the right way. got it?"

you nodded shyly and began to move quickly to find your shoes. you were in for a long, exhausting night.

#gracies asks and requests 💌#gracie writes rafe cameron 🌺#rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks rafe #obx #outer banks #rafe obx

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godricgryffinsnore · 2 months ago

Text

The Photo In His Wallet ♡ : A Sirius Black Fan Fiction.

pairing : Sirius Black x female!reader

summary : When a picture of his girl falls out of Sirius Black’s wallet, Remus and James seize the opportunity of a lifetime—and Sirius? Well, he doesn’t go down without screaming. And you? You grab the perfect opportunity to tease the shit out of him.

warnings : Fluff overload, Secondhand embarrassment, Sirius Black being a hopeless romantic (and dramatic menace), Mischievous Marauder teasing, Mentions of laminated photos, Light language and chaotic energy, Excessive cuteness and mutual pining. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

word count : 2k

main master list <3

banners : @uzmacchiato and @cafekitsune

It started with a perfectly innocent game of Exploding Snap.

At least, that’s what Sirius would tell you later, when he’s lying across your lap dramatically, whispering about “the betrayal of brotherhood” and how “even James turned on me, my dearest heart, the pain—the agony—you can’t possibly understand.”

In reality, it started with Sirius refusing to lose.

“Just give it up, mate,” Remus said, smirking as he laid down a perfect pair. “You’ve only got two cards left, and I can see the panic in your eyes.”

“I never panic,” Sirius huffed, slapping a card down with such force that it ricocheted off the table and nearly set Peter’s sleeve on fire. “I’m Sirius Black. I am the panic.”

James raised an eyebrow. “You okay, Pads? You’ve been weird ever since we got back from Hogsmeade yesterday. You’re not still swooning over her in that new dress, are you?”

Sirius went very still. “I wasn’t swooning. I was… appreciating.”

“You tripped over a display of pumpkin pasties because you were too busy staring at her,” Remus added helpfully.

“Pumpkin pasties are a hazard to us all,” Sirius replied solemnly.

They all laughed, Sirius included. And just when things seemed like they’d settle into a normal rhythm again, Sirius pulled out his wallet to settle a bet—and that was the moment. The moment the earth stopped spinning.

Something fluttered to the floor. James bent down to pick it up.

And then… the silence.

It was too quiet. Dangerously quiet.

James stood slowly, holding something between two fingers. “Sirius.”

Sirius blinked. “Yes?”

“What is this?”

Remus leaned over. His face split into a slow, delighted grin. “Oh, no.”

“No, no, give it back, give it back right now—”

Because in James Potter’s hand was a photograph. A small, well-worn Polaroid of you sitting in the Gryffindor common room. Your legs were tucked beneath you, hair spilling over your shoulders, and you were laughing—at something Sirius had said, no doubt, because the way your eyes sparkled was the same way he looked at you.

And worst of all? In the photo, Sirius was next to you, mid-way through tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

You both looked… soft.

Dangerously, disgustingly soft.

James’ jaw dropped. “You CARRY THIS with you?!”

“It’s laminated,” Remus added, peering closer. “Oh my Godric, did you laminate it?”

“FOR PROTECTION!” Sirius yelped, leaping across the table with the grace of a drunk Hippogriff. “SHE’S VERY PRECIOUS TO ME, OKAY?”

James was howling. “Pads, you’re whipped. I mean, we knew, but this? This is evidence. This is proof in a court of law.”

“Shut your mouth, Potter—”

“Do you talk to it when she’s not around?” Remus asked, utterly serious. “Like, do you take it out before bed and whisper, ‘Goodnight, darling, I miss your smell’?”

Sirius turned scarlet. “I DO NOT—well, not out loud!”

James fell off the chair.

Sirius finally managed to snatch the photo back and cradled it to his chest like it had been wounded. “Don’t listen to them, love,” he whispered to it, with a glare at the boys. “They don’t understand us.”

“You know we’re telling her, right?” Remus said, already pulling out a quill.

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“Actually,” James grinned, “I think she’d find it adorable.”

“She’d die of secondhand embarrassment,” Sirius groaned, hiding his entire face behind the wallet.

But when he saw you later that day—when you smiled at him like he hung the moon, and kissed his cheek and called him "my handsome boy", and tucked your hand into his coat pocket where he was still clutching that damn photograph—he thought, maybe... maybe the teasing was worth it.

Even if Remus and James greeted him that evening with synchronized kissing noises.

── .✦

You knew something was up the moment you walked into the common room and James Potter looked at you like Christmas had come early.

“Oh, hey there,” he said far too casually. “Funny thing happened earlier. Wanna hear it?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Not particularly.”

“No no, I insist,” said Remus, sliding onto the arm of the chair beside you like this was premium entertainment. “It’s about a certain someone. And a certain object.”

You blinked. “Is this about Sirius? What did he do now?”

James grinned. “Oh, nothing. Just carries you around in his wallet like a 1950s milkman’s sweetheart.”

You stared.

Remus nodded solemnly. “Tiny photo. Worn around the edges. Laminated.”

“I—what?!”

And then—then—you spotted him.

Sirius Black, standing frozen at the top of the boys’ staircase like a deer caught in a very romantic set of headlights.

He held his wallet in his hand. He made brief eye contact with you. Then he did the only logical thing:

He turned around and bolted back upstairs.

“Oh my GOD,” you gasped, launching up from the couch. “He did not—SIRIUS BLACK, GET BACK HERE!”

“No you don’t!” came his panicked yell from somewhere above. “YOU CAN’T SEE IT—I’LL DIE—YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, SWEETIE—”

James was wheezing. “He’s GONE. He’s GONE feral.”

You thundered up the stairs two at a time and flung open the dorm door to find Sirius mid-dive onto his bed, clutching the wallet like it was the Marauder’s Map and you were Filch.

“Sirius Orion Black,” you said, arms crossed, breathless from the chase, “do you or do you not carry a photo of me in your wallet like a lovesick lunatic?”

He peeked over the edge of his blanket. “Lovesick gentleman, actually. Big difference.”

“Let me see it.”

“No.”

“Sirius.”

“…No.”

You stepped forward.

He whimpered.

Finally—finally—with a deep sigh and a dramatic flop onto his back like he was sacrificing his soul, he handed it over.

And there it was.

A tiny, slightly faded Polaroid of you. Laughing, sunlight on your face, your hand tangled in his hair. Laminated. Well-loved.

You looked at him.

He looked utterly destroyed. “It’s for morale,” he whispered, staring at the ceiling. “You’re like… a good luck charm. Or emotional support. Or a Patronus. You’re my Patronus, darling.”

Your heart turned to mush.

But you kept your face straight. “So you laminated it?”

“For protection!” he cried, sitting up. “You don’t understand, my love—James keeps gravy packets in his wallet. I wasn’t about to let you mingle with beef stew residue!”

You burst out laughing, full and loud and bright. And Sirius—sweet, ridiculous, hopelessly gone Sirius—just looked at you like you were the only thing in the world.

“Hey,” you said softly, climbing onto the bed beside him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You know you could just ask me for another one, right?”

He blinked. “A photo?”

You nodded. “Or better yet…” You kissed his cheek. “You could just look at me.”

He grinned, slow and smug and utterly Sirius. “I do. All the time. That’s why I walk into furniture.”

You laughed again, burying your face in his chest. “God, you’re lucky you’re pretty.”

He kissed your temple. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

── .✦

You weren’t planning on him finding out.

It was meant to be a quiet little secret. Something soft, something yours. A folded-up photo of Sirius—just his profile in sunlight, caught mid-laugh, probably making fun of James—and it sat right behind the emergency chocolate bar and next to your spare quills. A talisman. A comfort.

You took it out on bad days. When classes were dragging or the world felt too heavy or you missed him more than you could say aloud.

But Sirius Black was many things, and snooping-proof was not one of them.

You’d left your bag on the floor for five minutes. Five. That’s all it took.

"Darling?" his voice called from across the common room, the kind of cautious that meant he’d either broken something, found something, or was preparing to dramatically confess something. You turned, only to see him holding your wallet open with an expression like he’d just discovered ancient treasure.

"What's this?" he asked, holding up the folded photo like it was evidence. His own face stared back at him from the picture. He looked younger, a little softer, sunlight in his lashes. You’d kept it since fifth year.

You blinked. “...That’s private.”

“PRIVATE?!” he shrieked, his voice cracking. “You’ve been carrying me around in your wallet, sweetheart?!”

You walked over, nonchalant. “Yeah. What about it?”

Sirius stood there like you’d just proposed marriage. “I—You—You keep a picture of me on you? Like I’m—like I’m a lucky charm or something?”

You smirked, plucking it from his fingers. “I thought it was only fair. Since you keep one of me.”

“That’s DIFFERENT,” he gasped, pressing a hand to his heart. “Mine is—mine is chivalrous. Yours is criminally adorable and I’m having a crisis.”

You leaned in, lips twitching. “Having trouble breathing, love?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yes. Also blinking. Also standing. I might need to sit down.”

You nudged his shoulder with yours and tucked the photo back where it belonged. “You look good in that picture. It always makes me feel better.”

Sirius made a noise like a wounded animal and flopped backward onto the couch, arms flailing. “I am going to DIE. This is the best day of my life and I’m going to die and I will not be reborn because nothing will top this.”

You sat down beside him, tugging his arm until he curled into your side like the absolute drama queen he was. “You’re such a baby.”

“I’m your baby,” he said smugly, nose brushing your jaw.

“You’re a pocket-sized baby,” you replied sweetly. “Fits right in my wallet.”

“Unholy words,” he groaned. “Say it again.”

You kissed the tip of his nose. “My pretty boy.”

He visibly short-circuited.

You grinned, victorious, and tucked your legs over his lap.

And that was it. He was a goner.

── .✦

It started, as most Marauder disasters did, with ego.

Specifically, Sirius’s ego.

You caught him staring at your wallet photo again. He tried to play it cool, of course, with that smug little smirk and a head tilt like he hadn’t literally gasped when he saw it for the first time.

But you saw the twitch in his jaw. The unspoken challenge in his eyes.

And then, the next day… it began.

You were in the common room, halfway through a cup of tea, when James’s voice carried across the room:

“Pads, why is your wallet thicker than Peter’s entire textbook collection?”

Sirius—cool, collected Sirius—looked far too innocent. “What? I just like being prepared.”

Remus reached over, yanked the wallet from his hands, and opened it.

And snorted.

James peered in. Then cackled. “NO. You didn’t.”

You raised an eyebrow as Sirius’s face went red. “What’d he do now?”

James turned the wallet around.

You blinked.

There were photos. So many photos. Every single one was of you. Laughing. Reading. Sleeping. Eating toast. One of you with a spoon on your nose.

You choked. “Sirius?!”

He sat up proudly. “Well, sweetheart, if you’re going to keep one photo of me, I figured I’d keep a few of you.”

“Seven is not a few!”

“Oh, that’s not all,” Remus added, flipping through the slots like a catalogue. “This one’s labeled ‘sunlight angel’. And this one—oh my Godric, he put a HEART STICKER on this one—”

Sirius snatched it back, scandalized. “It’s artistic expression!”

“You’ve got one tucked into your wand permit,” James added, eyes wide. “Pads, be honest… are we gonna find one under your pillow?”

“I’m not a monster,” Sirius huffed. “That one’s laminated and goes in my boot.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Sirius. You’re a menace.”

He leaned over with a grin. “I’m a menace in love, sweetheart.”

You tried not to smile. You failed miserably.

“You’re completely ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he whispered, brushing a kiss against your cheek, “I’m still your ridiculously handsome, wallet-stuffing, picture-hoarding idiot, yeah?”

You looked at him—utterly smitten, utterly Sirius—and sighed.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “You’re mine.”

He beamed, all sunlight and smug satisfaction.

Until a photo slipped out of the back of the wallet and fluttered to the floor.

Remus picked it up.

It was of you, with a very noticeable smear of toothpaste on your chin.

You froze.

James gasped, delighted. “He laminated it.”

Sirius’s face turned crimson. “IT’S CANDID, OKAY?!”

You smirked.

“...You’re not getting any new ones for a week.”

Sirius groaned. “Worth it.”

#della 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x oc #sirius orion black #sirius black fic #sirius black #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction

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