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#he will go ‘this is so stupid’ and then immediately go with ‘you’ve seen this one before’
fairykazu · 3 days
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is he a dog or a cat? with childe masterlist ++ cw: this is f!reader but can be read as gn, crushing && requited feelings.
the way he trailed behind you like a lost puppy during lunch; it almost made you feel pity for him. key word, almost. whatever he tried to pull during english today wasn't cool but you didn't mind it. but the way, he's acting behind you, he instantly regretted it.
but if you think about it, childe’s like a dog, fiercely loyal to the bone and willing to do anything to prove himself. he’s kind of stupid, not in a bad way of course. it’s just sometimes he acts without thinking, swinging his fists instead of using words as a weapon. other times he’s more akin to an orange cat with the way he acts, it’s like he turns off his brain whenever he hangs out with you. 
you remember when you two were playing a game of hide and seek, in your defense, he started it! he bet he could’ve found you within a minute. could he? yes, but that’s beside the point, he attacked your honor! you juked him by running to a fork, throwing a rock at a dead end and running in the opposite direction. when he reached the forked alleyway, he heard the rock in the other side, running at the speed of light. then he knocked his head against the dead end. but did you win? 
yes, that’s the most important part (an obvious lie).
…childe was fine after he hit his head of course, after you rushed towards him, helping him up. he sat on the cement floors as you circle around him with questions, checking if he was bleeding. “ajax, are you okay?” 
he was smiling like a cheeky dog, basking in the attention you gave him. if food wasn't something he'd consume, affection would definitely be his go-to. “of course, i am when you’re with me.” 
he chuckled as you rolled your eyes, punching him playfully in the arms, "okay, from that reaction, you seem to be in good shape to me."
he let out a gasp. he fixed up his attitude, immediately switching his personality from being cheeky to being solemn, tearful even. "oh, name! my forehead hurts so bad."
you tilted your head, well, it's better to play along with his antics than to ignore them. otherwise, he'd keep it up. "oh no." you dryly replied, "do you need a kiss for your boo-boo?"
childe looked up in your direction, breaking his character a bit. he was stuttering out, his freckled cheeks flustered, "really?" he cleared his throat. "i mean, ahem, i believe thats the best way for me to heal."
"really?"
it was clear that childe wouldn't believe that you would go with the kiss. but as always, he knew if he riled you up enough, bruise your ego to prove him wrong, it could happen.
maybe... well, he hopes. "...yepp!"
“if you say so, ajax.” 
he was flustered to the point his neck reddened, he didnt think it would be this easy. you leaned in close and he squeezed his eyes. but it wasn’t even a kiss, just a brief press against his skin but still he stumbled around his words, “thank you… that would surely, i mean, i know that confidently that would certainly– i mean, i know that would make me heal.” 
he’s trying to play it off as cool but internally, he knew he fumbled so bad. who says that? 
“uh-huh, c’mere, let me take you to the nurse.” 
“oh okay!” 
huh… well, he’s kind of a mix of those animals. but how do you describe that? would he be that one show, dog-cat or cat-dog?  youve seen him in a different light before but he rarely shows you what that side looks like. only once you’ve seen him as the fearful delinquent and never again.
“childe, why are you following me? don’t you have other friends?” you asked, turning your heel to stop abruptly, facing him. thankfully the road you took to go home doesn't have any crowds. otherwise, this situation could be taken in the worst way possible. childe rested his head on your shoulder, you could feel the ambience to dampen as you met his ocean eyes. 
he looked back at you, “well, name, your bodyguard is here to protect you.” 
dog. 
you rolled your eyes, “really, thats your excuse.” 
his gaze only stayed on you, “mhm, and as your bodyguard, you need to be safer around these parts.” 
“so you’re a cowboy now.” 
“no? well, i just want to say something.” 
okay, maybe a cat? 
“go on.” 
“you know in english where i acted… weird..” oh yeah, you remember now. if you recall, he was acting off. more flirty than normal, did you hate it? not exactly… but does he really need to know that? not right now. 
“there was this group of guys who were talking about you like you were an object as if you were just the girl of the week. so that’s why i was acting like we were dating. and don’t worry, i did use my words…” 
“that’s cute of you but you also fought them didn’t you?” 
“you called me cute?” 
“that’s what you focused on???” 
“that’s besides the point, you think im cuteeee.” 
“sure whatever you want.” 
he’s a dog that’s for sure. 
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ahfrickenfrick · 16 days
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bruce would be the kind of dad to make fun of his kids for watching something, then stand there and watch it with like a stupid handful of cashews
and suddenly he’s telling dick his favorite characters, he’s having duke quiz him on names, & stephanie had to pull up the character quizzes again because bruce was adamant that he knew which of his kids are what character
they all come back to the manor after a week in blud and find him wrapped up in a blanket watching the new episode without them
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norrizzandpia · 5 months
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you’re my absolute favourite lando fanfic writer, i get so excited whenever you post. can you do some sort of fake dating x enemies to lovers with lando & some angst & grovelling please? i leave the rest up to you, i can’t wait to see what you come up with<3
THIS IS THE BEST MIX OF TROPES I HAVE EVER SEEN I LOVE YOU FOR THIS also thank you so much for saying I’m your fav lando writer I’m blushing ☺️
You Were Never What I Wanted, (LN4)
Summary: Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?
Warnings: language, sexual discussions, very mild smut, lando and yn yearning, yn calling lando a man whore not affectionately, talks of death, a crash, she’s long so grab popcorn, omfg this one hurts
Note: i love a good fake dating y’all don’t GET. IT. Also i added the reformed playboy trope to this to spice things up! It’s very mildly mentioned tho UPDATE: PART 2 POSTED!
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Lando screeches, body flying from his chair beside Y/n.
Charlotte smiles tightly at him, nodding slowly and putting her hands up, “Lando, yes. You know this is the only way to clean up the reputation you two have developed together.”
He groans, turning to pace the room when Zak interrupts, “Lando, be a fucking man and clean up the mess you’ve made.”
He turns quickly, eyes bulging as he yells, “It wasn’t fucking me! It was her!” He turns to look at Y/n, bewildered look in his eyes as he points furiously at her, “It was you! You got us into this mess! You clean it up!”
Y/n rolls her eyes at him and he almost loses his head, “You’re just as at fault, Lando. You’re the one that openly criticized my driving in a room full of reporters and cameras!”
“I was asked a fucking question, Y/n. It was my job to answer it honestly.” He shoots back.
She scoffs, “Are you fucking psychotic? Or just that fucking stupid? Our job is to lie to the press, that’s what it’s always been. Don’t fucking change it when it’s convenient for you.”
Lando’s hands claw at his eyes as they continue to bicker, “The only person who’s stupid here is you.”
“I was standing up for myself!”
“Oh, yeah?! Now, look where that’s gotten us! A fucking PR stunt!”
“Get over yourself, Lando! You’re just as at fault!”
“You’re so fucking annoying, Y/n! Can’t take any fucking accountabil-”
“Oh, please, you’re one to ta-”
“OKAY!” Charlotte claps her hands as she stops the two drivers. The image before her is one she never thought she’d see this season. Lando Norris, a McLaren driver and well known playboy, getting mad he had to kiss one of the most beautiful women to grace the sport of Formula 1, fellow driver on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n. She surely would’ve chuckled if Lando’s eyes weren’t alive with an angry fire she needed to diffuse immediately.
“You two need to just realize that whose fault this was doesn’t matter. What you need to focus on is pretending you’re in love, so the media stops breathing down McLaren’s and Red Bull’s necks. This is the only way we can make all this bad press go away.” She explains, hands moving rapidly in front of her as she tries to calm the two down.
Y/n, the more rational one, nods, accepting her fate with grace. Lando, on the other hand, stomps his foot on the ground and mutters a sentence of agreement before storming out of the room.
Y/n laughs, turning to Zak and Charlotte, the papaya employees looking as if five years had just been taken off their lives, “I don’t know how you put up with him. He’s so fucking childish.”
Charlotte, media trained, smiles, “He’s better when he isn’t angry.”
Zak, not media trained, nods, “Y/n, I’ve never agreed with you more.”
The man and woman share a look, a subtle scolding glint in Charlotte’s eye as she stares at Zak. He backs down, earning a giggle from Y/n as she begins to leave the room.
“You’ll send the NDAs and other contracts over to Red Bull, right? I’d like to get this started and over with as soon as possible.” Y/n smiles, a soft one that makes others feel warm inside.
Charlotte nods, “Of course. Consider it done.”
Y/n, keeping her smile and composure, withdraws from the room, the door closing with a loud click.
Zak and Charlotte are left to sink down into the chairs behind them. Slugging, Zak’s head lulls to her side, “This is either the best idea we’ve ever had or the worst one.”
She laughs, “They either fall in love or hate each other more.”
“Okay, so,” Charlotte smiles at Lando and Y/n from her side of the SUV, the two on either side of the car, sitting as far away from the other as possible, “This is going to be a short outing.”
“Thank God.” Lando mumbles under his breath, earning a scowl from the girl beside him.
Charlotte huffs, continuing, “Just a coffee run. You’ll go into the cafe, holding hands, maybe a kiss or two, get your drinks, and then leave. Very quick. However, I need you two to give it your all. This will be the first time the public sees you as something more than enemies. It needs to be convincing. Heart eyes and maybe, if you’re comfortable, roaming hands.”
Lando’s head turns in utter disgust, “If you fucking think I’m going to touch her ass or some shit, you’ve absolutely lost it.”
Y/n’s body whips around, whole torso facing him as she stares him down, “Oh, please, Lando, you get no fucking women. You haven’t touched anybody’s ass, let alone a girl’s, in fucking ages.”
“Oh, yeah? Then, explain the girl that woke up in my bed this morning!” He fires back, head tilting in a challenging way.
Y/n shoves her arms across her chest as she sits back and whispers, loud enough for him and Charlotte to hear, “Man whore.”
Charlotte’s eyebrows lift slightly, exhaling a breath, “Well! This should be fun!”
The car comes to a stop in an alleyway, hidden from prying eyes. Charlotte lets the silence pass between the two for a few moments before leaning over and opening Lando’s door, “Well, get on with it! Chop chop! Don’t have all the time in the world.”
Lando slides out of the car, shaking his head and grumbling incoherently. Y/n follows him, however, when she gets her legs hanging out the door, she is reminded of just how high the car is off the ground. She goes to turn her body around, opting to slide slowly out on her stomach in avoidance of an accident, but, before she can get positioned, Lando grabs her hips and lifts her from the car, down onto the ground.
There’s a moment where she’s so taken aback, surprised, by the movement, all she can do is grip onto his biceps and stare down at her feet, safely on the pavement. It’s only when Charlotte starts yelling, “Yes! Yes, Lando! Just like that! Look at her like that!” That she looks up. What she finds is deep green eyes completely dilated and lost in the sight of her. She reminds herself of the hatred this man has for her, brushing off the way his hands squeeze over the flesh of her hips desperately, and removes herself from his hold.
Immediately, he comes to, the snarl replacing whatever emotion had taken over his face before. She trails down the dirty, smelly passageway, hearing Lando’s feet patter behind her.
It’s as if she’s achingly aware of his presence when he reaches her, just before they turn onto the public street, and takes her hand in his. The way his cologne wraps around her body, suffocating her in the most addicting way, and the feeling of his fingers fitting perfectly in the divots of hers, soft against her skin, has Y/n reeling. She goes along with his movements, relying on him to guide her as she travels to a place where Lando’s just the man she used to think he was; insanely hot and incredibly charming.
He pulls her back, however, when he opens the door for her and quietly says her name when she doesn’t walk through.
“Y/n?” His hand tugs against hers, smiling softly at the way she stares off into space. Whether that smile is genuine, although, Y/n has no clue.
She shakes her head, murmuring a thank you to him as she scurries past the threshold. When they both enter, their presence is immediately clocked by the other customers waiting for their orders. That’s what Y/n tells herself when Lando comes up behind her, arms around her waist as he rests his head on the top of hers.
“What do you want, baby? I’m paying.” He says, low enough for it to come across as a whisper, but loud enough for the girl in front of them to turn her head slightly in curiosity.
He’s surprisingly good at this, falling into the role demanded of him in a way that has Y/n faltering. She was expecting a man who was so distant from her, the same as her past partners, she had to beg for his attention. Yet, here she was getting showered in affection by a man she was convinced didn’t have the capacity for it.
Her response is easy, covering for the feelings arising within a certain part of herself she can’t quite name, “Just a cappuccino. Thanks, Lan.”
His grin is sweet as he lays a kiss on her temple. His hands rub over her hips as he detaches himself from her body and moves in front of her, teasingly pushing her away from the register with a light laugh.
Lando spews off the order to the man behind the counter as Y/n moves to the other side of the establishment, residing where the orders are dropped off. It could’ve been strategic, it probably was she promises herself, but Lando yells across the store to her.
“Y/n! Love, do you want food? They have your favorite here,” He smiles at her, earning a few giggles from fawning girls in the corner, “Croissants!”
Did he know croissants are actually her favorite or was that just a lucky guess?
Y/n gives him an airy chuckle, head falling back slightly in a lovesick way as she shakes her head, “Nah, I’m okay. Just gives us another opportunity to come back here.”
He nods at her, shaking his head at the barista and handing him some cash.
He tips the change, a hefty amount seemingly as Y/n watches the worker hesitate and thank Lando profusely. Her heart warms, shining on the inside as he treats hardworking people, those who are usually treated horrifically, with the utmost respect.
These reactions she’s having toward him are confusing, a far off nagging in her brain that she might’ve always wished for this type of attention specifically from him.
Nevertheless, she forces her mind to end its overwhelming thoughts when he waltzes over and sidles up next to her. She’s determined to keep this transactional, however she can.
She can’t get feelings.
She won’t get feelings.
And that was that, she decided.
“Lando!” Another worker calls out, setting down two drinks on the counter in front of them. Y/n goes to pick them up, however Lando beats her, giving her a cheeky grin as he mumbles, “You’re my girlfriend, Y/n. You don’t get the drinks, I do. Don’t be barbaric.”
She stands staring at him, mouth agape at his comment as the girls sitting behind them, somehow closer now, gasp.
Y/n hits his arm, the liquid jostling in his grip, “We weren’t supposed to say anything yet!”
He shrugs in return as he pushes the door open with the side of his body, and waits for her to walk through, “I guess I just couldn’t wait, baby. Too in love.”
She shakes her head at him, taking the drink from his hand, their digits brushing against the other’s in an electrifying way, “Down the toilet goes the soft launch plan.”
As they turn the corner, the smile he had been adoring her with suddenly vanishes and the usual pain that fills his expression when he’s around her returns.
“I’m just trying to get this over with, Y/n. Waiting a whole fucking month to tell some fans we’re together is so fucking stupid and I’m not doing it.” He bites out, a hostility to him she had forgotten in the ten minutes he had just treated her like she was his everything.
She drops the coffee on the ground as they grow closer to the car, shock at his quick change in attitude forcing her body to go numb. Lando stops when she does, both of them staring down at the leaking, steaming drink.
He dryly laughs at her, “How fucking stupid! Can’t even hold her own drink! No wonder you’re a shit driver!”
He gets in the car, shutting the door harshly and leaving her to internalize his criticisms.
For some reason, after getting a glimpse at what being loved by him feels like, his words hurt more, mean more.
What a dangerous game.
Lando is a known party animal. He’s in love with the blinding lights, loud music, and alcohol flowing without a care in the world what hangover he’d be graced with in the morning. However, with her here, it proves to be a much more stressful experience.
She’s glued to his side, not particularly the clubbing type, and Lando feels his heart quicken when other men bend their backs to see her walk away. A month into the arrangement they structured and he’s consistently feeling as if he’s fighting off every man that floats their way.
He’s worried someone will try to take advantage of her; he’s worried someone will spike her drink; he’s worried someone will touch her weirdly; he’s worried someone will bother her.
He’s worried about her.
A thought so pressing he forces it out of his mind, away from the impending cloudiness that accompanies a topic so big; the way he feels toward her.
The way it was explained to him, by the joint teams of McLaren PR and Red Bull PR, was that, for the first few weeks, their relationship outings would consist of soft dates, quick times spent out together grabbing takeout or a few pictures here and there on both their social medias that addressed their relationship status. Once they got past that time period, they would begin to see the public more often as a union. Long dinners, a handful of charity functions, a gala, and nights out clubbing riddled his calendar now.
Something he wasn’t too opposed to he was coming to find out.
That was the phase they were entering now; the hard launch. After his stunt in the coffee shop those four weeks ago, the teams had to regroup. The girls who had been hanging around had heard his slight confession of love, plastering it on the internet for every person to see.
The consequence? Lando didn’t get to be seen with Y/n for a week as the PR teams waited for the attention around the news to subside.
He wouldn’t risk that now.
Not when he was beginning to get used to the way her hand held his bicep as his fingers tangled in her other hand below.
“Lan?” She yells in his ear, their footsteps just now reaching the VIP section as the bodyguard lets them through.
He looks down at her, their faces centimeters away, lips centimeters away, and Lando’s scared.
Scared of the things he wants to do as her plump, pink lips sit right below his.
“Yeah?” His eyes avert to Max, his best friend, the boy giving him a knowing glance as he sips on his glass.
“Get me a drink please? I would do it myself, but I don’t want to risk having to talk to a random guy and-” He interrupts her immediately when she mentions the possibility of someone else hitting on her.
“I got it.” He’s spinning around, fast walking toward the bar before she can tell him what she wants.
She turns around, wandering over to Max and plopping down beside him on the soft, black couch in the corner of the room.
Max shakes his head as he looks at her, chuckling softly before letting his head fall to his chest.
“What?” She asks, eyebrows raising at the boy she had grown close to over the time she’d spent with his friend.
“You two are so funny.” He continues giggling, his girlfriend smacking his arm with a cautious look.
Y/n’s eyebrows furrow, “What?”
“You guys say you hate each other, but then you look at each other like you can’t wait to rip the other’s clot-” He begins, but Pietra slaps her hand over his mouth.
“MAX FEWTRELL!” She screams over the music, “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”
Her scolding makes him cower into himself, a drunken look on his face as he searches for mercy from his girlfriend.
Y/n is about to press for more when Lando shoves her drink in front of her, holding it out for her until she cradles it in her own.
Looking down at it, her head tilts, “A vodka soda with two orange slices?”
Lando stares at her blankly, “Yeah, you’re favorite, right?”
She nods, “Yeah.”
They look at each other for a moment. Confusion on both their faces for two different reasons.
“Is that a problem?” He asks her, hand dangerously close to her thigh and heating the skin of her leg up with the need for him to splay his fingers across it.
She shakes her head slowly, “No, just- How did you know it was my favorite?”
Emotions flash through his eyes, too fast for Y/n to decipher them. He withdraws physically, cold returning to her leg when his hand retracts to his lap.
“Uh, you just told me a few times.” He stutters.
If she knew him better, she might say for certain he was nervous.
Not mentioning the fact she had never told him what her favorite alcoholic drink was, Y/n moves on. It’s not because she doesn’t want to find out how he knew what she liked or that she simply doesn’t care how he knows, it’s because a camera catches her peripheral eye. Her head discreetly moves to the side, analyzing the drunken girl who stumbles over to the railing and points her phone right at them.
Y/n falls into Lando’s side, his body laid against the back of the couch and making for a comfortable cushion. His arm automatically wraps around her shoulders as her hand plants itself on his upper thigh.
When her fingers brush teasingly close to his crotch, he looks down at her, astonished, “What are you doing?”
“Camera.” She says, his eyes looking up through his lashes before he sees what she had witnessed before.
He nods subtly, leaning down immediately to press his lips to hers shortly. It’s a kiss like the ones they’d had before, quick and dry, yet, this one, instead of pulling away right after, Lando lingers. His lips brush against hers in hesitation, as if he’s deciding whether or not he wants to lean back in for more. His eyes stare into hers, top lip hitting her bottom one as he dips his chin down. He’s close to taking what he wants, breath heavy against her face as he holds her to him. His hands eagerly claw at her dress, forcing her to stay where she is, where he wants her to be, close to him. Yet, he continues to hesitate.
Finally, for the first time, Y/n sees the emotion that hides behind the beautiful color of his eyes; confusion.
It’s only for a split second though. She sees it only for a millisecond as Lando feels the way she breaks down a wall he had built up long ago. When she realizes the war behind his head, he retreats.
His hands fall from her back and his head turns to the side, rejecting what he wanted to do. She watches him look for the girl that had been filming them, eyes roaming over the crowd before coming to the conclusion she was gone.
“No camera.” He says curtly, pushing her off him as he gets up from the couch and walks back to the bar.
She watches him order another drink, no doubt for himself.
Her eyes train on the drink that sits, sweating, on the table in front of them.
Lando’s drink that’s completely full.
🏎️
Liquid courage is a real thing. It’s what drives Lando to ask Y/n to join him on the dance floor. It’s what drives Y/n to pull him into her and sway her hips right against him. They’re on beat with the music, it thumping in their hearts as Lando grips her hips and forces her body closer to his. There’s a newfound sexual tension, rather than the usual tension that consisted of complicated feelings and lingering hurt over past insults. Her hands drape over his neck, head in his chest as he lays his against her shoulder, withholding groans when she circles her hips and accidentally caresses his dick.
His head’s somewhere else, terrifyingly so. He’s not fully thinking through his actions or the thoughts running through his head, the consequences they would have.
All he can think about is the feeling of Y/n’s boobs pressed up against his chest, her cleavage cum-worthy when he looks down and sees her potential spill-out.
The chorus of Love Tonight pumps through the speakers, communicating the feelings they’re too scared to say.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
The music spurs him on, almost nudging his head downwards to meet her in the same spot they had been in just a few hours before.
His lips hovering over hers with the same thoughts as before, Lando’s brain goes haywire. She’s panting against him, hips relentless as they continue to circle against him. He’s drowning in her, no escape from the hold she has on him.
Fuck it, he thinks.
He smashes his lips against hers, the first kiss they’ve had that truly puts into perspective how much they want each other. Teeth clashing, his tongue wandering the walls of her mouth, Lando and Y/n fail to come up with an excuse for their actions.
No cameras, no fans, no press.
Just the two of them, dancing and kissing with one singular goal.
All I need is your love tonight.
“Here’s your check! Thank you for joining us tonight!” The waiter smiles, setting down the black booklet as Lando quickly swipes it from the table.
Whining, Y/n waves her card around, “Lando, when are you going to let me pay? I don’t think I’ve paid a single time we’ve been together.”
He smiles at her mischievously, “Exactly.”
She rolls her eyes, “Lando,”
He eyes her as he scribbles onto the receipt, “Y/n,”
She scoffs, sitting back in her chair with a huff.
When he’s done, he gives her a sympathetic look before reaching across the table and grabbing her hand, “How about next time we get coffee you pay for your own?”
She looks away from him with a failing suppressive smile, “That’s like five dollars, Lan! You’ve probably spent thousands in the time we’ve been together.”
He shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter.”
Her face scrunches up, “Yes, it does!”
He’s about to rebuttal, but the screeching of people close to them takes their soft eyes off the other.
A mixed group of girls and boys stop at their table, smiling brightly at the two drivers. One of them stands in the middle, phone clutched to her chest as she asks, “Can we get a picture?”
Lando looks to Y/n, searching for approval, but she’s not looking at him. He watches her face light up, smiling big at the fans in front of them as she gets up from her chair.
“Yeah, of course!” She laughs, a sound so light and delicate, it makes Lando’s heart clench in his chest. He never saw the way she acted around fans, having been isolated from them in the times they were together. However, now, as he stays put in his chair and stares on, he adores the way she adores them.
His hands clasped in his lap, Lando sits motionlessly. He can’t take his eyes off the woman who is very clearly making this group’s year. They all stare at her as if she held the moon in their hands, a present from her to them. There’s a simple sparkle in their eyes as she takes pictures with each of them, a simple sparkle that tells him just how much these kids look up to her.
He’s enamored by her, just like they are. For different reasons, though.
“Lan, are you going to get up?” She giggles, hitting his arm and reminding him of the task at hand.
The group stares at him, not the same way they had stared at her notably. He can tell they value him, they’re excited by him, but they aren’t starstruck by him.
He can live with that, though. He gets what it’s like to become speechless over something so beautiful.
After a few more clicks of the camera, the supposed couple sits back down in their seats, but Y/n doesn’t let the fans leave yet. He watches as they brighten at her starting conversation with them.
He loves this. He loves he-
“I have to say, I was so surprised when I found out you two were together.” One of the girls in the group interrupts his questionable internal dialogue. He’s relieved, however. He can’t be thinking that way.
He can’t be feeling that way.
He isn’t.
Y/n tilts her head up at them, “Yeah?”
The group nods and one of the boys speaks up, “Yeah, you two, like, hated each other.”
Everyone laughs, Y/n sitting back in her chair as Lando watches her take the statement easily, “Well, we didn’t hate each other. We did love each other, just didn’t know how to deal with it.”
Her eyes meet his and, for a moment, Lando wonders if she truly means it or if she’s signaling for him to add on.
He goes with adding on, “Yeah, definitely. Who could hate her?”
You could, she thinks. You do, she thinks.
The words sink her heart to her stomach. A reality so crushing, she hates to entertain it. When this is all over, he’ll go back to hurting her with jabs that attack her self-confidence and she’ll be left to hang on to the man he had been when they were “together”.
She doesn’t want to go back to hating him, yet she’s scared she will. She doesn’t want to go back to knowing who he truly is at his core, yet she’s scared she will.
She doesn’t want to go back to knowing what he truly thinks of her, yet she’s scared she will.
By the time she returns to the conversation, the fans are simultaneously thanking them for their time and kindness. Leaving them alone, Lando stands from the table and checks the bill once more. Y/n grabs her bag, “Why’re you checking it again?”
He looks up at her as his pointer finger lingers on the paper, “Oh, just calculating what you’ll owe me when this is all said and done. You know, when we go back to hating each other’s guts.”
He says it jokingly, she can tell he’s teasing as he laughs it off, holding her hand gently as he leads her out of the restaurant. But, none of that stops the way she exhales a deep breath, a sigh that carries so much pain, she wonders where it came from.
Lando used to mean nothing to her, or so she thought.
Had he always meant everything?
Silverstone is supposed to be a fun race for Lando. It’s one of his favorites on the calendar. Although, that joy is rapidly tanking as he races quickly around the track, smoke emitting from behind him and filling the air, filling his helmet. He coughs harshly as he rushes into his radio, “Was that a crash?! Who is it?! Are they okay?! Is it on fire?! There’s smoke.”
There’s panic in his voice, knowing regardless of who it is, he’ll be worried.
Andrea’s silent on the other line, heightening Lando’s concerns.
“Andrea! What’s going on? Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you.” Andrea responds immediately.
Lando rounds a corner before he speaks back, confusions drenching his tone, “Okay, so who was that? Are they okay?”
Andrea is monotone, “I don’t know if they’re okay right now.”
Lando’s heart drops, “Oh, no, who was it? Was it one of the Williams? A Ferrari? Maybe a Haas?”
Again, Andrea doesn’t answer him and Lando is about to press him further when he reaches the crash site once more. Eyes trained on the color of the car, the words “Red Bull” hit him hard.
Andrea waits for the anxiety to kick in on the other line, fully prepared to talk him down as he watches for any updates on the crash.
“IT’S A FUCKING RED BULL! IS IT Y/N? ANDREA, IS IT Y/N?” He screams, voice shaking as he begins to slow down, cars passing him by and making him lose positions.
Andrea watches the decline of Lando’s car in the race standings, head falling as he realizes no information about Y/n will come quick enough to make him get back in the race.
Calmly, he responds, “I am not sure who it is yet.”
He hears Lando groan aggressively, “Bullshit! Is it her?!”
His yelling can be heard throughout the entire wall, everyone giving side glances to Andrea over the man who is currently screaming.
“Lando, I promise you, if I knew who it was, I would tell you.” Andrea gives, voice pleading.
It’s quiet for a moment, the only thing heard being the sounds of Lando’s heavy breathing. Solemnly, Andrea watches a camera zoom in past the smoke and center the number of the car in the frame.
Y/n’s car.
Clicking the button, Andrea speaks to Lando, “I can confirm it is Y/n’s car. No knowledge of if she’s gotten out of the car or not.”
Again, there’s silence before Lando’s hand smacks his steering wheel and he lets out a noise filled with anguish, “Please, tell me when you find out.”
Torturously, Lando passes by her car at every turn, watching only for a second as people work to try and get her out of the car.
Andrea watches in horror as a group of men lift her from the car, her body limp and unmoving as they run her to the safety car.
“She’s out of the car.” He murmurs to Lando, praying the boy won’t ask more questions.
He does, “Good! That’s good! By herself or did she need aid?”
The sound of Andrea’s heavy sigh kills Lando, “No, not by herself. She needed help.”
“How much help?”
Silence.
Lando yelps, “ANDREA! TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON RIGHT FUCKING NOW! THIS IS MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! HOW MUCH FUCKING HELP?”
“She’s not moving.”
Lando doesn’t say anything, his mind racing as his eyes water.
Finally, he speaks, “I need to retire the car.”
Andrea and the rest of the pit wall turn to look at each other with outraged stares, “What? No, Lando. The car’s perfectly fine. The pace is great, no dam-”
Lando interrupts Andrea with a broken voice, “The car’s not the reason we need to retire the car. It’s the driver. It’s me.”
Everyone can hear it in the way his voice cracks, he’s crying, knowing he can’t see through it. It’s a danger, it truly is, and that forces Andrea and the team to comply with Lando’s demands.
When he parks in the garage, he clampers out. Shoving engineers, Andrea, his dad, Zak, and anyone else who gets in his way or tries to talk to him, Lando sprints over to the medical center. On his way, he loses his mind over the possibility that she might not be there, already at the hospital, or she will be there, but just her lifeless body.
He’s still drenched in sweat, the amount doubling from his running, when he gets there. Lando pushes past the people who stand at the front, not giving them time to tell him he can’t come in. He hears them call out in opposition, but he’s already in and he just doesn’t care.
There’s no time to address the feelings swirling in his stomach that feel ten times what he had felt for any of his past girlfriends. There’s no time to talk about the way he cries over the image of her burning car or her unconscious body being pulled from it. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, last year, he wouldn’t have acted this crazed over her accident. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, now, he’s fully prepared to brawl with anyone that dares to stand in his way of finding her.
There’s no time because he’s reaching her door and flinging it open. There are nurses beside her conscious figure, tending to the scratches and cuts she has from the car’s debris. Even with the bloodied bandages, Lando smiles at her smiling at him.
When she sees him, her arm reaches out for him without thinking. He takes long strides to get to her even in the small room and, when he does, he grabs her hand.
Kneeling down on the floor beside her, he squeezes her hand, “You okay?”
She nods, “Will be.”
“That’s good enough for me.” He whispers, nurses glancing at each other before exiting the room at the intimacy flowing between the two.
They really were selling this.
Suddenly, Y/n’s eyebrows knit together as her gaze lifts to the clock on the wall, “Wait, Lan, the race is still going. Did you crash?”
He shakes his head, eyes averting from hers, “No, I retired the car.”
Her other hand reaches to turn his gaze back to hers, holding his jaw softly as he smiles at her, “Why?” She whispers.
“Because I needed to make sure you were okay.”
The truth hangs in the air painfully.
They can’t speak of what that means or what that alludes to. They can’t speak of the way he clutches onto her hand as if she’ll go away. They can’t speak of the way he raced over here, throwing important people to the side in a state of pure panic. They can’t speak of the way they stare at each other, yearn for each other in a way that goes against every rule they agreed to when this started.
All they can do is kiss each other sweetly and lie.
Lie to themselves about what will happen after it’s over; lie to themselves about how much they truly care for each other; lie to the PR teams and tell them nothing is developing between them, that it’s safe to continue this.
And, most of all, later, when Zak asks Lando why he has lip gloss smudged against his mouth, they must lie.
“Can you zip me up?” Y/n turns around in the car, her back to Lando as her dress hangs open slightly at the top.
He nods, fingers delicate against her skin as he glides against it, trailing the cool metal up. His hands finish on her shoulders, slowly rubbing softly as she begins to lean against him.
“Lan, that feels good.” She mumbles, words slurred from the way his fingers work the knots under her skin.
Her body lies fully on him, his mouth by her ear as they wait to get to their destination. He continues to massage her, whispering random things in her ear about errands they need to run or complete tomorrow.
With her eyes closed and relaxed state, Lando admires how safe she feels around him. Five months ago, Y/n wouldn’t have dared to let him touch her in the way he was, in the way he had over the past two months, however things had changed. For better or for worse, Lando still wasn’t sure.
The driver in the front eyes them questionably, having witnessed the change in their dynamic over their months together.
With her body still limp against him, the car stops in front of the gala’s entrance. Photographers scream beyond the door and flashes of cameras blind them even as they sit behind the glass.
Looking at her and taking her hand in his, Lando whispers, “Ready?”
She nods, “Always.”
A man opens their door, the volume erupting as Lando steps out, his hand clutching Y/n’s as she follows suit. Immediately, they’re pulled into multiple pictures. Lando’s arm finds its home around her waist with Y/n’s hand resting on his chest, a couple so perfect for each other. Their endeavor had been so incredibly successful, both their teams’ PR divisions were pleasantly surprised. Lando looks on at her, a radiant smile gracing her face as she speaks to one of the reporters on the carpet, and hates the feeling of knowing how close the end is.
In just a few weeks, they’ll be sitting down to write a small paragraph, one that will be posted to their Instagram stories as it tries to sum up the romance they thought they had.
At night, he tries to think of words to describe the moments he’s had with her and, every time, he comes up empty.
Her laughing at the journalist’s joke makes him come to the conclusion there will never be a time where he can gather syllables to explain how undeniably perfect she is.
How he got to the place of being able to address how wonderful she was? Lando had an inkling it was because of the way she made his heart pound and hands sweat.
🏎️
Lando and Y/n easily make their rounds throughout the room, greeting sponsors and potential ones with their hands clasped together. It’s obvious how charming they are together, obvious when random strangers are flipping open their checkbooks at the sight of them. Lando knows it’s all her with her thoughtful sentences and engaging demeanor.
He’s a side piece and he’s okay with that, only okay with it when he’s her side piece.
They’re in the midst of sharing a new drink they decided to try, giggles shared between them as they pass the glass between each other. They had started doing this ages ago, when they first grew closer to one another. In order to make these events go by quicker, they started trying all the items on the alcoholic menu they had never heard before. Some of his favorite memories of her had taken place when she tried something she didn’t like and almost spit it out at him.
“I think this one’s good! What’s it called again? Something sexual, right?” She asks as he takes another swig.
Lando shakes his head, grin on his face as he lifts the drink up to their eye level, “I forgot, but it must be cum something. Sure does look like cum.”
Her mouth falls open and she screeches, “Lando!”
He falls over onto the table beside them, laughing, “What? You don’t swallow?”
She joins him in laughter, “You wish you knew.”
Of fucking course, he thinks.
“Lando?” A voice from his past calls from behind them.
Lando’s heart drops, turning around and seeing Luisinha.
“Hey, Lu!” She moves to hug him, squeezing him lightly before letting her eyes drift to the girl quietly standing with him.
“Hi, Y/n.” She speaks, smiling softly as she hugs her.
Luisinha giggles before looking between the two, “I assume I need to be reintroduced to you. Before, you were Y/n, driver for Red Bull. Now, you’re Y/n, Lando’s girlfriend.”
Y/n nods, a gesture that looks to come so easy to her, Lando wishes it was real.
They hug again, chuckling at the situation before Luisinha directs her attention back to her ex-boyfriend, “It’s nice to see you, Lan! All those nights spent on the phone just aren’t the same as seeing you in person.”
Y/n loses her breath over Lu’s words, gaze drifting immediately to Lando and watching as he nods along.
“Yeah! Seriously, talking to you over the phone isn’t enough.”
His response, easy and light, crushes her.
Y/n steps in closer, “Sorry, um, you two still talk?”
Luisinha looks to Lando, intrigue in her eyes as she searches him. Lando, the boy stuck between his past and present, realizes his mistake.
He shakes his hands, “No, I mean- Yes, but it’s not like that, Y/n.”
Luisinha stays silent as she watches Y/n try to keep her composure, “When was the last time you talked?”
Lando can’t bring himself to answer, so Lu does for him, feeling for the girl in between them, “Last night.”
He watches Y/n’s face slowly process the information. It’s as if reality comes crashing down on her, a harsh moment that reminds her of what they are to each other at the end of the day.
Y/n nods, smiling at the two before beginning to walk back, “I need a minute, sorry.”
Lu watches Lando long for her, momentarily wishing Y/n would just understand how much he feels for her, and Luisinha, finally, gets a wave of closure. She understands now why they broke up. When he ended it, Lando had told her he loved her more as a friend, something that broke her, yet, now, she understands why she had been so confused. Originally, she thought he did love her, he just been too afraid to tell her the real reason for their separation, but, as she stares at the pooling in his eyes, she sees a look she never got.
A look of intense love.
She nudges his arm, “Don’t let her get away.”
He nods at her, running off in the direction Y/n had left, eyes searching for her in the sea of people.
🏎️
Lando catches sight of her gorgeous y/h/c hair off in a small hallway of the hotel. He jogs over, her back to him, and lays a soft hand over her shoulder.
She stiffens, refusing to turn around and meet his eyes. However, his voice coaxes her, “Y/n, look at me.”
As much as she tries not to, she does and it breaks her further.
Her watery eyes and lost head tilt are a stab to Lando’s heart, her choked up voice speaking, “So, you were talking to her the entire time we were doing this?”
He’s at a loss, knowing that’s the perfect truth, yet knowing it isn’t fully, “Yes, but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
Her body jerks away from him and the anger he was usually greeted with returns, “Oh?! Then, what does it mean, Lando?! Because it looks like I meant fucking nothing to you! I know it isn’t in my head! I know what’s happened between us isn’t just some people getting over the hatred they had for each other! I thought you felt that way too!”
“I do!” He yells back, frustration at her obliviousness getting to him.
Tears leak down her face, “Then, why did you spend the entirety of this talking to your ex! Why’d you agree to this if you still love your ex?!”
Lando groans, “I don’t love my ex! I don’t love Lu! I love you!”
Her tears fall harder, “Do you? How could someone love another person they used to loathe?!”
Lando shakes his head, overwhelmed at what’s going on in his brain, “It just happened, Y/n! You think I thought this would happen?! No, I didn’t!”
Y/n resigns, quiet taking over other than their heavy breathing, “I don’t believe you.”
His annoyance takes over, “Well, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
I want you to tell me why you love me, she thinks. I want to know where your hate turned to love, she thinks.
Those things go unsaid.
Instead, she huffs, “I think this has gotten too out of hand. I think we need to end this arrangement early.”
She sees the unmistakable sadness etched into his face, “How early?”
“Like, tonight.” She whispers, protecting herself from the world of hurt that would be being loved by him. She isn’t Luisinha, she isn’t a model or breathtaking woman. She’s a girl who fell in love with a “boy’s” sport, a girl who has seen the flaws within herself and tried, desperately, to change them, rewrite them. She never does, although. She always comes out the same on the other side.
The truth catches up with her and images of the beautiful women Lando has had in his bed fill her mind. How does she know this isn’t some elaborate prank to get her vulnerable and then humiliate her out of the resentment he holds against her and the situation she got him in?
Lando musters up some sort of guard, distaste returning after its five month long hiatus, “Fine. I’ll let McLaren know. This works anyway. You served your purpose, got my reputation back to where it was before you came in and fucking destroyed it. You ruin everything, you know that, Y/n?”
She nods, cries intensifying at what she had been afraid of: his hatred for her returning after getting to know a side of him so tender.
“Got it, Lando.” She whispers, slinking past him and out of the building.
He watches her walk away, confused at how he had confessed his love for her and ended it by telling her she was destructive.
She isn’t. How could he say that?
How could he tell the one woman who had built him up that she had tore him down? How could he let frustrated anger replace the love he had for her?
How could he let her get away?
UPDATE: i posted part 2! Find it here.
A/N: TUMBLR GLITCHED OUT AND WAS CRACKING DOWN AT HOW LONG THIS WAS SO I WILL MAKE A PART TWO WITH A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE
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ravenslvt · 2 months
Note
imagine best friend leon comforts you after a break up but it turns south 🤔🤔🤔😛, soft sex is what he gives you
☆ bsf! leon x female!reader ☆
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bestfriend! leon comforting you after a break up
☆ content warnings: smut , mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating ☆
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leon groans as he hears a knock at his door. the clock read 12:53am. who was coming over this late?
he stands up out of bed, not bothering to put a shirt on. he opens his front door, yawning.
all his annoyance completley dissipates when he sees you all teary eyed on his doorstep.
he says your name in concern, you just look up with the saddest look on your face. it sent a pang to his heart to see you like this.
he immediately figured it was your (asshole) boyfriend who was constantly flaking on you and (he assumed) was probably even cheating.
“sorry, i wasn’t sure if you were awake and i didn’t wanna call and-“ you start to ramble. he sighs, bringing you in to hug his bare chest. you didn’t mind, you’d seen him shirtless before. you’ve been bestfriends for almost four years.
“it’s ok, you don’t have to say anything.” he shushes you. he finally brings you into his messy apartment you’d been in countless times, but this time felt different.
“i just feel so fucking stupid. it was so obvious the whole time he was a dick i just was so delusional.” you’re on your second glass of wine now that leon had brought out for you two. he figured it would be nice to talk about your feelings and vent to him. you sit facing eachother on the couch in his living room.
you’d been with your (now) ex-boyfriend for only eight months. but leon always fucking hated the guy. he would always get mad when you would hangout with leon, thinking he had a crush on you or something, which he totally did.
you stopped crying now, you were just angry for wasting so much of your time with such a joke of a man. leon didn’t blame you. he let you rant.
“god, it didn’t help he fucking sucked at sex too. seriously he lasted like two pumps then knocked out. for EIGHT months!” you weren’t lying.
“you’re joking” he laughs, shifting in his seat on the couch. he never even bothered to put a shirt back on since you got here, still only in his baggy grey sweatpants.
“i’m serious. never made me cum once. he never even ate me out, said it was ‘too gross’ ” you scoffed, remembering how it was always about his pleasure and not yours. you felt leon’s eyes on you.
his eyes darkened.
his thoughts raced. that asshole never even ate you out? he’d kill to even touch you like that.
you noticed him go silent, one of his hands resting on his own thigh and the other arm was resting around the top of the couch.
“leon-“
“fuck that guy. seriously. any guy would be so lucky to even be allowed to be with you, to touch you.” leon’s voice is quieter than usual, but loud enough for you to hear. it felt like he was holding something back.
maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the supressed feelings for your bestfriend, but your eyes scanned him, suddenly consious of his shirtless state. how good his bare chest looked. how firm his muscled stomach was. how good his waist looked in those pants. his fucking arms.
and the way you could fully see the outline of his cock in his sweatpants.
your eyes shot back up to his face. only to see him staring at you.
“like… you?” you gulped, awaiting his response. you could see him thinking, practically hearing the gears turn in his head. he sighs your name, looking away.
“i-i can’t. not when your in this state.” he rubs his face with his hands. god his hands were big.
“leon i-“
“no, i like you way too fucking much to mess this up” he looks back at you, a genuine soft look in his eye.
you smile, he’s too sweet for his own good sometimes. you sit up straight, scooting closer to him.
“leon. i promise you, i want you.” you bring a gentle hand to cup his strong jaw.
his hands reach for your face, he uses one to brush a stray hair out of your face. he brings his forehead to yours.
“do you know how badly i want you? how long i’ve been waiting for you? you fucking kill me everyday i have to go without you.” he speaks lowly.
he leans in slowly, giving you a chance to pull away. but you don’t. your eyes flutter shut as your lips connect.
he starts the kiss out paced, allowing your lips to adjust to eachother. your hands go straight to his shoulders for support. you were afraid you’d fall over onto his carpeted floor.
“leon…” you panted his name between kisses, giving him an opportunity to greet his tounge in your mouth.
“what is it pretty girl?” he never pulled back as you two spoke, addicted to your lips.
“want you… need you, please” you practically whined into his mouth. he just smirked, giving you one last kiss before pulling away. you pouted for a second before he started to kiss down your neck slowly. exploring and biting until you showed him your sweet spot.
he bit your pulse point, making you softly yelp.
your hand automatically goes to the waistband of his sweats, but he stops you, swatting your hand.
“no, this is about you. ignore me” he warns.
“but-“ you pout
“no.” he sternly says, pushing you so your back was against the couch cushion, he was now on his knees between your thighs. you were going to argue, but seeing him like this brought no complaint from you. you were never used to this. but god were you excited.
he teasingly removes your shorts, leaving kisses in their wake. you gasped from the feeling, being left in your black panties. they had a little rose at the top center, making him smile.
“cute” his thumb goes over the rose, then moves over your clothed clit. you softly gasp and your hips automatically buck up to meet his touch.
he scrunches your shirt up, kissing your pelvis, then your stomach, and pushing your bra up to bring a nipple into his mouth. you squirm under him, already so needy for him. he pulls away with a pop.
he slowly reaches his hand into your already soaked panties, a look of suprise on his face.
“this all for me?” he nudged your sensitive clit with his knuckle. you suck in a breath, nodding.
he chuckles, using his free hand to pull your panties down while he continues rubbing your clit, rolling it between his fingers.
once they’re off, he stares down at your bare pussy, absolutely entranced.
“s-sorry. he only liked it when i was shaved” you looked away from him, a bit self conscious. you try clamping your thighs together.
he scoffs “what a fucking weirdo” he says before forcing your thighs to stay open with his strength. you always forgot how strong he was since he was always so gentle around you.
he moves his head to hover over your needy cunt, your thighs now around his shoulders. he looks up at you “is this ok?”
you nod.
“yes” you say. he moves in an instant, his hot mouth devouring you.
“fuck, leon!” you moan, covering your mouth with your hand. the other one gripped his dirty blonde hair.
his lustful eyes look up at you as his tounge works expertly against you. he studied your reactions, repeating the actions that made you squirm the most.
your thighs squeezed against his head, but he didn’t mind. he fucking loved that he was making you feel like this. his dick was raging in his pants, but he ignored it. tonight was about you. he’d make it about you everynight if he could.
he thrusted his long tounge into your hole, pumping it as he circled your clit with his nose. you almost screamed, his grip on your thighs getting tighter by the second. he shakes his head in a motion, teetering your orgasm.
you started to shake, almost drowning him in your wetness.
“i think i’m gonna-“ your thighs were so tight around him he swore you were crushing his skull. he quickens his mouth, the most pornographic noises coming from your pussy.
you let out the most delectable moans as you cum all over his face. he keeps licking and sucking until your shaking stops and you’re just panting, trying to push him off from overstimulation.
“s’too much” you pant, grabbing at leons hair. he finally pulls away, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. your face was completley flushed and eyes lidded. he smiled, leaning in to kiss you. you moan as soon as you taste yourself on his tounge. (your ex was wrong, you tasted fucking great)
you feel his hard buldge against your thigh, your brows furrow and a heat fills your gut. you reach out your hand to rub him through his pants. he lets out a needy groan, rutting into your hand. a wet patch growing in the front of the grey sweats.
“f-fuck. keep doing that and i’ll have to keep going, baby” he warns, but you didn’t stop. you keep eye contact as you rub the head of his cock through his sweats, the fabric adding extra stimulation. it twitched in your hand and he grabbed your wrisy, stopping you, though he didn’t want you to stop.
“i don’t wanna take advantage-“ he starts, but you cut him off before he can finish, rolling your eyes.
“leon stop. do you know how many dreams i’ve had of you fucking me? we’ve already gotten this far, so if you don’t fuck me right now i’m gonna walk out that door and-“ this time he cuts you off with a kiss, you smile into the kiss. you feel him smile back.
after a minute or two of sweet kissing, the moment gets heavy again. the kiss gets deeper and more messy.
you couldn’t help it, you slide his loose sweatpants off his figure and have to look down.
oh fuck. he was big.
he noticed your eyes widen and cheeks flush, his ego inflating a little.
“that’s not gonna fit, leon” you look back up at him, absolutely in awe of the man’s gorgeous cock. the tip was a raging pink color, it was curved upward like it was begging to be touched. precum sparkling at the edges.
he chuckles, kissing you on the cheek.
“oh yes it will”
he sits back up on his knees, dragging your legs twords him and grabbing one of the pillows from the couch, patting your hip to tell you to lift it so he can slide it under.
he gives himself a few more pumps, even spitting on his cock for extra lubricant, though you were already so wet he could probably slide in easily.
he lines himself up, looking up at you for one last chance for you to back away, but you just shimmy your hips to try and get him to put it in already. he takes that as a sign and slowly slides in.
you tense up as soon as the tip is in. he leans down, giving you a peck on the lips before rubbing your hips.
“relax, pretty” he sooths. a few more seconds and hes sinking in a little more, little by little he brings himself to a point where he can’t push in anymore. he was balls deep in your sopping pussy.
he waited a few moments until you were moving your own hips for some more stimulation.
“there you go, look at you.” he teases, pulling out almost all the way, only leaving his raging tip in before thrusting it back in. your back arched off the couch and he gripped your hips tigher. you felt heavenly.
all you could think about was how good his big cock felt inside of you. gently slamming in and out and in and out and in and out.
“more” you plead, looking down to where you two meet, there was a noticable buldge indented in your stomach from where his cock was in you, making you whine.
“of course” he whispers, leaning down to cage you in his elbows, throwing the pillow from under you somewhere across the room and instead using his strength to slam into you. your arms held him around his neck, one pulling at his hair unconsciously. your legs wrapped around his hips, encouraging him to go faster.
you’re both panting as you lean up to kiss him again. it wasn’t anything like your first kiss with him. it was all tounge and saliva and mess. but it was perfect for the moment.
you could feel him so deep, it felt like he was growing even bigger inside of you. you felt a familiar build up in your belly, the need of release. you pull away from the kiss to breathe. he lowers his head to suck your tits in his mouth, alternating between them and occasionally biting them gently.
“leonnn!” you moaned his name over and over as his pace got faster and faster.
he was holding back his own orgasm just so he could feel you clench around him.
“fuck, i wanted this for so fucking long, baby. you’re so-fuck- so perfect.” leon was losing his composure more and more by every thrust inside of you. your walls started to clench around him, making his face scrunch up.
you came around him, squeezing him, your nails dragging down his strong arms, leaving redish pink marks in their wake.
he just chanted your name mixed with compliments-how perfect you are around him, how pretty you are, how you were made for him.
“w-where can i-“
“inside, leon, please!” you whine, all you can think of is his cock dragging in and out of you.
he spills inside you with a groan, hips sputtering. he lays on top of you, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush you.
“s-shit are you…?” the realization hits him that he just came inside you.
“i’m on the pill” you assure, softly smile at him, both of you breathing heavily at this point.
he smiles back, kissing you and slowly pulling out, making you whine, he tucks himself back into his sweatpants, an obvious stain on the front of his pants.
he gently pulls your shirt back over your tits, but not before giving them a soft kiss each. you giggle at him.
“are you feeling ok? do you need anything?” he asks, stroking your head and fixing your loose hairs. acting like he wasn’t just fucking your brains out.
you nod, giving him another peck on the lips, this time he pouts when you pull away.
safe to say, you were over your ex.
a/n: raven try to write soft smut challenge: impossible. lowkey got carried away but i hope u like it!!
thank u for the request i lovedddd writing this mwuah <3
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earthtooz · 1 year
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fluff with a lot of angst, reader is injured and in hospital for one scene but it's not graphic, lovesick!bakugou
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during the many years you’ve loved bakugou katsuki, you have only seen him cry three times.
the first time, you were alarmed. where you fell asleep on the couch awaiting your boyfriend’s return, you did not expect to wake up to the sound of sniffles and the sight of drying tears.
“katsuki? what’s the matter?” you asked cautiously, immediately sitting up to wipe his tears away.
your touch, like a healing balm to the blond, lets you treat him like glass when both of you know he is nothing akin to fragile.
“‘s nothin’,” he gruffly huffs, voice cracking a little.
“if you say so,” you murmur skeptically, knowing better than to prod when it’s bakugou involved.
“were ya waitin’ for me?”
you nod. “i thought we could eat together but- what time is it?”
“almost nine.”
“oh. i thought we could eat dinner together but your patrol must have ended a lot later.”
his heart aches pitifully, worsening when he watches you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to come home so late.”
“it’s okay, i get it.”
“we can still eat together, if that’s okay,” he grumbles, looking away bashfully and missing the way your face brightens.
“that sounds lovely, i’ll go heat up dinner-“
“-no, i’ll do it. it’s my fault for coming home later, i’ll call you when it's done.”
bakugou is out of your sight before you can argue any further. as you watch your boyfriend disappear, you’re left pondering on the couch as to why he was acting so uncharacteristically. did he have a bad day? did something happen at work? was he unable to save someone? that’s can't be the reason, he always-
“dinner’s done!” your boyfriend calls from the kitchen, disrupting your thoughts.
when you asked, it didn't sound like he had a terrible day, in fact it sounds like he had a successful patrol, but you cannot fathom any other reason for his melancholy, but if he’s forgotten about it, then you will too.
but... bakugou doesn’t forget. he still remembers when midoriya first alluded to the inheritance of his quirk from all might, he remembers the night vision goggles kirishima broke when trying to save him that one time, he remembers your favourite things and what makes you happy; he remembers everything.
and he’ll never forget that the tears he shed tonight were over the fact that bakugou will never get to show you how much he loves you.
bakugou katsuki, for the first time, realised just how painfully human he is.
he has a heart that beats for you, limbs that longingly ache to be near you whenever he’s not, a mind devoted to you and a cursed mouth so incapable of expressing it all.
if he could, he would wrestle the night sky to give its stars to you instead because you love stars. you love the stupid things in life that bakugou can't give. he can’t give you everything you could ever want and with that realisation, bakugou discovered just how beatable he was.
you may never know the multitude of bakugou’s love for you, and that fact alone brings him to tears as he gazed upon your sleeping figure on the couch, resting peacefully until his arrival.
the second time, you wake up confused.
the lights in the room are dim, there's a machine beeping intermittently and you think it's a heartbeat monitor but you don't really think too hard about it because your body hurts.
you have to blink a few times to get the blurriness out of your eyes, but you eventually comprehend the sterile walls of a hospital room. then the memories come back one by one, a patrol gone awry, evacuating citizens and... ah, being slammed into a wall back-first by the villain. explains the pain.
then you register the looming figure beside your bed, a pair of widened vermillion eyes gazing into your own with untameable blond hair to match, you can't help the smile from spreading on your face when you see your lover.
"hey," you cough weakly, throat dry and scratchy from lack of use.
next thing you know, bakugou's bulky figure is draped over yours, forehead resting on your chest as his arms gently snake around your torso, bringing you into his chest and pressing himself firmly against you.
you feel him; his relief, his sorrow, his devotion, his painful sobs as he shakes against you and it kills you that the only thing you have the strength to do is run a hand through his hair. you want to kiss him, to tell him that it's okay and that there's nothing to cry about, that you're here and nothing will change that, but you're so very sore and barely in tact.
"don't do this shit again," he threatens weakly and you feel his tears seep through your hospital gown. "you had me so fuckin' worried, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, i can't believe you'd do this to me, do you know how much it sucked to be without you?"
"sorry, katsuki," you whisper and he looks up at you, glossy eyes and quivering lip.
"promise me you'll never do this again."
cupping his cheeks with your hands, there's a rush of deja vu as your thumbs catch his tears. "i don't know how realistic that promise is given that this is my job-"
"-your job is to save lives, not go crashin' into buildings, idiot."
you laugh gently, a stabbing pain making itself known in your gut when you do. your wince doesn't go unnoticed by bakugou, who knows you better than the back of his hand and his heart lurches at the slightest evidence that you're in pain. "still, i won't make promises i can't keep, you know how our jobs are, katsuki."
he frowns, furrowing his brows. "then i'll promise to always be there for you. don't go where i can't."
"that's not realistic."
"watch me."
"okay then, deal."
there are questions you still want answers to, but for now, you'll let the blond continue crying with his ear pressed against your chest.
(you won't ever know about the few days bakugou has spent in your hospital ward, absolutely miserable as he looks upon your gaze with anticipation. he hates how helpless he is, that he can't do anything to rid of this horrible feeling in his chest but wait for you to wake up. he hates that he can't any semblance of peace, he hates the man that love has made him, but most importantly, he hates being without you.
you won't ever know the struggle it was to get bakugou out of your room for even just an hour. midoriya and kirishima had to wrestle him in hopes of getting some proper food together, and yaomomo and todoroki had to literally block the door with various items to prevent his entrance.
you won't ever know how alienated bakugou felt, unable to face your shared home without you in it. without your music playing, without your shoes messily thrown at the genkan, without your comforting presence to return to when all is said and done, there isn't much of a home for bakugou.
you won't ever know how desperately bakugou clung to your hand, fiddling with it whenever he needed a safe haven.
you won't ever know the amount of tears the blond had shed by your side, hunched over your bed, with nothing and no one to comfort him but the sound of the heartbeat monitor.)
the third time, you cry too.
it's your wedding day.
when the news first came out, japan practically roared with excitement and anticipation for the special day that their two favourite heroes would wed. the enthusiasm has not dimmed down even months later, and now, as you're one door away from your lover, you feel it buzzing in your bones.
it all goes by in a blur. one second you're about to trip over yourself in nervousness and the next, you're walking down the aisle with a stunned bakugou failing to keep his composure at the altar. despite the amount of close friends and family around you, all you can see is the love of your life who looks at you with unmatched adoration and affection in those ruby irises of his.
up close, however, all you can see are the tears forming in his eyes, and his first sniffle takes everyone in the room by surprise. no doubt, this is their first and last time seeing their beloved hero cry.
more tears are shed and then, it's just waterworks from practically everyone in the room as bakugou breaks down even more.
thank goodness for a private wedding because you know he is never going to live it down if the press got their hands on this image.
a close friend of yours hands you a handkerchief and you wipe away bakugou's tears with a teasing smile, unable to keep your wobbly laughter at bay as your lover- japan's symbol of victory and heroism, turns to nothing but putty in your hands. he lets you treat him so delicately because you've seen him at his lowest, most shaken, and most unlovable, yet still decided to stay.
"sorry," he apologises as you dab at his tears, words reserved for you and you alone. "you're just so... divine. i can't believe i'm marryin' you."
you feel your first tear roll down your cheek and bakugou catches it before it can go too far, wiping it away.
"such an embarrassin' way to start our wedding," he grumbles.
"embarrassing for the both of us, but memorable no doubt," you try to reason.
"everything is memorable as long as i'm with you."
"such a sap," you whack his shoulder lightly. "have you been saving that line for today specifically?"
"you should wait til the vows. bet mine are better than yours."
"i didn't know you could be a poet."
"only for you."
"well then, i can't wait to find out what else you are, katsuki."
"i'll always be yours."
you laugh, "i'm glad to hear that 'cause i love you."
"i love you even more, i'm crying just to prove it."
"your tears are dangerous."
"yeah well, you're marryin' these tears so."
"like i said, i can't wait."
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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ilwonuu · 2 months
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please me
⇢ ˗ˏˋ yang jeongin࿐ྂ
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☆ paring- meandom!jeongin x sub!reader
☆ warnings- rough sex, tease!jeongin, dirty talk, slight degrading, unprotected sex(guys i know), multiple rounds, mutiple creampies, masturbation (m), praising kink, smut with no plot, jeongin is very needy, lmk what else
☆ summary- you’ve never seen this side of your boyfriend. you love it so much. a little too much.
☆ a/n- i loved writing this. i got kinda carried away.. HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY!!! 400 follower celebration!!!!<33
☆ word count- 1,050
jeongin has been suffering silently. he wants you so bad it’s not even funny anymore. him quietly loudly jerking off in your bathroom. too embarrassed to wake you up to help him. unknowingly waking you up anyways with his loud moans and cries for you.
“jeongin?” you call out for him. he quickly shifts in the bathroom pulling his pants up trying to hide his erection. stepping out of the bathroom as soon as he looks presentable. or he thinks.
“sorry -uh did i wake you?” you shake your head innocently. pretending to not hear a thing.
“no just missed you. come lay with me?” he nods quickly joining you back in your shared bed. he pulls you into his arms cuddling you. your back pressed against his chest. his dick getting harder as he feels you start to grind back against him. “innie?” you call out to him.
“y-yea?” you smirk slightly. “want you so bad. need you.” you moan slightly. he almost cums just from your words. “w-what? what do you mean-“ he questions. you start the grind back against him again.
“o-oh fuck.” his hands going to your hips. “fuck me jeongin- i want it so bad.” he thinks he might die right there. something shifts in him.
immediately loving the sound of you begging for him. “keep telling me how bad you want it.” he takes in your appearance seeing as you’re wearing his shirt and your underwear only.
he groans not even taking the time to pull your underwear off. pulling it to the side as he pulls pajama pants down to pull his dick out.
“you think you can t-take it?” he tries to act like he isn’t about cum all over your ass. he wants to seem composed. not sure if you’re believing his act. you know he’s just as needy as you.
“fuck me innie. know how bad you want it.” he can’t simply disagree with that statement. his dick rubbing against your slit teasingly. his groans are loud against your ear.
“you’re so fucking- open your fucking legs wider. just like that.” he says in a smirk. forcing your legs open more as he pushes his dick into you.
“been thinking a-about this all day.” his movements and his words causing you to squirm. his confidence going up quicker than you expected. his voice sounds so good. as he starts to fuck you stupid on your bed.
“in-innie slow down-“ his hands haven’t moved from your hips. you try to run away. his grip tightening to hold you in place. “fuck, you are taking it so good tho? you like it like this right?”
he laughs at your needy moan. your plan to tease him backfiring on you. he is teasing you loving the way you fall apart for him.
“you never answered like a good girl. only good girls get fucked like this. answer me pretty or i’ll stop.” the last thing you want him to do is stop. quickly trying to form words. “please d-don’t stop. so good shit-“ he shifts to move on top of you. fucking you deeper spreading your legs wider. if that was even possible.
“you’re so fucking wet. sliding in so good. wanted to do this all day.” his thrusts are hitting you in the perfect spots. you are moaning for him.
his dirty talk making you more aroused. “good fucking girl. can’t wait to cum inside you. you want that right? tell me you want it.” his face making a teasing mocking expression of your pleasured face.
“p-please cum in me.” he laughs at your state. “yea? don’t you worry. gonna fill you up- fuck.” as soon as his words leave his mouth your clenching on his dick. “cum on it. just like that. fucking you so good.”
his hips speeding up as you come undone making a mess where you two are connected. “gonna fuck my c-cum so deep- take it all baby.” his hips losing rhythm as he sloppily fucks you full of his cum.
“got to stay full for me. fuck- can hear how full you are baby. so fucking good.” his hips don’t stop fucking into you just yet. “you think we’re done? how cute? gonna take more of my cum. you can do it right. my good girl.”
how would you ever say no? you wanted it so bad. his hips stopping as you feel him pull out of you. “n-no please want it-“ he cuts you off.
“relax baby. gonna give you everything you want. just turn over for me.” he doesn’t know how he is managing to keep it all together.
watching you turn over to lay on your stomach. he doesn’t wait a second before he is rubbing his dick against you again. pushing in slightly.
“so fucking- tight.” he his roughly but slowly rocking his dick into you. “jeongin-“ you feel so dizzy in the best way. no was has fucked you rid of your thoughts. all you can think about is how you’re gonna want this all the time. “feel good? you look so pretty baby.”
he pulls your back up against his chest fucking you at a deeper angle. “o-oh innie-“ his smirk would be so annoying to others but he looked so good teasing you. well from what you can say from looking back at him. loving the way you fell apart for him.
“yea i know- feels so good like this? such a good girl. gonna fill you up with so much cum.” his dirty talk getting more and more desperate as he his completely shameless.
“i’m cumming-“ you say shaking against him. “yeah fuck just like that. s-so close.” he feels you cum again. making a wetter mess on his dick. “innie-“ he groans at the nickname. cum filling you up. “take it fucking all.” he thrusts hard fucking his cum inside deeper.
“so perfect for me. such a good girl. “ you moan again calming down slightly. his dick slowly down as he pulls out of you. “was i too rough?” he asks immediately concerned at your tired body. you shake you head.
“no- i loved it. you never told me you were a menace in bed.” he laughs a little kissing your lips after. “only for you.”
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hollyseb · 4 months
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YOU’RE NOT OKAY, YOU’RE SHAKING - oneshot
CEO!Bucky x Reader
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Warnings: swearing, violence
just a short one for this week bc I’m in the middle of exams !! as always, please let me know what you thing :)
You’d been working as Bucky's assistant for a couple of weeks. You settled in fairly well, although you had to admit you found him a little intimidating.
You tried your best to stay out of his hair, planting his schedule on his desk before he got into the office, and scurrying out when the clock hit 5. When you did face each other, it often involved you sending him a squeaky “hi” with a small smile, and him shooting you a curt nod.
That’s why when one of Bucky’s clients was rude to you, no… downright nasty, you chose to keep your mouth shut.
Rumlow.
God, you dreaded every time you saw him on Bucky’s meeting schedule.
It started with exaggerated sighs, then emphasised head shaking whenever he laid his eyes on you. It was almost comical, really. You’d snort at his behavior if he didn’t make you feel so conscious. You could feel the dislike roiling from him.
It wasn’t until today though, that he finally let his discontempt be known.
You were acutely aware of your controversial presence at the office. You were much younger than everyone else, pretty too. So when you strolled in with your baby pink sweaters, and the fresh bouquet of flowers on your desk, you knew people were judging you.
You walked out of your office, hands clutching disordered papers, and unfortunately, you weren’t watching where you were going.
You rounded the corner and immediately collided with a wall of muscle. You were opening your mouth to spew out a hastened apology, heat rising in your cheeks, when you were cut off.
“Stupid bitch”, the man muttered, shouldering past you.
You were frozen in place, paralysed by embarrassment, unable to breathe. Your feet carried you back to your office, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You sat down in your office chair, brushing your hair behind your ears when your office door opened gently.
God no. Your boss had seen the encounter. No, no, no. You were embarrassed enough. You didn’t need Bucky to see you cry. You kept your eyes locked on the floor as he approached you.
“Hey”, his voice much more gentle than you had ever heard it before, “are you okay?” He kneeled at your chair.
“Y-yes, I’m fine really, Bucky”, you shrugged him off, avoiding his eyes. Suddenly feeling conscious at the way he had positioned himself before you.
“Look at me”, he almost sounded like he was pleading with you. He placed a hand on your knee, rubbing small circles with his thumb.
You looked at him through blurry vision, afraid that the waterworks would burst if he paid you any more attention. You wanted to shove him away, to tell him to let you gather yourself, like a professional would. He continued, “you’re not okay, you’re shaking”.
“I just-”, you sighed shakily, “he’s always been like this, y’know just rude…”, Bucky listened intently as you rambled on, his eyes soft and sympathetic. He really listened to you.
When you finished your venting session, you felt undeniably lighter. Bucky’s hand still sitting on your knee. His other hand rose to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. You felt heat rise in your cheeks. You’d never seen this side to Bucky, he was… almost charming.
He cut your thoughts short, “come on, let me drive you home”.
You immediately shook your head, “no, no, I can’t let you do that Bucky, and plus, you’ve got a client waiting”, hinting at Rumlows presence.
“Him?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow at you sarcastically, “he was let go the second he called you stupid”.
You gaped at that, not expecting Bucky to fire one of his most frequent clients. You tried to start reasoning with him, about how one small issue couldn’t interfere with his business.
He interrupted your rambling, “you should’ve told me sooner, really”. He was guiding you up from your chair, placing a hand on your lower back and grabbing your bag for you.
Bucky drove you home, slowly and with care, keeping one hand on your knee the whole time.
When you pulled up to your apartment, your boss got out and opened the passenger door for you. A gentleman, as always. You smiled at that. Maybe your intimidating boss has a soft spot for you.
He ran a hand down your arm, “nobody will ever speak to you like that again. I’ll make sure of it.” His calm demeanor contrasting the grit in his voice. You could tell he would keep his promise.
You didn’t need to know how Bucky sped back to his office and beat Rumlow so hard his jaw broke. More importantly, you didn’t need to know the way Bucky reveled in it. The feeling of protecting you, avenging you. He was drunk on it.
Later that night, you received a bouquet of flowers, and a takeout from your favourite place. A smirk rising on your face… Bucky.
TAGLIST
@kandis-mom
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jongseongsnudes · 3 months
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team captain
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bf!nishimura. 1k words. so flufffffffy. [note]: this can be read alone or as apart of my badboy!niki series drabbles. warning, it’s so cringey and cute i’m literally kicking my feet lmao
“oh my god look how brown it’s getting!” you cheer more to yourself than anyone, the sight of your marshmallow changing colour over the fire exciting you a little too much.
after getting it perfect, you finally look up to realise that everyone who was sitting around the bonfire before... was now gone. how or when, you’re not even sure, but the loud chatting and laughter coming from inside the house tells you that they’re all inside now.
shrugging, you get up from your squatting position and was about to head inside too when you notice niki, sitting in his chair right behind you with the cutest grin on his face. the boy had been so quiet the entire time that you didn’t even know he was there.
you’re so startled by his appearance that you almost fall backwards but luckily for you, your team captain boyfriend was quick to grab your arm, pulling you to him. specifically, onto his lap. you’re now seated across his lap, his arms around your waist to hold you, his face just a breath away from yours.
gulp.
the boy was truly the most handsomest you’ve ever seen. no matter how many times you see him, his face still manages to surprise you, just like the very first time. it’s something you’ll never admit to him though, not when his head was already so big.
“i’m starting to think you’re clumsy on purpose, just so i can save you,” he rolls his eyes at you, “because i don’t know anyone as clumsy as you.”
“w- well you should’ve said something! you scared me!”
“right. as if you didn’t sense me staring at you the entire time?”
“you-” you pause, brows raising at the realisation of his words, “... why were you staring at me the entire time nishimura? creep!”
instead of an insulting response like you had fully expected from him, the boy stays completely silent. his eyes however, drops down to your lips, gazing at it for a few moments. you’re unsure of what his intentions were but it was making you nervous either way.
“what? can’t i stare at my girlfriend?”
gulp.
“well- well yeah but! but! but make some noise next time-”
to your surprise, niki leans in without warning, kissing you and shutting you up. seeing you so startled yet again, the boy immediately breaks into laughter like it was he funniest thing to him.
“you don’t understand how pretty you are, miss class president,” he says with a smile, one so sweet you swore your heart just melted over it, “you’d be staring at you too if you were me.”
you’ve been together for a few months now and although you’ve had your fair share of sweet moments, this time topped it all. his gaze, his smile, his words, all seemed so genuine. like he meant every single thing.
everyone knew how niki was, someone so tsundere, so unbothered, so unserious, so seeing him this way had your emotions and thoughts going wild.
it had you thinking if this could really last, if it could really be more than just a stupid high school relationship.
it had you thinking about your future after high school, whether you and him could really make it work. you haven’t brought up the topic with him, but it has surely been on your mind more with graduation quickly approaching.
“it better be me you’re thinking of right now in this head of yours,” he playfully knocks into your head, bringing you out of your deep thoughts, “or else you have no reason to be smiling like that.”
“unfortunately... it always is. you and your... big mouth!”
the face he makes is one of anger, confusion and surprise, all in one. the view instantly had you in giggles, so much so that you almost fall off his lap. but the boy doesn’t let you have your moment for too long, his fingers at your waist, ready to do what they do best.
“niki- no- no- ahhh!”
you were giggling again, only this time it was caused by niki nishimura tickling your sides. you wanted to run away from the boy, but how could you when you’re trapped in his hold, on his lap. there was literally no escape!
“ni- nish- nishimura! stop! please!”
the boy really does do as asked, stopping his fingers and quickly helping you fix your creased up top. he’s also laughing, eyes in complete moon shapes at your struggles, and although you want to smack him, you end up chuckling as well.
“so... can i kiss you now with my big mouth or?”
“since when do you even ask?” you playfully roll your eyes, “what’s with you today? you’re being a bit weird. more so than usual.”
“ha funny,” the boy mocks you, his fingers reaching up to flick your forehead, “maybe i just realised how much i actually like you.”
you could feel your cheeks immediately heating up, hands a little clammy from his sudden confession, but it’s his gaze that catches you off guard. the way they’re looking directly into yours, with so much hope, so much adoration. you have no idea how to respond to him but you do know that your heart is currently going crazy in your chest.
“you just realised? pfffft,” you manage to make a joke, using it to hide away your current urge of wanting to scream and kick your feet at how cute he looked.
“yeah... and it’s crazy how much i actually do.”
now it was your turn to go quiet, no longer laughing or making jokes. without thought, you lean in and kiss the boy. softly and sweetly.
niki’s arms around you tighten as yours rest on his chest, the two of you enjoying the moment in silence. it’s crazy when you realise how your relationship with him used to be like, full of screaming and fighting every single day.
it was too early to claim you l-word the tall boy but judging from how you were currently feeling, you’re sure you’re almost there.
“nishimura-”
“OH MY GOD! NOT THE MARSHMALLOW! what did the marshmallow do to you guys?!” both you and niki turn towards the dramatic voice, just to see taki and maki both staring at the ground where you had dropped your much forgotten marshmallow earlier.
“i dropped it by accident-”
“because you guys were busy making out??” maki chimes in, his expression so sad you’d think something actually happened, “don’t you guys do that enough?? i saw you two in the lockerroom yesterday too!”
“it’s like that’s all you guys do. our captain is such a simp-”
the two boys immediately stop talking once they notice the change in niki’s face, one so grim, so irritated. similar to the one he usually had during practice... before a finals game.
even you were scared of that face, let alone the boys on the team.
“i’ll be right back baby,” the team captain says calmly while helping you to stand up. he pats the back of your head before turning to face the two screaming boys who were already sprinting around the yard.
you can’t help but giggle at the sight, a memory you’ll surely hold onto for a very long time. although your future with niki remains unclear, you realise that what mattered more was now, in this very moment.
and in this very moment, you were happy.
end.
2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST. 
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rninies · 3 months
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✮ so you do like me - gojo satoru
synopsis: you and gojo confess in an unexpected situation.
warnings: fluff, chaotic reader and gojo, gn!reader, gojo is tiny bit oblivious — wc: 746
notes: i love oblivious gojo i think hes so stupid (affectionate)
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gojo satoru is annoying.
you’re saying this as his best friend who’s been with him for years, and even though you’ve been friends for that long, he’s never failed to annoy the shit out of you. there’s never a day where he doesn’t bother you about the stupidest stuff ever — you remember getting a call from him at three in the morning asking if you had any spare hand soap at your place (you got mad at him for a day for that).
hearing satoru sigh for the tenth time today, you turned to look at him. “what is it? why are you so… gloomy today?”
“nothing,” he repeats the same answer he gave you two minutes ago which makes you sigh as well, giving up on asking any more questions. when he sees your uninterested eyes, he sits up straight. “okay, well, i have this problem and you’re my closest friend but-” satoru groans, leaning back against the chair and placing a hand over his face.
that piqued your interest. “but?”
“it’s hard.” satoru shakes his head in distress. “it’s so annoying i can’t talk about it.”
your eyebrows furrowed. “what do you mean you can’t talk about it? you can always talk about anything with me.”
“no, see! that’s the problem here.” satoru stands up and walks towards you. “do you know how goddamn hard it is having a crush on someone and not being able to talk about it with the only person you want to talk to it about because it’s about them?” he exclaims, frustrated at himself.
you paused. “yes, i do. i absolutely do and it’s horrible. trust me, satoru, i know.”
“how do you know? i’ve never seen you look at anyone with hearts in your eyes.” satoru narrows his eyes. “i’ve never even heard you talk about crushes ever since we became friends!”
“you’re so dense.” you sighed, finally mustering up the courage to say it. “it’s you, dumbass. i’ve had a crush on you like two weeks after we became friends. i’ve never talked about crushes with you because it’s you i have a crush on. how am i supposed to talk about being in love with you to you?”
“huh?” satoru freezes in his place, brain malfunctioning with the information you just gave him. “wait- huh?”
“take all the time you need, toru.” you crossed your arms, patiently waiting for satoru to say something coherent.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING TO ME?” satoru bursts, arms flailing around. “we- why didn’t you say anything about having a crush on me? wasn’t i obvious with my feelings for you?! i thought you would’ve known about what i felt when i-”
“when you what?”
“when i gave you my last piece of chicken nugget!” he exclaims.
you paused. “seriously? you giving me your last chicken nugget is a sign of love?”
“have you never read or watched anything romantic? people would usually give up their last piece of their favorite food to their lover!” satoru asks, and you shake your head making satoru gasp. “you’re so uncultured.”
“um? i meant that i had never seen anyone do that. ever.” you replied. “you’re the one who’s watching weird “romance” movies!”
“don’t you dare call my romance movies weird! you just have to watch it with me and you’ll be in love immediately.” satoru huffs, walking closer to you so that you can smell his cologne. “so? what do we do now?”
“are you just going to stand in front of me and not ask me out on a date?” you asked, and satoru laughed, pulling you into a tight hug.
“so,” satoru says as soon as he removes his arms form you. “you had a crush on me, hm?”
you scoff. “as if you didn’t.”
“it is because i’m absolutely irresistible?” satoru gives you a smug smile.
“as if.” you reply. “no, it’s because you’re an idiot, and-” you paused, taking in a deep breath, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “and i can’t imagine life without you.”
“oh my god.” satoru gasps. “you’re such a romantic! aw, y/n!” he embraces you once more, but this time, you tripped and ended up falling on the bed, his figure crushing you.
“satoru-” you wheeze, slapping his back. “can’t breathe. let. go.”
“no way. i’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” satoru smiles down at you. “i love you.”
your ears turn red and you immediately look away. “...i love you too.”
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taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts (send an ask to be added!) <3
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artsekey · 5 months
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Disney's Wish
Look, Disney's Wish has been universally panned across the internet, and for good reason.
It’s just…kind of okay.
 When we sit down to watch a Disney film—you know, from the company that dominated the animation industry from 1989 to (arguably) the mid 2010’s and defined the medium of animation for decades—we expect something magnificent. Now, I could sit here and tell you everything that I thought was wrong with Wish, but if you’re reading this review, then I imagine that you’ve already heard the most popular gripes from other users across the web. So, let me focus in:
The biggest problem with Wish—in fact, the only problem with Wish—is Magnifico.
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Whoa, that’s crazy! There’re so many things about Wish that could’ve been better! The original concept was stronger! The music was bad--
I hear you, I do. But stay with me here, okay? Take my hand. I studied under artists from the Disney renaissance. I teach an adapted model of Disney’s story pipeline at a University level. I spent a ridiculous amount of time getting degrees in this, and I am about to dissect this character and the narrative to a stupid degree.
First, we need to understand that a good story doesn’t start and end with what we see on the screen. Characters aren’t just fictional people; when used well, characters are tools the author uses (or in this case, the director) to convey their message to the audience. Each character’s struggle should in some way engage with the story’s message, and consequently, the story’s theme. Similarly, when we look at our protagonist and our antagonist, we should see their characters and their journeys reflected in one-another.
So, what went wrong between Asha & Magnifico in terms of narrative structure?
Act I
In Wish, we’re introduced to our hero not long into the runtime—Asha. She’s ambitious, caring, and community-oriented; in fact, Asha is truly introduced to the audience through her love of Rosas (in “Welcome to Rosas”).  She’s surrounded by a colorful cast of friends who act as servants in the palace, furthering her connection with the idea of community but also telling us that she’s not of status, and then she makes her way to meet Magnifico for her chance to become his next apprentice.
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Quick aside: I'm not going to harp on Asha as a character in the context of Disney's overall canon. Almost every review I've seen covers her as a new addition to Disney's ever-growing repertoire of "Cute Quirky Heroines", and I think to be fair to Asha as an actor in the narrative, it serves her best to be weighed within the context of the story she's part of.
As Asha heads upstairs for her interview, we're introduced to the man of the hour: Magnifico. He lives in a tower high above the population of Rosas, immediately showing us how he differs from Asha; he’s disconnected from his community. He lives above them. He has status. While the broader context of the narrative wants us to believe that this also represents a sense of superiority, I would argue that isn’t what Magnifico’s introduction conveys; he's isolated.
Despite this distance, he does connect with Asha in “At All Costs”. For a moment, their goals and values align. In fact, they align so well that Magnifico sees Asha as someone who cares as much about Rosas as he does, and almost offers her the position.
… Until she asks him to grant Saba’s wish.
This is framed by the narrative as a misstep. The resonance between their ideals snaps immediately, and Magnifico says something along the line of “Wow. Most people wait at least a year before asking for something.”
This disappointment isn't played as coming from a place of power or superiority. He was excited by the idea of working with someone who had the same values as he did, who viewed Rosas in the same way he does, and then learns that Asha’s motivations at least partially stem from a place of personal gain.
Well, wait, is that really Asha's goal?
While it's not wholistically her goal, it's very explicitly stated & implied that getting Saba's wish granted is at least a part of it. The audience learns (through Asha's conversation with her friends before the interview) that every apprentice Magnifico has ever had gets not only their wish granted, but the wishes of their family, too!  Asha doesn’t deny that this is a perk that she’s interested in, and I don't think this is a bad thing.
So, Is Asha’s commitment to Saba selfless, or selfish? I’m sure the director wanted it to seem selfless, wherein she believes her family member has waited long enough and deserves his wish granted, but we can’t ignore the broader context of Asha essentially trying to… skip the line.
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Then, we get our first point of tension. Magnifico reveals his “true colors” in snapping at Asha, telling her that he “decides what people deserve”. This is supposed to be the great motivator, it’s meant to incite anger in the audience—after all, no one gets to decide what you deserve, right? But unfortunately for the integrity of the film and the audience's suspension of disbelief, at least part of Magnifico’s argument is a little too sound to ignore:
Some wishes are too vague and dangerous to grant. Now, there’s visual irony here; he says this after looking at a 100 old man playing the lute. The idea that something so innocuous could be dangerous is absurd, and the audience is meant to agree.
... But we’ve also seen plenty of other wishes that might be chaotic—flying on a rocket to space, anyone? The use of the word vague is important, too—this implies wording matters, and that a wish can be misinterpreted or evolve into something that is dangerous even if the original intent was innocuous. His reasoning for people forgetting their wish (protecting them from the sadness of being unable to attain their dreams) is much weaker, but still justifiable (in the way an antagonist’s flawed views can be justified). The film even introduces a facet of Magnifico’s backstory that implies he has personal experience with the grief of losing a dream (in the destruction of his home), but that thread is never touched on again.
              What is the audience supposed to take from this encounter? If we’re looking at the director’s intent, I’d argue that we’ve been introduced to a well-meaning young girl and a king who’s locked away everyone’s greatest aspiration because he believes he deserves to have the power to decide who gets to be happy.
              But what are we shown? Our heroine, backed by her friends, strives to be Magnifico’s apprentice because she loves the city but also would really like to see her family's wishes granted. When this request is denied and she loses the opportunity to be his apprentice, she deems Magnifico’s judgement unfair & thus begins her journey to free the dreams of Rosas’ people.
              In fairness, Magnifico doesn’t exhibit sound judgement or kindness through this act of the film. He’s shown to be fickle, and once his composure cracks, he can be vindictive and sharp. He's not a good guy, but I'd argue he's not outright evil. He's just got the makings of a good villain, and those spikes of volatility do give us a foundation to work off of as he spirals, but as we’ll discuss in a bit, the foreshadowing established here isn’t used to the ends it implies.
              While I was watching this film, I was sure Magnifico was going to be a redeemable villain. He can’t connect with people because he's sure they value what he provides more than they value him (as seen in “At All Costs” and the aftermath), and Asha’s asking for more was going to be framed as a mistake. His flaw was keeping his people too safe and never giving them the chance to sink or swim, and he's too far removed from his citizens to see that he is appreciated. Asha does identify this, and the culmination of her journey is giving people the right to choose their path, but the way Magnifico becomes the “true” villain and his motivations for doing so are strangely divorced from what we’re shown in Act I.  
Act II:
His song, “This is the Thanks I Get!?” furthers the idea that Magnifico’s ire—and tipping point—is the fact that he thinks the people he’s built a kingdom for still want more. Over the course of this 3:14 song, we suddenly learn that Magnifico sends other people to help his community and doesn’t personally get involved (we never see this outside of this song), and that he’s incredibly vain/narcissistic (he's definitely a narcissist). I think feeling under-appreciated is actually a very strong motivation for Magnifico as a character-turning-villain, and it works very well. It’s justified based on what we’ve seen on screen so far: he feels under-appreciated (even though he’s decidedly not—the town adores him), he snaps and acts irrationally under stress (as seen with his outburst with Asha), and he’s frustrated that people seem to want more from him (again, as seen with his conversation with Asha in Act I).
              But then… he opens the book.
Ah, the book. As an object on screen, we know that it's filled with ancient and evil magic, well-known to be cursed by every relevant character in the film, and kept well-secured under lock and key. But what does it stand for in the context of the narrative's structure? A quick path to power? We're never told that it has any redeeming qualities; Magnifico himself doesn't seem to know what he's looking for when he opens it. It feels... convenient.
I think it's also worth noting that he only turns to the book when he's alone; once again, the idea of connection and community rears it's ugly head! Earlier in the film, Amaya-- his wife-- is present and turns him away from taking that path. In her absence, he makes the wrong choice.
This decision could make sense; it contains powerful magic, and if it were framed in such a way that the people of Rosas were losing faith in Magnifico’s magic, as if what he can do might not be enough anymore after what they felt from Star, going for the book that we know contains spells that go above and beyond what he can already do would be logical. Along the lines of, “If they’re not happy with what I do for them, fine. I, ever the “martyr”, will do the unthinkable for you, because you want more.”
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            It would keeps with the idea that Magnifico believes he's still trying to help people, but his motivation has taken his self-imposed pity party and turned it into resentment and spite.
 But, that’s not the case. Instead he talks about reversing that “light”, which has had no real negative or tangible consequences on Rosas. Everyone had a warm feeling for a few seconds. Again, it’s meant to paint him as a vain control freak, but… he hasn’t lost any power. The citizens of Rosas even assume the great showing of magic was Magnifico.
Act III
              Then, we get to the consequences of opening the book (and perhaps my biggest qualm with this film). The book is established as being cursed. Magnifico knows it, Asha knows it, and Amaya—who is introduced as loyal-- knows it. The characters understand his behavior is a direct result of the book, and search for a way to save him. This is only the focus of the film for a few seconds, but if you think about it, the fact that his own wife cannot find a way to free him of the curse he’s been put under is unbelievably tragic. Worse still, upon discovering there is no way to reverse the curse, Magnifico—the king who built the city & “protected it” in his own flawed way for what seems to be centuries—is thrown out by his wife. You know, the wife who's stood loyal at his side for years?
              It’s played for laughs, but there’s something unsettling about a character who’s clearly and explicitly under the influence of a malevolent entity being left… unsaved. If you follow the idea of Magnifico being disconnected from community being a driving force behind his arc, the end of the film sees him in a worse situation he was in at the start: truly, fully alone.
              They bring in so many opportunities for Magnifico to be sympathetic and act as a foil for Asha; he’s jaded, she’s not. He’s overly cautious (even paranoid), she’s a risk-taker. He turns to power/magic at his lowest point, Asha turns to her friends at her lowest point. Because this dichotomy isn’t present, and Magnifico—who should be redeemable—isn’t, the film is so much weaker than it could’ve been. The lack of a strong core dynamic between the protagonist and antagonist echoes through every facet of the film from the music to the characterization to the pacing, and I believe if Magnifico had been more consistent, the film would’ve greatly improved across the board.
I mean, come on! Imagine if at the end of the film, Asha—who, if you remember, did resonate with Magnifico’s values at the start of the film—recognizes that he's twisted his original ideals and urges him to see the value in the people he’s helped, in their ingenuity, in their gratitude, & that what he was able to do before was enough. Going further, asking what his wish is or was—likely something he’s never been asked— and showing empathy! We’d come full circle to the start of the film where Asha asks him to grant her wish.
Pushing that further, if Magnifico’s wish is to see Rosas flourish or to be a good/beloved king, he'd have the the opportunity to see the value in failing and how pursuing the dream is its own complex and valuable journey, and how not even he is perfect.
 The curse and the book (which, for the purposes of this adjustment, would need to be established as representing the idea of stepping on others to further your own goals/the fast way to success), then serve as the final antagonist, that same curse taking root in the people of Rosas who’ve had their dreams destroyed, and Asha works with the community to quell it. Asha’s learned her lesson, so has Magnifico, and the true source of evil in the film—the book—is handled independently. Magnifico steps back from his role as King, Amaya still ends up as Queen, and Asha takes her place as the new wish-granter.
This route could even give us the true “Disney villain” everyone’s craving; giving the book sentience and having it lure Magnifico in during “This is the Thanks I Get!?” leaves it as its own chaotic evil entity.
All in all, Magnifico's introduction paved a road to redemption that the rest of the film aggressively refused to deliver on, instead doubling down on weaker motivations that seem to appear out of thin air. Once the audience thinks, hey, that bad guy might have a point, the protagonist has to do a little more heavy lifting to convince us they're wrong.
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Look at the big-bad-greats from Disney's library. There isn't a point in the Lion King where we pause and think, "Wait a second, maybe Scar should be the guy who rules the Pridelands." Ursula from the Little Mermaid, though motivated by her banishment from King Triton's Seas, never seems to be the right gal for the throne. Maybe Maleficent doesn't get invited to the princess's birthday party, but we don't watch her curse a baby and think, Yeah, go curse that baby, that's a reasonable response to getting left out.
What do they all have in common? Their motivation is simple, their goal is clear, and they don't care who they hurt in pursuit of what they want.
Magnifico simply doesn't fall into that category. He's motivated by the idea of losing power, which is never a clear or impactful threat. His goal at the start seems to be to protect Rosas, then it turns into protecting his own power, and then-- once he's corrupted-- he wants to capture Star. The problem is, there's no objective to put this power toward. Power for power's sake is useless. Scar craves power because he feels robbed of status. Ursula believes the throne is rightfully hers. Maleficent wanted to make a statement. Magnifico... well, I'm not really sure.
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e-nonsense · 6 months
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Request for batfam x estranged daughter who looks like Batdad's mom Martha💔 she's more independent and has been raised by her mother's family who she is extremely close with, but when it comes to Bruce’s side of her fam she gets awkward and shy cuz she never really interacted with them and doesn't know how to approach them which leads to misunderstandings and angsty setbacks in bonding time. But for whatever reason, she gets along great with Damian and Stephanie as if they've been friends for years. Which causes everyone else to feel left out and a bit jealous when they see the trio hanging out having a good time.
𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗚𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗪𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡
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pairing. Batfamily x batsis!reader, slight Dick Grayson x reader
summary. Reader looks startling alike to Bruce’s deceased mother, Martha Wayne.
warnings. swearing, platonic jealousy, mentions of death, horrible parenting (its Bruce), reader is like crazy rich, reader is also 22 and dick is 26. NOT PROOFREAD
authors notes. hope this is what you envisioned. no part 2 so don’t ask
wc. 1.4k
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It was Alfred who made the mistake first. Accidently calling you Martha first. He couldn’t help it, you just look so much like her.
Of course he apologised right after and then nearly had a heart attack when you smiled reassuringly, “its fine Alfred.”
A kind heart to match the face of a woman long gone. The elderly man just nodded in response, deciding too keep his mouth shut from then on.
Then it was Bruce. He completely froze the day he met you, froze and stared like a creep. “Holy shit—“ He was immediately cut off by your mother’s glare at him swearing in front of you. “Sorry.”
That day went on with you being shy and awkward around him and Dick —his newly adopted son— who didn’t seem to have any interest in you at all.
“Bruce Wayne,” the man kneels in the get to eye level with a twelve year old you.
“Uh—“ you found yourself string at your mother nervously, only deciding to utter your name after she nods.
Bruce tries to smile —could you see the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes?— at you, “pretty name.”
That was the first time he had seen you, and the last — unless you count the little run ins you’ve had over the years— until ten years later. You were twenty-two, and looked even more like his deceased mother than before.
Bruce found himself watching as you gave Damian tips on the perfect brush stroke to get a texture that would look more like a cloud on canvas.
You nod and smile —one of those encouraging smiles his mother (Martha) used to give him when he got something right— “that’s it. Just try to get lighter towards the end, gives it that fluffy feeling.”
When you had decided to contact Bruce yourself ten years later it had caught him off guard but he agreed. He watched as Damian took to you immediately, the ten year old boy milking you for that motherly affection he never got from his own mother.
The validation when you pat his head and smile at him proudly at his minor achievements, something was child's play to him and yet you were so proud because of it.
The warmth you gave when you smiled in encouragement, or when you’d chuckle softly at his annoyance about one of his brothers. His brothers, not yours as well. You didn’t Bruce’s other wards as siblings, they hadn’t tried to reach out to you so you decided not to bother them with trying as well.
You were nice not stupid.
Stephanie walked into the art room you and Damian had filled with art pieces. You chuckled when the younger girl groaned and draped her arms around you, whining about some inconvenience she had been victim to earlier in the day.
You patted her head and chuckled when Damian scowled at the blonde girl, “get off her you mongrel.”
“Damian,” you say sternly and the young boy huffs before going back to painting clouds. You dragged both yourself and Stephanie towards the couch in the corner of the art filled room and listened as she whined about her day. How Bruce had scolded her about a mistake she made on the field, a minor mistake that even who would make from time to time.
You saw the tears of frustration brimming in the girls eyes and you sigh. “It’s alright Steph,” you hum softly as the girl presses her face into your shoulder.
If Damian hears the blondes sniffles he ignores it, leaving the comforting to you.
None of you speak of Stephanie’s breakdown after it happened. Opting to ignore it afterwards and move on.
Dinner later is chattier than usual, both Damian and Stephanie sitting on either side of you, giving the other member of the family zero chance to gain your attention.
Across from you sat Dick Grayson, who tried to gain your attention but continuously failed so decided to annoy his other brothers. You’re attention is finally somewhere else when Jason growls in annoyance at something Bruce had said.
“It’s for kids Bruce,” Jason seems to be seething. “Children who don’t have the luxury of getting a meal everyday.”
“I can’t trust that the money will actually go into that cause Jason,” Bruce simply sighs. You frown at that, for the first time you speak up.
“Sorry to intrude, but what are you arguing about?” Your voice isn’t timid or soft, it’s stern and had an authority quality that has Jason looking at you in shock before replying.
“Charity thing I’m tryna do,” he begins to explain. “Wanted some money to buy an empty warehouse and build a place that serves food on a daily basis to homeless people.”
You hum in response, “it’s a good idea.”
Jason beams at the praise, “thank you.” And you smile in response, “how much do you need?”
The question catches everyone off guard, “sorry?”
“How much, it’s a good idea and I’d like to help.” You ask and Jason nods.
“Well i wanted it in a good area in Gotham, might help relocate people and stuff.” You nod taking in his words. “$300,000. I need that much.”
Jason shrugs nervously as you think it through, “done.” You smile slightly, “call me if you need anymore though. I’d be happy to help.”
Jason stares at you like you’re some kind of saint, “where are you going to even get that kind of money?” He asks nervously, surely this was too good to be true. You barely knew him, why would you give up that much money so easily.
You chuckle in response, “my dad’s rich.” You pause before adding, “the man my Ma married I mean.”
“So is my Ma,” you shrug. “I inherited it all when they retired.” Jason blinks a few times, as if trying to determine if you’re actually real.
“So would you say you’re richer than Bruce?” Tim asks and you glance over at him before shrugging. “Maybe? I dunno.”
Bruce watches from the head of the table, “she is.”
You raise a brow at that, “stalking my bank account or something?”
Bruce chuckles and shakes his head, “no. But I know your father and he’s been years ahead of me for a long time.” You snort in response, “sounds like him alright.”
The rest of dinner passes and you go back to talking to Damian and Stephanie. Jason watches you three from his seat beside Dick. “Why does she only talk to them?”
Dick pauses to look at Jason and puts his fork back down onto the plate, before glancing over at you who seemed to be nodding along to whatever Damian was saying.
“Dunno,” he shrugged. “To be fair we haven’t tried to exactly reach out to her as much either.”
Jason hummed in response, “demon brats a bit attached to her though.. don’t you think?”
“Guess so, pretty sure he looks up to her.” Dick says to Jason before moving his fork towards his mouth. “Like a motherly figure or something.”
Jason snorts and Tim looks over at them, “funny. He’s got two of his siblings substituting as parental figures.”
Tim chokes on his food before laughing, “now that you’ve said it.”
Dick rolls his eyes and chuckles, “leave the kid alone. He got a shitty deal of parents.” Jason snickers but he doesn’t deny it.
Dinner finishes quickly after that, and they watch as you let Damian drag you away, Stephanie following closely behind. “You must meet batcow.” Damian says before leaning in closer to you, to whisper in your ear, “Don’t tell father but there are ducks in my room.”
You wink at him and nod, “our secret then.”
The rest of the night passes and Damian is asleep by the end of it. You find yourself back at the front door, slipping your coat on deciding to go home. “Leaving?”
You turn around quickly to see Dick Grayson, an amused look on his face and a small smile playing on his lips. “I am too,” he shrugs approaching you and reaching for his jacket. “I’ll walk you,” he offers and when you nod he grins outstretching his hand.
Nervously you take his hand in yours and let him pull you along towards the front door, “I know a great view.. I could take you?”
You smile and shrug, leaving the decision to him, “guess we’re going then. I’ll warn you though it high up and its Gotham so don’t expect it to be too pretty.”
You chuckle and he keens at the sound, he finds himself wanting to hear it again, and again, and again.
“I won’t get my hopes up then,” you smile up at him.
He grins and leads you out of the manor and onto the streets of Gotham, that coincidently happened to quite peaceful that night. He silently thanked Bruce for fucking up again, he wouldn’t get this chance if he hadn’t.
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© hells-escapees. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off
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tokyothirstygang · 1 year
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Your bff Chifuyu is everything a girl could want: hot, loyal, and adorably stupid. There’s only one problem with your golden boy…he thinks he’s bad in bed. Good thing he has a friend like you willing to help him improve his dick game
You’re lounging around on a Saturday night with your best friend, Chifuyu.
He seems distant as he sits on the couch with you, eyes trained on the TV but clearly spaced out.
“Chifuyu? Hello? Are you okay? You’ve seemed…off all day.”
He doesn’t respond until you grab a pillow and chuck it at his head.
“Hey! What the hell?”
He tries to throw the pillow back at you, but you catch it before it hits you.
“Sorry! I tried talking to you but you didn’t answer. What’s up with you? You’ve been weird since you got here.”
Chifuyu sighs and slumps down further into the couch.
“I can’t tell you. It’s too embarrassing.”
You turn to sit sideways on the couch to face him full on.
“I’ve literally seen you trip, rip your pants then land in dog poop. What could be more embarrassing that?”
His face flames at the memory.
“Hey, you said you’d never bring that up again!”
You fight off a smile, knowing it would only humiliate him further even though it was really funny at the time.
“Chifuyu forget about that. What’s bothering you? We tell each other everything.”
He bites at the cuticle around his thumb and bounces his leg up and down.
“Fine, but this conversation is never ever leaving this room, okay?”
You nod furiously, eager to know his big secret.
“Okay, well…last night I was with Anna, you know that girl I met at the bar? I don’t think she, uh, had a good time when we were together.”
Your eyebrows furrow.
“A good time doing what? Like hanging out with you?”
Chifuyu’s face hits full tomato status.
“No, not hanging out. When we were…” he trails off and it takes a moment for the realization to hit.
“Oh! When you were bed?”
Chifuyu groans in frustration and throws his head back.
“Yeah. It’s just-“ he reaches for a pillow and puts it over his face. “I don’t have that much experience. I know I’m not the best but I can’t be that bad, right?”
You accidentally snort at the question and he groans again.
“Im sorry! It’s just that we’ve never had sex so I wouldn’t really know what you’re like.”
“You know what? I really don’t want to talk about this right now. Forget I ever said anything.”
He leaves the couch and wanders over to the bar cart in the corner. He pours himself a shot of vodka and downs it immediately.
“You want one?” He asks and starts to pour you one before you even reply.
He comes back holding four shots- two for you two for him.
You both throw back all the shots, giggling and coughing the entire time.
When you’re both buzzed and warm, you catch yourself gazing at Chifuyu.
He was an extremely attractive man. Even if he wasn’t the best in bed yet any girl would still be lucky to have even bagged him in the first place.
That’s when your devious little mind gets an idea.
“Chifuyu…” your mouth starts talking before your brain can catch up and without realizing it, you say something that changes you both forever. “What if we had sex? If you think you’re bad in bed, you can practice with me.”
He stares at you, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.
“W-what?”
“I said…” You scoot closer to him.“let’s have sex.”
He still looks startled, but you don’t miss the way his eyes briefly linger on your lips.
“We don’t have to. I wasn’t trying to pressure you I just…I just…” his words gets lost in this throat.
The more he looks at you the more he can’t ignore how soft and inviting your lips look. He also can’t ignore the way your shirt is clinging to your tits or how your eyes are lighting up with that mischievous glint.
“So what if we do have sex? What then? We can’t just be the same after that, can we?”
You know he’s right but the topic has already been put on the table. No going back now.
“Things don’t have to change. You’re just practicing with me. You’re probably just getting nervous when you’re with other girls, but you know me, right? We can just have fun with it. It’ll be like…a science experiment!”
Chifuyu shakes his head at the comparison.
“You’re treating my dick like a science experiment?”
You both fall into a fit of laughter. The whole idea starts to seem ridiculous until you catch sight of Chifuyu nervously bouncing his leg again.
You start to turn your attention back to the TV when Chifuyu’s hand lands gently on your thigh.
When you look at him you see his pupils are dilated and his cheeks are flushed.
“If we do this…promise it won’t ruin things with us.”
“I promise.” You hold out your pinky, and Chifuyu grins as he links his with yours.
“Okay, then.” He shifts himself off the couch and down onto the floor. He’s on his knees in front of you, and you’re confused until he reaches for the waistband of your sweatpants.
“Lift up.” He demands, and you immediately obey. He slides the pants and your underwear off together then gently pulls you to the edge of the couch.
“Spread your legs for me.” A jolt of adrenaline rushes through you as you open your legs and expose yourself to him.
He takes a moment to admire the view in front of him before moving his lips to your inner thighs. He’s making a point of teasing you by giving attention to every spot except for where you need him most.
“Chifuyu… please.” When you lift your hips up, he takes the hint and gives you what you want.
Immediately its clear why someone wanting a quick hook up might hate chifuyu: he eats pussy like he’s in love with you.
He’s making out with it like it’s your mouth, passionately kissing, sucking and sliding his tongue around it like he’s waited his whole life to have you spread out in front of him like this.
He’s slow and intentional about it, holding your hands and listening to every little sound you make to see what you like the most. He’s going to make sure you feel every little thing, and he’s going make sure it feels fucking good.
You writhe beneath him, lifting your hips up to ride his face. He lets you control him. Whenever you push his face in deeper, he happily obliges while securing your thighs around his head with his strong hands.
“Fuck! Chifuyu…”
When you cum, you cum hard. Harder than anyone has ever made you cum from just foreplay alone.
When you finally recover from your orgasm, you’re in complete shock.
If this was any indication of what he was like in bed, all of those other girls were definitely idiots.
Chifuyu was going to ruin you.
“Jesus, Chifuyu. You’re so good at that.”
He blushes at the compliment.
“Really? Thanks, I-I wasn’t sure.”
You sit up, lean forward, and gently grab his face. You kiss him eagerly, not missing the taste of yourself on his tongue.
“Let’s go to my bedroom.” You suggest, and he nods, immediately pressing his lips to yours again as soon as you’re done talking.
You stumble back to your room, feverishly kissing the entire way. When you finally get there, you’re entirely naked and Chifuyu is down to his boxers.
“What position do you want to try first?” You finally pull away from him long enough to catch your breath. You sit down on the edge of the bed and look up at him.
“Uh…I’m not sure. Maybe-“
“Oh my god.” You accidentally cut him off mid sentence. While he was talking you snuck a peek at the bulge in his boxers. Unless your eyes are playing tricks on you, his cock has to be big.
“Wait, let me see.” You reach forward and roll his boxers down his thighs. When you finally get a good look at it, your mouth drops open.
“What? What’s wrong?” Chifuyu’s eyebrows furrow in confusion .
“Nothing, it’s just…huge.”
You’re not exaggerating. It’s a long, thick cock that’s guaranteed to split you in half.
“Is that okay? Do you think you could take it?” His genuine concern is adorable…and sexy.
“Y-yeah we can make it work. Just tell me what you want.”
He decides he wants you from behind first so you get on to your hands and knees and brace yourself for him.
When he tries to enter you, you immediately clench around the tip.
“Oh, shit.” Chifuyu sighs at the friction. “You might be too tight for me.”
“Just go slow. I can take it.” You’ve never had someone as big as Chifuyu and now that you’re presented with the opportunity, you can’t back down.
He reaches around you and starts rubbing circles into your clit.
“Is that better?”
You nod, dizzy at the feeling of being slowly stretched and filled up.
When you manage to take him halfway, he leans down and presses kisses onto your spine.
“You’re doing so good for me. Shit, just keep taking it like that.”
That’s when you know Chifuyu has lost himself to his lust. Level headed Chifuyu would be way too shy to say something like that. You have officially entered uncharted territory with him.
As he sinks in a little more, he tests the waters by giving you two steady, deep thrusts. When you immediately cry out, he smiles to himself.
“Look at you. Already falling apart for me.”
You sigh and bite your lip as you grab a pillow and lie face down ass up.
Chifuyu takes that as a sign you’re ready and willing for him so he starts pounding into you.
Your brain doesn’t even know what sound to focus on: his growls, his hips crashing into you or your own screams of pleasure.
Within minutes he has you cumming all over him, chanting his name and gripping the sheets.
He waits for you to ride out your orgasm before he flips you over on to your back. You’re still seeing stars when he directs your attention to his dick.
"Look what you did to me.”
Around the middle of it is a sticky, white ring.
“Creaming all over my fucking cock when I was barely inside you.”
You’re still in complete awe at the way he’s been talking to you. You initiated the sex thinking you were going to teach him some tricks but instead he was unlocking new kinks for you.
“Come here.” He backs off the bed and stands in front it. He pulls you up and to the edge of the mattress. “Clean up your mess.”
When you look up into his eyes you see they’re dark and animalistic.
Your sweet Chifuyu is gone.
You take him into your mouth, almost immediately gagging because of his size. If you thought taking him into your pussy was hard, this was on a whole other level.
He gently rocks his hips forward, sliding himself in and out of your mouth.
Your eyes are watering and you can barely breathe but he looks so gorgeous with his head thrown back and eyes closed you let him keep using you.
You continue to suck and choke on his cock for a couple of minutes before he finally pulls it out.
“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that. Get back on the bed for me.”
You assume he wants to go back to where you’d left off but he stops you as you try to get back on all fours.
“No, baby. Lie on your back for me.”
You do as he says and before you know he’s got your legs spread open and thrown over his thighs.
“I wanna see your pretty face while you take it.”
Just like that he’s sliding back into you, stretching you and making you feel full before he’s even started fucking.
When he finally does start moving his hips forward, you swear he’s going to rip you in half.
“Fuck! Chifuyu…you’re so…so big...” Your words only encourage him to keep going, and when he miraculously sinks fully into you, you both cry out.
“Shit…you’re the only one who’s been able to take me like this.” He confesses, sliding his hand down to toy with your clit. “Your pussy must be made for me.”
He intently watches your face and when his cock finds the spot that makes your eyes roll back, he keeps hitting it until you’re speechless.
You want to yell his name, moan in pleasure, and tell him you’re about to cum but it feels too good to do anything but just take it.
He feels you getting close and leans down to your eye level. He presses his forehead against yours while he strokes you slow and deep.
“I know you want to cum, baby.” He whispers and your toes curl. “Just let me have it. Make a mess on my cock.”
You find your voice again as your orgasm hits you hard. You scratch at his back as you scream his name over and over.
“Shit…ugh…baby…” Chifuyu pulls out and strokes himself a few times before he cums all over your stomach.
When he flops down in bed next to you, you’re completely confused.
“So, wait a minute…why exactly did you think you’re bad in bed?”
He lets out a shaky laugh as he tilts his head to look at you.
“I don’t know. I could never get it in all the way. I thought maybe they weren’t turned on enough to take it. Like maybe they didn’t really like me or something.”
You smack him with a pillow for the second time that night.
“You idiot! They couldn’t take it because you’re big not because they didn’t like you.”
Chifuyu glances at his dick as he considers it.
“Huh… maybe you’re right?”
You roll your eyes and playfully shove him.
“I think you’ve been in too many fights. Your brain is only operating at 5% these days.”
He chuckles as he rolls out of bed. He leaves the room and returns with a towel for you.
As you clean yourself off, you see Chifuyu sitting on the edge of the bed bouncing his leg again.
“So…how was I? You can tell me the truth.”
It’s baffling that he’s nervous again after everything you’d just gone through together.
“Chifuyu Matsuno, you have officially ruined other men for me.”
____
Shout-out to all the big dick Chifuyu stans I hope everyone survived this story because I was losing my mind writing it 🥵 lmao
____
@sherlockscumslut @tomiokas-lunchbox
@kindbitch
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rinhaler · 7 months
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NOTSCAREDNOTSCAREDNOTSCARED!
✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ frat boy!oliver aiku x f!reader
Genre: college!au (mostly shameless smut tbh) Notes: first fic on my new blog and it's absolutely disgusting, enjoy. Warnings: 18+, noncon, somnophilia, drugging, virgin killer!oliver, implied virgin reader, tit sucking, pussy eating, biting, fingering, marking, love bites ♡, creampie, spit, alcohol consumption, lmk if I missed any!! Words: 5.3k
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What a naïve little thing you are.
That’s the first thing Oliver thinks when he sets his sights on you. A shy, sweet girl wearing the one and only cocktail dress you probably own. It’s so simple but makes a loud statement. You don’t look like the other girls here. You aren’t wearing designer clothes that fit you like a glove, no. The ill-fitting garment you’ve chosen to wear speaks volumes to your innocent nature and your lack of confidence. You don’t have friends, do you? You’re here, alone, in the sleaziest and most prolific fraternity on campus. Of course, it’s a party, and anyone is welcome to attend. But the fact that you decided to come here, alone, makes him think you might be a little stupid.
But that suits him just fine.
He doesn’t approach immediately, for fear of giving the game away too soon. He bides his time and observes your behaviours and mannerisms as you wade through the crowds. His eyes have followed your longing gaze a few times and noticed how you keep looking towards the kitchen. It’s the busiest room in the house right now, he assumes. That’s where the keg and all of the alcohol is.
But almost as soon as you look that way, you avert your eyes and look elsewhere in search of a place to belong. You’ve tried starting a few conversations with the girls, but Oliver knows how catty and mean they can be. Poor thing, fresh meat like you doesn’t stand a chance.
You’re lonely, aren’t you? You’ll feel better with a little company, yeah?
He carefully walks by you in a way that will cause you to spill the drink from your grasp. And with that, this sinful game can begin. The one in which he tells you how sorry he is for causing an accident and ruining your dress. He’s so apologetic that you just can’t help but forgive him right away. And his attractiveness doesn’t go amiss. The kindest person you’ve met thus far just so happens to be so deliciously handsome.
“Let me get you a refill, it’s only fair.” he winks. And you hate yourself because your stomach flits at the casual gesture. It’s probably a line that he uses on all of the girls he meets at parties like this. It’s plain to see that he’s confident. You’re sure there won’t be a shortage of girls throwing themselves at him after a gesture like that.
But you aren’t stupid enough to be the same.
He seems older, by at least two years. He seems comfortable enough here to get you a drink so maybe this is his party. He could have a girlfriend for all you know that is in another room and completely oblivious. You don’t want to make waves before you even experience your first day of class.
People seem friendlier towards you when they notice you with him. Is it genuine? Or could they be laughing at you? His hand resides in the small of your back as he guides you far into the kitchen; until you’re standing between an island counter and the fridge. Your body is warming, and, fuck, he can feel it. You’re so shy. He hasn’t seen a girl like you in a long time. The slightest bit of attention and touching and you’re putty in his hand. What a good girl you are, he’s going to have so much fun with you.
You watch him, carefully, as he rummages through the fridge and grabs a can of beer.
You’re a little deflated as he cracks it for himself and begins to chug.
“I didn’t catch your name.” he states as his unmistakable eyes watch you intently. He has eyes you’ve never seen before, and you’ll have a hard time forgetting. Mismatched purple and green. They’re dull, but not uninteresting by any means. They’re the eyes of a man who always gets what he wants. Those eyes beautiful eyes… they’re bored because they are a prestigious, all access key to gain whatever his heart desires. You hum, hesitating for a moment until you decide you’re too awkward and uncomfortable to hide your name from him. “Oh, that’s a real pretty name. I’m Oliver.” he introduces himself.
“Hey… Oliver.” you smile, unsure of how to respond. You’re so on edge. His peculiar eyes are examining each and every movement you make like you’re being graded. And your heart is pounding… you can’t help yourself. Nobody here has extended so much as a pitying smile. You want to pass his test, he’s the only person being remotely nice to you. But still, there’s a gnawing feeling eating away and corroding your insides and it makes you feel like a criminal, like you’re doing something wrong.
Like you absolutely should not be talking to him right now.
“You’re pretty too.” he smiles, brazenly. His voice is so deep and charming, a sonorous lull as he knows all he needs to do is utter these three simple words to get a girl like you to be completely and utterly captivated. It’s such a pathetic, insipid sentence and you can’t stand that it’s working on you.
You get a full view of his wide, toothy grin and you sense that he’s trying to extend a gesture of trust to you. And you’re encapsulated by it. Pristine pearls almost blinding you and short circuiting your brain as you arrive at the realisation that he might be perfect. His features nothing short of perfection and accentuate his beguiling persona that you can’t get enough of. You haven’t even noticed the way your chest is heaving as you devour a mind-altering cocktail with him as the main ingredient.
And he can’t help but chuckle when he notices how flustered you’ve become from his words, you adorable thing. Three little words are making you squeeze your thighs together and fold your arms over your chest. And don’t think he hasn’t noticed the quickened breaths you’re taking and the dampening forehead you’re suddenly trying to wipe away. He’s noticing everything about you and making mental notes in his mind he will use later.
Do you know how vulnerable you’re being?
You should know better than to be so visibly rattled by him. He may be handsome but he’s hardly screaming upstanding citizen at you. It’s the facial hair. It’s so grotesque and sleazy and wholly unpleasant. And still, the only thought swirling around your tiny, tipsy mind is how it would feel against your skin as you kiss. How would the scruff feel between your inner thighs as he devoured your petalled flesh. You shouldn’t be thinking like this, you aren’t sure what’s wrong with you.
You don’t know how to act, do you?
“Don’t be so nervous, sweetheart.” he tells you, getting closer. The smell of his cologne invading your senses. It’s familiar, it smells expensive and suits him just fine. The type of fragrance you’d save for a special occasion to make an impact and impress people you’re around. Your nostrils flare as you inhale more. More of it. More of him. You need more.
He angles his head as he monitors your response to his proximity. He grins when he notes that you aren’t sure where to put your hands. Moving them a few times before you decide to grip the overhang of the counter behind you until the skin covering your knuckles are taut, turning white. You want to feel his chest, don’t you? It’s so broad and muscular and peaking under his shirt, he doesn’t blame you. You probably haven’t had much experience with a guy like him.
He's more than happy to show you.
You’re starting to think your heart is packing up its belongings and preparing to flee from your own chest as you feel it beating rapidly against your ribs. He’s so intoxicating, you feel lightheaded and overwhelmed by the mere presence of him. His body is trapping yours against the counter. He’s so damn tall, taller than you could have possibly imagined now that he’s pressed against you like this. Your cheeks fill with heat, and you think you might actually faint against him if he doesn’t move away. “There are bad guys at places like this, y’know? Dangerous place to be so pretty.” he warns you, whispering gently in your ear. The tone rushing through your veins and forcing you to shiver. His eyes meet yours after he speaks, his stare willing you to understand what he’s saying.
“T-Thank you…” you mumble.
“Hey, don’t worry so much. I’m the house president, I’ll keep an eye on you.” he assures you, moving away ever so slightly while keeping a lingering hand on your shoulder. A commanding touch to make your body and your mind focus on him. His hand is cold to the touch and you realise it’s from holding the metal can, cold from the refrigerator. The cooling caress of his fingers is polar opposite to the warm smile he’s offering you. You aren’t sure what to do or say, but you need not worry about yourself anymore. He had intended on doing all of your thinking for you tonight, anyway. “Oh, shit, you wanted a drink, right? Let me get one for you.” he speaks, his body moving to act before you can even answer.
“U-Um…” you hesitate, seeing him grab a bottle of rum and a mixer. You hate spirits because they always get you embarrassingly wasted. There are four prominent occasions in the forefront of your mind as you reminisce on the states you’ve found yourself in after drinking spirits. The smell alone is enough to make you gag, but you do all you can to ignore it. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself, you don’t want to do something humiliating that will be talked about for years to come.
You aren’t a prude; you aren’t opposed to getting drunk. You just don’t think it’s a good way to introduce yourself.
He’s moving so fast, and his back is to you as he pours your drink, the red solo cup obscured from your vision as he fills it to the brim for you.
You dumb little thing.
Isn’t this something you’ve been warned about? Not letting your drinks out of your sight at any point, ever. Of course you have, it’s rule number one of going to parties or nightclubs or anywhere that your drink can be tampered with.
You just aren’t thinking straight.
And why would you?
You’re so out of place in this big, intimidating environment. You’re hardly going to suspect the first person to show you a bit of kindness is actually the shadiest guy at the party. But deep down, you know you should consider everyone a suspect after hearing what he had to say. If the guys here are so shady, why does he stick with them? If he’s the president, why doesn’t he tell them to do better?
These few fleeting thoughts have been nothing but. Passing ideas that you thought of and discarded as quickly as they arrived. You can’t live your life in fear or you’ll never make any friends here. And he’s going to all of this trouble for you. You’re nobody to him, and he’s still finding it in his heart to extend a benevolent demeanour to you and making sure you have a drink and a friendly face to keep you company for the night.
So you aren’t going to think twice that he’s slipped something in your drink, you can’t see what he’s doing, but for some reason, you trust him. Would you trust him, still, if he wasn’t so good looking? Would you trust him less if he hadn’t announced he is the fraternity president? He knows you’d never have trusted receiving a drink from him if he just offered it to you out of nowhere.
He’s happy he didn’t have to work too hard, you aren’t completely stupid, but you’re still dumb enough to accept a drink from him like this. You barely even think about it as he flashes you a beaming smile and hands it to you. Hell, it might even loosen you up. You knock half of it back in three seconds and you giggle after the fact.
He’s laughing too.
But it’s at your expense, you poor, sweet thing. You’re going to be seeing so many stars tonight, a sight reserved for Oliver’s favourite angels.
“You’re crazy, huh? You like to party a lot, baby?” he wonders, taking another swig of his drink as he rests against the fridge beside him.
“No, never! This is my first big party.” you confess, and he doesn’t miss the way you slightly cringe at yourself for saying something you must think is a little embarrassing. “I mean, I’ve been to parties… this one is just—”
“You’ll get used to it.” he tells you. “The first one is always memorable, though.”
“Really? How come?” you ask, curiously.
God you’re so cute, it’s killing him. Even he can’t hide the smirk forming on his face as he tries to conceal it with his beer. He decides to not answer. Instead, he admires the way you look disappointed at the prospect of him losing interest in you. He thinks he could bathe in the watery sheen glossing over your eyes as you worry that you’ve said something so stupid that he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.
He's such a disgustingly vile man. All he can think to do is refuse to put you out of your misery. Instead, he revels in the way you knock back the rest of your drink. The way your eyes widen paints a perfect picture in telling him it was too strong for you. Stronger than anything you’ve ever drank in your life. And that’s without the added ingredient he decided to slip in.
“I— do you have a girlfriend?” your question is abrupt as you wipe the excess liquid from your plump lips. Your watery eyes watching him keenly as you do your best to decipher his intentions.
“No.”
You scoff and shake your head. “I don’t even know why I asked you that, as if you’d tell the truth.” you mumble to yourself, but it’s loud enough for him to hear. And just as you’re about to walk away, he responds.
“I don’t care if you know whether I have a girlfriend or not. I would only care if I was trying to fuck you.” the sentence rolls off his tongue with ease. Like he knew exactly what you were going to say before you even thought of it. And you feel a wave of humiliation crash throughout your body; you feel a current trying to drag you under and suffocate you under the foaming sea.
“Y-You aren’t?” you need to stop talking. You need to stop embarrassing yourself like this. For his benefit. For the other people in the kitchen with you. It feels like everyone is staring at you and laughing at your expense. Maybe you’re just drunk and being paranoid. You should go, you should sprint out of here with whatever small scraps of dignity you have left.
He shakes his head, his hand reaching out to yours to pull you closer to him. It trails, up your side and to your chin as your eyes fixate on his. His thumb smooths over your chin, encouraging you to open your mouth for him. He tilts his can of beer onto your lower lip. The golden, yeasty liquid spills from the metal container and onto your tongue. Your eyes don’t leave his as all you can do is stand there and take it. Your little throat expanding with each glug of the disgustingly bitter drink.
Your body is once again pressed against the counter. He snickers when he feels your body jolt against his as you hear the sound of the beer can he was holding clattering against the tiled floor. And he takes great delight in the way your body melts against his touch as he places a hand on your hip. The other, smoothing the shell of your ear before he levels his mouth with it.
“I don’t need to try, I’m going to fuck you.” he whispers, he kisses against your ear a few times and the sound rushes straight to your clit. You squeeze your thighs together again hoping to alleviate the brewing tension. You pray you were discreet enough for him to not notice.
You weren’t.
And it’s worse as he kisses your neck so openly in front of everyone. He sucks and sucks and sucks until his name is signed in blue and purple blooms against your skin. You bite your lip, internally cursing him for forcing you to have to wear a scarf for the coming weeks until it fades away.
“S-Stop it.” your legs buckle and there is something wrong with your eyes. The room won’t stop spinning. You didn’t drink that much, did you?
“Woah!” Oliver exclaims as you fall into his hold. “You don’t know how to handle your drink, hm? I think you need to sleep it off.”
“T-Tax—”
“No, no. I’d be a terrible host if I made you get a taxi all by yourself. C’mon.” he lifts you with ease, your entire body limp in his arms. And he just can’t believe how lucky he is. How blessed he is to be born so genetically gifted. Because he knows there is no way in hell he’d be getting away with this if he wasn’t attractive. Girls looking at him like he’s some kind of hero coming to your rescue. Him, a hero. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t so fucking tragic.
There’s no way you’re forgetting your first frat party.
He’ll make sure of that.
As he passes a few of his brothers on the stairs, they all share a knowing look. Like this isn’t the first time Oliver has been in this predicament. And it surely won’t be the last. He winks at them as he walks by, and he puts you down as he reaches his door, your body dropping like a stone as he lets you fall with no care.
You can do nothing but groan as he drags you by your underarms and into his room. God you want to go home. Not to your student accommodation. Home. You want to be with your parents and under your own roof, sleeping in your own bed. It’s hard to even tell where you are. Are you still in the kitchen? No, there’s no way.
All you can think about is how tired you are.
Suddenly, you’re in the air, being flung onto a nearby bed. You feel like your body doesn’t belong to you. You’re no longer in control and you can’t move your limbs how you want to. You want to use your legs and walk right on out of here and into a taxi.
But you’re lucky, really.
Your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. It’s all his. His to do whatever he wants with. You can’t move, and yet Oliver is going to be kind enough to move you however he likes. Maybe you don’t feel so lucky about it. But you’re just confused right now. Oliver knows you wanted this. Wanted him. The pill in your drink was just a little insurance policy to make sure everyone got what they want.
He prefers girls like this anyway.
Nice ‘n pliant.
“Said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he smiles, lecherous hands feeling each and every inch of your body. A curious hand reaching up to touch the fat flesh of one of your tits as he massages it over your tiny little dress. “Think you can wear something like this and expect me not to fuck you?” he whispers.
“Mmmpf…” you hum, there’s still a little defiance in you. At this point, he wouldn’t mind if you were on the cusp of sleep. There’s something so special to him about extracting salacious moans from unconscious bodies.
“’m just getting you out of this little thing… gonna find a comfy t-shirt for you to wear to sleep.” he assures you. He wonders if you believe him. He almost believes himself. But as he pulls down the strapless bust of your dress and your supple flesh is revealed to him, the thought of covering it again dies an instant death in his mind. “Fuuuuuck, gorgeous fuckin’ tits.” he moans, his bulge straining against his jeans as envisions himself sucking them until they’re puckered and raw.
He climbs over you, your tiny frame beneath his domineering one. He’s sure you hadn’t neglected to notice how muscular he is before you passed out, even beneath his clothes. He must be some kind of athlete. He’s too beefy not to be. And boy, does he use his weight and size to his advantage when he’s dealing with delicate things like you.
His head practically falls from his shoulder as he decides to let his fantasy come to life. He licks and laves over your tits individually until he gets a little rougher. Softly nibbling the tender buds until they are aching and so sore. His teeth bruise your flesh as he marks them. An assortment of canines and molars as well as decorative love bites.
Any chance you had of forgetting this party are gone.
You’ll know what happened to you.
You might even remember who did it.
But there’s no way a sweet, timid freshman like you is going to have the courage to tell such an unbelievable tale. You might think there are steps in place to protect innocent things like you. You’re a victim, after all. You need protecting. But once again, that would just be so telling as to how naïve you truly are. Drugging pretty girls at college parties is never going to end. The staff, the students, even the police are never going to side with you.
And why would they? These false statements issued by the board, talks of ‘standing with victims’ and offering a listening ear are nothing but lip service. The institution you have found yourself in will say anything to seem like a worthwhile choice. The right and most beneficial choice to you and your future.
But the harrowing truth is that they don’t have time to protect girls like you when they are too busy covering up the messes of men like him.
He pushes your dress up to your midsection, exposing a pair of white lace panties.
“Awe, for me? You knew you were gonna get lucky tonight, didn’t you?” he asks. But of course, you’re unresponsive. His finger prods at the thin material, an involuntary laugh leaving his lungs as he is greeted with the feeling of your soaked underwear on the pad of his digit. “Too dumb t’speak right now… good job your cunt is telling me how much you want me.”
His thumb circles your clit over the material. And even he’s a little dumbfounded at the way your body betrays you. You squirm and your brows furrow as you try to stave off the pleasurable feeling. But for all he knows, you could be trying to fight him off.
He doesn’t care, though, your pussy already gave your true feelings away.
Even he can’t ignore the way his cock is leaking at the sight of your tight heat becoming exposed as he peels away your panties. A slick string connecting your sex to the material.
You must be a virgin, he thinks. Virgins get wet so easily. He suspected it from the moment he saw you. You’re so awkward and uncomfortable around people, but especially guys. You fumble over your words, and you can’t flirt to save your fucking life. But he didn’t care. The thought of your first time being with him was enough to make him want you. And even if you have fucked before. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t need to know. The very thought is enough.
He pins your knees to your chest, and he begins to feast on your dripping cunt. You shudder as your body feels the tension building with each suckle and slurp against your clit. It’s unrelenting, he can’t get enough of you. He’s fucking addicted to the taste of your slick and he doesn’t know how he’s gone so long without it. Your left leg ragdolls as he lets go, opting to slip a finger into your unprepared hole without stopping his assault on your swollen clit.
And without hesitation, he’s adding another. He takes his time scissoring you open, and by now he’s convinced you’re a virgin. You’re so fucking tight. There’s no way you’ve had a dick inside of you. Or if you have, it must have been small.
You won’t have to worry about that with him.
Even unconscious, he’s sure you’ll feel how he’s gonna stretch you.
Your lazy groans are like a cheer to him. Your body is telling him what a great job he’s doing. How close you are. How badly you want to cum in his mouth and douse his thick, calloused fingers in your syrupy sheen.
The tip of his tongue lashes over the throbbing button at the apex of your thighs. He doesn’t particularly care if you take him well or not. You’re going to take him regardless. But he isn’t so heartless he won’t try and make it a little less painful for you. He’s urging you to cum for him, his free hand pressing down on your abdomen in a bid to enhance your pleasure. With each whip of his tongue against your clit and every press of your spongy insides with his fingers, he’s trying to drag you over the edge.
Your lifeless body surprises him once more.
He pulls away and observes the way your pussy pulses and your walls tighten around his fingers as you begin to cum for him. Your spent little cunt drooling around his thick digits and coating them in your slick. You even moaned for him. Not loudly, of course. A few tell-tale grunts to let him know you were happy with his work.
His eyes ogle your tits once again, admiring the way your chest rises and falls as he sucks his fingers clean. You’re so fucking cute. You must be heaven sent, the way you stepped into the frat may as well have been a gift with a garish bow from Santa Claus himself.
He unbuckles his belt with one hand whilst squeezing and pinching your nipples once again. They’re so pretty, the prettiest pair of tits he’s ever seen. He’s rock hard in his jeans, leaking like crazy and desperate to be buried to the hilt in your sweet little snatch.
And his heavy cock springs free, the tip leaving evidence of just how desperate he is on his v-neck shirt. Pearly pre shimmering against the black material that is soon to dry and harden and meld with the cotton fibres. But he can’t find it in himself to care. He pulls it over his head and throws it into the corner of his room, he’ll deal with it another time. There’s something much more entertaining lying atop his sheets right now.
“Mmm… think this is gonna hurt sweetheart. But you’re gonna be good ‘n take it f’me, yeah?” he lines himself up with your entrance and gives your still body one final look before breaching your insides with his thick cockhead. “Fuckin’ hell you’re tight. You’re so fucking tight, might cum just from this.” he speaks.
He knows you can’t understand him, but he can’t stop himself from communicating with you anyway. He needs you to know how special you are. That out of all of the girls at the party, he chose you. Don’t you feel special? He’s sure you will when you’re stuffed full of his cum. It’ll all dawn on you tomorrow and you’ll feel so honoured that the one and only Oliver Aiku fucked you open and covered you in so many pretty patterns and was even kind enough to pump you full of his cum.
You have no idea how much restraint he’s showing by not instantly splitting you open on his thick, heavy cock. He can’t help but feel that slowly plunging into your virgin walls is a better display of claiming your body. It’s almost torture for him, easing in inch at a time at an agonising pace.
And when he’s fully sheathed inside your suffocating walls, the pleasure is almost too much, he could shed a tear at the feeling. But, of course, he won’t. He’s prioritising the task at hand.
He holds under your knee and pushes it further into your chest and begins to slowly roll his hips. It’s hypnotising, the way even out of consciousness your eyes can still roll back into your skull. He takes note of how he’s moving when your eyelids begin to flutter.
“Oh baby… right there? Like it when I fuck you there?” he wonders, experimenting with his movement and speeding up ever so slightly. His cockhead is nudging your g-spot so perfectly. It’s so deliciously soft, and those saccharine expressions you’re donning are about to drag him to an early demise.
His grip on your thigh is harsh. Another galaxy of purple bruises forming under his fingers on your doughy skin. He hasn’t noticed. It’s second nature to him to be a little rougher than intended. But it’s part of the fun, right? More little discoveries for you to find in days to come.
He’s entranced by the way his cock vanishes inside of your cute cunt. He’s being swallowed whole by your sticky lips. The sound reverberates throughout the room. The suctioning sounds of you pulling him inside and the tackiness of your pussy and his cock meeting again and again and again.
Your eyes squint as he yanks down your jaw until he sees your tongue. He’s so abhorrent and even at this point he knows this to be the truth himself. He just can’t fucking help it. He wants to do anything and everything to you. He wants to humiliate you because you’re just that special to him. With a cartoonish ‘ptuh’ sound, a glob of spit has landed on your tongue and is slowly sliding down your throat.
With a few more presses of his tip against your sweet spot, you’re spasming around him again. Maybe you liked it after all. You wouldn’t cum if you didn’t. Do you like being taken advantage of by reprehensible scum like Oliver Aiku? Do you like being unconscious while getting your insides pummelled? This might warp your tiny little mind. Maybe you’ll think this is love and this is what you’re meant for. It is, as far as Oliver is concerned. He doesn’t let up humping into your tiny hole. He spits in your mouth again, and it’s the final straw to pull him into his oncoming bliss right along with you.
“Little slut,” he pants, his hips faltering as he feels himself reaching the precipice. “Mine. My little slut. My fuckin’ cunt. H-Hear me? Mine.” he practically growls as he shoots load after load into your unprotected womb. “Ah— fuck. Fuuuuuck—” he finishes, fucking his viscous seed back into you.
He pulls out immediately after, admiring the way his sperm drips and squelches out of your spent cunt. You’re clenching around nothing, poor thing. You must miss him.
But you don’t have to worry. You won’t have to miss him for long. You’re not done, after all. He just needs some time to recharge. He wasn’t just going to fuck you once and be done with you. Not a perfect little pussy like that, no. Those drugs will be in your system for a few hours.
He’s far from done with you yet.
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© 2023 rinitxshi
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luveline · 3 months
Note
Hiiii sugarplum. I would absolutely adore some stripper reader x Hotch maybe like some of him comforting her or just coming to visit like outside of the case and some fluff 🥰🥰
ty for requesting!! fem
You’re texting on the wall outside of work when a shadow cuts across the streetlight illuminating your lap. Your head flinches up, phone to your chest, but the man standing in front of you isn’t one you’ve ever been scared of. “Fuck, Aaron, you scared me,” you say with a nervous laugh. 
He smiles at you in his gentle, unassuming way. “Sorry. I took care to scuff my shoes as I walked.”
“Oh, you took care,” you say. Your smile is far less gentle than his; your cheeks apple, your words coloured with it. “I was in my own world.” 
“I thought we talked about you coming outside alone.”
“Did we?” you ask, the short wall you’re sitting on biting into your hands and thighs as you tip back to grin at him teasingly. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner, I can’t seem to remember any such talk.” 
“Mm.” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t remember that?” 
“Don’t recall, no.”
“So you also won’t remember the conversation we had about flowers.” 
Your first date, your only date, and your first bouquet. He’d given you flowers and read the embarrassment on your face immediately. You aren’t the kind of girl who gets flowers. 
What’s wrong? he’d asked. 
You’d held the flowers to your chest, something in you worried he’d take them away, though you’re almost positive he’s incapable of being cruel like that. Do I look stupid? 
Of course you don’t. 
There hadn’t been much else to say about the flowers, until after the evening had gone well, and he’d asked you for another date. High with the delight of knowing Spencer’s nice, handsome boss doesn’t just think you’re pretty, he likes you, you’d said Sure, if you bring me another lovely bouquet, we can go on as many dates as you like. 
Aaron pulls the bouquet from behind his back. Petals bounce off of his tie, pinks and whites and baby blues against his black blazer and pristine white shirt as he taps his chest. They’re beautiful, and far too many. 
“Are they really for me?” you ask. You’ve never seen such a big bouquet in your life. It’s a wonder they fit behind his back. 
The strangest thing about dating him has been his sudden propensity for moments of shyness. “That depends,” he says, the slightest hint of nerves in his otherwise dulcet tone, “are they nice enough?” 
“They’re the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen.” You stand up and hold out your hands, pull them back to your chest, and then hold them back out again. You can’t not want them. 
He hands them off to you. 
It must be weird for him to meet you like this. He’s very high up the ladder of his career, and it doesn’t make much sense for him to fall for you. You’re younger, less educated, less prestigiously employed. You hadn’t understood what it was about you that pulled him in, but you can remember how clearly he told you he was interested in you. No shame. Not a hint of reluctance. He’s bringing you flowers outside of the stripclub, ignoring the fact that you’re in sweatpants and a tight corset-type bra, and he hasn’t looked at your body once. 
“I was just texting you,” you say, opening your phone to press send on the text waiting in the hot bar. 
Aaron’s phone immediately pings. 
He reads it quickly. It isn’t a long message. Hi, handsome. Want to pick me up tonight? 
If he’d said yes or no didn’t matter, because you’d just wanted to talk to him, and here he is. 
He finally ducks in. A half side step into your reach, his face angled down, he kisses you chastely on the lips and everything fades away. The neon pink at your feet, the buzzing streetlights and the passing cars, the steady thump of music from three different buildings, it all disappears under his warm hand. He kisses you, and he hugs you to his chest, careful not to crush your flowers. You could glow from the inside out. 
He’s still smiling as he pulls away. “Are you hungry?” he asks softly. 
“So hungry.” 
“We can get anything you want.” 
“Really? What if I want the same as last time?” 
It had been expensive and you’d felt vaguely underdressed. Aaron doesn’t baulk. “Anything you want… You may need to wear my jacket, though. I don’t think your current outfit adheres to their dress code.” 
You push the flowers just under his nose. “Funny.”
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skzstannie · 6 months
Text
“They hate me”
SKZ Drabble
Ot8 x insecure! 9th member! Reader
TW: none?? If you see something, lmk
Hi everyone! This is my first work on here, and I’m excited for more to come! I’d like to start off by saying this in no way represents SKZ/Yunho in real life; they are simply face claims for the characters.
Please comment or interact in some way so I know how you guys liked it!
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“Yunho,” you sobbed, curling into his side from your spot on the couch, “they hate me.”
“Sweetheart, they don’t hate you. I can assure whatever you could’ve done could not make them hate you.” He tries to sooth your shaking form by running his hand through your hair, but you abruptly sit up.
“How do you know that? I was messing up all the choreo last night, and Chan had to re-record my lines for the new song 7 times.” You hold up seven fingers to add a bit of emphasis. “And 7 times is a lot. And then to top it off, I threw up in the practice room because of how anxious I was feeling about it all,” you finish.
“Why does any of that warrant them hating you? So what, you made a few mistakes. I’m sure they’ve all messed up the choreography before, too.” He brings you back into his side by wrapping his long arm around your shoulder. “As for you getting sick, how are you supposed to control that?”
“You should’ve seen them, though. They all had steam coming out of their ears. I don’t even think the 7th recording was any good, but Chan just couldn’t stand to deal with me anymore so he sent me out of the booth. Lee Know looked like he was gonna rip his hair out if he had to correct me one more time, and I could feel the looks from everyone during the whole dance practice.”
“Did you ask them about these things before you left? Or did you just leave yourself to deal with these awful assumptions about the people who love you endlessly?”
“I left right after I got sick, never even told them where I was going,” you huff.
Once you’ve said it out loud, you realize how royally stupid you’ve been, and you immediately jump out of Yunho’s arms to find your phone. “Shit, have you gotten any calls or messages from the guys? I’ve probably worried them sick.” You wrestle around with the contents of your bumbag til you found your, evidently dead, phone. You fumble with your charger before hurrying to the kitchen to plug it in.
“No, I haven’t. Nobody really knows about… us, or this thing going on between us, so I wouldn’t have expected them to.” He gets up from the couch and walks to stand behind you, peering over your shoulder at your phone.
“Come on, come on, turn on you stupid thing.” You repeatedly press the power button, only getting the low battery symbol in return. Your heart’s beating out of your chest with anxiety as your phone finally starts to boot up. “I’m literally an awful person. They’ve probably just about raided the whole city trying to find me.”
“Maybe not, they might still be calm and figured you just needed a night to collect yourself.”
With that, your phone comes alive, and immediately you’re overwhelmed by the buzzing of missed calls and unanswered text messages.
17 missed calls from Channie 🤞🏻❤️
11 missed calls from Leebit 🐰
20 messages from BinBin 😘
15 missed FaceTime calls from Hyune 🫶🏻🫶🏻
11 messages from Jisung 🐿️
37 messages from Sunshine ☀️
24 messages from Menace 🙃🙂
13 messages from Innie 🦊
“Oh my gosh,” you gasp. The longer you stare, the more messages flood your lock screen.
“It’s alright, don’t panic. Just give Chan a call, I’m sure they’ll understand.” He rests his chin on your shoulder and hugs you from behind, trying to provide you comfort. “Or they’ll come around eventually, anyway,” he mumbles under his breath.
You’re quick to find Chan’s contact, and you immediately press the ‘call’ button. You put it on speaker phone, not wanting to be alone in this conversation. “You don’t have to say anything; I just feel more comfortable this way,” you explain, not wanting to unnecessarily drag Yunho into this conversation.
“Y/n! We’ve been calling you all night and looking for you everywhere! Where the heck are you? We’re coming to get you right now,” you hear Chan fidgeting with keys before he yells to Hyunjin, telling him to come to the car.
You sigh before relenting and apologizing for being so irresponsible. “I’m so sorry I worried you guys like that, just another thing I’ve messed up.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about, but we’ll talk about it more when you’re home safe. Now, where are you?” You hear the desperation in his tone. He just wants to know you’re safe.
You realize the slight predicament you’ve come to, and glance up at Yunho, but he just shrugs his shoulders at you.
“I’m, uh, at Yunho’s?” It comes out as more of a question, and you hear a squeal from the other side of the phone.
“What the heck are you doing with Yunho?” Hyunjin screeches, seemingly grabbing the phone from Chan’s grasp.
“That’s enough, Hyunjin. We’ll be right there.” He promptly hangs up, leaving you to anxiously await their arrival.
“Why Hyunjin now? Why not literally anyone else?” Yunho slightly panics, pacing around the kitchen in circles.
“What’s wrong between you and Hyunjin?” You raise an eyebrow, suddenly interested in this new information.
“We don’t really have any bad blood, per sé, or at least I don’t think we do. He’s always giving me dirty looks and I don’t really know why.”
While you wait for Chan and Hyunjin to arrive, you explain to him not to worry about Hyunjin.
You and Hyunjin have always been the closest out of all the members since the very beginning, and he quickly became extremely protective of you. You told him about some of your past traumas, and he made it his personal mission in life to never let anything bad happen to you again. This apparently entails him giving every male you’ve ever interacted with dirty looks.
Speaking about this makes you feel even guiltier knowing Hyunjin has probably been out of his mind since last night, hence why Chan wanted him to go with.
You hear a pounding on the door that breaks up your story time, and you rush over to open it, leaving Yunho hiding in the kitchen.
Chan bursts through the door, with a fiery looking Hyunjin right behind him.
Chan gathers you in his arms, holding you so tight you think all your ribs might crack. You wrap your arms around him, too, holding him with all your might.
When Hyunjin storms in, all he sees is red. “Where is he, huh?” He goes straight for the kitchen, and you tense in Chan’s arms.
“Hyunjin, he did nothing wrong. I came to him last night. Please just, take a deep breath.” You know it’s wrong to try to console him, after all, you’re the reason he’s like this in the first place.
“Why weren’t you answering our calls or messages? Did he take your phone? Did he have you trapped somewhere?” He rants, his hands clenching in tight fists.
You unintentionally gasp, thinking about how horrible this must sound to Yunho knowing he could hear every word. “Hyunjin!” You yelp, “nothing bad happened to me here! My phone was dead, and I was a crying mess all night and didn’t even look to charge it.” You exasperate, pulling away from Chan to go comfort him.
He meets you halfway, meeting you just in front of the coffee table in the living room. He puts his hands on your shoulders, closely inspecting every inch of your skin. You grab his hands and wrap them around yourself in a hug, squeezing him tightly.
“I’m fine, I promise. I’m sorry for disappearing like that. It was really dumb of me. I just needed somewhere to clear my head, and Yunho was the first person I thought of.” You rest your head on his shoulder, loving the feeling of the way he was soothingly rubbing your back.
“Why’d you come all the way here? The guys and I were right with you in the practice room; you know we’ll listen to you any day.” He pulls away slightly, enough to bring one of his hands to your cheek, wiping a stray tear away.
“Because I was scared you guys were upset with me.” You mumble, shying away from his gaze.
“What on earth made you think that? We were so worried about you all day yesterday, wondering why you weren’t acting yourself. And then when you ran off, we had no idea where to look. Had no idea what was wrong.” Chan joined the hug, pressing his face warmly into the back of your hoodie.
“I thought because I was messing up so much yesterday, you all hated me. I saw the looks everyone was giving me. You’re trying to tell me they weren’t looks of annoyance?” You question. Pulling away from them both so you could better have the conversation.
“They weren’t looks of annoyance, well, maybe Seungmin’s was, but you know how he is. They were looks of concern, we couldn’t figure out what was going through that pretty head of yours. We were not upset with you. We’re all aware everyone has bad days, you were bound to have one eventually.” Chan explains, feeling sorry that you’ve had these awful thoughts since last night.
“I’m really sorry I worried you guys. Next time I’ll talk to you before I rush to conclusions.” You give them a shy smile before, once again, you’re pulled into a hug and squished between the 2 of them.
“It’s ok, we forgive you. Now, let’s get you home before the rest of the guys drive over here themselves.” Chan grabs your hand and starts to lead you to the door, but Hyunjin stops you guys.
“I still wanna know why, of all places, you came and spent the night at Yunho’s,” he raises an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms. You hear a cough from the kitchen, and you call Yunho out to the living room to officially introduce him as your boyfriend.
“I’ll tell you two, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else.” You wait for them to give you a nod, squinting your eyes at Hyunjin until he gives in with a huff. “Yunho and I are dating.”
Yunho finally reveals himself from the kitchen and you wrap your arms around his arm. He gives them a tight-lipped smile, not entirely sure how they’re going to take it.
Their eyes get really big, surely not expecting that kind of news. “Why’d you never tell us?” Chan pouts, looking between the two of you. Hyunjin stays silent.
“Because I wasn’t sure how you guys would take it. It’s only been a couple of weeks.” Chan nods his head in understanding before stating that it’s time for you guys to head home.
You give Yunho a hug, and he kisses you on the cheek before you follow Chan out the front door.
You don’t miss, however, the way Hyunjin stays behind for a moment.
“Don’t hurt my best friend.” He says with a stoic expression on his face. He gives Yunho another once over before leaving the house, closing the door behind him.
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munsonsreputation · 2 months
Note
I should hate you was so good I feel like screaming omg I am OBSESSED WITH YOUR FICS !!!'!!!!
THE MORNING AFTER
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anon, it's your lucky day!!! im a total idiot that forgot to include the morning after scene...so here ya go!!! if you want to read part one, check it out here <3
steve harrington x fem!reader
warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, mentions of sex, overall fluff and humor hehehe
summary: eddie and jonathan catch you and steve in a pretty awkward position, too bad they saw it coming and all they really want to do is figure out who's the winner of their stupid little bet -- you and steve just want to take each other in...and steve wants to hear you call him 'baby' again and again.
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The sun had risen nearly an hour ago, the cold air just barely dissipating with the warmth of the present rays, but the sun wasn’t the only one greeting you with good morning. Jonathan and Eddie remained outside Steve’s tent, ogling at the sight of you and Steve laying not just in the same vicinity, but literally in each other’s arms.
“They didn’t sleep together, Ed—” Jonathan attempted to reason, getting cut short by Eddie of course.
The metal head tsked his tongue noisily, glaring, “How’re you gonna say that when she’s wearing his t-shirt and her shorts are over there in the corner?” He pointed to the garments that looked to be thrown around in a haste.
A sexual haste, that is.
Jonathan shrugged, swallowing thickly, “M-maybe she got cold and–”
“You’re telling me someone who got cold in the middle of the night just decided to put on a big ole t-shirt but completely strip off her pants?” Eddie cackled loudly, nudging his shoulder, “Now you’ve got to either be the stupidest—”
Steve roused awake, eyes stretching themselves open to figure out that the hell all the bickering was about especially so early in the morning. It only took him a few seconds to realize that his tent was unzipped, his two friends staring at him like nothing strange was going on.
“What the fuck, guys!” Steve broke before immediately sealing his mouth shut, realizing that you were still fast asleep beside him, literally clinging to his torso.
Jonathan waved him off, gesturing out to calm Steve down, “Chill dude, your dick isn’t out or anything, but even if it was, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before.”
Eddie smirked, eyes flashing to your figure that was only half covered with the blanket due to your tossing and turning during the night.
“We can however see her ass cheeks hanging ou—”
Steve’s eyes grew, drawing down to your body that had kicked off some of the blanket during your sleep. The lace of your underwear peeking out along with some skin that was only supposed to be for Steve’s eyes. He quickly draped most of the blanket over the exposed skin, hoping they didn’t see too much of you.
“Get the fuck out!” He hissed sharply, pointing at his friends hoping they would just listen to him for once.
But alas, the commotion had interrupted your dream, groaning as you rubbed at your eyes and wiggled under the covers.
“What’s going on?” You mumbled before yawning out.
“Good morning!” Eddie started enthusiastically, clapping his hands together to fully get you awake and then Jonathan spoke up.
“Mind telling us if you guys just ended up making out last night or if you went all the way, cause we kinda made a bet and now we need to figure out who owes who what.”
Your eyes widened, neck snapping up at them as Steve whispered a curt apology that fell on your deaf ears. The last thing you wanted was for any of your friends to find you this way, not that it was embarrassing to be seen in such a state with Steve… you just didn’t want them to find out like this.
Obviously, that plan failed horribly.
“You guys clearly lack personal space and privacy don’t you?” You glared, pulling the covers up to your collarbones attempting to hide like that would make them forget the scene in front of them.
Eddie beamed like a prick he was crossing his arms over his chest. “Just answer the question, sweetheart.”
“Here’s my answer… fuck off!” You flipped them the bird, having enough of their teasing as you stretched up to push them away and zip the tent shut before you fell back into the pillow.
Steve couldn’t help but snort, shaking his head at the voices that quieted in the distance, his two friends still arguing over the stupid bet.
“I think you found two new people to take your anger out on,” Steve snickered, folding his arms across your hips and nuzzling his face into your neck.
You sighed, craning your neck out to give Steve more room to place random kisses across your skin, something you didn’t know you were missing out on for so long. For your first morning waking up beside Steve, he sure did know how to make you want more.
“Jonathans too nice and Eddie’s just an idiot sometimes.” You answered with the roll of your eyes that he didn’t see.
“So am I still your most hated?” He teased, poking at your ribcage making your jolt and you smacked his chest.
He came out of hiding, head tilting up at you to hear your answer. “You should be…” you bit your lip, “but I’m afraid you’re actually gonna be my new favorite.”
“Already?” He wiggled his brows with a smirk, shoulders shimmying under the covers in some sort of lame victory dance.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Harrington.” You retorted, poking his cheek.
He pouted, taking your hand in his, “No c’mon, call me that other name…” He insisted, or more like whined, kissing your knuckles with a self indulgent smile on his face.
“Baby,” you murmured, giving into him with the smile gently taking over your features, “Don’t flatter yourself, baby.”
He grinned, holding your cheeks in his palms, kissing you softly, “I’ll try not to. No promises, though.”
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💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
a/n: it is so like me to forget to paste this scene into the actual fic 😭 thankfully it all worked out and posting it as a blurb is actually a pretty good idea since i want to expand on steve and reader hehehe. im thinking of opening up my request for some blurbs with these two because writing for them is so fun!!! let me know what you think and thank you so much for all the love and support 💫🩷
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
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