#and i guess i will say this was something i noticed before i met her

[ebodebo]

summary: you're in a secret relationship with your brother's bestfriend.

a/n: HI! i was tagged to do #cali's namless challenge created by @the-californicationist to celebrate her reaching 500k on ao3! congrats cali and hopefully you all enjoy what i cooked up:)) (make sure you guess who you think it's about in the comments lmao) ALSO this is actually way longer that it's supposed to be, so i apologize. i just can't summarize to save my life!

if you want to particpate.. check out cali's blog linked above for the rules!

18+ Content

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NSFW WARNING

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Crossing Lines

Heavy gray clouds obscured the sky, the trees and bushes were bending and whipping in the wind, rain was pouring down, splashing off the pavement. You peered out of the car window, you were resting your head on, observing rain droplets that slid down the window, listening to weather forecasters talking about the massive storm to come. You carefully observed the droplets, delicately choosing the one you thought would win. Silently, you cheered your drop on, but, alas, it was too slow.

You heard your parents talking in the front seat about the graduation you were attending. A military graduation to celebrate the recruits, your brother included, hard work and dedication through basic training. An outstanding achievement indeed. But something you had been dreading.

It wasn't because you weren't proud of your brother—no, no. It was because his best friend would be in attendance to watch him graduate. It might not seem so bad, but you had been secretly with him for four months and counting without anyone knowing. Though you hadn't really talked to him in a little over a month since he'd been doing some "top secret work," he would say, and service was terrible where he was. 

"We're here!" Your mom chimed from the front seat, absolving you from your thoughts. You open the car door to immediately be met with raindrops falling onto your skin, offering you some sort of comfort. 

You follow your parents closely as you all walk into the venue. Large tables covered in red satin tablecloths and large flower decorations were among the first things you saw. It was honestly quite beautiful. Flags hung slightly over the large arched windows, still giving you a view of the pouring rain outside. 

You followed your parents to a table with a white nameplate in the middle with your last name on it. Taking your seat, you noticed a group of people hovering over the door you came in through, each greeting whoever came in. You tried to move your head to look at the person who walked in, but all the people obscured your view.

You sat with your hands in your lap, playing with the ring on your middle finger. "He's here, honey!" Your dad announced to your mom. You turned your head to see him waving to your parents, walking towards them. You hadn't seen him for a while, but, God, could he get your pulse to quicken just as fast as the first time you'd met.

He reached them, and your mom gave him a hug. "Were all those people greeting you?" she laughed out, playfully hitting his arm. "What can I say? I'm kind of a big deal around here," he joked as your dad brought him in for a hug, too.

You slowly stood up. "Hi," you quietly said, suddenly feeling shy. He looked down at you, a smile tugging at his lips. "My, my, what do we have here? I can't believe you came." He chuckled, bringing his arms out to hug you. "It's my brother's graduation. Of course, I came." You laughed, wrapping your arms around him.

"Fuck. I missed your laugh." He quietly grunted near your ear before he let go. You felt hot goosebumps travel down your arm at the roughness of his voice. You heard a female voice call your boyfriend’s name behind you; you turned to see a pretty brunette waving her hand in the air. The sight made your stomach drop. He nodded to her. "Scuse' me." He politely said, gently touching your mom's arm. 

He noticed your soured expression, which you didn't realize you were making. He let out a soft laugh before pulling out his phone, pointing to it to signal you to take your phone out. You quickly pulled out your phone as he walked away, typing on his.

Peabrain: She's the captain's daughter. You're the only woman for me. Got that?

Me: good because i thought i was going to have to kick someone's ass. mostly yours though. 

Peabrain: Ouch, baby. 

Peabrain: I would never do that to you. Your brother would fucking kill me if I did. 

Me: i would fucking kill you if you did. 

Peabrain: I know. My tough girl. 

You felt yourself heat up at the sentiment. "Is everything okay, honey?" your dad questioned. You quickly looked up to meet his worried expression. "Huh? Oh, ya, just a little hot." You picked up one of the graduate pamphlets lying on the table and fanned your face with it, silently cursing your boyfriend for getting you all hot and bothered. 

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The ceremony had been going on for about an hour, and there was definitely at least one more hour left. Though your brother had already crossed the stage, you had to stay and wait for the other graduates to walk.

You noticed your boyfriend sitting beside some other military personnel in the front. God, he was so hot. His hair was slightly messy from running his hand through it too many times. He was in a tuxedo with a red tie, and his legs were spread pretty wide, giving you a nice view between his legs. You looked up at his face to see his eyes were focused on you, a cocky smirk on his lips. Your eyes widened as you shifted your attention to the graduates walking across the stage.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, so you discretely reached for it and looked at it under the table.

Peabrain: Meet me in the bathroom.

Me: ya right. 

Peabrain: Bathroom. You, Me. Now.

Me: i'm not listening. blah blah blah.

Peabrain: I will drag you in here.

Me: you wouldn't.

Peabrain: Oh, trust me, I would. 

Me: fine. you're so needy.

Peabrain: You have no fucking idea. 

So, that's how you ended up sitting on the sink of a cramped bathroom. "This fucking dress." Your boyfriend purred, gently pooling the fabric up around your waist. He connected his mouth to your neck. "What do you have against my dress?" You questioned, bringing your hand up to thread through his hair. 

He brought his lips to kiss along your jaw until he reached your lips. "It's short. I could see your thighs when you sat down." He groaned into your lips. "Why were you looking that low?" You whispered, tone dripping with seducation. He didn't answer; he just grabbed the back of your head and pushed your lips onto his. 

As you were kissing, his hand dropped to graze your lower thigh, slowly going higher and higher until he was grazing your cunt over your underwear. You let out a soft moan before pulling away slightly.

"We shouldn't be doing this here." You breathe out, lightly massaging the back of his head with your fingers. 

"No, I agree. This is just despicable behavior." He stated as he slipped his hand under your underwear to draw soft circles over your dripping cunt. "Just despicable," he breathed into your ear. You let out a moan as you pull your hands out of his hair to grip his shoulders. "I mean, anyone could walk in." He said as he leaned closer, his lips hovering over your ear. "They could see my fingers in you." He whispered as his finger slipped inside you. "Fuck." You choked out, gripping him tighter. 

"See you begging me for more." He lightly nipped your ear, carefully pumping his fingers in and out of you, grazing your sweet spot. You quickly connected your lips again, his tongue battling yours. You jump a little at the sound of a ding from your phone.

"Leave it." He said, gripping your jaw to bring your lips back to his. You nodded and continued kissing him. His fingers are now pumping a little quicker in you—another ding. You groan. "Let me just check real quick." He groaned and begrudgingly pulled his fingers out of you. 

Stinky: Hey, sis! Where’d you go?

Stinky: The ceremony ended early. Mom and Dad want to grab some dinner. Food sucks here.

Me: hey! went to the bathroom rq. be right there!

He peered into the mirror to see who was taking your gaze.

"Mmh. Should we tell em' ?" He sarcastically said as he threaded his fingers through your hair. "You're an asshole." You roll your eyes as you carefully jump off the sink. You look up at him. "He could kick your ass, you know?" You matter-of-factly say. "Something tells me I could take 'em,' " He plainly states, wrapping his hands around your waist.

"You wanna come eat with us?" You question, raising your hands to gesture for him to bend down. He obliges as you bring your hand up to fix his hair. "Mhm. Are we gonna sneak away to the bathroom during dinner?" He questions, with a smirk.

You pull your hands down and rub them over his chest. "Ya.. and I'll even let you finger me under the table." You seductively say. 

"Really?" His eyes brighten. 

"No. Not really." You drop your hands as you let out a laugh.

"You're a cruel woman." He pouts. 

"Fine. Maybe I'll let you play footsies with me under the table." You say as you turn to fix your lipstick in the mirror.

"Deal." He instantly says, bringing a smile to your lips.

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also, just tagging everyone on my taglist! so, this has nothing to do with who the story is about...

taglist: @artemis-b-writes @starsofang @sceletaflores @yuenity @minihotdog @theloneshadow24 @harpsinfinity @mrs-marc-spector @babygirl-riley @contractedcriteria @yyiikes @hilmiponken @bleached-punk @IMASLUTFORFICTIONALMEN @chonkaydonkay @lunars-somehow-alive @gowno1wysrane

#cali's nameless challenge #cali's challenge #happy 500k cali! #fic challenge #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #fanfic #cod mw2 #modern warfare #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fanfic #call of duty x you #cod x you #cod mwii #cod mw x reader #cod mw3 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare

[unholybacon355]

Bad Habits

G!P Momo X Jihyo

Word Count: 7.8K

A/N: First of all I have to say that this wasn't my idea, I borrowed this for a friend. Thanks Kay for letting me write this with one of the great escenarios you always make, hope I made justice to your idea. Also have to say thanks to another person that help me with some things of my vocabulary, but i think you don't wanna be named here ahahah.

Second. originally this was supossed to be a X You story, but i thinks Momo suits better what I wanted to make here.

With all that being said, I hope you enjoy this.

It was a boring work afternoon in the middle of the week. It was pouring rain outside making the raindrops hit the office windows, which filled the place with the noise of tapping against the glass. Which is why Momo was listening to music with her headphones on, trying to silence the incessant noise of the rain. Maybe that was what made her not notice the incoming message on her phone, or maybe the fact that she was looking at the nearest window trying not to die of boredom due to the repetitiveness of her work that day. Anyway, Momo didn't notice the message until almost an hour later when she got up to get coffee and returned to her post. Just then a new message arrived, making the phone screen light up and catching her attention. The notification had a name that for no reason Momo would have expected to read that day, or any other day in the near future.

“Did you forget that I exist?” “I guess you're too busy to respond.”

Momo stared at the screen of her phone for a few moments without believing what she had just read. Had Jihyo really sent her those messages just like that? It was incredible that after everything she was talking to her as if nothing had happened, as if it were Momo who had simply decided to stop talking to her overnight.

At first she thought about not responding and forgetting about it, letting it go and diving back into her boring work. But curiosity got the better of her than the sudden anger she was feeling. She had always had a special soft spot for Jihyo, even though she knew they weren't real feelings. Rather, it was a carnal issue, something rooted deep inside her that forced her to respond to the call of the younger woman every time she wanted it.

But this time months had passed, and things were very different than they had been before they had that “little” argument. To begin with, Momo had decided to leave behind all those nights and days they spent together making love, in one of the two's apartments or wherever Jihyo had summoned her. They had been wonderful moments filled with pure lust, but they had come to an abrupt end the day Momo found out that Jihyo had a boyfriend.

It was just a few days after Jihyo begin to her new relationship. They had met up with friends they had in common and one of them congratulated Jihyo on finding a boyfriend. For some reason finding out like this didn't sit well with Momo. It wasn't like she felt love for Jihyo, or thought that they could to have something together, that had never been the deal. But it still felt like a betrayal that it wasn't Jihyo herself who told her personally, after all it was Momo who fucked her in the back of her car whenever Jihyo was in need. At least she deserved some honesty.

The argument that came when the two of them could finally be alone was not pleasant at all. After all, they were never a real couple, so Momo had no right to claim anything. From the beginning it had been something purely carnal, something to satisfy their intimate needs, and Jihyo emphasized very clearly that Momo was always aware of that. In any case, it hurt the Japanese woman not to have found out sooner, it even made her feel a little used. Well, a dating relationship doesn't happen overnight, and the two of them had made love a couple of times that same week. So clearly things weren't adding up for Momo.

Almost five months had passed since that argument, and in all that time they had not spoken. Jihyo's messages had been the first contact they had since then, which is why they took Momo by surprise. It was something that she totally didn't expect to happen that week, much less in that blatant way. Just as if nothing had happened, as if it were Momo's fault that they hadn't been in contact in all this time.

Again she thought about deleting the messages and continuing with her chores, but she found herself sliding her fingers across the screen to type in return.

“I was immersed in work, I didn't see your message.”

Which was true, but it still felt like a cheap excuse. Although she didn't need to excuse herself anyway, if Jihyo had contacted her out of the blue she was surely going to wait for a response no matter what it took. But the most curious thing about that message was that Momo had decided to play the same game as her “friend” by acting as if nothing had happened. As if they had only gone a weekend without speaking, and not almost five full months.

Momo put the phone down on the desk and tried to refocus on reviewing the reports she had received and appeared on her computer screen. When she realized that she had spent the last five minutes reading the same paragraph over and over without understanding anything at all, she gave up. She stopped resisting and checked her phone for a new message, but found nothing. Hadn't Jihyo seen her response? No, if she had spoke first it was sure she had seen it. Momo unlocked the device and verified that Jihyo had indeed read her message. Very typical of her to leave her waiting and force Momo to send another message, but not this time. Once again she left her phone on the desk and tried to get back to work.

Half an hour later Momo had only managed to advance one page in the report, of which she was not sure if she had understood a single word. She got up and went to get more coffee, trying to get as far away from her phone as possible. Trying her best not to send another message when she knew very well that Jihyo was on the other end of the line waiting for it. But Momo felt that inexplicable weakness for Jihyo, that weakness that forced her to write again.

“Looks like I'm not the only one busy at work.”

Momo hated that she had given in so easily, but there was nothing more she could do to resist. What she could do was go get more coffee once and for all, but before she could even lock the phone a new message appeared on the screen. Indeed Jihyo had been waiting patiently for another response from Momo.

“Actually I'm at home, I've taken a few days off.”

Now it was more evident than ever that Jihyo was up to something, it couldn't be that she just chose that moment to repair their friendship. Had she broken up with her boyfriend and needed a fling to get over him? Or was that what Momo wanted to be happening?

"All good? You’re not sick, right?”

A stupid question, because if that were the case Momo would probably be the last person Jihyo would turn to. She knew that very well.

“No, I just needed to do some things. But I solved them sooner than expected and now I have a couple of days free.”

What was Jihyo's game? She was usually much, much, more direct when she wanted sex. But it couldn't be anything more, the two of them had never really been such good friends. They were fucking all the time, that was true, but their relationship went little further than that. Outings to eat or have coffee alone were rare, They never told their problems or asked each other's opinions on something important. So why was Jihyo taking so long to ask the question?

“Your boyfriend is lucky because can have you more time for him these days.”

A pretty bold move on Momo's side, but if Jihyo wasn't going to do something she would do it first. Mentioning her boyfriend was Momo's little revenge for all that time without speaking to each other.

“Quite a bit, but Sungbin is out of town on a work travel.” “By the way, is anyone lucky enough to be your boyfriend or girlfriend?”

The messages arrived a few seconds apart, and the truth was that Momo didn't expect to receive that question as an answer. She had tried to make a risky move and Jihyo had won once again.

“Work keeps me too busy to think about that. I got promoted so now I have to work even harder.”

It was a sad reality, but it was the pure truth. Work consumed almost all of Momo's free time, so she didn't have the luxury of meeting anyone new. Much less try to start a romantic relationship with someone.

“That's a shame, considering how well you fuck. You should at least get a cute assistant to give you a head under your desk.”

There was. Finally Jihyo had tired of detours and had taken the first step towards what had always connected them most strongly. Always so direct, so to the point when she wanted something. A little bossy and severe for the taste of many, but Momo liked that. At least this way things were clear and not had confusions.

“That would be quite inappropriate… My office has glass walls, so everyone could see.”

A real shame because that took away a lot of Momo's privacy, but after all she wasn't in a position high enough to have a private office. There were also rumors that in the past they had caught someone doing just what Jihyo proposed, and that was the reason why the offices were not private now. Although the glass on the walls was fogged, you could still see clearly enough what was happening inside. But that was something Jihyo didn't need to know.

“The public didn't seem to matter to you when I was the one giving you head in the university library. Do you remember how much fun we used to have together?”

How could she forget all those times when Jihyo had simply disappeared under the library table to give her a blowjob? Momo had always had a hard time staying silent and pretending to continue studying for an exam when she had Jihyo between her legs giving a masterclass on how to suck a cock. On more than one occasion they had missed a sound that almost gave them away, but luckily no one ever discovered them. Not in the university library, not in the bathrooms, not behind the baseball team's locker room, or in any other place where they had carried out their obscenities.

“I get hard just remembering it.”

Momo sent that message without even thinking about it, without stopping to reflect that once again she had fallen into Jihyo's clutches without realizing it.

“Are you hard? I can see?"

The phone almost slipped out of her hands when she read that message. Not even in the wildest of her fantasies she expect such a bold move from Jihyo. Which it pained her to admit had been many during all that time that they had not spoken to each other.

“Jihyo, we shouldn't. You have a boyfriend."

Momo hoped that the mention of Sungbin could make Jihyo back off on her intentions, but since she had initiated this conversation she didn't expect to actually achieve it.

“It can't hurt him if he doesn't find out. Or do you need more motivation besides your memory?”

The real surprise of the afternoon came for Momo in the form of two photographs that arrived immediately after Jihyo's last message. In the images Jihyo could be see standing in front of the mirror in her room, a mirror that Momo remembered very well because many times they had done perverted things in front of it. The frame showed the reflection of Jihyo's room and in the center of the photos the woman posing only in her underwear. A simple but comfortable black outfit, with white details on the panties, that was all that covered Jihyo's humanity.

Momo swallowed heavily, her mouth suddenly dry. She needed another cup of coffee more than ever, so she left the phone on the desk and went to fill out her mug. As if getting away from her phone would magically make Jihyo's messages disappear. But when she came back they were still there, as real as they could be.

Momo picked up the phone and started typing a message, but deleted it before sending it. No, she couldn't say that now. She thought for a few seconds and wrote again.

“Wooow!! You look as great as ever.”

Momo was going to try to avoid the inevitable for as long as necessary, before finally letting herself be carried away by the lust that Jihyo awakened in her. But the truth is that she was failing miserably in this pathetic attempt to hide the fact that her cock had already woken up because of those photos.

“You can come take a closer look. You know where I live."

Jihyo was definitely serious about this. Which implied that she was actively looking for Momo to be cheat on her boyfriend. A certainly tempting offer, but one that did not completely convince the Japanese woman.

“Jihyo, we shouldn't do that to Sungbing.”

It was amazing that Momo was being the voice of reason here, but she really didn't want to be used as a toy and then abandoned again. It didn't sit well with her to be caught in the middle of some strange game between the couple, so she had to analyze her options very carefully.

“Forget about him, I already told you he left the city.” “The one I miss fucking is you. Sungbing doesn't do it as well as you. He cannot satisfy me.”

Jihyo certainly had a pretty big sexual appetite, and because Momo easily gave in to all her requests, she had always been her favorite companion. That for years, since they met at college, until a few months ago when Jihyo began her relationship with Sungbing. That had been the end of that non-verbal agreement in which they both turned to each other when they needed pleasure and their own touches were not enough.

But then that was what it was about, Jihyo needed her once again to satisfy her needs since her boyfriend was not capable of doing so. Which Momo had to admit made her a little proud, it boosted her ego that even though her friend was in a stable relationship she still had to turn to her for such matters. Although that also meant that Jihyo didn't value their friendship enough to try to repair things for any other reason, she only did it because she found herself in need of a good fling. In short, Jihyo was more interested in Momo's cock and the way she used it than Momo herself.

“We can’t anymore.”

Momo took as long as she could to write that message, always doubting whether she would send it or not. In the end she decided to do it and put her phone aside, but before she was even able to close the chat new photos appeared on the screen. Jihyo was clearly expecting a response like that and had a plan to fight back, because there was no way she would have taken those photos so quickly after reading Momo's message.

In the new images Jihyo was standing in the same place, in front of the mirror in her room, except now the poses were different. That in addition to the fact that her underwear could no longer be seen anywhere, but that, far from meaning that she had put on more clothes, was quite the opposite. Now Jihyo was completely naked, standing in front of the mirror as if she was showing off her outfit. But of course, there were no clothes to show. Just her humanity completely naked, just her and nothing else.

Momo couldn't stop looking at Jihyo's angelic face, but her friend's large breasts topped with brown nipples distracted her greatly. Her mouth was watering as her throat was dry, almost as if her own body was laughing at her. Memories of all those times she had played with those perfect breasts passed through her mind. The many occasions in which she had had them in her mouth and had felt firsthand how Jihyo's nipples hardened.

“I'll be there in half an hour.”

It was clear that after seeing those photos Momo couldn't take it anymore, she couldn't keep fooling herself with this false resistance towards Jihyo. To hell with everything, she herself was very aware of that carnal weakness she felt for Jihyo that forced her to abandon everything when the other one called her to fuck.

"I'll wait for you in bed. Use your keys.”

Momo quickly grabbed her things and left her office, telling her subordinates that something personal had come up and that she would take the rest of the afternoon off. Then she left, but not before making a quick stop in the bathroom, where she took the photo Jihyo had asked about earlier. A pretty decent snapshot of her cock as hard as it could be right now, in the photo it could almost be seen how Momo's shaft was throbbing with anticipation. But she din’t sent it, not yet.

Momo waited until she got into her Uber to send the photo to Jihyo, and as expected she sent her a new photo. This time Jihyo was lying on her bed, as she had said she would wait, with her legs raised, which is why you could clearly see her most private parts.

“I want to see how you touch yourself for me.”

Jihyo had really decided to torture Momo that day.

“I can't, I'm already on my way to your house.”

It was laughable to think that Momo would give in to that request, but then why was she putting her hand to her crotch? Oh, maybe it was because Jihyo had counterattacked with the most explicit image yet. The woman was still in bed, except now she had one hand resting on her head and her legs were open. The photo had been taken from her crotch, so Jihyo's private parts could now be seen in even greater detail. It was the definitive attack that Momo needed to be completely defeated, since the duality of Jihyo's serene and sweet expression contrasted greatly with the obscene nature of the photo. Momo was melting and was seriously thinking about sneakily stroking her cock over her clothes, but there was something else in the photo that made her reconsider.

She hadn't noticed it in the previous photo, since Jihyo's legs covered them, but on the wall behind the woman there were hanging several photos of her and her boyfriend. The sudden memory that Momo was on her way to the apartment that Jihyo shared with Sungbing, precisely to fuck her friend while her boyfriend was away, did not sit well with Momo’s erection. She could almost lose her sanity when it came to making love with Jihyo, but that didn't take away the discomfort she felt about cheating on Sungbing. Which is why she decided to put away her phone and wait to be face to face with her friend to settle this carnal matter.

Fifteen minutes after seeing that last photo, and ignoring all the messages she knew Jihyo had sent her, Momo was in front of the door of his friend's apartment. Firmly holding the key that would open that lock, as if trying to think one last time if this was a good idea. Of course it wasn't, but Momo was free to deceive herself as much as she wanted.

She put the key in the lock, a key that was incredible that she still held. Momo had thought many times during these five months about throwing it in the trash or getting rid of it in some other way, but she always ended up giving up. It was ridiculous how she even continued to carry it in the bunch of keys that belonged to her own apartment, as if she still harbored the secret hope of needing that key again someday. As if always carrying it with her was insurance, if indeed happened what was happening now, but that didn't matter anymore. For now Momo just sighed and entered the apartment.

Few things had changed in the room since the last time she was there, it remained practically the same. Except for a few additions that revealed that Sungbing now lived there, Momo was greeted by the same apartment she had been in a million times before. That apartment that belonged to someone who was not her partner, nor did either of them want it to be that way, but to which she still kept the key so she could sneak out when necessary.

Momo left her bag and keys on the small table near the entrance, hung her jacket in the place designated for it, and getting on the sleeves of her blouse headed to the room where she knew Jihyo was waiting for her. It wasn't very wide, like the rest of the apartment, but even so, a double bed could fit perfectly in the place, leaving enough space on the sides. The last time Momo had been in that room the bed was smaller, that was perhaps the most noticeable change she could see. Oh! of course, the bed and the many photos of the happy couple that were hanging on the walls. There was an entire section of a wall dedicated to the happy times they had together in these five months, which left a bitter taste in Momo as it reminded her once again of what she was doing here. She was simply as a lover, as nothing more than an adventure.

Jihyo was lying on the wide bed, waiting patiently with her legs spread like appeared in the last photograph, and with that angelic expression on her face. That expression that would never make you imagine that she had just called her fuck friend to cheat on her boyfriend. Jihyo knew that she didn't have to do anything more than lay there looking at her to activate in Momo that animal hunger she felt for her, the mere sight of the woman as she came into the world was already enough to drive Momo crazy. Especially after so long of being deprived of that beautiful image.

"You came."

"You called me."

A simple exchange of words that might seem banal, but they clearly showed that Momo was there because she had been summoned. Jihyo's messages had made her abandon everything in her routine day, and break into the couple's apartment.

After taking off her shoes, Momo walked on all fours on the bed, quickly reaching Jihyo's body and climbing on top of her. The scarf that the older girl was wearing tied around her neck like a tie tickled Jihyo as Momo left delicate kisses on her skin. Starting from Jihyo's belly and ascending slowly and ceremoniously until she reached her neck, where she sucked right at the point where she knew it drove the woman beneath her crazy. But she separated her lips from the tanned skin almost instantly, Jihyo's body had never been hers, and never would be, to mark and leave traces of love.

In situations like this, words were unnecessary between the two of them. They had spent so much time having those types of furtive encounters, satisfying each other's needs, that they knew each other and complemented each other very well. So it was not necessary to verbalize what they wanted, they simply needed a gesture or a caress to make themselves understood. Which is why when Momo felt Jihyo's fingers playing with the hairs on the back of her neck, she understood perfectly what she wanted. With a long lick she ran from her collarbone to behind Jihyo's right ear, another of her sensitive spots, earning a shiver and a muffled moan from Jihyo.

Also without saying anything, Jihyo fumbled for the zipper of Momo's pants and put her hand inside, playing with the Japanese woman's semi-erect penis while she continued giving hickeys on her neck. Even through the fabric of the boxers, Momo could perfectly feel the gentle touch on her member, how Jihyo's expert fingers caressed the right places. In the same way that Momo left kisses and hickeys where she knew they gave Jihyo the most pleasure, the latter caressed and squeezed where she knew Momo was most sensitive.

It was all simply a game to see who would give in to desperation first, to see who would be the first to blindly give in to pleasure. A game in which Momo lost most of the time because she was not able to endure Jihyo's caresses for long without practically melting. But at least this time the Japanese would try to make things different, she couldn't just fall at Jihyo's feet just like that after all this time. In that sense it was more a battle against herself than against Jihyo.

The kisses she was placing on the youngest's jaw gave Momo a small advantage, now she could practically feel the woman's wetness on the knee she had pressed against her center. Even through her slack pants she was able to perceive Jihyo's slippery moisture staining the garment.

As if it were confirmation, Jihyo pressed Momo's head pushing her away of her jaws and guiding it towards her crotch. She needed her to use her mouth somewhere else and she wasn't willing to wait.

With a smile on her lips, Momo gave a long, slow lick on Jihyo's slit, savoring the appetizing delicacy that had been denied her for such a long period of time. The small shiver that ran through the woman's body told her how needy she was for her touch, and the moans that followed confirmed that she was doing it right. With an expertise that had been given to her by all these years of pleasing Jihyo, Momo licked right where she had to, contoured the edges of her petals the way she knew she liked, and wrapped her tongue around her clit the way she knew drove Jihyo crazy.

After a few minutes of this Jihyo had the first orgasm of the afternoon, or at least what they both hoped would be the first of many. Between spasms and pressing Momo's head against her crotch, she climaxed in a way that she apparently had not achieved in these five months. All these years had made Momo an expert at pleasuring her, or maybe after all this time it was she who couldn't be satisfied any other way than how Momo did it. That was a dangerous idea that Jihyo didn't want to delve into right now, and maybe never.

“I need you out of your clothes.” More than a suggestion, it was an order to try to gain some control over the situation again. Anyway, Momo obeyed, as she always did.

The Japanese woman first got rid of the scarf tied around her neck, then continued with the blouse that was thrown to the side, and finally took off her bra, revealing her large breasts. Jihyo thought that somehow she looked imposing kneeling on the bed, wearing only her pants and looking at her with that voracious but contained hunger that her eyes reflected right now. Her black hair fell in cascades of strands over her shoulders, framing her torso, hiding a little more of her semi-nudity. Despite the cold of the room, Momo's skin seemed to radiate a heat that enveloped her completely, anticipation and lust protecting her from the winter weather.

Jihyo wanted to touch Momo's toned abs, caress them and run her fingers over them. She wanted to ride the Japanese woman's abdomen and rub against her muscles. Ride her and feel each of the reliefs of her powerful abdomen against her center until the pleasure made her explode, as she had done many times before. But she also had the overwhelming need to feel Momo's meat inside her, so she resisted her base impulses and took a condom from the nightstand while the Japanese woman it ended to undress

Now Momo's member stood in full in front of Jihyo, powerful and full of blood just the way she liked it. The Korean, who was now on all fours, placed a chaste kiss on the tip that was already dripping in anticipation. After that, she put the open condom on her lips and without using her hands gobbled Momo's penis completely, sheathing it in the process in the condom. No gagging, no nausea reflexes, no complications, she simply swallowed the member until she felt the latex pressing against her throat, until her nose touched Momo's pelvis. And without further ado, after moving the muscles of her throat to massage the member in her mouth, she withdrew and lay down as she was when Momo arrived to the room.

The Japanese girl didn't need a written invitation to finally do what she had come here to do, so she leaned over Jihyo and took her member in her hand guided it towards the warm center of the korean. With a slow but uninterrupted movement the folds finally gave way, giving way to the thick member that desecrated such a delicate temple of pleasure.

Jihyo gasped, adjusting to Momo's size, which earned her a proud giggle from the Japanese woman, a laugh that was quickly silenced by a passionate kiss. Jihyo could feel her own essence on Momo's lips but she didn't care, it wasn't the first time she had done something like that. Over time she had learned that the least she could do to reward the Japanese woman after she used her mouth to give her pleasure was to give her a kiss. So she was completely used to testing herself like that.

The kiss they shared was passionate and somewhat hungry, the fire ran through their bodies and forced them to gasp into each other's mouths while they continued moving their lips at a frenetic pace. Jihyo's hands burned on Momo's butt as the latter began to move her hips.

More gasps escaped Jihyo as she felt Momo pull out of her almost completely and back in all at once. Filling her and forcing her walls to adapt to the length and diameter of a member they knew very well.

There was no love in the act they were performing, they both knew it, but there was a lot of lust. A lot of desire for another's body, and that incessant hunger for more and more pleasure. Hunger that was very easy to confuse with love. Hunger that made Jihyo cross her legs behind Momo, as if trying to prevent her from going somewhere even though she knew very well that the Japanese would never abandon her in the middle of the act.

Even though Momo was constantly exercising, right now her abs were burning because of the constant swinging of her hips. But she loved feeling how Jihyo's body trembled with each of her thrusts, feeling how the Korean woman's breasts bounced and rubbed against her own, making her nipples harden in the process. Her muscles ached, yes, but the reward for that little pain was so great that it made it a minuscule price to pay.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the small room mixing with the gasps and moans of both women, in a cacophony of lust and unparalleled pleasure that showed how committed they were to this. Oh, they were going to take this little adventure as far as they could, they would make it last as long as it was in their power because they were both hungry for each other in a way they had never felt before. Practically five months without touching each other left them starving for the pleasure that only they knew how to give each other. Hadn't it been Jihyo herself who had said that her boyfriend didn't satisfy her like Momo? For her part, the Japanese woman had not been able to find real pleasure in any of the few lovers she had had during this time, so much so that she had actually stopped trying after the second or third failed encounter.

But despite all that hunger and weakness they felt for each other, they both knew that there was no love there. It was just carnal pleasure and a physics codependency on the other that could be interpreted as something else, but that they knew was not. It was clear that they were not compatible as a couple, perhaps not even as friends, but in all these years they had come to explore each other's bodies so much that they already knew all the tricks and secrets they hid. They had learned where to caress, how to rub, or where to kiss to maximize each other's pleasure and fully fulfill their part of a silent treatment that they never really talked about.

They had met in their second year of university through friends they had in common and had almost instantly hated each other. But as if it were a bad romance story, after getting drunk and half-fighting on a night of partying, they ended up locked in a bathroom fucking as if their lives depended on it. That was the first time and after that night things between them were fixed, now they were friends with benefits. But they never really talked about it, never a word was said about their situation or what their role was in each other's lives. They simply had sex when one of them made the call, or both were so needy that they couldn't wait any longer. And so the days passed between furtive encounters and long nights of pleasure, days that quickly turned into years. It also didn't help that the only real partner any of them had had in all this time was Sungbing, so it was the first time they found themselves in that situation. Something that they did not resolve well at all.

And now they were here. Jihyo with her legs crossed behind Momo who put all her effort into penetrating her in a way that made her moan in a special voice tone. Once again having sex without having talked about their relationship or what this meeting meant for both of them. But what difference did that make when the pleasure threatened to fry their brains and simply make them addicted to each other's bodies.

“Let me do some of the work.” Jihyo said when Momo was finally forced to stop to rest. Of course the Korean was not going to let her stop cold at a moment like that, so Momo lay on her back on the bed and Jihyo faced her. The korean guided Momo's penis towards her own center, and descending quickly, she impaled herself on the Japanese woman's member. This time an actual moan left her mouth as the entire length was inside her soaked crotch.

Now it was Jihyo who was in charge of the movement, while the Japanese woman played with her breasts and reached out to kiss her or lick her neck, the Korean woman rode with great skill. Jihyo had her hands on Momo's worked abs, supporting all her weight on them; which allowed her to move without resistance and put Momo's meat as deep inside her as it had not been in a long time.

While Momo's moans were more like panting, sometimes even sounding like a dog trying to catch its breath, Jihyo's moans on the other hand were powerful. Right now the Korean was praying that the walls would contain the sounds she made, because if someone filed a noise complaint against her then Sungbing would find out about her little affair. But even by biting her lip she was not able to silence the moans that came out of her mouth, hoarse and deep noises produced in the depths of her lungs. Same sounds that turned into a high-pitched moan as Jihyo reached her second climax of the afternoon. Luckily for them, the relentless weather helped mask what was happening in there from the neighbors.

Outside the rain was hitting the window, and inside Jihyo was pouring her wetness on Momo's member. Squeezing Momo's abs with all the strength she had, Jihyo held herself upright as the spasms of orgasm coursed through her entire body. She knew she had probably marked her nails on the Japanese woman's belly, but she didn't care about that. Unlike Jihyo, the older woman had no need to hide the marks of her pleasure.

When she had finally calmed down enough, Jihyo fell on top of her friend, who received her with a hug and sweet caresses on her hair. The way Momo was kissing Jihyo's shoulder, and doing her best to comfort her, anyone would have thought they were a happy couple. Nothing further from reality. While the Korean had her face hidden in Momo's neck, the latter caressed her hair and back; helping her catch her breath after her orgasm.

“I can still feel inside me how hard you are.” Jihyo said, placing small kisses directly on Momo's lips. A gesture perhaps too romantic for their situation.

Momo, for her part, smiled, wrinkling her nose like she did when she was happier. “You can't blame me, I haven't cum yet.” Before continuing speaking she captured Jihyo's lips in a kiss that lasted longer than it should. "Want-"

“I need you to finish inside… With the condom on.” If there was one thing Jihyo didn't need right now it was a baby, much less one from Momo. And given the time she had spent without connecting with her friend, she didn't want Momo's cock anywhere else right now that would allow her to cum without using the latex barrier.

Squeezing Jihyo's buttocks and kissing her jaw again she whispered in an unnecessarily low tone. “In that case I want you on all fours, like the obedient pet that you are.” The cases where Momo showed such dominance were rare, especially with Jihyo, but she knew that on this occasion she could afford it. And as she predicted, she could feel how the Korean woman's center squeezed her shaft once more in anticipation, she could have sworn that she even felt Jihyo getting wet again because of those words.

Jihyo obediently got off Momo, but not before moaning when she felt the Japanese woman's member come out of her, she hated feeling this empty. She got on her knees and leaning her weight on her chest used both hands to spread her buttocks, giving Momo a perfect view of the feast in front of her. Again, a strange case where Jihyo was carried away by Momo's demands. But the effect that whisper had had on her was inexplicable. Normally Jihyo was the one who took the lead, she herself had been the one who had asked to be fucked that way, but when Momo got like this a weakness awoke in her that she tried to hide at all costs and always failed miserably to do so.

The Japanese woman had to resist the urge to devour her friend's back entrance, she would have time for that later, and instead she concentrated on penetrating her again because she knew that Jihyo didn't like spending a lot of time without her shaft inside her. A single firm thrust was enough to have Jihyo moaning again.

The room quickly filled again with the obscene noises that both women were making. Momo's hips slapping against Jihyo's buttocks made a clapping noise that made it seem like an invisible audience was applauding their illicit act. That added to Jihyo's moans and Momo's grunts from the effort completed a symphony that was the perfect soundtrack for that situation. Something that contrasted greatly with the sound of the rain lashing the window.

After a few minutes the Japanese woman's muscles were burning again, but again she ignored the sensation and continued with the pleasant task of fucking Jihyo. Despite it being a cold afternoon due to the rain, sweat accumulated on her forehead; making clear the effort she was making. Jihyo's back was also beaded with small pearls of sweat, even though the time she had been moving had been less. But the heat they both radiated made them feel as if they were on a sweltering summer afternoon.

Now the Korean woman was only limited to moaning and clutching the sheets, while her face very clearly expressed the pleasure she was feeling. Jihyo found Momo's physical stamina admirable when they were in that position, or in any position where the Japanese woman was the one who had to make the most effort. They were the moments when the results of all those hours in the gym were visible, which were partly precisely to be able to gain resistance to please Jihyo. Who also exercised a lot, but in this position that only served to make her ass look rounder and more appetizing. Still Momo loved the sight of Jihyo's toned muscles, well defined but still soft enough to see them quiver with each of her thrusts.

It was curious how Jihyo's boyfriend also worked out a lot, much more than the two women combined, but it was still Momo who had the stamina to make her cum as many times as necessary. It was Momo who onslaught her with just enough force to make her buttocks bounce the way she liked and hit that sweet point that maximized her pleasure. At the end of the day it was only the Japanese woman who knew all the secrets of Jihyo's body.

Momo's chest was moving not only because of her thrusts, but also because of how agitated she was breathing. A small cloud of mist came out of her mouth every time she exhaled because the room was certainly cold, but still neither of them were able to feel it. How could they do it when pleasure ran through their bodies from top to bottom, and lust oozed from their pores. No, at times like this they forgot everything. The world around them disappeared and they only had eyes for each other. They were just two bodies dancing in an infinite mating ritual, as if the pleasure clouded their senses completely and enveloped them in a spiral of fire.

For Momo, seeing Jihyo reduced to a bundle of moans and tremors as a result of her thrusts was a separate satisfaction; it added something extra to the pleasure she already felt simply by fucking her. It was something like an extra reward because deep down, not so deep down really, they both knew that Momo was the only one capable of achieving that. They both knew that with her it was real and not something fake because in none of their encounters during all these years had Jihyo had to fake an orgasm. The countless moisture stains that had accumulated on Momo's clothes were reliable proof of that.

Jihyo's almost hoarse moans had given way to higher-pitched ones, confirming that she was once again close to the much-prized climax. Little by little the moans had risen to such a high pitch that normally she had to repress, but on occasions like these, when they were completely alone, she allowed herself not to. If there was no one here who could hear them, no one other than the neighbors perhaps, there was no point in trying to control her moans.

For her part, Momo could swear that she felt how her friend's insides were squeezing her more than before, how she was contracting around her in anticipation of another orgasm. An orgasm that took almost no time to arrive, but that didn't stop Momo from continuing to move her hips. If Jihyo missed being fucked by the Japanese girl so much, then that was what she was going to have. Between the spasms and contractions of Jihyo's body, between her high-pitched moans and heavy breathing, Momo continued to thrust, taking the Korean to a new threshold of pleasure. Momo was literally fucking Jihyo through her orgasm, and the only thing the latter could do was squeeze the sheets tighter, to the point that her knuckles turned white, and continue moaning uncontrollably.

The Japanese woman did not stop until she herself was on the verge of orgasm, then with one last strong thrust she buried her entire length inside Jihyo, and remained still holding onto her hips while she spilled her load inside the condom. Despite the latex barrier Jihyo could feel that familiar warmth flooding inside her, pressing against her walls as more and more of the thick fluid gushed out of Momo's shaft. The sheer sensation of being filled but at the same time not made her practically drip her own fluids onto the bed.

It was incredible how despite having had a third orgasm just a few moments ago, Momo was revolutionizing her hormones so much that Jihyo was ready to continue. Whether the Japanese woman wanted to continue pounding her, using her fingers or her mouth, or if Jihyo regained control and mounted her again, or even if Momo decided to use a toy to get another orgasm out of her. In any of those cases Jihyo was willing to continue with this illicit wrongful act in order to fill the void that these five months without fucking Momo had meant.

But the Japanese woman was tired, and although Jihyo didn't recognize it, so was she, so when her breathing calmed down a little, Momo withdrew from inside the Korean woman and fell back on the bed. For her part, Jihyo suppressed a small moan as she felt empty again, and feeling how her legs were flanking her, she also let herself fall onto the wrinkled sheets.

There they were both on the bed, one on her back and the other lying on her stomach. One with the member still hard and with the fluids staining her abdomen, and the other with her legs separated because the strong thrusts had left her with difficulty to move her lower extremities. Both in a cold room, where their breath formed mist, and the only thing that radiated heat was their bodies fueled by lust. Both in the room that Jihyo shared with her boyfriend, a boyfriend who of course was not Momo.

#twice #twice fanfic #momo smut #twice smut #jihyo smut #mohyo #kpop fanfic #mohyo smut

[jayden-killer]

DREAMS ARE MY REALITY. (pt. 4)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

What would happen if your favourite fictional character appeared in your bed...?

A/N: oh boy. This is 1000% certificated angst. *cries hard* ALSO ITS BEEN ALMOST ONE YEAR OMG I'm back!!!

Taglist (write me down in the comments if you want to be added!): @strxngegirl @d1lf-loverrr @laysmt @musicalhistorical @souichi-sbitch

☆

Miguel and I didn't have much to do that day. My boss had let me take a few days off, and I was somewhat relieved. The possibility of not going to work in those days turned into an opportunity to strengthen the bond with Miguel. Now he lived in my house until his Gizmo adjusted and he was able to get through to Lyla. I didn't mind his presence, because I had always considered him as my friend, or maybe more than a friend, even before I knew he was real.. But that didn't matter. Miguel was going to leave sooner or later. And this would also lead to a void in my heart. I decided to chase those thoughts away and suggest that he take a walk in the city park near my house that morning. He agreed.

°☆°

The humidity was gone, and I remember him blowing a light cool breeze that ruffled our hair and clothes. On our way to the park, we didn't talk much. I had guessed that Miguel was a man of few words, but I still hoped that he had something to say. Anything.

"Here we are" I let my face adorn itself with a smile "A little fresh air won't hurt you. Lately you've always been locked up in my studio trying to find a solution to get back into your dimension".

"Indeed" he agreed, looking around "But it's not a situation to be underestimated. I'm afraid Lyla is broken"

"I'm sure you'll find the right solution, but it's not good for you to be stuck indoors 24/7. Even I go out once in a while!" I replied, joking. There seemed to be a small smile on his face. "Maybe yes..."

My gaze fell on a café, never seen before, which had probably recently opened. I figured a coffee or something might help miguel relax even more. I met his eyes, tired and thoughtful. "Would you like a coffee?" I proposed.

"Okay. No sugar, but milk...and medium"

"Wow, the big boy is thirsty this morning!"

“Whatever, get in line, since there's a lot of them.” He rolled his eyes annoyed. "Okay, you stay here, I think it won't take me long. The queue is flowing" With that, I left Miguel for a few minutes, hoping that nothing had happened, nothing strange or bad. But maybe I was wrong. And I could not have foreseen it.

Miguel remained silent, watching his friend leave. He took a deep breath and looked around for the third time, then sat down on a nearby bench. He admired the children's play area for a while (at least, it seemed to him a while) and tried not to think about it at all. But it was not easy for him not to think of his beloved Gabriella. Her beloved, perfect child. Every time her face came back to him, the memories resurfaced and he always ended up in a difficult situation, in which he either cried or was forced to repress that sadness. And the second option today was the one he would have chosen. Crying in public, at his age... "You're a grown-up adult, O'Hara, act like one! Gabriel wouldn't be happy about that, so don't try to cry-"

"Excuse me, sir, but can you get the ball out of those bushes? It's too high".

That voice managed to bring Miguel back to reality and he noticed a pretty, little girl in soccer gear and her face slightly covered in mud. Miguel's eyes widened, his heart rate accelerated considerably and he seemed to forget what was around him. He almost forgot even the little girl's ball. He was too busy watching the girl smile politely at him, patiently waiting for him to give her the ball back. Nodding weakly, he got up off the bench, plucking the ball from the branches with ease. The little girl jumped with happiness and took back the ball that Miguel handed her, to then give him an even bigger smile.

"Thank you very much, sir!"

"Gabriella..."

His words flew out of her mouth without a second thought. "Is that you, Gabriella?"

"Thank you". Smiles to the bartender, carrying in hand the two glasses full of coffee. On one of them there was written "Miguel :)". I specifically asked the bartender to draw a smiley face, because I thought it was cute. But as I was walking to the place where I had left Miguel a few minutes ago, I almost dropped my coffee by the hand. My mouth opened with surprise. I never expected to find Miguel chatting happily, inches away, with a little girl. His tail was high and he was wearing sportswear, while he was swinging his legs with a football on his legs. That little girl had a very familiar face. I thought I saw her somewhere. It was at that moment that I realized: it was the carbon copy of Gabriella, Miguel’s daughter. But what was she doing there? Why was she there?

My legs moved by themselves, getting closer and closer to eavesdropping on the scene. And so Miguel noticed me: he looked up from the child’s eyes and, unexpectedly, smiled at me. I never thought I’d see Miguel smiling. He radiated a warm, warm smile that made my heart cliff. Gabriella really had a strong influence on him.

"I... I brought you your coffee," I said without a second thought, and I stretched my arm, passing the glass. He nodded, and took it. She opened and closed her mouth when she finally spoke. "She is Gabriella"

"Great pleasure!" The girl gave me a bright smile and waved at me, so I waved back.

"My pleasure. W-Wha..?" My head moved towards Miguel's direction, visibly confused. "What is happening?"

"She, huh... I pulled a football out of a hedge. And now she’s telling me that she had auditioned for a major soccer team" Miguel explained. I had the distinct feeling that he was almost justifying himself as if it was wrong for him to talk to a shameless copy of his daughter. I never thought there was one on this Earth. Where did she come from? All that was missing were anomalies that appeared outside of multidimensional portals and began to disrupt the city. I shuddered at the thought. Maybe not.

"Oh" I sighed, and smiled embarrassed. "Anyway... cool!"

"Yeah," Miguel smiled even more when his eyes fell on Gabriella’s adorable face. "Can I see some dribble? I bet you’re really good"

"Sure, sir!" Gabriella got up from the bench with speed and, without wasting time, showed us some dribble she made with her foot. The ball held its balance on the tip of her foot, and Gabriella took on a real concentrated expression, frowning her eyebrows. At the end of that, she smiled all satisfied, and asked, "Was I good?"

I clapped my hands, clearly surprised by his performance and showed a big smile. Miguel joined too, clapping more than me. He leaned over her and messed up her tied hair. "You were great, mija".

Mija.

He had unknowingly called her mija.

In my heart, I hoped that Gabriella did not know Spanish. But she didn’t say anything, on the contrary, she smiled even more at his praise. That little girl was special to Miguel, I could read his face. " Now I have to go. Bye, sir!" She waved at him, and we did the same, watching her running away and returning to the park area. That's when I decided to finally sit beside Miguel, coffee still in my hand. I didn't want to look up at him. I could sense he had a look full of sorrow, and decided to keep looking at my coffee.

"She's great".

"Huh?".

"I mean, she's... Great." It was his time to sigh now, shooking his head and chuckling. "I didn't know there was one of her here".

"Neither did I".

Our brief conversation ended in an awkward silence. This was until Miguel decided to keep talking to me. "I'm not saying it's your fault. Of course, it's not, you couldn't know. I'm just saying...I miss her".

Oh. I didn't expect that confession. Miguel wasn't one to express to another person his feelings, and maybe this was the perfect occasion to him to show that he really missed Gabriella.

I couldn’t imagine how he felt devastated to see a variant of his daughter here when he didn’t see it coming. It was the last thing on his mind. All those memories that he tried to repress, all the emotions that he felt for his daughter, now surfaced. Maybe I was stupid to take him out that sunny afternoon. Maybe it was better if we both stayed home. But still, as he said, how could I know?

I glanced at Miguel, who was smiling faintly. Nom had still touched his coffee. " Don’t worry. I know you really miss her".

"My precious girl...".

His voice broke and I saw him shaking. He was...crying. Holding tightly his coffee, he shook and put a hand on his face. He didn't hold himself. Oh, god. No, I couldn't see him crying. This broke my heart. Miguel... was crying. He looked like a scared baby. A baby in a man's body.

I gently took his arm and brought him close to me, placing his head on my shoulder. He buried it more and uncontrollably sobbed. "It's okay, Miguel". With one hand I rubbed his back. "None of this it's your fault. It's okay. You're going to be okay". I softly said, almost like a mother comforting his child. But in reality, I didn't know he was going to be okay. I just hoped he would be, someday.

#marvel imagine #miguel o hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #fan fiction #atvs #miguel o hara x y/n #miguel o hara x reader #angst #marvel x reader

[madsenlover]

under a star - filled sky☆ | creloise.

pairing: cressida cowper x eloise bridgerton.

cressida dreams about kissing eloise, and now she wants to make it happen.

warnings: headcanons? (basically both cressida and eloise ONLY GIRL kissers = lesbians.)

a/n: holis!!, sorry if there's any mistakes and the use of translator is too obvious, english is not my native language. hope you enjoy :))

to this day, cressida has no idea how she let herself be overcome by her intrusive thoughts. but there she was, in front of the bridgertons' house, looking for a way to sneak into the backyard and bribe a maid so she could be alone with eloise.

the more she thought about it, the less she could believe it. in the last few months, her friendship with eloise had become more than intense, and she was surprised, in a good way, at how trusting they were at this point.

at first, something inside her told her that it wouldn't last. perhaps because she knew that the bridgerton girl's approach to her was only due to a mysterious estrangement with penelope featherington, or maybe because she was certain that when her parents found out how close they were, they would try to force her to cut ties with el.

the slightest thought of not being able to continue seeing eloise, on walks or at a ball, tormented her. especially after having dreamed about her. she needed to tell el, to find "a solution" to those thoughts before her parents, especially her mother, realized that she was acting strange and forced the truth out of her with a fearful interrogation.

"cressida?", she heard a cold whisper coming from inside the house. "have you gone mad?, it's the middle of the night."

eloise was dressed in her nightclothes, in her left hand lay her priceless cigarette, which she took the opportunity to smoke outside the house, so that no one in her family would be attracted by the smell.

"pardon me, el.", she said evidently nervous. "i paid your maid to leave us alone, i hope you won't be upset."

"i don't think that was necessary, she would have left us alone if I simply asked her to." she said, as she watched her maid re-enter the house. "but I guess you can still afford to lose some money," eloise took a puff on her cigarette and laughed at the look on cressida's face.

cressida smiled, but remained silent. she was still trying to gather her thoughts so that she could express herself to her.

her now serious look alarmed eloise a little. she usually only saw her preoccupied on evenings when no suitor offered to dance with her. it was unusual for the blonde to have that kind of expression on her face, she thought.

"did something happen to you?", she asked. "you look…paler than usual. it's concerning."

oh, she noticed. cressida was quick to respond:

"indeed, something happened", she began to play vaguely with her hands, avoiding direct contact with eloise's eyes.

she had once heard, she couldn't remember from whom, that looking into eloise bridgerton's eyes was a trap; it would only take a few minutes for her to discover whatever it was you were trying to hide.

after another puff on her cigarette, eloise looked steadily for her friend's gaze. would she tell her what had happened or was she just there to babble?

as soon as cressida's shy eyes met hers, something in eloise softened.

"cressida, you…can tell me anything." she said in a whisper, leaning closer to her. "trust me, I will not judge you…, even when you have come to my house in the scandalous hours of the night."

that made lady cowper giggle. cressida knew she could trust eloise, that the woman in front of her would not judge what she had to say, but the thing was…. serious? unusual? scandalous, indeed.

"eloise…" she took a deep breath, "some time ago, while we were having tea in my garden, you confessed to me that you consider yourself an open-minded woman."

she nodded, finishing her cigarette and stepping on the remains of it.

"as an open-minded woman…", she continued. "have you ever occupied your deepest thoughts with a friend?", with every word, cressida's voice trembled a little more.

eloise blinked several times, confused. "occupy my thoughts with a friend, you mean …. think of a particular friend very often?, write them a letter? well, of course."

"have you never dreamt of a friend?", after analysing what she had just asked, cressida looked at her with wild eyes. had that question really come out of her mouth?.

eloise looked petrified. "i need you to be more specific", she asked.

she wasn't stupid, she had an idea what kind of dreams the girl in front of her was referring to, but for some strange reason she needed to hear her suspicions confirmed.

cressida snorted nervously, she felt there was no need to be more explicit, but anxiety was killing her inside.

"please, tell me again that you're an open-minded woman" she pleaded with her eyes closed, placing her hands on her friend's shoulders.

she could feel eloise's tense body trembling; maybe it was the nerves of the situation or maybe it was a cold night and she hadn't noticed.

"cressida, I…" something in cressida's troubled but angelic face calmed her, and she thought how she had not realised before how beautiful lady cowper was. she shook her head, she had never had difficulty or shame in admitting when a woman was beautiful, but perhaps the moment called for another intervention.

"i am a very open-minded woman", she confirmed.

cressida released her grip slightly, but did not take her hands off eloise's arms. she opened her eyes and sighed.

"I dreamt about you last night," she finally confessed. "i have heard other young ladies say that we should have this kind of dream about any suitor who catches our eye or even any man we find interesting, as inappropriate and scandalous as that may sound."

silence. "say something."

eloise, still petrified, stared directly into cressida's eyes. "I…I don't consider myself a very interesting person, but I'm glad to know that I've caught your attention… "

"eloise!", cressida shouted.

she took her hand and quickly led cressida to the back of the courtyard. eloise couldn't let anyone hear them.

"all right, I apologise.", she laughed a bit. "but do not shout."

"el, this is serious. i'm very ashamed, i'm not in the mood for jokes."

"ashamed?", she knew it was unusual to dream that kind of thing about a woman, but was it so wrong to have dreamt about her precisely?, weren't they friends?.

"i'm already considered an spinster, imagine what could happen to me if people find out that I have these…thoughts."

eloise knew what it was like to be in the public eye, and "fame" had not exactly treated her well. she understood, at least a little, her friend's concern.

she let out a breath of air looking at a specific spot, her mother's little flower garden, she had so many memories there. she looked down and confessed:

"you know, i've dreamt about a female friend before too.", cressida stared at her. "i know how weird it feels, and even though I've never told anyone, i've never been ashamed of it."

"how did you manage to stop it from happening again?", eloise finally looked at her, cressida no longer cared if eloise discovered her ton of secrets, she couldn't, she didn't want to, look away from her beautiful eyes.

"I didn't.", her pale face was decorated with a melancholy smile. "I mean, I haven't had one of those dreams in a while," she clarified. "but it wasn't just one, and they all ended the same way…"

"a kiss." they both said at the same time.

eloise noticed cressida slightly shivering so she took her hand to lead her into the kitchen to the fireplace to warm her up. but she refused to move, she insisted but cressida was stronger.

from the look on her friend's face, eloise knew that lady cowper had an idea and that she would not move from that backyard without making that idea a reality.

"please don't think I've gone mad," she took both of eloise's hands, which made her back tingle, "but I think I understand how we can find out if this thing that's happened to us is something to worry about."

"cressida, i don't think…"

"kiss me." she asked, or perhaps begged. eloise's lips were trembling, she wanted to say something but her friend's request had left her colder than the cold air that night. "just think about it, these dreams torment us because we fear wanting something like that in real life, when we know that these situations are merely our imagination."

eloise was in a state of deep doubt, but she was sure of one thing: the reality that her context offered her - marriage, lots of children and just hosting balls - was not what she wanted for her life.

she remembered her older sister daphne, who indeed spent much of her time doing that and was so happy, she wanted to achieve the same happiness but doing what she was truly passionate about. and to the disgrace of her mother, siblings and above all, society, men were not worthy of her passion.

"if you kiss me," cressida continued, "i will have the real experience and these thoughts will simply disappear."

"cressida these feelings do not 'simply disappear', believe me I've tried".

"just because you have failed doesn't mean I will", there was the cressida that eloise had known for years, her tone disrupting all peace.

she wanted to shut her up, she wanted to show her that those feelings that tormented her so much were not easy to retract.

in fact, eloise wanted cressida not to limit those feelings or what they invited her to do. she thought it would convince her to stop fighting and acknowledge her feelings. maybe she would feel less alone knowing that another woman was going through the same thing she was.

"you're supposed to be my friend, I need you to help..."

"all right, i'll kiss you", she said in a raised voice, higher than she would've allowed herself if she had a maid nearby. "just keep still".

"do you know how to do this?, cressida's gaze betrayed her curiosity, and her impatience to experience the act for the first time in her life.

"I guess all those dreams will come to something", she giggled.

and just like that, under a star-filled sky, eloise bridgerton kissed cressida cowper.

it didn't last more than five seconds, but those were enough for both of them to feel sparks coming out of their chests.

they looked at each other as their lips stopped touching, undecided; they didn't know what to say, or if they should say anything at all.

cressida felt exquisite, the thought of having to push aside those cravings for kissing women kept wandering through her mind, but honestly she couldn't care less at that moment.

shocked, eloise said: "do you mind if I do it again?".

that was the confirmation cressida needed, so this time, it was her who initiated the kiss, at first a little desperate for contact.

a shiver ran down her spine as eloise gently placed her hand behind her neck to intensify the kiss.

kissing her felt so good, it felt right.

cressida had no experience in the art of kissing, nor had she dreamed enough to learn from the resource that eloise was using perfectly.

but she wanted to show her that she was not so naïve when it came to kissing, which was true; her mother instructed her very well when it came to kissing her husband.

so she placed her hands on eloise's cheeks, a gesture she had never seen up close but had heard of at home.

"hands on cheeks are an act of affection, of protection..."

surprised by the contact, eloise broke the kiss for a moment; she stepped back and placed one of her hands on cressida's waist.

"is everything all right?", eloise nodded for reassurance.

"I could get used to this", she said as she played with a strand of blonde hair that fell over her shoulder.

cressida shivered again, god! next time she should bring a better coat.

"it will be an honour to bribe your maid again", she responded with a proud smile.

"you're so lucky to be rich", eloise giggled and kissed her again.

-

-

-

two weeks in the making, this is (hopefully) my first creloise one shot!!. i'm so nervous bc of the language ajdjfs hope it's not that bad 🙏🏼.

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #cressida cowper #cressida x eloise #cressida certified girl kisser #bridgerton netflix

[loveisbraveandwild]

ya know @nowimhaunted said this in the tags of @itwasntasingle post but its absolutely mind boggling to me how in this fandom, so many people think ppl who have met taylor deserve dust and so many ppl specifically treat ppl who have met taylor like the absolute worst and like they should die….. when 99% of the time the ppl who r sending hate are within the first 6 months of their time in the fandom when u look at their accounts like….. ur what??? jealous???? jealous that i was here and stuck around during some of taylors lowest moments and happened to randomly get picked by her to meet her?? (and like fyi sorry but its pretty random shes said so herself) like U JUST GOT HERE!!!! i can literally tell by the way ur treating others that the only reason you are even here is for the clout and drama my god…..

#idk im abvi bias cause ive met her so pls call me out #and i recognize part of it is ppl who have met taylor have more followers in this fandom often times #but like ?????? i still think its so stupid hello #and i guess i will say this was something i noticed before i met her #but nevertheless

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x fem!reader #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you

[reiderwriter]

So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)

A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.

Masterlist

The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting. 

Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds. 

You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you. 

Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man. 

“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.

“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before. 

“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”

“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards. 

“Do you… need a haircut?” 

“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?” 

You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him. 

“Well, are you coming in?” 

“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.” 

“And I'm still here, aren't I?” 

He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon. 

You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad. 

He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair. 

And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon. 

You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink. 

“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water. 

“Okay. Is there anything specific?” 

He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited. 

After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks. 

You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair. 

You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up. 

For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy. 

De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin. 

This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep. 

It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies. 

It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard. 

If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him. 

It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart. 

“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door. 

“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone. 

And he hadn't paid. 

It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway. 

But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted. 

Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought. 

You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time. 

“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.” 

He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time. 

“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-” 

“With haircuts?” 

“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other. 

“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know. 

“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller. 

“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name. 

“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.” 

“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.” 

You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much. 

His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips. 

When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner. 

“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them. 

“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.” 

“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?” 

“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.” 

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down. 

“But what kind of haircut?” 

“What kind?” 

You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book. 

“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-” 

You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused. 

“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?” 

He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors. 

Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes. 

You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated. 

He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked. 

“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right. 

He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air. 

“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard. 

“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.” 

You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended. 

“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment. 

“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door. 

“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off. 

“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful. 

“For your next haircut, Spencer.” 

He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street. 

No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair. 

Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am. 

The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes. 

“Hi.” 

“Spencer! You're back.” 

He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction. 

“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.” 

You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him. 

“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.” 

The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. 

“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies. 

“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair. 

“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…” 

“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him. 

“The hospital?” 

“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”

“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.” 

You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.” 

“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair. 

“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.” 

The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers. 

Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better. 

You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing. 

“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.” 

He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly. 

“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave. 

“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.” 

“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.” 

He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away. 

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out. 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[randomshyperson]

The Bed Issue - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Another retake of Wandavision, this time, the scene with the two single beds.

Warnings: (+18) pure smut, enchanted strap, fingering, creampie, wanda is in charge but r tops, dirty talking, some typical Westview angst (brief reality alteration) but purely sinful | Words: 3.284k

A/N-> At this point, I feel I should start a new collection with all the scenes I rewrote. I miss writing series people, where are my ideas. Also, sorry if there are too many spelling errors, I wrote this on my phone (it's hard to be poor and busy). But good reading!

General Masterlist | AO3

-&-

The sign of two single beds in the room made you giggle right away.

Wanda, who walked in first, looked back at you with curiosity. Her gaze scanned your face as she asked: “What's funny, darling?”

Your eyes found her and a deep sigh escaped your lips, the ghost of that giggle still present in your expression. 

“The beds, Wanda.” You replied quickly, almost offended she couldn't see the absurdity of that. Maybe she was playing innocent. Or at least, that's what her confused gaze looked like. Another sign escaped you. “Why would a married couple sleep on different beds, side by side?”

“Well, I…” but she cut herself mid-sentence, her gaze shifted as if she realized that really didn't make any sense. “I guess you're right.”

The bed moved as quickly as her fingers - the wood jumping to the side to connect and transform into one bed. You smile, moving forward to kiss your wife's cheek.

“Lovely tricks as always, darling.” You praise, catching the soft color rising up her skin before you step to the bathroom. But you comment again, giggling: “How odd that was, two beds.”

Distracted by your own joke, you didn't catch Wanda's shoulder tension. And she could only force a smile, giving a quick gaze at your figure brushing your teeth while mentality praying that for the sake of her poor heart, you wouldn't notice any other weirdness tonight.

-&-

A stupid tree.

A stupid tree branch against the window and things got out of hand completely. At least this time, in a good sense of things.

That is because Wanda found herself pressed into the bed, giggling at our bold hands under her clothes.

She remembers this teasing all too well. Beyond the sexual tension, and the teenage hormones, there was intimacy. You could always make her laugh, no matter the situation. Often, you would do that in inappropriate ones that's for sure. Just for the satisfaction of making her blush deeply when apologizing to whoever was around to testify you making a mess out of her. And then when in a situation like tonight, where it was too hard to breathe and too warm for a coherent thought - teasing fingers where she had tickles was the perfect way to ease her anxiety. To anchor her back and remember it's just you. Her best friend. Warming your way around her skin.

But things were a little - a lot - different in Westview. Neither of you knows why or how, or better saying, Wanda knew to a different extent than you.

When she brought the covers up your bodies, taking the lead for the night and expecting to meet your eagerness to kiss her again, she was met with more giggles.

She stared down at your shiny eyes, leaning into the hand you brought to her cheek.

“It's too warm here.” You let her know softy, and yes, Wanda was quite aware. Kissing you was more than enough to heat her entirely, but doing this under the covers was a challenge. She could feel the sweat starting to drip. She was ready to say she didn't mind, maybe even kiss you to change the subject when you added: “Why would you cover us anyway, darling? There's no one watching.”

It was meant to be a joke, obviously. You don't know. You couldn't know. And your eyes were innocent and your smile was sincere and Wanda hesitated.

Your hand remains on her cheek, the caress never stopping.

“Did I say something wrong? Where did you go just now?” 

She went outside. Outside the hex, all the way to monitors transmitting her sitcom of a fake life. But not really. Because she didn't consciously know about any of this. Yet, some part of her mind did know, and all the TVs that once exhibited her little show, now hold a Stand By sign. 

Wanda was the one who threw the covers aside. The fresh air was well welcome but you're now distracted with the gorgeous woman moving to straddle your hips.

“You're right, there's no one watching.” She says with the same urgency she burst open your pajama shirt. You don't understand the rush, but she looks too pretty for you to disagree. And Wanda purrs at the sight of your naked skin, biting her lips like a naughty child. “I missed you.”

You chuckle breathlessly, some confusion in your eyes. “I was with you all day.”

She shook her head, deciding now to control her tongue. If she doesn't want you questioning, she needs to stop saying things like this. So she forces a smile, shifting against your hips in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I always miss my wife, I mean. Whenever she's not touching me.”

Even though you offer her a grin, there's a blush in your cheeks that goes down your chest and Wanda suddenly doesn't feel like talking anymore.

A feeling you two seem to share as you bring a hand to her face only to pull her down at you again. It's a heated kiss. With tongue and breathy whispers that turn her into needy sounds. 

Even without the covers, it's soon too hot to keep clothes on. 

You're the one who takes her nightgown off. Pulling down as your tongues dance together, until the item no longer hides the tits you started to play it. 

Wanda's eyes are tightly closed as your mouth sucks her nipple. Your hand plays with the other while she struggles to breathe. 

Her top needs to go, but so does all the other clothing. The nightgown barely reached the floor and you're already pulling at her soaked panties, eager to feel her inside.

“Need this off you now, witchy.” The nickname makes her gasp. You haven't used it until now and it has been way too long since she heard. Since you- 

No. No thinking about this, not now.

She forces herself back to the present, an easy task when she feels every inch of her skin burning with your touch. She needs to move away to take the item off but your hands hold her tight by the waist at the mere attempt of breaking apart.

She giggles breathlessly, aware of the new wave of wetness that dripped down with the feeling of your strong hands manhandling her back at her position, keeping her restless hips still. “But you said you wanted it off.” She tries to ration, receiving only a growl in return. The next second, when your hands shift, the item is torn off her without ceremony. 

“Hey! It was my favorite.” She pouts in protest but you merely give her a husky chuckle.

“I'm sure you can fix it.” Comes as a teasing answer that Wanda couldn't contradict even if she wanted to - all previous thoughts are gone when your fingers reach her front and penetrate between her warm folds without a warning. You groan at the delirious feeling of her pussy against your fingertips while Wanda whimpers at the ceiling, trying to get used to the sudden invasion.

“Fuck, you're so tight.” Your remark with a sultry voice against her ear. Wanda's arm circles your shoulder for some support while she feels the stretch of your fingers inside her. It's been a while since last time but dear God how she missed this. Her hips move on instinct and you have to chuckle at her impatience with herself. Your free hand moves to her lower back, caressing her skin while your fingers start to press your way inside her.

“Easy darling, I got you.” You guide, too deeply for her to give you any replies other than pleas and whimpers.  The position might not be the most comfortable for you but it's amazing to her. Wanda can grind down and ride your fingers as she pleases and you can feel how close she's coming to her climax so you don't dare to stop. Your thumb moves to her clit, circling the nerve and she nearly loses it. The bedroom lights start to flash with the build of this orgasm and you stare at her in amazement only to be rewarded with her gorgeous flushed face while she grinds into your hand in nearly despair.

“Fuck you're so beautiful.” You gasp, increasing the speed. The depth. Wanda breaks in a sob, her back arching. The first one is a charm. Your name is being screamed at the ceiling while you feel her wetness dripping down your hand. Unfortunately - or fortunately - it only makes you crave her more. She's still recovering from the intensity of this climax, all sweaty and flushed when you shift your hand. You're still inside her tight walls and your fingers start to pick up a pace again. She squeaks at the overstimulation, but her protest dies in your tongue sucking hers when you kiss her again.

Wanda's almost too distracted by the filthy of this kiss to notice how quickly her second climax is building - almost. There's a bite against your bottom lip that makes you groan when she breaks the kiss, unable to keep it up. Her hands grab at you for some grounding when she feels how close she is to come, stronger than the last time. You feel her nails piercing your skin when her orgasm washes over her and it's your time to moan at her ear.

Her body goes limp for a moment after this. It was two intense orgasms in a row after all. She just needs to take a breath. 

You move your fingers out, sucking them clean and murmuring satisfied at her taste while Wanda struggles to recognize her surroundings.

When you can hold her with both hands again, you nuzzle at her cheek.

“Enjoying yourself, witchy?” You dare to tease her when she can feel how she's still leaking in your lap. Honestly, the nerve. Wanda let out a deep breath, pushing her momentarily tiredness away. 

There's an easy smile on her lips when she finds your eyes again. “I am but I've been so selfish.” She starts with a particular accentuation of her ascent that she knows you drive you insane. She also watches as your breath catches and your eyes drift to her lips, mesmerized by every word. “You must be needing me as well.”

But you tense at her nails screeching your belly, a worried frown coming at your expression.

“Wanda… my powers.” The fear in your eyes is like a cold buck of water. Oh, yes, she forgot.

For the whole day, she forgot you had no idea of the life you two shared. Nothing outside Westview and this lovely fantasy. None of the creative ways you two once used to bypass the super strength issue. Your fear and hesitation at hurting her made perfect sense but the fact that she was the only one who could remember the whole history you two shared was still painful. Her expression probably gave her away and confused you even more. “I promise you this is more than enough for me. Bringing you pleasure is enough.” You add gently, but Wanda shakes her head, leaning in to kiss you. She leaves you breathlessly before breaking apart, taking some pride in the way you're blushing.

“Don't be silly, darling, there's plenty of things for us to do together. To please one another.” You gulp at her words and tone of voice, eyes following all of her movements. From the shift of her hips to the teasing of her fingers on the way down your pants. “I wanna try something I think you'll love it. Do you trust me?”

You nod immediately, watching as Wanda's fingers play with the hem of your pants. She giggles naughty at your anticipation and brings one finger up to your chin, to make you look at her eyes again. 

“Can you use your words?”

“Y-yeah.” You swallow, trying to win some composure back. It's not easy when Wanda Maximoff is naked and sitting on your tight. But you smile anyway. “Of course I trust you, witchy.”

She smiles at you, her eyes flashing a glimmer of naughtiness that makes your heart leap. You can't worry too much about that anyway - Wanda leans in to kiss you again. And it's the dirtiest one of the night. She takes the lead, pulling back now and then just to tease your tongue with the tip of hers, reveling at the way you pant and struggle to keep your hips still. 

But suddenly, you feel the new pressure inside your pants. The odd sensation shifts your attention entirely but Wanda brings her hands to your neck and kisses you hard. You moan into her tongue, hands holding her tight by the waist until her spell is complete. She presses down into you and the kiss is broken with your needy awareness.

“F-fuck, is that…?” You open surprised and aroused eyes at her, looking down where your middles connect only to watch Wanda's equal affected state. Her trembling hands reach down at your pants, trying to pull the garment off.

“Yeah, and I really need you inside now, alright baby? Think you're ready for me?” Her words are rushed as her fingers. Your pants and underwear are stuck in an awkward position on your thighs because Wanda is too impatient to wait another second. She grabs the hardness - barely giving you time to get used to the image or more important the feeling - of that scarlet strap magically placed there - before she sinks down.

It's a form of revenge, maybe. For the way you didn't give her time to prepare before, but what a sweet revenge that was.

The nearly animalistic grunt that escaped you when Wanda's cunt squeezed around you was a sound you didn't know you could make. She, on the other hand, rewards your ears with a pleasant deep moan while she adjusts to the fullness. There's also a new stretch. The toy is obviously larger than your fingers and goes deliciously deeper so Wanda needs to take a deep breath while she welcomes you in.

To her delight, not that you can remember this, but just like the first time you two tried, it's too much of a new overwhelming pleasure for you to handle. You came almost the same second you're bottom up. Tensing and shaking at the new feeling. You gasp, hands falling at the sides to grab the sheets that are torn apart while you hide your face into her neck and your climax washes over you.

Wanda giggles in amusement. The hot shot inside her feels as good as she remembers and you haven't changed. But the toy softening causes you to panic.

“S-sorry, god, I'm so sorry. I don't-”

“Shh, it's okay.” She cuts your anxious babbling immediately, firming her legs around you and bringing her hands to hold your cheeks. “I know it feels like a real one, but it's not a real one.” She says and without any warning, grinds down at you, stealing all the air of your lungs. Wanda bites her lip before adding “See? You're hard again already.”

You can't give her words. The only thing that leaves your mouth is a whine that makes her clench around you. 

Suddenly, she's moving. Rough grinding before she's undeniably riding your strap and it's dirty and maddeningly sexy so your hands hold her hips and help her when her body starts to betray her wishes to keep going. 

“Oh, Wanda, you feel so nice.” You moan with your eyes closed, outside the shared grunts and your words, the only sounds of the room are the bed creaking and the soaked toy coming in and out of her. Your lovely wife decides to give you a reason to be louder. Her hands push you back at the bed and now you can see her in all of her glory. Her pretty tits bounce with the hard pace she takes on top of you. “W-wait. Easy, I can't hold it if you-” 

Her hands move yours - trying to slow her by the waist - away, locking your fingers together at each side of your head. Her hair makes a curtain for your faces but Wanda kisses you again. Your tongues are still moving together when you come first. 

Because you're strong - stronger than her that is - scarlet magic holds you still, wrists and ankles when Wanda can't. She holds her climax just a little longer, enough to put on a show for your breathless figure under her when you are able to look up at it. 

It's divine when it occurs - The silent scream, her frown before the blissed worn-out expression. The flags of the light, the room vibrating and her eyes bright red before the dark green meets your gaze again.

She smiles down at you, still shaking but somehow ready for another.

“Enjoying yourself aren't you, Avenger?” she repeats your words from before, but the nickname so often used for teasing makes you frown in confusion.

“What is…? But she changed that before you could finish the question. 

As quickly as it happened, the scene shifted as if the words never left her lips. You were staring at her, with uneven breathing and adoring eyes.

“Is this really necessary?” For a second, her heart leaped in fear. The possibility that you could tell she altered things. But your gaze shifted to the magic holding you still, and you offered her a pleading stare. “Won’t you let me touch you?”

Wanda sighs, adjusting your hips and seeing the way your jaw tenses at the slight movement. You're still inside her, always magically stimulated to be hard no matter how many times you come. It made sense that you might be sensitive.

She bit her bottom lip, hands resting on your chest.

“But you look so pretty like this…” She starts, leaning in as if going for a kiss. You sigh as her lips meet your cheeks instead, closing your eyes when you feel her smiling before moving down. “I like having you at my mercy.”

You hum, somewhat distracted by her soft grind against you. If you're hard again, that's not only the magic to blame but Wanda's warm pussy squeezing you still.

“But I'm like this all the time.” you joke earning a husky giggle before she puts some distance between your faces again.

You let out a deep sigh when she pulls out the next second, catching her own soft groan at the emptiness. But your words fail you when you look down and see the mixed cum leaking from her and dripping down your abs.

Cursing under your breath a single “fuck.” at the image, you are not surprised at Wanda's naughty giggle.

“You made such a mess, babe.” She teases, the toy still vibrating and it occurs to you that it doesn't just answer to your arousal, but hers as well. 

“Me? You're the one who, you know… ride it. I didn't even know I would come through it.” You tried to defend yourself with rosy cheeks but Wanda is clearly teasing you. She giggles again, adjusting herself and causing you to shut up immediately. 

“I think you should stop babbling and start cleaning your mess.”

You swallow hard when you realize she's still moving. Up towards your face. The bed makes a strong crack sound when you use all your strength to pull your hands free from her magic chains.

Wanda allows you to break free. Mainly because she loves to feel your hands holding her thighs open when you eat her out.

Some old habits never die.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff oneshots #wanda maximoff smut

[libertyybellls]

KISS IT OFF ME !

pairing; finnick odair x f!dist4!reader

summary; finnick can’t take his eyes off of you in any crowd- but he can take care of you, what’s new?

contains; FLUFF, established relationship, finnick is still pining for reader, alcohol consumption- but positively i guess, reader is anxious in the beginning, objectification by the capitol as per usual.

a/n: i hope im not misunderstood but when i put specific photos or outfits/hairs in the headers of my works that is not directly what i am picturing the reader as! its more-so the hairstyle, or the outfit- or simply the aesthetic of the picture. not the race, hair nor body type. ur all cutie pies. ok anyways onto the fic kiss kiss.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

“well would you look at that!” your stylist squeals in your ear, “from the moment you won your last games i have just been dying to design for you again and… here we are!” she ushers you to spin around.

she’d always been kind to you, perhaps less kind to your dignity- always wanting to flaunt you like a show pony- but nonetheless her support had always been there.

“it’s beautiful, thank you.” you smile small at her. so bittersweet, she was oh-so ecstatic to dress you up once more but to you- this meant less serenity to you. more agitation, more distress, more death.

it felt like a paradox, to be adorned in this sweet, innocent, baby pink before you’re sent away to a grim world once again- you’d already gone off on a tangent to finnick. you’d both sobbed solemnly about the cruelty of it all, how you would never be able to live in peace.

but finnick just wanted you both to have this one night, to indulge in the capitol before you were sent of to your deaths, obviously he would see the brighter side of thing- blabbering about plutarchs plan and how he only needs to protect you, katniss, and peeta until he can get you out of there.

sounds so very simple doesn’t it?

once you’d finished your interview you attended a party, a celebration for the third quarter quell. how ironic, what was there to celebrate?

you’d seen the food platters, the spiked drinks, and indulge you did.

your brain had been fuzzy by the time you’d escape the overbearing class of the capitol citizens, who wanted to know every detail of your life.

it was then- finnick had spotted you- so inebriated you’d genuinely laugh at something the woman next to you said.

feasibly being that she’d said something so pretentious you couldn’t help but tilt your head back in laughter. but nonetheless he admired.

he admired your dress, your smile, the way your eyes slightly disappeared when you laughed, the way your hair was laying down your back. he was simply under the spell of you.

it was then your eyes met his smitten ones, so love drunk- or possibly just drunk- that you’d excused yourself and made a beeline straight for him.

he’d encaptured you with warm arms, a leather corset-like article of clothing consumed his waist- followed by his white buttoned down that seemed to be unbuttoned.

you noticed the way his eyes consumed you- not like the others did. not like you were a piece of cake, not like you were something they had to have for the night, but someone who lit his chest alight.

“you look beautiful.” he murmurs into your hair, his hands around your waist.

“i hardly feel that way- im scared, i think.”

he shook his head, pulling you from his warm embrace much to your dismay. “don’t be. you’re with me right now.” finnicks plush lips lay atop your forehead now.

you laugh as he continues to peck your face, giggles leaving your lips.”so beautiful.”

it was only when you nearly toppled over your unnecessarily long pumps that he took not of your consumption.

“so head over heels it seems you’ve had a little to much to drink. what do you say i get you back to your room now? hm?” he straightens you back up. “run you a bath?”

you let out a muffled mm into his chest, your other hand placed on the side of his chest holding you steady. “love you s’much finn.”

it was his turn to laugh now, there was no mockery, no heinous act behind it, just you and finnick. “i know baby.”

-

#finnick angst #finnick fanfic #finnick fluff #finnick imagine #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair smut #finnick odair x reader #finnick oneshot #finnick smut #finnick #hunger games finnick #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #thg finnick #my #finnick odair x you

[m0llygunn]

Hello! Can I request oneshot with Eddie and virgin reader?

Something like when they're talking casually and she confesses that she feels so insecure about being virgin at her age (22) when everyone she knows has boyfriends/girlfriends and had first sex a long time ago. But she hasn't even kissed anyone and she doesn't know how it works.

(She has also a big crush on Eddie but she's shy about it)

How do you think Eddie would react?

It's so personal for me but if you're not comfortable with this idea it's okay ☺️

Thank you for your time!

hi! sorry for how long it took! I didn't want to write something too too similar to Eddie's Notes, so it took me a minute to think something up, hope thats okay!

also this is my first request!! thank you! I hope you like it :)

it's not too explicit but 18+ only please!

wc: 2.4k+

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“How much do you wanna bet they’ll be fucking within the hour?” Eddie whispers, leaning in close enough for you to hear him.

“Huh?” you reply, catching Eddie’s gaze. He nods back to the couple you’ve both been sparring glances at ever since you sat down.

You and Eddie stopped at the diner to get late dinner after hanging out with the group at Steve’s house. He was just going to drive you home, but he insisted he was starving and you both had to stop for food. You’re not complaining, you’ve always had quite the soft spot for Eddie and more time with him is always welcomed.

You both sat at the back of the diner on the same side of the booth as Eddie insisted it was the best spot for people watching. Sitting in the other back corner of the restaurant was some girl you hardly recognized from high school and a guy who you assumed was her date.

To you, it looked innocent. They both sat on the same side of the booth, probably doing the same thing you and Eddie were doing. Their shoulders were just barely touching and they were making quick, shy glances at one another. To you, you thought that maybe it was a first date due to their nervousness, so for Eddie to think they’ll be fucking within the hour… you couldn’t help but look at him in pure confusion. 

“His hand’s been on her thigh the whole night and she’s been slowly inching it up, see,” he explains in a low voice, motioning down to under their table. You spare another glance and just as he said, their hands are just nearing the hem of her skirt. 

“I didn’t notice,” you say quietly, refocusing your attention on your food, picking at your fries.

To you, they looked innocent. You thought their nervousness was because it was a first date. What a stupid thing to think.

“Look, look,” Eddie says excitedly, leaning further into you, laying his arm across the back of the booth. You glance over as the guy's hand fully travels under the girl’s skirt. 

“Eddie, I can't watch that,” you say, turning away out of embarrassment for yourself and the couple.

“What’s wrong? Never fooled around in public before?” he teases, his arm behind you coming forward just enough to nudge your shoulder.

“No,” you say quietly, throwing down the fry you’ve been swirling around on your plate before crossing your arms over your chest. 

“What?” he laughs and you shrug. 

No, you haven’t fooled around in public. You haven’t fooled around, full stop. Not even a kiss. Not even a hand hold. Not in public nor in private. Nothing. 

“You’re telling me you haven’t gone on a date and the guy hasn’t gotten a little handsy with you?” Eddie teases further.

You’d have to go on dates for someone to get handsy with you. You shrug again, just faintly shaking your head. You turn your face away from Eddie only to be met with the sight of the guy's hand all the way up the girl's skirt— something you really don’t want to see. You redirect your gaze forward, having nowhere else to look at this point. 

“I don’t believe you,” he laughs, hand nudging your shoulder again. You shrug again, sighing heavily. 

“Eddie. I don’t go on dates,” you say, flatly. 

“Me neither really. I guess, it’s kind of an old school thing,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. He clearly doesn’t understand what you mean. You brave a glance at Eddie. You like him. You have for a while.

“Eddie, can I tell you something really embarrassing?”

He sets his drink down, and while you go back to avoiding his gaze, you can tell he’s making every attempt to meet yours. You look at him for a split second before looking down at the table once again.

“Yeah, of course,” he says quietly. You can feel his hand grazing your shoulder, fingers just barely brushing over your skin. As nervous and embarrassed as you are to say what you’re about to say, his light, gentle contact is sort of relaxing, soothing in a way. Eddie’s always been kind, you know he won’t be mean about it, that’s just not in his nature, but it’s still something you’re insecure about. 

“I don’t go on dates, or do anything like that,” you say, nodding your head over to the couple. His eyebrows raise before he relaxes into a light laugh, like he expected you to say something different maybe. 

“Okay… not everyone’s into public stuff, it’s fine,” he smiles. His hand settles completely on your shoulder and that gives you the courage to just blurt it all out. 

“I’m a virgin, Eddie,” you say, hushing your voice. 

“Oh?” he says, in a short sort of quiet gasp. If you thought he expected you to say something else earlier, you can tell that he really didn’t expect you to say that.

“Yeah,” you hum, hoping he’ll give you some other reaction other than his blank stare.

“Oh,” he says again, his eyes shifting down to your crossed arms before back up to meet your gaze. You cower under his look, regretting saying anything. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. It’s so embarrassing.” You say, shifting in the seat, not sure if you want to get up and leave or just hope that the earth opens up and swallows you whole. Eddie’s hand on your shoulder grows more firm, keeping you still.

“No— no. I’m just... I didn’t know. Is it… like, on purpose?” he asks tentatively, keeping his tone soft.

“No,” you answer, shrinking into yourself as the burning from your cheeks turns into your whole body lighting aflame. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, leaning into you, his hand on your shoulder pulling you in closer to him at the same time. 

The couple draw both yours and Eddie’s attention as the girl giggles loudly. When you look over at them, they’re both quickly shuffling out of their booth. The guy wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a kiss before taking her hand and guiding her out of the restaurant. It makes your stomach sink because that’s exactly what you’ve never had and it’s mocking you right to your face. 

“It’s not okay, Eddie, it’s embarrassing. Like, that—” you say, motioning to the direction that the couple just left in. “That’s what normal people my age do. Everyone’s had relationships and I haven’t done anything,” you say hastily, feeling entirely too fed up with yourself for being in this situation. It’s hard to not be upset with yourself when people around you are constantly reminding you how behind you are, even without them knowing it. 

Eddie squeezes your shoulder lightly. “I think you forget who you’re talking to right now,” he laughs.

“Eddie, you’re not a virgin,” you state.

“No, but I was. For a long time. Nobody was exactly lining up to get with the satanic super senior freak,” he says, adding emphasis to the names he’s been called over the years. You know he’s just saying this stuff to make you feel better about yourself, and it makes you feel worse. He shouldn’t have to put himself down. Eddie’s the best and it’s not fair for him to do that. 

“Yeah, but you’re not a ‘satanic super senior freak’. You’re cool, you’re in a band, you’re attractive. So many people would be lucky to be with you. It's different, you’re hot and funny— and you’re not 22 years old and still a virgin,” you blurt out, squeezing your folded arms over your chest harder. You shift in your seat again, contemplating getting up, but Eddie’s hand on your shoulder pulls you in even closer to him until your shoulder meets the edge of his chest and your hip meets his.

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m not judging you, you’re fine,” he says, softly.

“But—”

“I’m serious. If that experience hasn’t happened yet, it’s no big deal.”

You deflate into yourself, feeling the embarrassment burn hot inside of you. Eddie shifts, facing you but you keep your head down, avoiding his gaze. His free hand landing on your thigh startles you, making you look up at him in surprise. You’re met with a soft smile, like he knew that would get your attention. 

“You know, you’re attractive too. Very pretty. Just because some idiot hasn’t made the moves on you yet, doesn’t mean you aren’t.”

“Don’t say stuff just to be nice,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat for an entirely different reason. 

“I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re smart, and funny, and I like being around you,” he says, leaning in even closer, close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek.

“Eddie, I haven’t even kissed someone before,” you say, turning to him abruptly. You're nearly nose to nose with him, and it makes your heart beat too fast. You pull back a few inches, looking at Eddie but his gaze stays low on your face.

“Is it a bad time for me to say I’ve been dying to kiss you?” he asks, eyes still lingering low, and you suddenly realize it’s your lips he’s focusing on.

“What?” you say, your brows pinching in confusion. 

“I want to kiss you,” he repeats with clarity, eyes meeting yours. You shake your head, surely this is a joke. 

“Stop making fun of me,” you huff, uncrossing your arms. You put your hand over Eddie’s to pry it from your thigh. He let’s go, taking your hand in his instead, making you stop dead in your tracks.

“Why do you think I brought you here? Why do you think we’re sitting in the back of the diner?” he says, raising his brows. “And it’s not just because I wanted to spy on the couple who was practically fucking back here.”

“I don’t know.” 

“Because I’ve been dying to kiss you. It’s awfully hard to get you alone, you know?” he says. He smiles at you softly, squeezing your hand in his. Your stomach flutters. You’ve thought about this moment, wanted it so badly— yet something inside of you still holds you back. 

“I don’t know how,” you say, feeling flustered. He squeezes your hand, dipping his face to meet your gaze.

“It’s easy, just come closer,” he whispers. You do as he says and he hums lowly. His hand on your shoulder moves to the back of your head, keeping you moving into him at a steady pace and he inches forward, meeting you in the middle. 

You let your eyes flutter shut, and you feel his lips on yours, light as a feather. He presses into you more firmly, and when his lips start to move, you freeze up, not knowing what to do. His hand on the back of your head moves to your neck, caressing you softly— like an encouragement. He slows down and you take the leap, following his lead. You match his pace, moving your lips like he does, copying the movements, and he hums again— like a praise this time. 

“Easy, isn’t it?” he says, just barely moving away from your lips. 

“Yeah,” you agree breathily, feeling like your whole body is tingling. 

“You’re a natural,” he says. You feel his breath against your lips and you don’t know if you want to run away or lean in for more. He doesn’t give you the chance either way before he’s tugging you closer to his chest so your head rests on his shoulder. His hand guides you to look up at him.

“I like you for you. Not the experiences you have or haven’t had,” he says, meeting your gaze. His words make your stomach explode with butterflies but your head stops you from letting yourself believe his sentiment. 

“Don’t you think it’s embarrassing though?” you ask.

“Would you think it was embarrassing if it were the other way around? Would you like me less if I were a virgin?”

“No,” you reply honestly. You would never like Eddie less for something superficial like that. The way he looks at you so softly is a testament to how good he is, you wouldn’t like him any less even if he were a virgin. 

“Things happen at different times for people. I’m sure you’ve done all kinds of things I haven’t done before… like graduating on your first try,” he says with a smirk.

“Don’t put yourself down just to make me feel better,” you say, leaning further up towards him, squinting your eyes into a glare so he knows you’re serious. 

He laughs at you, nodding his head gently before continuing.“I’m just saying, sex isn’t the end all be all of who you are. Not to sound preachy, but it’s only embarrassing if you let it embarrass you— and it shouldn’t. At all. Ever,” he emphasizes, rubbing his hand against your side. His lips quirk up into a smirk—one you’re familiar with and know that it typically means he’s up to no good. “And if you ever want to not be a virgin, I’m right here,” he says, digging his fingers into your ribs, making you laugh. 

It was a joke— him being there if you ever wanted to not be a virgin, but then it was the truth. When Eddie drove you home, he helped you brush up on your kissing skills. Right before you went inside for the night, he asked you on a date. 

While it didn’t happen that night or even that week, it did happen eventually. And when it did, Eddie was slow with you. He was patient with you, and made sure you were comfortable the whole time. You’ve always heard the romanticized versions of people losing their virginity, and how it was so perfect, and this or that, but with Eddie, it really was. He was someone you cared for and trusted and that’s what made it perfect. 

He quelled all your negative thoughts. He made sure you knew that your sex life didn’t dictate who you were. What experiences you had or didn’t have doesn’t make you or break you.

He took you on a date, he kissed you, held your hand, held you. He took you on more dates, called you his, did all the things you dreamt about— the things you were worried you would never get. 

Everything you hadn’t done, you did with Eddie. For a long time you thought you were missing out. In some ways, maybe you were, but if you had to choose, you’d do it all over again exactly the same, as long as you’d get to do it all over again with Eddie. 

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thank you again!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson x virgin!reader

[flynnriderishot]

fluff/ angst of the reader and matt getting into an argument over her talking to another guy or looking at his phone and then he realises it was never that deep and tries to talk to the reader but she’s stubborn then she finally gives in 😀😀😀

crazy accusations - m.s

you sat on yours and matt’s shared bed with a frown on your face.

your boyfriend was ignoring you and after texting back and forth with nick, despite him being in the other room, you came to realize that he was acting jealous over nothing.

apparently matt noticed you were messaging back and forth with a guy friend — a friend that matt had only met once in person and after minimal observation, you could easily tell the boy was gay.

you weren’t sure if it was because of the stress he had recently taken on with their channel or what, but he didn’t bother to let you explain yourself (after nearly shouting his own head off) before he mumbled something about sleeping in chris’ room and you haven’t seen him in almost an hour.

nicolas 🤓

he’s just stressed. don’t worry about it

what we should be worried about is you setting me up with my future man

what’d he say?

you chuckled as you read the message, though before you could respond, the man of the hour walked in.

“you still talking to your boyfriend?”

“are you done being mean to me for no reason?”

matt scoffed, sassily rolling his eyes before kneeling down by the bed to grab his phone charger, “excuse me for thinking you were cheating on me after being secretive all day.”

“i wasn’t being secretive. in fact, before ran off of like a child, i was going to explain to you that i was texting the guy that nick likes.”

his shoulders fell.

he should’ve known that from the excessive giggling he was doing on the phone call with madi when he passed his room.

“nice to know that you’d think i cheat on you.”

matt sighed softly, placing his charger down on the bed before moving closer to you, “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

you refrained from pulling away when he took your hands into his slightly bigger ones,

“i shouldn’t have accused you of something like that, i know you would never cheat on me. i’ve just been feeling a little stressed out lately and i took it out on you and our relationship and i shouldn’t have done that.”

you hummed softly, “i’m glad you’re realizing your mistakes because calling me a cheater is a crazy accusation.”

“i realized it when i walked in chris’ room and he went off on me for yelling at you.” he admitted, “i just wasn’t sure how mad you were so i waited to come in here.”

“and then when you came in here, you asked me if i was ‘talking to my boyfriend’.”

“i was being petty.”

“you were.”

his eyes darted between yours, almost as if he was trying to read you, “i’m sorry, baby.”

you knew he didn’t mean it when he accused you of cheating on him. you could see the immediate regret that flashed across his face once you scoffed at the statement.

“i guess it’s okay.”

“you guess?” he watched as a smile slowly started to take over your features.

“don’t disrespect me like that again.” you pointed a finger at him. and despite the smile on your face, matt could tell your words were serious.

he knew very well that he would heed your warnings and talk to you the next time he was feeling agitated.

just as he pulled you into a hug, nick’s voice called from outside the room,

“yn, what the fuck did he say?!”

taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson @stinkytwinkwinky @mstarniolo

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Taking care of Coryo afte the bombing. He's being stubborn and doesn't want to rest and maybe says something hurtful to reader?

I started over three times...I hope you like it

Warnings: mention on bombing and deaths

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You were sitting by his side when Coriolanus’ eyes slowly opened, stirring from his deep sleep. He shifted in the bed and made a sound of discomfort, his shoulder throbbing. 

‘’Easy, you’re gonna hurt yourself,’’ you said, helping him off his stomach and into a more comfortable position. 

The scene had been horrifying to watch on the screen of the academy. No one knew exactly what had happened as the area wasn’t a very secured place. The screen had turned black after catching some of the explosions, leaving everyone in the auditorium worried for their fellow classmates — and tributes.

You brushed a hand through his hair, looking down at him. ‘’How are you feeling?’’ 

Coryo’s eyes met your concerned gaze. ‘’Lucy Gray, is she..?’’ he asked, a fog enveloping his mind. 

‘’She is okay,’’ you reassured him. ‘’They took all the remaining tributes back at the Capitol zoo.’’ 

‘’I’m guessing they’re still going with the games.’’ 

You nodded. ‘’Do you remember what happened in the arena?’’ 

Coriolanus winced, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. ‘’It’s all a blur,’’ he admitted, his brow furrowing. ‘’Explosions, fire and…people were running and more bombs going off. Lucy Gray and I got knocked down when the first bomb exploded. I tried to get back up, but a piece of the arena’s structure fell on me. She came back for me.’’

You gave a sympathetic smile, continuing to run your fingers through his disheveled hair. You had been so worried when Tigris told you a piece of the structure had fallen on her cousin during the bombing. ‘’They were old bombs some rebels must have placed between the end of the last games and now. The area is not well secure, so they could have gotten in at night.’’

Tigris returned shortly with Sejanus behind her. He was bringing information on the tributes and mentors' conditions. Coriolanus nodded as his friend spoke, absorbing the information while you held his hand, stroking the back with your thumb. Four tributes and two mentors had died. 

‘’Wherever Marcus is right now, he has more chances at survival than in the arena,’’ Sejanus said, still cursing his father for buying his old friend as tribute. It was sick. 

Coriolanus sighed, the weight of the games and the Plinth prize still on his shoulders.  

‘’You should rest,’’ you said to Coryo after Sejanus left. 

‘’I don’t have time to rest. The games are tomorrow. I need to think of a strategy so I can make my tribute win—’’ He tried to sit up, his face twisting with pain. ‘’Fuck.’’ 

‘’You don’t care about the girl! I know you’re doing this for the Plinth prize, but no amount of money is worth risking your health for. You need to rest, Coryo.’’ 

A bitter retort escaped his lips. ‘’Says the one who’s family is bathing in money.’’ He stood, seeking support from the wall as his head began to spin from the concussion. ‘’If I don’t win this money, everyone will know about the Snow family’s downfall. There was an eviction notice on our door last week. Tigris tried to hide it from me, but I saw it. We can barely afford food, how are we gonna pay rent? I need to go to university. I have to support my family. Without the Plinth prize, none of this can happen.’’ 

His state of panic made his head hurt from the heavy thinking. Coriolanus groaned, the pain intensifying, and released the wall to cradle his head in his hands, causing him to lose balance.  Instinctively, you moved swiftly, grabbing him before he could fall, and guided him back on the bed. 

‘’I may not know what it’s like to struggle financially, but don't hold it against me for being born into my family,’’ you said, not allowing him to make you feel bad for your social class. He couldn’t take his frustrations out on you. ‘’I don’t prance around my family’s money like our classmates do, or look down on the less fortunate. If you want to secure this prize, you need to lie back and rest. You can’t make your tribute win if you can’t even stand on your feet.’’ 

One thing you had learned these past years was that Coriolanus was the most stubborn person you knew. His determination could never be underestimated, a trait that often bordered on obstinacy. It was a crucial part of what made him who he was. Fortunately, you were one of the only people who knew how to reason with him and talk him down when he was being unreasonable. It wasn't always an easy feat, considering his unyielding nature, but you had honed the skill of navigating through his stubbornness.

He let out a sigh of defeat, knowing you were right. ‘’What am I gonna do?’’ Fear and desperation laced his voice, pulling at your heartstrings. 

You sat beside him and gently placed your hands on his face. ‘’We’ll figure something out,’’ you promised, letting him know he wasn’t alone. ‘’For now, you’re gonna lie back in bed while I find you something to eat. I can hear your stomach screaming.’’

Coryo managed a faint smile, appreciating your concern. ‘’It’s not that loud...’’ 

You gave him a look as his stomach betrayed him with a loud noise. ‘’I’ll be right back.’’

—

Hunger games / BOASAS taglist: @crossyourmindrights @ziggyneedsabreak @folkloreshorts @runningfrom2am @soulessien @itzfckingreal @creedsofapollo @heart-helmet  @javden @definitelykyles @pumkinnroses @pepperonipastas  @arzua10 @upwritingallnight @cruzgrecia @evelestrange

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802  @CZARINERA @katherinejess

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

[sophsbookstore]

The Perfect Day

Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader pt. 2 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Read pt. 1 here

A/N: In honor of Charles Leclerc winning the freakin Monaco Grand Prix!! 

Word count: 2,453

“Looks like you have no one on schedule.” The front desk lady says to Y/N.

Y/N looks up from her phone, constantly refreshing her calendar, checking to make sure what she’s hearing is correct. There has to be some mistake? Just yesterday she was completely booked for the day.

“I think everyone canceled for the grand prix, I mean who would want to miss it, Charles is starting on pole!” The lady raved. All of Monaco was rooting for Charles, there was something in the air, everyone knew that Charles was going to win the Grand Prix, he had to.

“So I guess I'm off for the day?” Y/N looks at the lady puzzled, regretting her rejection of Charles' invitation to the Grand Prix.

Y/N waves goodbye to the other employees packing their things, the girl goes back to her car, sitting in science before calling Charles’ mom. She picks up within the first couple of rings. Y/N asks for Charles, his mom calling to Charles on the other line, passing her phone to her son.

“Sorry for telling you on such short notice but my schedule is cleared if there's still an available spot to see you race today.” Y/N starts fiddling with her hands, although Charles can't see, she hopes he doesn't pick up on the pleas in her voice.

“For you? There is always room.” With that Y/N gets an address sent to her and digital tickets to let her in. “I'll meet you at the entrance so I can give you your pass.” Y/N nods rapidly, thanking Charles for his generosity. Telling her that it was no problem at all, Charles bids her farewell, promising to see her later at the Grand Prix. Y/N rushes home, knowing she doesn't have long until the event starts.

She rummages through her closest, trying to find an outfit she deems perfect for the occasion. Finally landing on an outfit that satisfies her she looks at the clock, noticing that it's about time she leaves. She locks the door to her apartment behind her, shaking her hands with anxiety, reminding herself that she's there to support Charles.

When she finally gets to the Grand Prix she notices a group of people huddled near the entrance. She follows security, parking her car, dusting herself off, rolling her shoulders back, and walking closer to the commotion. 

As Y/N steps closer she finally sees what's at the center of the huddle, Charles. She waves her hand up in the air, hoping he catches her signal to him. Luckily he does. Quickly he makes his way over to her, pushing through the interviewers and paparazzi, with the green paddock pass in his hand.

“I'm so happy you came.” He says, pulling her in for a hug, kissing her cheek as he does so.

“I'm so happy you still let me come.” The pair laugh, pulling away from the embrace.

Charles wraps his arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her close to him as the two enter the paddock. Charles lets go of Y/N for a moment, stepping in front of her and placing the pass around her neck as they reconnect with one another officially entering the grounds.

Y/N can feel everyone staring at her, anxiety starts to bubble in her chest, wondering if she was being stared at in disgust or curiosity. “Don't worry about them.” Charles turns whispering in her ear.

“It's hard, they keep staring at me like I'm some kind of animal at the zoo.”

“Y/N they are most likely looking at how pretty you are, I mean I can't help but stare too.” He smirks, Y/N playfully removing her hand around him to give him a little smack on the arm, quickly moving it back around him.

The pair make their way to the Ferrari hospitality, Charles introduces Y/N to the various staff scattered around before making his way over to his brother Arthur. Y/N has met Arthur before, giving him ‘hellos’ here and there when he comes in to get his haircut by his mom.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?” The younger driver asked in excitement.

“She's my plus one.” Charles smiles at his brother, Y/N blushing, nodding in agreement.

Before the three could say any more to each other someone taps Chalres shoulder, his engineer signaling to him that it's time for him to leave. Charles frowns, nodding understanding he gives his brother a hug, the younger of the two hyping up his older brother.

Charles goes back to Y/N giving her a long embrace before kissing the side of her head. “You're going to win today, I just know it.” Y/N whispers to Charles moments before he leaves.

“I really hope you're right.” He gives her one last glance before following his engineer toward the car.

Y/N and Arthur mingle around the paddock, Arthur introducing Y/N to almost everyone that he knows. “Is that my nephew?” Arthur yells out, moving quickly towards a man that Y/N has never seen before.

“Y/N, this is my adopted nephew Oscar.” Oscar walks over to the both of them, shaking Y/N’s hand. 

“Ahh, so you must be Charles’ new son. Congratulations on P2, I wish you luck on your race today.” Y/N gives him a warm smile, the driver smiling back.

“Thank you.” Moments later Oscar is also pulled away, saying goodbye to the two as he makes his way towards his Mclaren.

Arthur motions for Y/N to follow him, together they make their way over to their designated area, Arthur slipping some headphones onto Y/N’s head as the two settle in, anxiously watching the screen in front of them as Monaco settles in silence, manifesting Charles' win.

Needless to say the race was stressful, with the red flag barely into the first lap Y/N worried that someone would overtake Charles, wanting to scream to the other drivers not to pass Charles on such a special and important day.

Arthur and Y/N hold onto one another during every touch, maneuver, and tire change, wishing the best for Ferrari, but most importantly Charles. As the lap starts coming to an end Y/N and Arthur look at one another, is this it? Is Charles going to win his home race and finally break the Monaco curse?

As Charles pulls closer to the finish line everyone from Ferrari runs closer to the barriers, screaming for Charles as he crosses the line. Tears hit Y/N's eyes, the girl cheering as loud as she can. He has done it, Charles Leclerc wins the 2024 Monaco Grand prix.

Charles practically jumps out of his car, tears trickling out of his eyes as he cheers atop his Ferrari. Jumping down before running and leaping towards his team. As if the cries of joy couldn't be any louder they did. At that moment it seemed that all of Monaco was cheering for him. 

Charles moves throughout the crowd hugging the people who helped him most to get this victory, finally making his way to Arthur and Y/N. Y/N steps to the side, letting the brothers have their moment first, hugging one another before the driver turns to Y/N.

The two melt in their embrace, Y/N crying tears of joy for Charles. “You did it!” She pulls back, her arms still tightly around Charles' big frame. “I knew you would.” 

Charles continues to hold her. “Meet me after the race, I still have dinner with you tonight. '' Y/N nods rapidly. Charles finally stepped away to go with his rest of the team to the doc, getting ready to do their celebratory jump into the water.

Arthur and Y/N follow behind the large group, Y/N taking out her phone to snap a few pictures in celebration. One by one the big group starts to taper off, either going off to celebrate or do interviews, Arthur says goodbye to Y/N leaving the girl to wait for Charles.

After countless interviews the driver finally returns to Y/N, now fully dried he gives her a hug. “Thank you for waiting.”

“No worries! Congratulations on your race, seriously.” She smiles up at him. “You don't have to go to dinner with me, I know you would much rather be partying with everyone.”

“Nonsense, the parties will go on later in the night. Right now, I want to be with you.” He holds out his hand, Y/N gladly takes it, the pair walking towards Ferrari hospitality so Charles can change into less damp, non-Ferrari clothes.

Y/N waits outside for Charles to change, once ready the pair walk toward the parking lot. “The restaurant is fairly close if you want to walk?” He offers. Y/N looks over at her car, then back at Charles. “Sure!”

Together the pair walk out of the circuit, now entering the streets of Monte Carlo. They continue to talk with one another, getting interrupted every few meters by fans noticing Charles, everyone giving him high praise for his victory.

“Maybe we should have driven.” Charles jokes, the pair walking faster trying to get rid of the crowd following them, getting larger by the minute.

“Next time we will for sure.” Y/N nods in agreement.

“Next time? Already planning a second date before the first?” Charles smiles, the tips of his ears getting hot.

Y/N blushes in embarrassment. “Oh! I- ummm.” She stutters, getting caught off guard by Charles' question.

“I'd be more than happy to go on another date with you Y/N.” He smiles, the pair silently brushing their fingers together, slowly intertwining their hands as they continue down the busy Monte Carlo street.

Finally making it to the restaurant the staff immediately identify Charles, moving rapidly getting Charles and Y/N a room in the back. Patrons and staff of the restaurant give Charles loud cheers and high praise the further they walk into the restaurant.

Charles steps in front of Y/N pulling the girl's chair out for her to sit, thanking him she does so, Charles scooting her chair forward before taking his rightful seat across from her. The two open up their menus, engaging in slight conversation before both put their menus down, leaning forward, getting closer to one another.

“Thank you for coming to the race, and to dinner with me after.” Charles smiles, blushing ever so slightly.

“Thank you for the invite! Surprisingly, I'm glad that everyone canceled their appointments, if they hadn't I wouldn't have gotten to see you win.”

“I don't know how to feel, I'm just so excited and happy. I wish that my father would have been here to see it. We both dreamed of me winning my home race.” He looks down at the menu, quickly wiping his eyes.

“He is, he might not be physically here but he is always with you. I can say with 100% certainty that wherever he might be, he is jumping up and down cheering the hardest for you.” Charles looks up at Y/N, his eyes glossy.

“Thank you Y/N, truly.”

Before the pair can say any more, the waiter comes to the table. Both Charles and Y/N put in their orders continuing the conversation once he leaves. Charles asks Y/N about her life, wanting to get to know her more as the pair had only met days prior.

“I should really give you my number, especially since we are going on a second date. It would be weird if you kept calling my mom and asking for me.” Charles laughs, pulling his phone from his back pocket.

“Yeah…sorry about that.” Y/N looks away.

“Don't worry at all, it was my mistake for not asking for your number when we first met.” Charles hands his phone to Y/N the girl typing in her information before texting herself on his phone.

Their food soon arrives, the conversation not dying down one bit. The couple talked, not once did an awkward silence fall upon them. As the sun began to set the waiter came back with the bill. Y/N starts to reach for it, but Charles is too quick.

“Please let me, the date was my idea.”

“Charles, you literally won the Monaco Grand Prix, it's the least I could do.”

“You showing up, and coming with me tonight is everything I wanted. You can get the next one if you really want to.” He hands his card to the waiter, who soon comes back with Charles' card and the receipt.

Charles and Y/N both get up, interlocking hands once more before leaving the restaurant, Charles thanking the wait staff as they leave. “Let me walk you back to your car. I don't want you walking alone.”

The two walk in silence, taking in the warm summer air, gazing at the beautiful monte carlo sights. Charles notices Y/N’s face contorting in discomfort. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, my shoes are kinda hurting, but we’re almost there.” She shrugs.

Charles stops, Y/N following his lead the pair stand on the near empty Monte Carlo sidewalk. “Here let me.” Charles bends down, putting his knee up signaling Y/N to rest her foot on top. She does so, Charles taking off her shoes for her before getting back up off the floor, shoes in hand.

“Get on.” Charles turns around, squatting down for Y/N to get on his back. Once again she does so, quickly hopping onto his back as the pair continue to venture further into the night.

They finally get back to the parking lot, Y/N unlocks her car as Charles, ever the gentleman holds her door open for him. Y/N hops off of Charles back, staring ahead at her car, looking back at Charles who's looking back at her.

“Can I kiss you?” She asks, nervous for his response. 

Charles lets go of the door handle. “I thought you'd never ask.” He takes the sides of her face in his hands, the two engaging in a passionate kiss. Y/N wraps her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. After a moment the pair pull back, still holding each other close.

“What a perfect way to finish the night.” Y/N smiles, pulling Charles in for another kiss.

“I couldn't have said it better myself.”

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #formula 1 #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader #monaco gp 2024 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

[plomegranate]

i love palestinian and arab culture so much.

my grandma wearing thobes around the house and making us tamriyeh. my cousins wedding when we all wore thobes and keffiyehs and took photos downtown and we danced with someone playing the guitar on the street and this lady stopping us to tell us we all looked so beautiful. walking the graduation stage in a thobe. the girl who liked to guess arab peoples ethnicities telling me "you're wearing tatreez... do you want me to write 'palestinian' on your forehead?" the keffiyeh my brother keeps on the drivers seat of his car.

my dad sending me off to my last semester of college with 2 pomegranates and a jar of palestinian olive oil. my cousins wife coming up with new ways to make zaatar and cheese pastries. me and my grandma sitting on the floor and making waraq 3neb- my job was to separate the leaves so she could roll them easier. my mom sending me and my brother to school with eid cookies for my teachers and tasking us with delivering some to the neighbors. my aunt glaring at me and piling more food on my plate and then asking if i was still hungry (i wasnt). my mom always telling me to invite my friends and cousins over for dinner and asking me what they like to eat. my family getting my dad knafeh instead of cake for his birthday. the man who told me i made the "best fetteh in the western hemisphere".

the man in the shawarma shop who gave me my fries for free and baklava i didnt order because we spoke about being palestinian while he took my order. the person on tumblr who i bonded with because we are from the same palestinian city. the girl i met on campus who exclaimed "youre palestinian? me too!" because i was wearing my keffiyeh. the girl in my class that showed me the artwork about palestine her dad made and donated for fundraising. the couple in the grocery store who noticed my palestinian shirt and talked with me for 20 minutes and ended up being a family friend. the silly palestinian kids i tutored sighing in disappointment when i told them i was born in america because they were hoping that id have been born "somewhere cooler". my friends family who bought me dinner despite me being there by chance and having met me for the first time the day before.

the boys starting uncoordinated dabke lines in my high school's hallways. the songs about the longing and love for our land. the festivals and parties and gatherings where everything smells like shisha and oud. memories of waiting in the car for an hour as my parents talked at the doorway of their friends homes. my cousins and i showing up at each others homes with cake or fruit or games as if it was the first time we ever visited even though we always say "you dont have to".

kids stubbornly helping to clean and make tea after a meal while being told to go sit down because they are guests. the necklaces in the shape of our home countries. people hugging and laughing and acting as if theyve known each other for years because they come from the same city or know people with the same last name. the day i finally got to bully my friends into letting me pay the bill because i had a job and they were still students. my moms friend who calls us every time she's at the grocery store to see if we need something

palestinian people are so resilient and hardworking and charitable. they love their culture and their community and are so quick to share and welcome anyone in. everyday i am so thankful and proud to be part of such a warm and lovely culture

#my love letter to palestine and its culture #free palestine #for those who dont know: #thobe: traditional embroidered dress. theres a lot of meaning behind the designs and different styles are indicative of the region #tatreez: the embroidery style #waraq 3neb: stuffed grapeleaves #dabke: traditional dance. look up videos theyre quite fun #shisha: the stuff smoked in hookah #oud: popular perfume/cologne scent #tamriyeh: fried dough dessert #keffiyeh: traditional scarf #zaatar: spice mix of mostly thyme #fetteh: dish made with bread yogurt chickpeas and nuts #knafeh: dessert made of cheese and shredded filo dough #there is so much more i can add. i really could go on forever #mine #plomegrantalk

[lewisvinga]

west coast | lewis hamilton x fem! reader

summary; y/n leaves lewis due to the feeling of being held back from consistently traveling to his races, only to realize how much she missed him.

warnings; mentions of drinking

notes; he’s so sexy , i know my goat is gonna look sexy asf in that ferrari red

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

word count; 1.3k

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

f1 masterlist !

“I’m sorry, Lewis. It’s for the best and you know this.” Y/n wipes away the tears falling down her cheeks as she holds on tightly to her suitcase filled with her closeness.

Lewis lets out a disappointed sigh, nodding his head in agreement. He knew that she had to finish her degree which meant everything to her. But finishing her degree meant she couldn’t follow him around the world anymore. It meant that they needed to have a break.

“I know, it’s just…”

“Hard being away from each other.”

“Yeah.” He responds with a deep chuckle. “Honestly, I got this feeling like it all probably would’ve happened later if we waited more. Probably would’ve been worse.”

Y/n slowly nods her head in agreement, not trusting her voice to respond for her. She leans down to gently pet the top of Roscoe’s head. The dog seemed to know what was going on since he refused to leave her side.

She gives the dog one last pat on the head before standing back up, giving Lewis a sad smile. “I guess, it’s time for me to go. See you around then?”

“Yeah, see you ‘round.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“This isn’t your usual club.” Y/n mumbles as her best friend drags her into what she thought was a normal club. Y/b/f laughs, hooking her arm with the confused girl.

“It’s an exclusive club! Celebrities and big names only. And it’s L.A., there’s gonna be many people here.” Y/b/f explains with a smile. Due to being a well-known influencer, she was let in along with Y/n who had a known name due to a previous relationship.

“Now, drinks?”

“Y/b/f, I have to study for an exam all day tomorrow. No can do.”

“If you’re not drinkin’, then you’re not playin’!” Y/b/f exclaims over the loud music as they make their way to the bar. “C’mon, I know you’ve got the music in you. Don’t you?” She adds with a smile.

Y/n let out a sigh before a smile crept up on her lips. “Just one drink, Y/n. Just one.” She knew that it wouldn’t be just one. She knew that she’d wake up with a hangover but it was Los Angeles, she couldn’t miss the chance to party in Los Angeles.

“Perfect!”

2 hours later, Y/n was already drunk and returning from the bathroom. She was stumbling out of the bathroom and was suddenly met with a familiar scent. She sobered a bit when she glanced up and saw those big brown eyes that she once and still adored.

She could feel herself heating up from seeing him a couple of months after breaking up with him. Her skin was basically hot to the touch. “Lew-Lewis.” She says with wide eyes, still tipsy.

“Y/n…” Lewis says in a soft tone. He was quickly as shocked, as seen by the way his eyebrows were raised up high. “H-How have you been?”

“Uhm, great!” She quickly says, standing up straight and fixing her short dress. “Was able to take enough classes this semester to graduate. Actually- you didn’t ask that. Ignore that. I- How about you?” The alcohol in her system made her rant a bit but it made him let out his signature laugh.

“I’ve been great too actually.” He replies with a smile, nodding his head. She noticed how his hair was styled differently. He opted for dark brown braids as opposed to the honey brown, a color she suggested a couple weeks before splitting.

“Your hair…” Y/n trails off, “It looks really nice.”

“Thank you. I mean, you suggested it so I decided to try it out.”

She smiles and nods before a silence falls over them. They both wanted to say something else but couldn’t figure out what to say. Although she was just months away from graduating, her heart still longed for him. And even if girls were constantly throwing themselves at him, he only wanted her.

“Y/n, I miss you.”

Panic fills her mind as she hears the words she has been wanting to hear. She wants to say that she missed him so much but something keeps her really quiet. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s still tipsy and wants to get drunk like she’s a lush. But in a panic, she blurts out, “Gotta go! Y/b/f is calling me!”

She turns around and runs back to where her best friend is sitting in a panic and with wide eyes. She sat down next to her and covered her face with her hands. Y/b/f was talking to an athlete when she noticed her friend's panicked look.

“What's wrong?” She immediately asked, focusing more on her best friend than the guy beside her.

“Lewis is here,” Y/n says with a sigh, grabbing Y/b/f’s drink and taking a long sip. “I need a drink, come with me.” She added, standing back up and grabbing her friend's arm, dragging her to the bar.

Another hour had passed and the club was getting hot. A little too hot for Y/n’s liking. She could feel her blown-out hair starting to frizz up, her mascara was slightly smudged in the corner of her eyes, and she felt hotter than fire. She needed to go outside.

Fortunately, she noticed a balcony outside before entering the club. So, she followed a set of stairs by the bathroom which led right to the grand balcony. There were a few people there, some with drinks and some with parliaments on fire in hand.

Before she could open the door, her eyes landed on once again, a familiar set of crinkled brown eyes and a wide smile. Her once sweet boy swayed along to the music. Maybe it was the fact she had more alcohol in her system, but she wanted to go up to him.

Y/n takes a deep breath and opens the door leading to the balcony. She didn’t realize how hard she had opened it until she saw him look right at her. The person he was talking to backed away, immediately recognizing her.

She slowly walks over to him, her heels clicking along. “Lewis.” She quietly says once she stood in front of him. He stood up straighter as his eyes furrowed up in confusion.

“Y/n-“

“I miss you too.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I mean, yeah, but you made me panic when you said that,” Y/n sighs, fiddling with the gold rings on her finger. “And now I’ve had a lot more to drink and it gave me the courage to and I know it’s stupid. Missing you when I was the one to end things for my studies, which have been going well anyway. I’m about to graduate and I still miss you, Lewis. I thought that my desire was to settle down to finish my degree but it wasn’t. It’s you I desire.”

Silence fell over them for a minute. She immediately began to regret everything she said. The regret caused her to sober up again. She opened her mouth to apologize but before she could, Lewis pulled her closer by her waist and kissed her plump lips.

Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck as she pulled him closer, finally getting what she wanted, what they both wanted. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against hers and keeps his hands on her waist.

“Come back to me, love.”

“Lewis, I’ll go running back to you any day.”

Lewis lets out a breathy chuckle before leaning back a bit. He wore a smile so wide that he couldn’t even bother trying to contain it. “How about we get out of here?”

Y/n’s smile matched his as she nodded in response. “I like that.” She whispers, grasping his hand. Looks like down on the West Coast, things will actually turn out alright.

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton scenarios

[heesdreamer]

SUNSHINE

PAIRING ➩ basketball player heeseung x cheerleader reader

WARNINGS ➩ um its super rough smut lol

WC ➩ 5k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ i hate both short works and straight smut but i guess that vlog got to me so here you go NOT PROOFREAD also i don’t like writing the boys completely out of character and i do not think hs would say or do half of these things lol but for the sake of the story

“You might just be the least positive cheerleader of all time.”

You were turning your head to the side to glare at the voice suddenly appearing from your left, sighing and rolling your eyes when you spotted who it was and going back to your position with your arms crossed on the side of the court as the game continued on.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be all smiley and ‘go team’?” Heeseung was continuing on even though you were clearly ignoring him, something you did every time he attempted to bug you during the games and rile you up enough to get a reaction.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the court and not sat next to me on the bench?” You were snapping back at him and you quickly glanced at him before looking away when you saw the familiar smirk creeping up on his face.

Heeseung was definitely not a bench warmer, far from it considering he was practically the star of your schools basketball team and he knew you were aware of this. That still didn’t stop him from occasionally allowing the coach to switch him out so he could come and sit near the cheerleaders, seemingly finding a lot of mid game entertainment in you and your cold reactions.

You’d gone to school with him for most of your life but you never really noticed him until high school started and you joined the cheerleading team under the pressuring words of your mom.

She’d been one when she was your age and she claimed it to be the sole reason she loved high school, the place where she met all of her friends and eventually your father when he transferred their junior year. You’d pretty much expected to be forced into it since you were a child and now on your fourth and final year, you were more so just going through the motions.

Your stoic, and borderline aggressive, personality mixed with the image of you in a small glittery skirt and your hair sporting a giant obnoxious bow in your schools representative colors, seemed to catch the attention of the star player and he hadn’t left you alone since.

“When would I get to talk to you if I wasn’t on the bench?” He was leaning sideways towards you and you frowned softly, trying to ignore him and the stupid smirk sticking to his face now. “It’s not like you stop for me in the hallways.”

“Have you tried taking a hint?” You were once again harshly spitting the words at him and you felt a bit frustrated with yourself for not being able to keep your composure like normal, already stressed from an intense workload and the building pressure of graduation as it approached. “Why can’t you go bother your fan club, I’m sure they’d be more than willing.”

Heeseung definitely didn’t have the same concerns as you and you didn’t necessarily blame him. It isn’t his fault he was immediately offered full ride sport scholarships to multiple different schools and as much as you hated to admit it, he worked hard for his success and he deserved it.

That fact still didn’t make it any less annoying that he was constantly bugging you with his quick comments about your attitude or his countless attempts to flirt with you, asking for your number or sending you Valentine’s Day singing grams every year since you’d met, even though you’d stormed into the cafeteria freshman year and dumped his soda on his head for humiliating you.

He hadn’t gotten upset and started to dislike you like you had hoped for, instead he smiled and moved his wet hair out of his face before asking if you liked the flowers he’d left at your locker.

“Why would I do that? You know you’re my favorite, sunshine.” His tone was lower now and the nickname fell from his lips casually, routine by now considering how much he said it despite the fact you told him to knock it off every single time he used it.

You were sparing him once last glare before turning back towards the game and ignoring the fact he was a lot closer to you now, one small sideways scoot away from being off the bench and on the same bleacher seat you were on.

He was persistent to a point that you could almost admire and you’d never be foolish enough to deny that he was almost stupidly attractive but that didn’t change anything for you. You had too many differences for you to be truly interested and it didn’t help that he smelt like sweat almost every single time you saw him.

Plus, you weren’t lying about his fan club and you already had to deal with numerous sharp glares and mean whispers throughout the years and that was without you reciprocating the interest.

You’d long associated the boy with negative things so it was pretty common for you to greet his smiley face with an eye roll or a straight up sneer, trying your hardest to ignore him but typically falling into a small session of half bickering half flirting before he was giving up again and leaving you to sit and seethe. You couldn’t even escape him at home either, something you were especially aware of right now.

It was two hours into trying to get some homework done and your patience was wearing thin the longer the sound of the basketball outside continued on.

You just so happened to be in the universes shit list and you lived directly across from a park in the neighborhood. You’d been excited when you first moved in, being able to play constantly when you were younger and eventually developing it into a nice place to sit and relax after school. You would have solo picnics under one of the big trees or just go and listen to music laying in the grass.

That is until Lee Heeseung also moved into the neighborhood, starting off your sophomore year with a big obnoxious moving truck on the other side of the park and what followed nearly drove you insane.

He was outside nearly every single day after school and practice, no matter if it was cold or hot, rain or snow. What once had been a calming spot for you to unwind was quickly overtaken by the sound of rubber against cement and you stopped going the day he started.

Sometimes he’d wave at you from the court, catching sight of you glaring down at him from your open bedroom window, but he never made any attempts to talk to you or invite you to join him unlike he did in school and neither of you ever mentioned the fact you were neighbors during your little moments of heated conversation. You learned to ignore him over time but you were particularly stressed recently and before you knew it you were letting out an annoyed yell before marching out of your room.

You’d barely processed the fact you were moving as you tugged a hoodie over your head and slipped on your boots, heading out the door and slamming it as you passed through.

Some of your fire had disappeared by the time you were actually pushing out into the cold night air and crossing the empty street, your steps becoming more hesitant as you entered the park and approached the basketball court, realizing you were going to have to actually speak to him. He didn’t look over as you got closer and your frown appeared again at the sweat gleaming from his skin, his neck red and agitated like he was pushing himself past his limit.

“Do you ever go home?” You were asking before you had decided it was a good idea and you were almost as surprised as he was to hear your voice, jumping slightly at the same time he did as he whipped around to look at you.

He looked confused for a second when he saw you standing there on the court with your hands stuffed in your pockets but when he seemingly processed it was you, he was breaking into a small smile.

You watched him as he continued to pant and try and catch his breath to be able to respond to you, sighing in the meantime and taking a few step backwards so you could sit on one of the benches and stare up at him in the middle of the court.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without your pretty little skirt, sunshine.” His response was eventually coming and it immediately pulled an eye roll from you despite the fact your stomach flipped as he took a few steps in your direction, tucking his basketball under his arm routinely and watching you with amusement and interest.

“Yeah well…” You couldn’t think of a good comeback as he continued to get closer and you inwardly blamed it on the cold.

“Did you come to cheer me on?” He was asking in a soft voice but it had a mocking hint to it, not necessarily mean but potentially bitter and you stared up at him as his eyebrow cocked. “My own personal cheerleader?”

You were trying to get a good read on his expression but it wasn’t making any sense to you, his face lacking it’s usual lightheartedness and almost looking conflicted as he watched you and seemingly waited for you to finally think of a witty response. You didn’t have one, thrown off by both his strange demeanor and having a conversation in an unfamiliar place and you couldn’t tell if he was pleased or disappointed at your sudden loss for words.

He wasn’t saying anything further and you would’ve sighed in relief if it wasn’t for the fact he was watching you so intensely, eventually sitting beside you on the bench and you tensed up when you felt his thigh pressing against yours.

“You didn’t have to stop playing.” You were eventually muttering and you would’ve been more self conscious about your out of character behavior if he wasn’t already being so strange.

“Yeah I did.” He was sighing and you turned your head to look at him, being met with his side profile as he stared straight ahead towards the court and ignored the fact you were staring at him. “You’re a distraction.”

A laugh was bursting from your lips accidentally, almost a scoff and you cut it off short by covering your mouth and giggling out an apology when he shot you a sideways glare. You were shaking your head and trying to gather yourself before clearing your throat softly. “You see me every time you play, never been a distraction then.”

“Are you kidding me?” Now it was his turn to laugh but it was a lot more dry than yours and almost sarcastic sounding, like he couldn’t believe you’d actually said that. “You don’t think seeing you in that outfit every game is a distraction?”

He was finally looking at you now and your face flushed at how close that made you, nearly touching noses if either of you leaned forward slightly but you stayed perfectly still and scanned over his face as you tried to take in his words. You would’ve thought he was joking around and doing his usual rounds of mindless flirting but his tone was flat and his face remained serious, even as you watched him curiously.

You weren’t exactly sure how to respond and your words felt caught in your dry throat, letting down your guard for just a second too long and being struck with nerves.

“A good distraction?” You were eventually pushing out and your voice lifted in a curious tilt, his serious face breaking into a small smile again at the sound of your soft question and hesitant tone, two things he rarely heard from you.

“Yeah sunshine, it’s good.”

——

You spent the next two days avoiding Heeseung as much as you can, having ended the night in some more whispered small talk before he was resuming practice and you were eventually slipping off back to your house once the cold became too much for your hands and nose.

It was weirdly nice to watch him play in a place where he wasn’t obviously trying to show off and under the pressures of competition, watching the skillful way he moved and the sweat that continued to reflect off his deep tanned skin despite the bitter cold touching on yours.

You still felt awkward for having interrupted him and it didn’t help that you had finally played into his flirting for once, mistakenly letting your guard down once you saw him in a more neutral environment and you felt extremely embarrassed about the whole entire encounter. You were telling yourself it had nothing to do with the fact he made your face flush every time he leaned closer or the way your stomach flipped as he talked about your skirt distracting him.

Sadly, you couldn’t stay away from him for long considering a school year quarter pep rally was approaching and everybody involved needed to come to the gymnasium to practice together, including both the cheerleaders and the basketball team.

You frequented the gym a lot more regularly than other students and were pretty used to being in front of a crowd or performing routines to all of your peers but you could tell some of the clubs who would be involved were feeling nervous, striking up conversation with one of the boys from the dance club to try and ease his nerves.

The conversation was entirely friendly and even a little bit awkward considering you barely knew him and he was a lot younger than you but little did you know, Heeseung was watching you from across the gym and making his own assumptions about the interaction.

You completely missed the way his jaw was clenching as he watched the two of you laugh, you instinctively leaning forward and touching the boys arm as a comforting gesture and giving further reason for the hard glare being sent your way from the other side of the room. It didn’t help that you hadn’t been speaking to him and had went right back to actively avoiding him, he’d been overthinking it and looking forward to talking to you about his worries today since you had to be in close proximity.

So it was driving him crazy that you still hadn’t approached him and even worse, you were too caught up in a conversation with some kid he didn’t bother to place a name to.

Eventually the first round of practice was going to start soon and Heeseung watched as your coach said something to you briefly, stared as you nodded in acceptance and then wandered off to go and gather whatever it was that she had asked for.

He was following behind you without even thinking about it, completely ignoring the calls from his teammates asking where he was going and urging him to hurry up before the run through started. You were heading back towards the storage lockers where there was plenty of extra balls and uniforms, anything that might be needed during a game or an event.

You were barely thinking about the basketball player during this whole time, too distracted with the busyness of the day, but he immediately came to mind when you felt something pressing up against you from behind after entering the storage room that was tucked behind the large indoor bleachers.

“What are you doing?” You were grumbling out to him in your usual annoyed tone even though your stomach was flipping at the fact he was actually touching you for once, something he rarely did despite his constant advances.

He wasn’t fully pressed against you but just enough so that you could feel his clothing near yours, you could sense his large frame looming over you and practically caging you in near the wall you’d been passing when he arrived. You shifted slightly so you could turn your head to look over your shoulder and glare up at him when he didn’t respond.

“Who’s the kid?” He was responding and his voice was lower than usual, lacking it’s typical lightness and humor that came along whenever he felt like teasing you.

“Don’t be jealous of a freshman, it’s not a good look on you.” You were shaking your head and sighing, turning back to look at the shelf and try your best to ignore him despite your alarming awareness to how close the two of you were.

It was only increasing when his hand was finally touching you, snaking forward and resting against your hip in a way that caused your breath to catch in your throat, making you lose your nonchalant demeanor for just a split second before you were attempting to compose yourself again. He was just holding onto your hip, his hand large enough that his fingertips were pressing into your stomach.

You didn’t say anything as he touched you and you still didn’t when he was tugging you backwards softly, pulling your bottom half against his instead of fully pressing against you. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second at the feeling of him but you didn’t want him to see the obvious effect he had over you.

You were wearing a hoodie over your cheerleading uniform and half of his hand was underneath it so he could feel the hem of your skirt properly, bunching up the thick fabric around his arm slightly. He’d only pulled your lower half backwards so you were partially bent over now, barely enough to be noticiable but the implication made your cheeks burn.

“Why would I be jealous?” He was finally asking and his voice didn’t cut the tension at all, if anything worsening it. “Wasn’t him you were thinking about when you put this on.”

A scoff was falling from your lips at his sudden claim, despite how true it was considering you’d stared in the mirror particularly long this morning thinking about Heeseung calling you a distraction. Your careless attitude wasn’t holding too strong especially since he was squeezing your hip bone softly, your body instinctively pushing back further against him and causing your breath to stutter.

You felt slightly dizzy from the feeling of him against you so intimately, mixed with the fact that he had obviously been jealous over something as simple as you having a conversation. It should’ve annoyed you like it normally did but your heart raced slightly instead and you placed your hands against the wall subconsciously.

He took that as a cue to bend you over more, bringing his other hand up to your empty hip and using both of them to tug you fully backwards by the waist so you were flushed against him.

“Why are you wearing this?” He was suddenly asking and you were confused for a second before you felt him tugging on your large hoodie, childish annoyance in his tone at the fact most of your uniform was covered up.

You laughed softly at his whining, your voice embarrassingly affected and breathless. “Didn’t want to be a distraction.”

“That’s bullshit, you like knowing I’m watching you.” He was mumbling again now and it almost sounded like he was talking to himself, not really caring if you heard him. He was taking another step forward now and you could feel him more now, your head falling forward at the realization he was hard against you. “You’d let me take you right here, wouldn’t you?”

You considered not answering for a second and lowering his ego but he was slightly shifting backwards and releasing the pressure and a wave of panic ran through you.

“Yes yes I would.” You were rushing out and moving backwards to try and feel him again, ignoring the soft chuckle he gave and the way he squeezed your desperate hips in amusement. “You know I would.”

“Always so mean to me sunshine.” His voice was mocking again like it was the other night at the park and you were slightly thrown off by his change of demeanor, not expecting the roughness from the boy who was always big smiles and loud laughter everytime you’d seen him. He was bordering mean at times with his rough touches and provoking voice but you didn’t mind it at all, knowing you’d be dripping down your thighs if you were less clothed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being mean Hee.” Your voice was high and whiny but you were too turned on to be embarrassed, knowing how pathetic you must look.

“Show me how sorry you are.” He was instructing and you paused for a second, not exactly sure what he meant until he was lessening his hold on your hips. “Fuck yourself against me.”

Your breath was catching in your throat again and you let out a soft whine, one of your hands on the wall sliding down it slightly as you almost lost your balance.

He wasn’t exactly radiating patience and you were beyond desperate so you wasted no time in giving him what he wanted, pushing yourself back against him harder and crying out when you felt that he wanted it as much as you did, almost painfully hard now. His hips instinctively moved forward to meet yours but he immediately froze and stopped, letting you do all the work as you continued to roll your hips against him and try to get some sort of relief.

It wasn’t nearly enough for you, barely enough pressure for you to feel him and imagine how deep he would feel inside you but not enough to actually help you out in your building desperation, overwhelmed with longing for him as your hand fell off the wall and reach back to grab into his wrist.

“Please, I need you to touch me please.” You were begging him and a soft cry sunk into your voice, your head spinning with how bad you wanted to feel him anywhere.

“Fuck look at you.” He was grunting out before caving into your request, pulling you up softly and walking forward so now your entire body was pressed against the wall.

The cement was cold on your cheek and it would’ve been too uncomfortable if it wasn’t for the immediate distraction he was providing, his large hand slipping under your hoodie and aggressively groping your chest. His knuckles must’ve been rubbing against the wall but he didn’t show any signs of caring about the pain, twisting your hard nipple in his fingers and humping himself against you.

Your head was falling backwards to land on his shoulder, panting and letting out streams of high pitched whines as he roughly played with your mounds and thrusted against your skirt covered core.

He was using his free hand to reach over and grip your chin, holding it tightly between his fingers and turning your face so he could sloppily kiss you from where you laid on his shoulder. You were happily humming into his mouth despite the amateurish way you were moving against each other, more combined teeth and swapped spit than an actual kiss.

You could feel it dripping down your chin as he licked into your mouth, completely filthy and dirtier than you ever imagined him being. It was driving you absolutely insane and you’d completely forgotten about where you were or the fact people were expecting you back, the door not locked and accesible to anyone who came looking for you.

“Want you inside me Hee, please.” You were crying out into the kiss and he was only pulling back enough so you could speak, watching you with hooded eyes and parted lips and he tried to catch his breath and process what you were begging for. “I need you so bad, I can’t breathe.”

“Want me to fuck you sunshine?” His mocking tone was back and he squeezed your chest aggressively to emphasize his words, rutting against you in a sharp thrust that sent you harder into the wall again. He ignored your shocked cry and did it again before laying another wet kiss against your mouth. “Tell me baby, go on and beg for me.”

“I’ll do anything please, anything.” You were nearly sobbing now as you desperately tried to appeal to him, rocking yourself backwards into his hard cock to try and get him riled up enough to snap. “Need your cock in me so bad, do anything.”

Your words were slurred and mainly gibberish by now but it seemed to be enough for him, he cursed under his breath as he watched you desperately beg for him and you barely had time to process the fact he was moving before he was tugging down his basketball shorts and pressing your face against the wall again.

You moaned sharply into the cold cement and you were grateful it muffled it slightly considering you only got louder once he was roughly pulling up your skirt, ripping down your panties in one go and not bothering to warn or prep you before he was pressing the head of his hard cock against your entrance.

“Next time I’ll take my time with you, make you fall apart for me slow.” He was muttering in your ear as he lined himself up, pressing forward slightly and covering your mouth with his head when you let out a loud cry. “Can’t wait anymore though, gonna fuck you like the slut you are.”

You were nodding enthusiastically at his demeaning words, the more coherent part of you fluttering with butterflies at the fact he was already thinking about a next time that wasn’t so rushed. You had no issue with him simply fucking you now, feeling like you’d die if he spent another second teasing you or building up to it.

He was finally pushing himself fully inside you and your legs would’ve gave out if it wasn’t for his arm that was snaking around your stomach and his heavy weight pressing you against the wall, practically suffocating you as you lost your breath from the feeling of his complete length inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He was hissing out between gritted teeth and you instinctively clenched around him at the comment, satisfaction rolling through you when he groaned at the feeling. “No idea how long I thought about this.”

“Then show me.” You were snapping out, immediately hearing him laugh as your usual attitude resurfaced for a second, quickly growing impatient the longer he stayed still inside of you.

You were quickly taking back any anger you had when he was pulling out of you, almost all the way, before slamming his entire length back in. You could feel him so deep that you almost couldn’t catch a breath, bucking forward and your mouth parting in a silent cry that was immediately interrupted when he started to fuck into you at a fast pace.

He gave you no time to adjust to his thick size and you were grateful for it, the rough burn of him stretching you being exactly what you needed after years of bickering and teasing with him. It was beyond what you could’ve imagined, all that tension finally bursting into relief as he fucked you so rough you’d surely be coated in bruised by the time the pep rally actually rolled around.

You’d gone completely dumb and you knew he had too, holding his composure just enough to continue his aggressive thrust but losing all ability to tease you or make more comments towards your behavior.

He was holding you tightly against him and you almost wished you were somewhere more private so you could see him undressed, suddenly overcome with the need to feel his skin against yours and be completely covered in his warmth. You tried to ignore the unusually soft thought towards him and focus on how good he was making you feel, the familiar tight coil building in your stomach as he continued to fuck into you deep and rough.

“Please please.” You were begging again but you weren’t even sure what for at this point, your mouth just moving on instinctively so he didn’t stop under any circumstances.

“I know baby I know.” His voice was more gentle than it had been before but still just as tight and overwhelmed, definitely reaching the end rapidly himself like you were and trying his hardest to prolong it considering how good you felt as you kept getting tighter and tighter around him. “Squeezing my cock so good sunshine, you’re so perfect for me.”

“For you, just for you.” You were quickly responding to the casual possessiveness he had showed and this seemed to affect him more than anything, his hips faltering for a second in their assault before he was fucking into you even harder than you thought was possible. He clearly liked hearing you claim yourself as his own and you felt overwhelming dizzy at the realization.

It was a complete blur now as he fucked into you, coming undone faster than you ever had before and blacking out for a few seconds from the pleasure of him doing the same inside of you. You were too out of your head to care about the fact he had came inside of you and you didn’t even think about it.

You were immediately worried it would be awkward once you were coming back to your senses but then you processed the fact that Heeseung was placing soft kisses against your neck, turning you around gently so you were finally facing him and you felt a bit emotional from how kind he was being now after he’d just taken you so aggressively.

You were definitely in some sort of dropped space after the intensity you’d just been through because you were kissing him suddenly, happy you’d had him in that way but now feeling like you’d missed out on seeing him from this point of view.

He was grateful accepting the kiss and tugging you forward by your lower back, the same place he’d been holding but very different context now as he softly moved his mouth against yours and brushed your hair out of your face.

“Are you going to let me take you on a date now?” He was asking into the kiss and you pulled back to laugh softly, laying your head down on his shoulder and feeling the way they lifted as he chuckled at your reaction.

“Yeah hotshot… I’m sure we can work that out.”

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