#hes been following you... because he loves you

[tonycries]

Freak On The Cam! - C.K.

Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.5k

A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.

“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”

Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.

All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna. 

In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.

Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.

“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”

“She’s also my classmate.”

“Kinky. Even better.” 

No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too. 

It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.

Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.

And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.  

“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”

Ping!

And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You. 

“Let’s make one ;)”

---

“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?”  You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 

Weird. 

It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.

It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account? 

You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.

So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?  

Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.

But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got. 

“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”

“Yes.” 

It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off. 

But so irresistible just the same.

“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”

Alas, Choso was not a strong man. 

Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion. 

Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor. 

This was absolute torture. 

And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…” 

His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice. 

And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 

“...all you gotta do is touch me.”

Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.

“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now. 

But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”

And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips. 

“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.

You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”

His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to  admit - “-virgin.”

Oh. 

Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.

With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”

And then it’s like something snapped. 

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not? 

Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation. 

No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.

You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted. 

Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.

“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly. 

And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.

You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice. 

“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”

God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again. 

“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”

You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.

“Cho, do you want me to-”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.

You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is. 

“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”

“Oh?”

“Are y’gonna teach me how?”

Oh. Fuck.

You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.

Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other. 

You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit. 

“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”

You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”

“Like this?”

“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”

And by God, did you mean it. 

“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?” 

Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-

“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”

Ah, found it.

Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were. 

“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”

You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.

Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-

“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”

And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy. 

So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-

“Faster.”

He goes faster. 

“H-harder.”

He goes harder.

Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.

“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”

You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth. 

And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.

He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices. 

“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”

Oh. Shit, what have you done?

---

That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.

A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. 

So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm. 

But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.

In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.

Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more. 

For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?

Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet. 

“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed. 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”

“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”

Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-

Intensity setting 2.

“You’re so mean, too.”

“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”

God, he was addictive.

Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both? 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”

“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.

Intensity setting 3.

“That so?”

And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection. 

“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door. 

“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”

Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone. 

Intensity setting 4.

As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.

“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”

Cocky bastard.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”

God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.

“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”

Intensity setting 5.

That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.

Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.

“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”

Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.

“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”

And with that, it’s like the magic is over.

Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing. 

Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”

Close. You were so close.

A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.

---

“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”

You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-

But that wasn’t important right now.

What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”

Shit. Sukuna.

Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.

“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”

You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word. 

“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you.  Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two. 

And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world. 

“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”

“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”

“Just content?”

“Just content.”

“And you like that fool?”

Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”

This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”

“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”

Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”

Oh. Is that so?

And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”

---

You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully. 

You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)

Cho <3: :0 

And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?

Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all. 

He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles. 

Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead. 

Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy. 

Until now, that is.

slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.

uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter????? 

itsgenslut: idfc just fuck

“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”

You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack. 

“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”

“Mhm?”

And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.

Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”

It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”

And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.

The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy. 

It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already. 

“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”

“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”

uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??

roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh

“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”

Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game. 

“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”

A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum. 

He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?

“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.

You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”

“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”

Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over. 

“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”

You felt too good. Too perfect around him. 

“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.

Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”

Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you. 

“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”

Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will. 

Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”

“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”

Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there. 

Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time

22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.

DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser

Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter. 

“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-

“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”

The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.

You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-

 “Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.” 

And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body. 

slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.

DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.

Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him. 

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.

Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but. 

So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you? 

Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit. 

“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”

“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”

You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again. 

“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”

Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you. 

Loved it in fact- the way he loved you. 

Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.

Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-

“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”

His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs.  So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all. 

Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.

“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”

And he knows he’s won. 

urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.

uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls

DaStrongest: invite me next time <3

“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”

Oh?

“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera. 

“Mhm?”

“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”

---

Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.

You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.

Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies?? 

You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.

Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.

Haha

Right? 

You: *girlfriend

Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?

You: Girlfriend.

Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??

A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo #gojo x reader

[pucksandpower]

Worlds Apart

Max Verstappen x Sargeant!Reader

Summary: everyone seems to have something to say about your relationship with Max, but at the end of the day all that matters is the two of you

Warnings: Jos Verstappen

Based on a request by @butterflyexe

The sorority house is pulsing with noise — music, laughter, the clink of plastic cups. You weave through the crowd, feeling very much out of place amongst the scantily clad co-eds. Your sundress and sandals seem prudish in comparison.

“Y/N! There you are!” Chelsea, your big sister in Kappa Alpha Theta, comes barreling over with a few of her friends in tow. “We were just talking about you.”

You eye them warily. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, like how you’re totally wasting your college experience pining over some old race car driver instead of playing the field.” Chelsea’s friend, Brittany, smirks as she takes a sip of her drink.

You bristle at that. “Max is not old! He’s only 26.”

“Exactly,” Chelsea says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “You’re a sophomore dating a whole ass man who’s nearly 30. It’s weird.”

“No it’s not!” You protest, shrugging off her arm. “We’ve been together over a year. I really like him.”

“Like him?” Brittany scoffs. “Wake up, Y/N. He’s an international celebrity dating a little college student. You’re just his side piece.”

The words hit like a slap to the face. “That’s not true!”

“Then why does he never post about you on social media?” Chelsea counters. “I follow him and you’re never on his accounts.”

“We just value our privacy,” you mumble, but her words have sown seeds of doubt.

Chelsea gives you a pitying look. “Honey, I’m just trying to watch out for you. There are so many great guys here on campus that would treat you right.”

Your eyes narrow at the dig. “You mean like those meathead frat bros that never shut up about their high school glory days? No thanks.”

The girls all gasp in mock offense. Brittany steps closer, using her height advantage to loom over you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking about our men like that.”

“Yeah?” You stand your ground, hands on your hips. “Well maybe if they acted like men instead of immature little boys, I wouldn’t have to.”

A hush falls over the nearby crowd, all eyes on your confrontation. Brittany looks murderous until one of her sidekicks tugs her sleeve, murmuring “Let’s go, it’s not worth it.” She sneers at you one last time before stalking off, leaving you and Chelsea alone.

Your big sister sighs, rubbing her temples. “Why are you so hell-bent on making this hard on yourself, Y/N? Max is a world away, both physically and in terms of life experience. You could have any guy at this school eating out of the palm of your hand. Why not take advantage of that?”

Her words are salt in the wound. You blink back tears, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Because I love Max. He makes me incredibly happy. And yeah, the distance is hard and he’s older and more established in his career. But he’s kind and smart and we just … connect, you know? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”

Chelsea shakes her head pityingly. “I’m just trying to watch out for you. I’d hate to see you get your heart broken over some long-distance fling.”

“It’s not a fling!” You’re sick of trying to convince everyone. Pushing past her, you storm out of the suffocating house and into the cool night air. Gulping it down, you sink down onto the steps, chest heaving with anger and hurt and frustration.

Alone at last, you let the tears come. You know the doubts eating at you are unfair — Max has been nothing but devoted and caring throughout your relationship, even with his insanely busy schedule. But the fears voiced by Chelsea and her crew have burrowed under your skin. Maybe you are just a naive little plaything for him. Maybe he’ll eventually get bored and move on to someone more sophisticated and on his level.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket — a FaceTime call from the man in question himself. You fumble to answer it, swiping hastily at your damp cheeks. “H-Hey you.”

“There’s my gorgeous girl!” His bright smile fills the screen, momentarily banishing your worries. “I only have a few minutes before FP1, but I couldn’t wait to see that pretty face.”

You can’t help but return his warm grin, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I miss you so much, Max.”

His brow furrows at your tone. “What’s wrong, liefje? You sound upset.”

You want to brush it off, but maybe this is your chance to finally get those nagging fears off your chest. “It’s just … things have been rough lately with the girls. They keep saying I’m wasting my time with you, that you’re going to leave me for someone else, that I’m just a naive little girl you’re using for fun.”

He’s silent for a long moment, then curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That must be really hard to deal with, on top of the distance.”

“It is,” you admit, blinking back fresh tears. “And as much as I try to ignore them and have faith in us, their words have started to get to me. I mean … why don’t you ever post about me on social media? Do you not want the world to know about me?”

A shadow crosses his features. Clearly he’s heard this criticism before. “My reasons for keeping my relationships private have nothing to do with you, okay? I keep that part of my life off social media to avoid a media frenzy and protect the people I care about.” His expression softens. “But you better believe everyone important in my life knows about you — my family, my closest mates. Hell, the whole Red Bull garage is sick of hearing me go on and on about how amazing my girl is.”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears, some of the weight lifting off your chest. “Really?”

“Of course!” He chuckles. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. No matter how far apart we are or what anyone else says, you’re the only one I want.”

Your cheeks flush at his heart-melting words. In that moment, you don’t care about your snotty sorority sisters or the distance or anything else — just being completely in love with this amazing man. “I wish you were here,” you murmur, drinking in every detail of his face. “I miss holding you so damn much.”

Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Maybe you can show me how much later tonight, when we’re all alone to video call properly?”

You giggle and smack your hand over the camera, feeling suddenly shy. “Max Verstappen, you incorrigible flirt!”

“You love it.” His voice takes on a deeper, huskier tone that sends tingles down your spine. “And you’re going to love what I have planned for your next visit even more ...”

You spend the next few giddy minutes shamelessly flirting back and forth, soaking up precious moments of intimacy through the phone line to sustain you until you can be together again. When his race engineer appears in the background, beckoning him to the track, you’re both full of regretful sighs.

“Duty calls,” Max says wistfully. “But I’ll call you later, okay? We can pick up where we left off ...” He waggles his eyebrows mischievously.

You can’t stop your face-splitting grin. “I’ll be counting the minutes.”

“Bye schatje. Love you to the moon and back.”

“Love you too!” You clutch the phone to your chest after he disconnects, completely lovestruck. All your insecurities have melted away under the heat of Max’s devoted words and that heart-stopping smile.

It’s going to be okay.

He chose you — Y/N Sargeant, sophomore student, for all your flaws and relative immaturity. And you’ve never felt luckier.

Spirits lifted, you bound back into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. You’ll ignore Chelsea and her nasty friends for the rest of the night, instead losing yourself in daydreams of the next time you’ll be wrapped in Max’s strong arms.

Your relationship may be a long-distance whirlwind, but you’re all in and you’ve never been happier. Let the other sorority girls whisper — you’ve snagged yourself a keeper.

***

Max drains the last of his water bottle as he exits the Red Bull garage, sweat still beading on his brow from the qualifying session. He stretches his arms over his head with a satisfied groan — even after all these years in Formula 1, there’s no better feeling than pushing a car to its limits on the track.

“Max! A word, if you please.”

He cringes at the familiar bark, turning to find his father bearing down on him like a storm cloud. So much for basking in the post-qualifying glow. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Jos’ mouth presses into a grim line, eyes smoldering behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Well, for one, I saw that interview of yours from yesterday making the rounds online.”

Max fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his old man would find something to criticize. “And? I thought it was pretty standard, nothing controversial.”

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be controversial.” Jos sneers the word like a curse. “But dodging questions about your girlfriend and claiming you prefer to keep your private life private? It’s only going to stoke more media speculation and rumors.”

“Is that so bad?” Max counters. “I like to keep things out of the spotlight as much as I can. You know how ravenous the press is.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, son.” Jos steps closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous hiss. “I know exactly who this girl of yours is.”

Max feels his hackles rising at his dad’s dismissive tone when speaking about you. He opens his mouth to retort, but Jos barrels on.

“First it was that damn Kelly Piquet and her baggage, and now you’ve upgraded to jailbait? What is it with you and dating either old hags or naive teenagers, Max?”

“That’s enough!” Max snarls, feeling his face flush with anger. “How dare you talk about them like that, especially Y/N. She’s an incredible woman, and our age gap means nothing.”

Jos scoffs loudly. “Come off it, boy! She’s just a child, a nobody playing at being a WAG. You were born for greatness, bred to be a champion. Why on earth would you hitch your wagon to some college bimbo barely out of nappies?”

It’s like a red mist descends over Max’s vision at his father’s vile words about you. Before he can stop himself, his fist lashes out and connects squarely with Jos’ jawbone, sending the older man stumbling back.

“Don’t you ever speak about her that way again,” Max seethes, cradling his throbbing hand. “Y/N is ten times the person you’ll ever be. Smart, mature, driven as hell —she’s going to accomplish incredible things someday, whether you respect her or not.”

Jos regains his footing, clutching the blooming bruise on his cheek and glaring daggers at his son. “How dare you strike me, you ungrateful little shit! I gave you everything — the training, the opportunities, the sacrifices to get you to this level. And this is how you repay me?”

Max refuses to be baited, meeting his father’s glare with stony resolution. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on being such a hateful, miserable bastard all the time, I wouldn’t have to. All I want is for you to be civil and show some respect. Is that too much to ask?”

He huffs out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “But that’s not your way, is it? You’d rather condemn me for daring to find happiness with someone, just because she’s younger or doesn’t fit into your narrow ideas of what my life should look like. Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you. It’s my fucking life and I’ll live it however I damn well please.”

Jos opens his mouth, undoubtedly to fire off more vitriol, but Max cuts him off with a raised hand. He’s said his piece, expending the last of his energy and patience dealing with his father’s bullheadedness — at least for today. Right now, all he wants is to retreat somewhere quiet and let his thoughts drift across the ocean to you.

“Save it. I’m done arguing.” He turns on his heel and stalks away, Jos shouting insults at his retreating back.

Don’t react, don’t react. His jaw clenches almost painfully as he navigates the familiar path back to his driver’s room, typing out a quick message.

You free to chat soon, gorgeous? Need to hear your voice.

The reply comes almost instantly. For you, always. Give me 20 mins? ❤️

He can’t stop the surge of warmth at your words, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. That’s his girl — always knowing exactly what he needs, even from thousands of miles away. And isn’t that what matters most of all?

After showering and changing into casual sweats and a t-shirt, Max sinks onto the small couch placed against the wall, pillows arranged just so to prop up his aching back and shoulders. He picks up his phone and dials your number, heart rate kicking up a notch in eager anticipation.

After what feels like an eternity but is surely only a few rings, your face fills the screen. You must have just gotten back from class — your hair is tousled and loose, your makeup-free skin flushed and glowing in the South Florida sun.

“Well hey there, handsome.” Your teasing smirk dissipates as you get a better look at him. “Max? Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

“I am now,” he manages, relief already washing over him at the simple sight of you. He drinks in every last detail like a man parched. “Just had a bit of a run-in with my dad and needed an escape.”

Concern flashes in your warm eyes. “Oh no, what happened?”

So he tells you — the interview rumors, his dad ambushing him and lobbing insults, the explosive fight that caused him to lose his cool and strike the first blow. You listen with sympathy, every encouraging nod and murmured reassurance calming his frazzled nerves until the story is spent, leaving him strangely at peace.

“Thank you for sharing all that with me, babe,” you say once he’s finished. Your voice is gentle but firm. “I’m sorry Jos was so out of line, but you were totally right to stand up to him. Nobody gets to dismiss our relationship or talk about you like that.”

Max blows out a long breath, raking a hand through his shower-damp hair. “I know, I just … I hate letting him get under my skin like that, you know? No matter how much I try to rise above it, he always finds a way to trigger something deep down. It’s exhausting constantly needing to defend myself and the people I care about.”

“But that’s not your burden to bear alone, Max.” You shake your head adamantly, jaw set in that stubborn way he loves. “Let me help shoulder that weight, even if I can’t actually be there physically yet. I’m on your team, remember? We’re partners. I’ve got your back.”

Your words loosen a knot of tension he didn’t realize he was carrying. Of course you get it, you always do. He knows in that moment how lucky he is to have found his teammate, his shelter in the storm that rages on no matter how successful he becomes.

“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” His voice comes out low, thick with emotion. “How did I ever get so lucky?”

Your radiant smile could power entire cities. “By being you, silly. And for the record, your dad is way off base. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting a mature, driven, accomplished partner — even if she happens to be younger.”

“Age shaming goes both ways, apparently.”

“Apparently,” you agree wryly. “I had my own fun today ...”

As you launch into explaining the shenanigans that occurred during your morning lecture, Max feels himself relaxing further and further into the couch, a dopey grin spreading across his face. On and on the two of you go, playfully trading stories until his father and the endless pressures of his career have fully melted away, replaced by this perfect bubble the two of you inhabit.

When you hit a lull, stifling a yawn behind your hand, Max reluctantly decides to let you go for the night. “Do you have some time before your next class? You should get some rest.”

“Aw, I’m fine!” You protest through another jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m not done talking to my favorite driver yet.”

Max chuckles fondly. This stubborn streak of yours will be the death of him someday. “We both know that’s a lie. I can practically hear your bed calling your name for a nap from here.”

“Hmph, fine.” You stick out your full bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that makes his heart skip. “I guess if you insist on being all reasonable and stuff.”

“That’s me, a real fun-sucker.” He matches your playful tone, though his eyes are serious. “But before you go … can you just say it? For me?”

You immediately soften, gazing at him through the camera with so much tenderness, it almost winds him. “I love you, Max. More than anything.”

He exhales heavily, as if your words have physically lifted a weight from his shoulders. “I love you too, Y/N. And your love, your belief in me … it’s everything. Never doubt that, okay?”

“I won’t if you don’t,” you promise with a wink. “Good luck, babe. I’ll be dreaming of you.”

“Sweet dreams, liefje.”

Even after disconnecting the call, Max sits there for several long moments, staring at the now-dark screen with a besotted grin. His chest is pleasantly warm, full to bursting with the soul-deep reassurance that only you can provide.

Screw whatever toxic nonsense his dad tries to peddle about your age gap or his career. You’re the beating heart that sustains him, the sun around which his entire universe orbits. No disapproving authority figure or rumor mill gossip could ever change that fundamental truth.

So let his father rage and splutter all he wants about how “inappropriate” your relationship is. Max has tasted the extraordinary, found his home and partner in the most vibrant woman he’s ever met. All those lonely, empty years without that missing piece suddenly feel like a hazy, long-forgotten dream.

As Max sips his energy drink and prepares for another demanding few hours at the track, he can’t keep the dopey smile off his face. You’re worth enduring a thousand more shouting matches with his dad, worth traversing any distance just to hear your laugh again.

Max is the luckiest bastard alive to have earned your heart, and he’ll never take that gift for granted.

***

You shoulder your backpack and push through the double doors of the lecture hall, finally free from classes for the summer. The late afternoon sun bakes the quad in a warm glow as you pause for a moment, breathing in the sweet semi-tropical air.

For two years, this campus has been your entire world. Endless cycles of classes, parties, study sessions, and chaos with your sisters from Kappa Alpha Theta. But now, as you glance around at the laughing students basking in the first days of freedom, you feel a strange sense of restlessness settle over you.

Like there’s some place — somewhere — else you’re meant to be.

Shaking it off, you start heading for the student parking lot to meet up with Chelsea. You only make it a few steps before unusually loud cheers and shouts draw your attention to a small crowd forming near the front entrance.

Rows of parked cars block your view, but the distinctive growl of a high-performance engine cuts through the commotion. Your pulse instantly kicks up a notch as your mind puts it together.

That’s no ordinary car.

That’s a multimillion dollar, 800 horsepower British rocket. Sleek, powerful, luxuriously elegant.

Just like-

“No way ...” you breathe out, books slipping from your slackened grip as the glossy green bodywork of an Aston Martin DBS Superleggera slides into view. Because draped over the driver’s side door in that achingly familiar display of casual arrogance ...

“Max!” You shout his name in disbelieving joy even as your feet are carrying you toward him at a full sprint.

His head snaps up at the sound and your heart nearly stops at the way his whole face ignites with radiant delight. That brilliant smile you’ve ached to see in person for so long now stretching those full lips in the most heart-stoppingly beautiful way.

He pushes off from the car, hands outstretched, and in the space of a single frantic heartbeat you’ve flung yourself into his arms with a breathless laugh.

“What are you doing here?” You demand giddily as Max’s strong arms engulf you, swinging your frame around in a tight circle. You’re vaguely aware of the other students going nuts, people shouting and whistles piercing the air, but you only have eyes and ears for this incredible man holding you tightly.

Max just chuckles warmly, murmuring your name with raw affection before crashing his lips to yours in a scorching kiss that leaves you dizzy. You melt into the fierce embrace, parting your lips eagerly to taste the slight sweetness of Red Bull and dark chocolate that is so distinctly Max.

“Surprise, schatje,” he rumbles against your smiling mouth between heated, openmouthed kisses. “Thought I would swing by and pick up my favorite student myself.”

“Oh my god!” You laugh delightedly, cupping his chiseled jaw to drink in every perfectly imperfect inch of his beloved face. The strong jawline, the dimpled chin, those piercing blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he beams at you.

“When did you … how did you …” You’re at a loss for words, overcome with giddy euphoria at having Max here, warm and solid and real in your arms again after so many endless months.

A fresh wave of cheers and hollers suddenly cuts through your joyful bubble as half the crowd seems to recognize the celebrity in their midst. Dozens of camera phones whip out to capture the unexpectedly intimate reunion between you and Max.

“Who is that guy?”

“No way, that’s Max freaking Verstappen!”

“Y/N, how do you know Max Verstappen?”

The shouts and questions reach a fever pitch, finally breaking through your amorous fugue. Blushing furiously, you pull back just enough to murmur against Max’s chest.

“Well, much as I’d love to keep making out with my insanely hot boyfriend in the middle of campus, maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more private?”

Max gives a deep, rich laugh at that, the sound vibrating pleasantly against you.

“You are a wise woman, liefje,” he praises in that deliciously accented baritone. He presses one last, searing kiss to your smiling lips before reluctantly disentangling himself. “Though I would have thought you might like to give all your classmates one more delightful bit of inspiration to remember you by before you depart for the summer?”

He leers at you playfully as a chorus of whoops and whistles greets his flirtatious suggestion. You can’t help but bark out a laugh, shoving his chest lightly in mock admonishment even as heat rushes to your cheeks.

“You’re impossible!”

“No, just hopelessly in love with you,” he counters easily, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness in his voice and touch instantly gentles your teasing mood into something infinitely fonder.

This remarkable man, so genuine and caring beneath the roguish exterior cultivated for the cameras. You’re struck by a sudden lance of melancholy at the thought of how little the world really knows of the real Max Verstappen.

But then his eyes crinkle in that way that speaks of unabashed adoration just for you and the feeling passes. Because you know him better than anyone. And he sees you just the same. Two souls intertwined by a rare, precious understanding.

Max’s hand slides around to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your thundering pulse point. The tender motion instantly sets your nerves alight with renewed longing.

“So,” his voice drops to an impossibly deep bedroom octave meant only for your ears. “Shall we give the good people at the University of Miami one last show before I whisk you away for a few months of long overdue privacy?”

There’s the barest hint of a filthy promise underlying the words. You swallow thickly, unconsciously pressing closer as Max’s velvet tones wash over you like a physical caress.

“And just where will you be taking me?” You manage to tease back, forcing a bravado your hammering heart doesn’t feel.

“Well ...” He leans in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. You shiver helplessly at the heated puff of air ghosting your sensitive skin.

“First,” he begins in a heated murmur, “we’re going to swing by your sorority house to gather your belongings.”

“Okay ...” You nod faintly, hyper-aware of Max’s intoxicating proximity.

“Then I’ll be driving us straight to your parents’ place in Fort Lauderdale,” he continues lowly. “Per the strict instructions of one Logan Sargeant, of course.”

You can’t help the surprised laugh that bursts forth. Trust your brother to strong-arm his way into Max’s surprise plans.

“He didn’t give you too hard a time, did he?” You ask through your giggles. “I can only imagine the threats he must have ...”

You trail off at the feeling of Max’s talented mouth blazing a trail of kisses along the slender column of your throat. Every exploratory brush of his lips and insistent swipe of tongue steals the breath from your lungs.

“Max ...” You whine out his name without conscious thought, going pliant against the solid wall of his body.

“Shhh,” he rumbles against your overwrought senses. “Let me finish first.”

There’s a maddening pause where the only sounds are the rushing waves of cheers and chaos from the delighted crowd watching your every move, hungered gazes drinking in every scorching caress Max bestows upon you. Under any other circumstances, the thought of being so shamelessly devoured by hundreds of strangers’ eyes would have you recoiling in embarrassment.

But Max’s presence, his heated touch and low, sinful voice have you spellbound, uncaring of your audience.

“After we’ve satisfied your family’s demands to see us with their own eyes,” he purrs. “We’ll be boarding my jet bright and early for someplace much more ... pleasurable.”

Your skin prickles with delicious tension as Max continues in that low, rough whisper.

“We’ll spend a few lazy days lounging on a private beach in Aruba, just the two of us.” His large hand roves provocatively down the curve of your spine to boldly grip your backside, pulling your hips flush against the insistent bulge in his designer jeans. “Catching up on all the things I’ve been dreaming about for months, schatje.”

A tremulous whimper escapes your parted lips at the blatant promise underlying Max’s words. You flatten your palms against the firm planes of his chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat thundering in time with your own.

“A-And after that?” You somehow manage in a breathy rasp, scarcely daring to hope.

Max’s only response is a low, thrumming chuckle that you feel vibrate across your heated skin. His chin dips, molten blue eyes searing into yours with naked hunger.

“After that?” He husks, stealing the breath from your lungs with a devastating grin. “Well, then I’ll finally get to introduce the world to my favorite girl.”

And neither of you can wait.

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[artdcnaldson]

changeover || art donaldson x reader ; patrick zweig x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex x2, fingering, f!recieving oral), drinking, pining after people you can’t have, a dash of reader x tashi, sprinkles of patrick x art, porn WITH plot

Summary: your ‘casual’ fling with art isn’t working for you anymore, which sucks because you probably love the guy. enter a freshly heartbroken patrick to take your mind off of things.

FALL 2006

You knew exactly why Art Donaldson refused to acknowledge that you were an item. You could see it clearly across the room— the way you were cast to the shadows while he followed Tashi around like a lost puppy.  

It made sense, even if it made your chest ache. Tashi was gorgeous, and was acing her classes, and was going to go pro soon and become a beautiful, all-American sports icon. And you were just some girl he’d met because he needed help understanding the reading for class. 

You’d known each other for months by then— hooking up, going on dates that ‘weren’t dates,’ spending most of your time together. And you stayed firmly in the no-labels zone. But you weren’t bitter. It was totally fine, being treated like a girlfriend in all but name. 

Art laughed and leaned into Tashi. It was totally fine.

You were nursing a beer in a red solo cup and trying your best to look friendly and approachable. The only reason you were even at the party was because Art had brought you, so you should’ve felt grateful. You should’ve been having fun.

But just as soon as you’d arrived, he’d slipped away with a promise to be right back. It had been over an hour, so it seemed like you had very different definitions of right back.

“Looks like your boyfriend stole my girlfriend.” You turned to see Patrick, tanned from his time on tour. He was only going to be at Stanford for the weekend before taking off for a challenger a state over, which meant he needed to capitalize on any chance to spend time with Art and Tashi. 

Unfortunately, you’d both been ditched.

“Art isn’t my boyfriend,” you said pointedly, maybe a little too quickly. 

Patrick knew better. The last time he came to visit, he’d interrupted a pseudo date night between the two of you (which was a nice way of saying he walked in on the two of you in Art’s dorm while his best friend was was knuckles deep in you). The rest of that night wound up being spent passing around mixed drinks made with cheap vodka and whatever you could get from the nearest vending machine. You overheard the it’s casual, nothing serious conversation they’d had through the ajar door while you bought more Powerade and Red Bull in the hall. 

But you were being so understanding and cool about that. 

Patrick narrowed his eyes slightly. “Really?” The corner of his mouth tugged upwards for a moment before he wrapped his lips around a beer can. He tried to hide it, but you saw. 

You chewed on your lip, stomach twisting with nerves and curiosity. He was probably just messing with you, trying to get your thoughts all muddled up about Art because it was fun. Still, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question echoing through your mind. “Did Art say something to you? About us, I mean.”

The question felt pathetic. A stupid, desperate girl begging to know if the guy she liked felt the same way. 

Patrick shrugged, leaning against the wall bearing the portraits of the ghosts of frat brothers’ past. “Not directly. But you’re here together, right? And he’s still seeing you.”

“I guess,” you replied with a huff, embarrassment burning hot in your chest. 

“If you’re worried about Tashi, don’t be,” Patrick said, sparing a glance in her direction. When you looked towards Art, and the way he was smiling and laughing and looked so natural beside her, a frown turned your lips. Patrick nudged your arm and offered a smile. “Hey, I’m serious. Nothing’s gonna happen there. Trust me.”

It should’ve felt nice. A total reassurance from the person who knew Art best. But it did nothing to quell the turmoil twisting in the pit of your stomach. Because if he really did feel that way, why was he over there with her?

Tashi Duncan. So beautiful, radiant, and perfect that she had total control over two men. Your paths didn’t cross much, outside of Art, and that was rare since he liked to keep you two apart. 

But there was a part of you that knew that Tashi would’ve been able to make you melt with one look, one smile, one word. You wanted to experience what Art did. You wanted to know what Patrick knew, and what Art was jealous of. Or maybe you wanted something of your own too, something to keep Art out of. 

“I need another drink,” you said suddenly, meeting Patrick’s gaze. “Do you wanna come with me?” Patrick’s eyes flitted quickly towards Tashi, where she bantered with Art and the rest of the tennis team. 

There was something in his expression you found incredibly familiar. That pang of jealousy. The ache of not belonging just right. The look was gone quickly, replaced by a toothy smile. “Sure. I could use something stronger.”

——

An hour later, Tashi left with Patrick, and Art quickly decided to take you back to his own dorm. 

His lips were insistent against yours, kissing you hungrily, completely dissonant to the delicate way he tugged down the zipper of your dress. His fingers were warm where they brushed along the line of your spine. His tongue brushed against yours, tasting of beer and mint gum.

“What were you doing with him?” He murmured against your lips just as he peeled off the cheap, bodycon dress you’d gotten from Forever 21. It was tossed across the room, to be lost in the mess of practice duffles and empty water bottles and dirty laundry. The only time he parted his lips from you was to lift you onto his bed and slot himself between your thighs. 

His tongue licked into your mouth possessively, claiming you as his from the inside out. You gasped as one of his hands kneaded your breast, panting open-mouthed against his lips. “Who?” You managed weakly, your mind completely blank except for Art, Art, Art. And maybe a tiny voice in the back of your head that was still thinking about the Tashi of it all.

“Patrick.” His voice was soft against the tender skin of your jaw. “I saw you two talk, then you disappeared for, like, an hour.” His teeth nipped gently at your pulse point as he nuzzled against your throat, awaiting your answer. 

So he had been watching? He was with her, but he was still thinking about you. It made your heart flutter. You moaned softly as his hand slid between your thighs, teasing you through your panties. “Getting drinks,” you managed feebly. “Fuck, Art, I can’t concentrate while y—“

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers slipping beneath the band of your panties, teasing you with delicate touches. “Just drinks? For an hour?”

A strangled gasp escaped you as fingers slick with your arousal met your clit. When your eyes opened in surprise, you found Art staring right back. His touch was relentless, flooding your senses with pleasure as he demanded an answer. “We were in the living room,” you managed between soft pants and moans. “He was telling me about the— god— about the tour.”

Art’s expression flickered slightly— a tiny furrow forming between his brows. Was it doubt, or possessiveness, or anger? Before you could figure it out, his lips were against your throat, your panties were pushed to the side, and he was easing two fingers inside of your cunt.

“Fuck,” you cried out, grasping onto his shoulders. French manicured nails scratched at the pastel-colored polo he wore— why was he still wearing his clothes? Soft, keening moans slipped past your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. Every thought of him preferring Tashi or him leading you on slipped from the front of your mind as his thumb rubbed at your clit.

With a free hand, you palmed him over his pants, relishing in the way he panted against your warm skin. You made quick work of the button of his jeans— you knew your way around him like the back of your hand. He was warm, pulsing in your delicate grip when your hand slipped beneath the band of his briefs. Slick at his tip with need. 

He moaned against your pulse point, nuzzling against you as you began to jerk him off in time with each pump of his fingers. 

“You smell like him,” he groaned, nose pressed to the spot just beneath your ear as his hips bucked into your fist with a new sort of desperation. You didn’t have to ask who he meant. His tongue slipped out, lapping at you briefly before sucking a bruise into the delicate skin there. 

His fingers flexed so they brushed against the sweet spot within you. Your eyes rolled back and a sob of pleasure clawed its way from your throat. “Need you,” you pleaded, equal parts a thoughtless cry and a demand.

And who was he to deny either of you that? A pitiful whine escaped your lips when he slipped his fingers from within you and moved your hand from him. He stood to clumsily pull off the rest of his clothes at the same time that you quickly shimmied off your panties and tossed them to the side.

”You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned as he joined you back on the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You were so pliant and sweet beneath him, looking up at him with adoring doe-eyes and a pretty smile on your spit-slick lips. He should’ve been perfectly content.

As he parted your thighs, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, he wondered if Tashi and Patrick were doing the same exact thing at that same exact moment. He could imagine it clearly— Tashi, splayed out on her bed, and Patrick right at home between her thighs; sinking in, faces contorting with pleasure. Before he could stop himself, a soft moan slipped past his lips at the mental image. 

Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he sheathed himself within you, and he buried his face into your neck. Fuck. You really did smell like Patrick. The shitty Axe body spray that was supposed to smell like chocolate, and the lingering scent of cigarettes. 

You moaned prettily, pussy squeezing him like a vise. Manicured nails scratched against his back, delicate enough that the marks would probably disappear by that time the next day. He was so used to Patrick lounging shirtless around their hotel rooms after tournaments— severe-looking scratch marks looking like angel wings against his pale skin. He always wore them like a badge of honor the night after he snuck off with some pretty girl he’d set his sights on. That’s how you know you’re doing it right. 

Why was he thinking about Patrick?

He tried to lose himself in you— in how pretty you were beneath him, the sweet words falling from your lips with each thrust. Feels so good, Art. ‘M so close already. Gonna make me cum. 

When he looked down at you, your mouth hung open, lips shiny with spit, begging to be kissed. His mouth met yours messily and you both moaned into the kiss. He moved a hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit as he bullied his cock into your inviting cunt. 

You came with a string of moans and expletives that made the person next door bang on the wall out of annoyance. Art had to pull out as soon as he felt you start to squeeze around him. All it took was a few clumsy strokes and he was spilling onto your stomach with an almost embarrassing whine. 

You both lay there catching your breath and cursing the shitty air conditioning in the dorm. He wiped the mess of cum off of your stomach with an old tee shirt that was hanging off the side of his desk and tossed it to the side to be dealt with later.

“You’re so gross,” you mumbled with a tiny laugh, reaching down to grab your underwear from your floor. After you pulled them back on, you watched him dig through a pile of clothes in a papasan chair for a passable pair of pajama pants. An amused smile played on your lips at the sight. “Do I need to buy you a hamper?”

He held up a pair of pajama pants to examine them, shrugged, and pulled them on. “I have one, it’s just full.” A boyish grin spread across his lips as he crossed the room towards his dresser. He tossed a random tee shirt from the drawer in your direction and climbed on the bed, grinning down at you. “See? I have clean clothes.”

You laughed as you pulled the shirt over your head, then turned on your side to face him. His eyes flickered from your face, down to the shirt, then back. You wrinkled your face in confusion and peered down at the shirt. 

“What? What does it say?” You asked with a laugh.  You held it out, squinting to make sense of the graphic— faded and upside down. Finally, your eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh! I thought you were more of a Maroon 5 and Justin Timberlake guy. I’ve never even seen a Blink-182 CD in your stuff before.”

Art cleared his throat and shrugged, thumbing the bottom of the tee shirt absentmindedly. “I went with Patrick a few years back.”

A smile turned your lips. “It’s sweet that you two are such good friends.” You reached over, brushing his curls from his forehead. He turned, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin of your wrist. “Did you and Tashi have fun tonight?” The insecurity in your words was palpable.

Art shrugged. “A party’s a party, y’know?” He leaned into your touch, letting you play with his hair. “Just lost track of time. I won’t run off on you next time.”

You chewed your lip shyly. “I think it’d be nice for the three of us to hang out sometime,” you said, watching his expression to gauge his reaction. 

“C’mere,” he said with a tired smile, effectively avoiding your suggestion. When he pulled you against his side, he nuzzled his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His breath tickled with each exhale, which made you squirm, but every so often he’d place a chaste kiss on the skin there and you’d forget why you wanted to ask him to move.

In the morning, when you woke up to his alarm clock blaring a local radio station, you realized it was the first time he’d let you stay the night. 

SPRING 2007

After your second drink, you decided that Art Donaldson had hung you out to dry for the last time. Well, probably the last time. 

Most likely not the last time. 

Knowing yourself, you’d be clinging to his side like a lost puppy in a few weeks’ time, if you even had the dignity to give it that long. The second his attention turned to you again, you knew you’d be absolutely relishing in the special affection he always gave you when he was experiencing Tashi-related withdrawal.

You were so stupidly in love (or in lust, or in whatever) with him that you’d accept just about anything he could throw at you. 

No labels, just casual? Fine. Ignoring you all night then conveniently remembering you exist when he’s horny and ready to go back to his dorm? Whatever. You’re game. 

You’d gone to every match, watched a few practices. Helped him study for exams, let him borrow the notecards you’d painstakingly written over the course of the semester. Jesus, you even wrote a few essays for him when his schedule got crowded and he just couldn’t manage.

All you asked in return was a date to a stupid formal, and he ditched you last minute for Tashi. Again. And you couldn’t even get pissed about it without feeling guilty, because she’d fucking gotten injured and it wasn’t her fault that the guy you were into was carrying a torch for her instead.

“You’ve been staring down the Reese’s Pieces for the last five minutes.” The familiar voice startled you from your sulking. The world filtered back in suddenly— the blaring music, the smell of cigarettes and pot, the chatter of people wandering in and out of neighboring dorms. When you turned, Patrick Zweig was leaning against the vending machine beside you, carrying a large Tennis bag and backpack on both of his shoulders. “Do you need five bucks?”

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” You asked, brows furrowed with confusion. “I heard about her match. I just figured that you’d…“ You trailed off as you noticed the thinly veiled kicked-puppy expression he wore. “Oh.”

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s… it’s over. Did you want the Reese’s, or not?” 

“No,” you shook your head and laughed. “I just needed…” you trailed off. What was it you needed, again?

You needed Art. A date to the formal. You needed to feel desirable and cared for. You needed him to get his head out of his ass and just fucking commit. You needed to tell Art to fuck off and find another groupie. You needed…

“Another drink?” Patrick suggested.

You nodded eagerly like that’s what you’d been thinking all along. “Yes. Another drink.” You paused, glancing at his bags. “Do you want to drop your things in my room first? My roommate is in Iowa, or something. She won’t mind.”

Your dorm was decorated in shades of pink and green, with a ruffled bedspread and faux fur pillows and blankets. You bent down to retrieve two bottles of Smirnoff Ice from a mini fridge. Patrick did his best to look away like a gentleman would. 

Well, he did his best. It wasn’t exactly his fault that his options were to look at your tight jeans or the bulletin board above your desk that was essentially an Art Donaldson shrine. 

Pretty pink push pins held up a photo of the two of you after one of his matches, both beaming at the camera. Then there were little notes he’d written you in his boyish scrawl. Tickets to movies you’d gone to see and tickets to his matches. 

“Here,” you said, drawing his attention back to you, thankfully in an upright position. You’d already popped the bottle caps off the radioactive blue drink you handed him. You were chewing your lip shyly, sweetly. “It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it?”

“What?” He took a drink and nearly grimaced at the sweetness. After he finished it, he’d need to go find something stronger.

You sighed and took a long drink yourself. “I dunno, the whole… thing. Art.” You absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your shirt. “I mean, what girl with any self-respect lets a guy just screw her for months with no commitment?”

“Maybe self-respect is overrated.” He laughed and stepped closer. “Full disclosure? I only came here hoping that I could fuck someone and spend the night in their dorm. Free booze was a plus.”

“We’re in the same boat then,” You said, gazing up at him through your lashes. “We’re both jilted lovers who need a distraction.”

You tilted the bottom of the bottle up, chugging down the contents. When you were done, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and rolled your neck out. “Bottoms up,” you said with a coy smile. “Let’s find something stronger.”

——

An hour later, something by the Pussycat Dolls was blaring through a set of speakers in a darkened common area. You were the fun kind of tipsy, where you started to care less about everyone else and just found yourself buzzed in that light, easy kind of way. You danced to the beat without a care in the world while Patrick sat on the arm of a couch and nursed his beer. 

His eyes were glued to your body as you moved, almost hypnotic beneath the red Christmas lights that had been stapled around the ceiling. Your shirt had ridden up, revealing a sliver of stomach that you either didn’t notice or didn’t care to cover up. 

The only thought running through his head? Art was a fucking idiot. 

You glanced over at him and nodded for him to join you. He didn’t move, so, not one to give up, you joined him over on the couch. When he went for a drink, you tipped up the bottom of the beer can and forced him to finish it, even as it spilled past his lips and down his chin. 

“Thanks,” he deadpanned, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

With a pleased smile, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the middle of the room to dance.

He shook his head as you tried to make him dance— your hands on his hips, pushing and pulling and trying and failing to make him move. “No, no. I don’t dance,” he explained, as firmly as he could stand to be.

“Because you can’t? Or because you think you’re too cool?” You asked, raising a brow. He rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “C’mon, if you dance, I’ll tell you a secret.”

That did make him laugh. “What are you, five?”

With a shrug, you took his hands into yours and moved them to your hips. There was a hesitance in his touch, at first. But then his fingers splayed against exposed skin, and you were so warm. Your hips began moving to the beat beneath his hands. “See? We’re dancing,” you said, peering up at him through long lashes.

You looked genuinely victorious when he finally started dancing… kind of. It was less of an action and more of an acceptance. It had been abundantly obvious since the moment he walked into your dorm room that you wanted to end the night with him. Maybe it was because you thought it would hurt Art, or maybe it was because he was there and he was feeling the exact same things you were.

He’d done his best to resist out of some lingering sense that he could repair things with Tashi, and the hope that maybe Art’s spite would fade and they’d be friends again.

Despite skipping the whole college thing, Patrick wasn’t an idiot. He knew better. The second Tashi fell on that court, both of those doors slammed in his face.

And you were so close to him that he could smell the liquor on your breath. And Victoria’s Secret body spray. Mostly the liquor, though. He was barely moving, but you— you were something else. Hips moving against the thigh he’d slotted between your legs, arms trailing up his chest so you could sling them around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer. Even though you were grinding against each other like two horny middle-schoolers at their first dance, he’d had enough to drink that he didn’t really give a fuck. When he moved his hands from your hips to grab your ass, you gasped and laughed like it was the best thing in the world.

Your body moved so effortlessly that anything he could have possibly done would’ve looked clunky and clumsy. He groaned when you brushed against him just right, and he could tell by your smug expression that you knew exactly how you were affecting him. 

You leaned in, chest to chest. “Can I tell you the secret now?” You whispered, lips brushing against the line of his jaw. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I think it’d be a bad idea for us to fuck. We’re both in a bad place.”

“Mhmm. Bad idea,” he echoed. He wanted to reach out and grab your jaw, to tilt your face up and kiss you. One of your hands had slipped beneath the hem of his (Tashi’s) shirt, just barely teasing the skin there. It made him shiver and lean into the heat of your touch.

“But I still want to.” You sounded so earnest, so needy. Like you’d take anything he’d give you and thank him for it. “We can use each other to feel better, right? Just a nice, warm body and a rush of dopamine.”

It was exactly what Patrick had come to the fucking dorm rager for. To feel wanted and desired. For someone to look at him like he wasn’t actively failing at the one thing he was supposed to be the best at. 

But he was good at other things.

You guided him through the crowded hallway, way more packed than they had been before you’d started dancing. It was getting later, more people were falling for the siren song of R&B and beer. You were a siren of a different making— with much more dangerous consequences than a hangover.

It almost felt wrong to be back in your innocent, frilly little dorm with the intention of fucking your brains out. But the looks you were giving him were enough proof that he wasn’t the only pervert. Before you could get too far, he pinned you up against the door, displacing a dry-erase calendar in the process. 

You glanced down, eyes flitting towards the hearts around tomorrow’s date, anticipating the formal that Art had flaked on. Without looking back, you kicked the dry-erase board out of the way, a problem for later. 

His lips met yours in a messy clash— teeth knocking slightly until you found a rhythm with each other. Patrick Zweig kissed like he’d been at war for fucking years and had just returned home. He kissed like he had crawled out of the desert and the only promise of water could be found on your tongue. 

You’d never been kissed with that level of need and desperation— that desire— and you fucking loved it. The taste of his tongue licking into your mouth, the rumble of a moan against your own lips.

His hands were moving beneath your shirt, pushing it up as he went. A pretty whine slipped past your spit-slick lips as he squeezed your tits over your bra. Your hands stayed busy undoing his jeans. He moaned into your mouth when your fingers barely brushed against the bulge through the denim. 

“That feel good?” You teased, practically breathing the words into his lungs as you slipped your hand into his boxers. He groaned in response as your hand wrapped around him and pumped slowly.  There was something addicting about his need— you relished in the pulse of him, warm and bucking into your grip. And you wanted more. You wanted to be the one to make him come undone. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

His head fell back slightly as you brushed your thumb along his tip, the movement accompanied by another soft groan. The way you peered up at him with an earnest need to please made hot desire thrum within him.

“You could start by taking these clothes off,” he said, fingers roaming to tug at the strap of your bra. You started to move, slipping your hand from his boxers. Then you stopped.

“You’re not gonna help?” You asked coyly, goosebumps forming where his fingers trailed along your side, teasing at the band of the bra. 

That made a tiny smirk turn at his lips. “Does Art help?” It shouldn’t have turned him on— that little flash of longing for Art in your eyes. But it did. You nodded, shifting slightly to encourage more of Patrick’s touch. “Lift your arms.”

As easy as anything, you obeyed. No banter, no push and pull for control. It was so different than what he had with Tashi (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about), and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how it always was for you and Art (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about either). 

He tossed your shirt to the side and moved a single hand to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a quick movement that he’d perfected at sixteen. Painstakingly slow, he pushed each strap down your arms, until it fell at your feet and exposed your tits to the overzealous AC of the Stanford dorms. 

Your nipples pebbled in the cool air, and his mouth watered in a near-Pavlovian response to the sight. His hands moved back to your chest, so he could thumb over the sensitive buds and relish in the way you shivered.

The wood of the door was cold against your shoulders as you arched into his touch. Manicured nails fumbled with the button to your jeans— you twisted and shimmied them off before kicking them to the side.

Before you could react, he picked you up and carried you over to the bed. A grin played at your lips as he practically dropped you onto it, making a decorative pillow fall to the floor. 

“It was only, like, five steps,” you said with a laugh. Patrick shrugged and made quick work of his clothes. You sat up on your elbows to watch him shuck off his pants, then awkwardly hop on one foot at a time to remove his shoes and socks.

When he finally joined you on the bed, he was clad only in his boxers, which were sporting an almost comically large tent. He positioned himself over you, that shit-eating grin ever present on his face. “Can I go down on you?”

You laughed lightly in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

He nodded. “As a heart attack.” He nuzzled against your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, lemme make you feel good, okay? I live for this shit.”

You giggled, pushing his face away. “Yeah. Fuck. You can.”

He trailed his lips down your jaw, then your sternum. He stopped only briefly to suck each nipple into his mouth, making you squirm and arch into him. Your hand moved into his hair, and he moaned against your tit as you tugged slightly. 

You watched him kiss down your stomach and peel your panties down your legs with his teeth through half-lidded eyes. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he slowly kissed up one leg.

The sight made your stomach flip— the sheer desire of it all. Your mind flickered to Tashi, as it seemed to do more and more. Tashi got this same sight, felt the same lips on her skin, and heard the same groans and pants. You could’ve laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. At that moment, with Patrick on top of you, you were closer to Tashi than Art could even dream of.

A tap on the inside of your thigh was his wordless way of telling you to open up for him, to get out of your head and come back to earth. Your tummy fluttered as you spread your legs more and he slotted himself there with an arm slung across your stomach. 

“Fuck,” he said lowly, peering up at you. “You get this wet from just kissing?”

Heat burned in your cheeks at his obvious amusement, but you could tell he loved how responsive you were. His tongue traced you from your hole to your clit, making you cry out and twist your fingers into his curls. Quick, teasing flicks against your clit made your thighs tremble and squeeze around his shoulders. You were so fucking sensitive that it made him want to tear you apart.

It was messy— a sloppy mix of his spit and your arousal as he made out with your pussy. His nose brushed against your clit as he nuzzled deeper into you, moaning as his fervor was rewarded with more of your juices spilling onto his tongue. 

There was no method or precision to it, even though you were quite sure he could’ve had you coming undone beneath his fingers in no time at all. Patrick relished in every tiny reaction— in feeling your thighs around his head and your fingers in his hair. Relished in the taste of you on his tongue and the feeling of your slick smeared across his face. 

Your back was arching off the bed, nails digging just shy of painfully into his scalp. 

He opened you up with one finger, then a second. Your cunt accepted the intrusion with ease, like you were made for it. For him. He crooked his fingers just so and you cried out pathetically. He pressed there, constant and firmly and your fingers tugged harder on his hair, moans increasing in pitch as your breaths came in pants. 

“I’m— I— fuck—“ words failed you as his lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked, making spots dance across your vision. In the absence of words, all you could manage were fucked out sobs and pitiful little whines.

Slick walls fluttered around his fingers, and your clit pulsed against his tongue. You were so easy to get worked up— a toy for him to wind up and set into motion. You came with a moan that would’ve made a weaker man cum inside of his boxers, your cunt spasming around the intrusion of his fingers. 

When he sat back and cleaned his fingers in his mouth, you were watching through half-lidded, hazy eyes. Tiny pieces of hair were plastered to your face and forehead, and you gave a breathless giggle as you looked up at him. 

“Holy shit,” you said with a grin as he shucked off his boxers and kicked them off somewhere across the room. 

“Feel good?” He asked, and pressed a kiss to your hip bone. You nodded wordlessly, feeling dizzy with need. “Gonna give me another one?”

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly, peering up at him with wide eyes. The tip of his nose was shiny with your arousal, which made warmth spread across your cheeks. With a sheepish laugh, you reached up and wiped it away with your thumb. There wasn’t much you could do about the mess on his mouth and chin. “You’re all messy.”

He kissed you slow— leaving his tongue against yours, making you taste yourself mixed with his spit. It was less of a kiss than a series of slow laves of his tongue against yours. It felt dirty, and a little gross, but you couldn’t help but relish in it. You’d never kissed Art like that, would’ve never even dreamed of it. Patrick was an entirely different animal. 

You stayed like that for a while— just completely lost in the feel of him warm on top of you, grinding his cock against your cunt as he planted messy kisses to your lips. 

“Condom?” He mumbled the words against your lips when he finally grew impatient.

“Mhmm. Bedside table.”

He fumbled inside the drawer, grabbing glasses cleaning wipes two seperate times before he finally found a foil packet in the bottom of the drawer.  

He held it between two fingers, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You sure this’ll fit me? I’m bigger than Art.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not by that much.”

“Where it counts, though.” His smirk was smarmy as he tore open the foil with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length. He spat in his hand and stroked himself as he peered down at you, like he hadn’t quite decided how he wanted you yet. 

“Turn over,” he finally said with a pat to the meat of your thigh. You did as he said, almost hesitant as you turned over and settled onto your forearms, arching your back slightly. “Does Art ever fuck you like this?”

He held the head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you with the tiniest amount of pressure. You took in a shaky breath and shifted, eager for more that he wasn’t going to give you yet. “Do you have to bring him up right now?”

No. He knew he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help himself at the same time. The thought of his Art in this same bed with you made it all so much hotter for him. He wanted to know how Art had fucked you, he wanted every detail burned in his brain. He wanted to be better, or maybe just be there with the two of you. 

It had gotten close. Once. Art was definitely fingering you under a blanket while the three of you watched a movie on his laptop across the room. Patrick’s thigh was touching yours— he could feel the way your muscles tensed and shook as Art played with you. He was close enough to hear the hitch of your breath. 

And if that hadn’t been enough to give it away, Art’s stupid fucking smirk and the obvious way his arm was moving would have.

He didn’t do anything then, but maybe he should’ve. 

“I’ll take that as a no.” He was slow as he sank into you, inch by inch. It could’ve been the position, or maybe his cocky bravado was completely founded, but he did feel bigger than you were used to. A soft moan was punched from your lips when he was finally buried to the hilt— your breath came in soft pants as you adjusted to the feeling of him. 

With your face pressed into your pillows, each breath you took flooded your senses with the smell of Art’s cologne. You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as your thoughts were overwhelmed with him.

“Shit, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he groaned. His fingers dimpled your skin where he held onto you. He moved one hand to rub the base of your spine in a way that could probably have been tender, on another day. You moaned pathetically into the pillows. “What? You need something?” 

One shallow, teasing thrust made your toes curl. “More,” was all you could manage.

“Can you take it?” Patrick cooed, smugness was practically dripping from his tongue. “Because I can go slow if you need—“

“You’re such an asshole. Just fuck m—”

A rough snap of Patrick’s hips cut you off suddenly. You cried out, grasping onto the bedspread feebly as he began to fuck you in earnest. 

Each thrust made the cheap, university-provided bed frame slam against the wall. The decorations you had hung up rattled, threatening to tumble right onto the floor and shatter, but neither of you even noticed. The moans slipping past your lips were pornographic.

But the sounds escaping you were nothing compared to the noises Patrick was making. Art had made an off-handed comment, once, about how much of a slut Patrick could be. You hadn’t really seen why until you got to hear the desperate, debauched noises he could make.

You slipped a hand between your thighs to rub at your clit and the feeling stole the air from your lungs. Your eyes rolled back, ass jiggling in time with each thrust.

Through it all, the memory of Art in this bed clung to you. Art, burying himself in the soft, wet heat between your thighs, flushed down to his chest and panting softly. His hungry kisses, melting sweet on your tongue like cotton candy. The whines that slipped past his lips, better than the prettiest music you could imagine. 

With each brutal thrust of Patrick’s cock into you, he punched out soft ah, ah, ahs from your lips. In your head, you just heard Art, Art, Art. Maybe that’s what you meant to say. 

You were probably in love with him. You were fucking his best friend. And it wasn’t even that simple. Patrick and Art and Tashi and somewhere between it all, you lingered. It was a giant clusterfuck of feelings and lust that you’d somehow tangled yourself inside of. Wanting someone so much, you want whoever has them just as badly. 

Maybe everything would’ve been a lot cleaner if you’d just locked the four of you into a room and stayed until every bit of tension had been fucked out. The idea of it all made you moan softly into the pillows. 

Patrick pulled you up suddenly, back flush against his chest as he continued to fuck into you. One hand grabbed at your jaw, turning you so he could press his lips to yours again, and the other squeezed at your tits. His mouth did a perfect job of muffling your moans— Patrick relished in feeling your pretty whines vibrate against his lips. 

“You feel so fucking perfect.” His words made heat flutter through you. “Need t’ feel you cum again. You have it in you, yeah? I can feel it.”

You nodded, eager to please. Pleasure was lapping at every nerve, lightning-hot. Your fingers rubbed faster at your clit as he pounded up into you. The whines escaping you were pathetic as your body crawled closer and closer to the edge. 

“Close,” you gasped out. Patrick licked into your open mouth, kissing you sloppily as you set a punishing pace on your poor, oversensitive clit. “So close— f-fuck—“

Your orgasm hit you suddenly. You clawed at his arm with your free hand, desperately seeking purchase as euphoria pulsed through your veins. 

“That’s it,” he groaned, his breath hot against your jaw. “Fuck— squeezin’ me so tight I can barely move— god—“

Your eyes were half-lidded as he worked you through it, rhythm only just beginning to falter as his finish approached. He pushed you back onto your stomach, manhandling your hips so your back was arched just like he wanted. 

You were reduced to whimpers and whines by the time he finally came— buried as deep as he could get, grip bruising on your hips. A few shallow thrusts were all he could manage before he pulled out, collapsing on beside you. 

You were catching your breath while he disposed of the condom in the cute trash can beside your bed, filled with gummy snack wrappers and broken pencils and old class notes. It felt like sacrilege. He laid back down, and you pulled a throw blanket over the two of you. 

With his head against the pillows, you wondered if he could also sense the phantom of Art’s presence there in the bed. Somewhere between you, forcing distance.

“So, when do you leave for your next tournament?” You asked. Unconsciously, you reached out to play with his hair, the same way you did to Art in times like these. “Soon, I bet. You usually don’t stay long.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” He asked, a tiny smile playing at his lips. His chest was still heaving with exertion. 

You shook your head. “I don’t want to get rid of you, Patrick.” He melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. 

In the morning, you’d wake up squished against Patrick’s side with the taste of sugary alcohol on your tongue. When you picked up your phone to see three missed calls from Art, it was easier to pretend that you hadn’t seen them at all.

thanks for reading :) if you enjoyed, please lmk by sending an ask, or whatever you wanna do <3

#challengers 2024 #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson fanfic #patrick zweig fanfic #challengers fanfic #my writing

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. trying to get your cold boyfriend to crack a smile !

tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. fluff, suggestive at the end. reader gets called ‘girl, doll (face)’

“you should smile some more,” you comment unexpectedly as the television runs in the background. toji raises an eyebrow, amused yet curious at the way you interrupted the peaceful atmosphere.

your sluggish lover looks down at you as you sit up on his lap. his arms loosen up around your waist, though his manly hands don’t leave their favorite spot—your ass. toji gives it a squeeze, huffing at the way you’re blocking his sight with your head, “what ‘re ya on, girl?”

he figures it’s just you trying to strike up a silly little conversation again, for the sake of entertainment. he tilts his head to the side so he could continue watching the show playing on the big screen.

your hands come to cup his face. your palms are actively being prickled by his stubble, the man not having bothered to shave this morning. not that you’re complaining. you love it when toji leaves that stubble on his face. it gives him a more manly look.

“smileeeee,” you exclaim and use both your index fingers to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. his lips are morphed into an awkward, forced smile that makes you frown.

you secretly hoped that toji would go along with your request, but he doesn’t. that same expressionless face stares right back at you. his ‘smile’ instantly disappears the moment you drop your hands to your sides.

the black-haired man runs his fingers up your waist. and arms. he eventually pinches your cheeks for a second, properly positioning your body so he could watch the television in peace. toji places his chin on your shoulder, half lidded eyes lazily following the people on screen.

“i wanna see you smile again, c’mon,” you whine and try to push toji’s head back, but he stubbornly refuses. he easily overpowers you and pins your wrists down against your sides, nearly crushing you in a ‘hug’.

he takes a deep breath and sniffs your perfume. he places a quick kiss on your throat, thinking it’d pacify you for now.

“i would if y’ could make me laugh, doll,” toji answers in a gruff voice. he falls silent again as he’s too focused on the show playing.

you frown at his comment and can’t help but feel slightly offended. you roll your eyes and push back from toji’s tight embrace, if that’s what you can even call it. you pout and cross your arms over your chest. you stare at him, his green eyes glancing back at you for a second.

seeing you get all sulky because of what’s supposed to have been a lighthearted comment, is adorable. though toji doesn’t say that stuff out loud.

“you’re saying i’m not funny?” you ask. it’s more of a rhetorical question. your partner shrugs and yawns, one hand of his sneakily slipping under your shirt. his meaty fingers glide up to your bra, tracing the outline.

it’s another action of his in attempt to distract your mind from this entire conversation. however, it fails as you swat his hand away. toji clicks his tongue and gently swats you back— resulting into a mini fight between the two of you.

your slaps against his biceps may seem hard to you, but to the bulky man they’re child’s play. it feels like nothing, while you’re trying your best to stand up for yourself. toji’s revenge smacks are light taps against your bum and hands.

he’s clearly not putting in any effort unlike you.

“if that’s how you wanna take it, then yeah, y’ ain’t funny,” toji adds fuel to the fire, amused by how upset you’re getting. he doesn’t mean anything he’s saying; he’s simply interested in your adorable reactions. you look cute—thinking you’re doing something to him while you slap his bicep as response to his sneaky remarks.

you huff and roll your eyes. the little unserious tussle between toji and you continues. “bastard,” you answer and stick your tongue out to him. your lover lets out a puff of air through his nose at your weak attempt of insulting him.

he indulges you again.

“what’ddya say there?” toji questions in a low tone. he easily grips your wrists and flips you over until your back hits the soft sofa. your hands are gathered above your head and his face is close to yours.

that doesn’t stop you from being bratty, however, no matter how intimating toji tries to act. his black bangs brush against your forehead due to the proximity between you both.

“bastaaaaaard, you’re an asshole,” you shamelessly continue, your voice echoing in his ear. the black-haired man stares at you with a blank stare for a couple seconds, letting you blow off some steam.

you don’t know how cute you are right now to him. toji could just eat you up right then and there. having his girl try to act fierce around him is such an endearing sight.

without knowing it, toji’s scarred lips curl up, a faint smile appearing on his face. he doesn’t bother moving or setting your hands free.

“heh, right—i am, aye?” your lover nods and places a chaste kiss against your jawline, biting that same place not a second later. he lifts his head up and stares down at you with that same subtle smile.

you’re a bit shocked by the fact that he actually smiled. you love seeing toji show hints of happiness, which he rarely does. but when he smiles, you know it’s going to be a beautiful sight.

and it sure is now.

you’re too caught up staring at his handsome face to realise that that cherished smile has turned into a teasing grin. toji’s free hand slides up to grab your bottom lip, pulling back and letting go to watch it bounce back in place. his warm breath gently hits your cheek and you feel a shiver run down your spine;

“y’know if y’ want to, i can show ya how much of an asshole i really can be, doll face.”

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk fluff #toji fluff

[lipringlrh]

HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER PART 2 (LANDO ENDING)

read: part one | logan ending

summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.

pairing: lando norris x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k

Lando wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that night was the worst sleep he’d ever had. He left as soon as he found out you’d left with Lily and Alex, and made his way to your house just to find out you weren’t there. He messaged Alex to get no response and contemplated waiting outside your door until you came back, whether it be days or months, he’d wait for you. But, after almost falling asleep numerous times and getting laughed at by a group of teenagers, he made his way back to his apartment, knowing you’d be looked after.

He was awake almost all night, messaging and calling you and regretting everything in its entirety. He didn’t fully know if you had even seen him kiss the person that resembled you, he only felt it deep down, but even if you hadn’t, he shouldn’t have done it, and he could never apologise enough. He thought of how to explain his thoughts but nothing would suffice; nothing would ever be able to explain how he felt.

At some point in the early hours, he finally drifted off, but awoke not much later to an aggressive banging on his door and a voice screaming at him to hurry up. He wished the voice was you but it wasn’t and he hated it. He rushed to his door, barely having time to pull on some grey joggers before opening it to an angry Alex, very close to breaking the door down.

“Are you stupid?” Alex questioned, fuming, pushing his way into Lando’s house, “I know that you’re in love with her so what are you doing?”

Lando looked like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t explain his actions, he didn’t even want to think about them. All he remembered feeling was grief at watching you walk away, so when he found someone that looked eerily similar, he took the chance to kiss them and create the image in his mind of kissing you. It didn’t last long. He realised too quickly that they didn’t smell like you and the way they kissed wasn’t the same. He hated it, he didn’t want to kiss anyone but you.

“I know, I didn’t mean to-”

“What, you just tripped into her mouth then?” Alex questioned, pushing a finger against Lando’s chest.

“No- no. I don’t know why I did, I really love them I promise. We almost kissed but then they walked away, I was hurt, I didn’t think they wanted me,” Lando almost cried, his voice cracking.

“You do this every time you go out. You kiss her every time you go out and she follows, you don’t get to pull that card. You might be upset but I promise you’re not even feeling half of it,” Alex spat, not caring if he hurt Lando because he hurt you much more.

“Help me apologise. I need to apologise, please Alex, please help,” Lando begged, wanting you to more than anything, “Please Alex, I’ll do anything.”

Alex sighed. At that moment, he hated Lando for what he did, but he’d been wishing for you both to get together since he first saw you both together, making heart eyes at each other. He contemplated in his head whether to help or not. He always envisioned you together but always wanted what's best for you and right now he couldn’t tell if that was Lando or not. But looking at the state of him, red, wet eyes, begging for his help, he wanted to believe Lando regretted everything and would do anything to prove he loved you.

“Okay, but I’m not letting you be forgiven easily, I want you to prove it,” Alex sighed, running his hands over his face. A feeling of simultaneous relief and guilt eating him alive.

Lando promised Alex over and over again, and in between each syllable, promising himself also that he would give you the world in apologies, and whatever happened he deserved it, but even if there was the slimmest chance you could forgive him, Lando would take it and cherish it.

Alex messaged you and you told him it was fine to bring Lando over, as long as he didn’t expect much, and so they turned up less than five minutes later. Alex left you both alone in the kitchen to sit with Lily in the living room after repeating countless times he was a shout away.

You almost broke down just seeing him but managed to keep it in. You didn’t want him to explain, you didn’t care to hear it at the moment, but as soon as Alex left he began spilling out apologies and trying to explain himself, which you quickly shut up.

“I want some space,” you sighed. You wanted Lando close but you wanted everything you felt for him gone first. You couldn’t believe he ever felt the same, not after that.

“Of course, I understand,” his voice broke as he stepped back, trying to show you he would do anything you said.

“Not like that, Lando. I mean it, I don’t think I can see you for a while.”

“Oh-” he said, “When can I see you again?”

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, this is my fault,” he sighed, clearly upset and looking at the ground, “I’ll go, I’ll see you soon.”

After he left, you broke down crying, debating your decision on if you handled it right. You already missed him, and still loved him, but you also didn’t want to see him. Alex explained the whole morning, and his perspective, giving you hope you could fix it with Lando, especially after Alex’s approval, which you trusted more than anything.

The next few times you saw him were at hangouts with your shared friends. You knew he’d be there as none of your friends would invite him unless you were completely sure you didn’t mind him there. He stayed away, but didn’t make it awkward to the people around you, and always gave you a shy smile when you caught his eye.

He didn’t try to text or call again, despite wanting to more than anything, and instead waited for you to make the first move whenever you were ready. You had missed him more than anything, in both an “I love him” and “he’s my best friend” way, and it was killing you from being away from him, especially after how well he listened to your instructions.

You were at a mutual friend's get-together, a small barbecue in a back garden when you decided it was time. You had been debating texting him but after seeing him, you decided you couldn’t wait.

He was standing alone in a corner beside a flower patch and some grass, drink in hand, and surveying everyone that was there when you walked over. He didn’t know how to greet you and so awkwardly moved his hands between going for a hug or a handshake. You laughed and hugged him, both of you holding on tightly, unhappy to let go.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered gently, looking down and playing with your fingers, slightly nervous to admit it to him after all this time.

“I’ve missed you too,” he grins, adding on, “So much,” with a quiet whisper.

“How’ve you been?” you asked, trying to make small talk before delving right in.

“Okay, I’ve not really done much. Races have been okay.”

“I saw,” you smiled, “You’ve done really well.”

“You watched?” he questioned, a little surprised. You met his eyes and nodded, explaining how you could never miss one.

“Do you want to talk inside?” you asked, heart pounding as you said it. He nodded immediately, without hesitation, and followed you in through the double glass doors into the kitchen, but only after picking out a daisy from the grass next to him and offering it out to you, causing both of you to grin.

He closed the doors behind you both, blocking out as much other noise as possible, ready for you to begin. “I want to know how you feel about this and about me,” you started, voice shaky.

“I’m sorry, I’m still so sorry. I love you and I want what’s best for you and I can’t even find an excuse, I was being stupid and thinking how you’d never want me. It was all nothing, you’re the only person that’s ever meant anything, I’m so sorry. I will do anything to fix this- anything.”

“Lan,” you let out a breath, “You still want me?”

“More than anything,” he grinned and you stepped forward to reach him, locking your arms around his neck.

Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as you pull his face down until his lips are almost touching yours. He was smiling so much you thought it might be impossible to kiss him but you pulled him into you anyway, finally kissing him again.

“Stop smiling,” you laughed, pulling away to say it before immediately kissing him again.

“What? Can I not be happy? I’m getting my girl back,” he pulled away, grinning harder, then trying to drag you back in, which was almost successful until you pulled away at the last second.

“I can barely kiss you like this and I’d really, really like to,” you giggled, tugging him back again to enjoy another impatient kiss.

Your hands were running all over his head, completely ruining his hair, but he didn’t care. His hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you impossibly close. When you finally parted he still kept you close, resting his forehead on yours.

“Are you sure you want this?” he questioned, his breath still heavy.

You kissed his cheek and looked straight into his eyes, “More than anything, I promise,” you paused for a moment, “But you’re going to have to grovel to repay all the lost time we’ve had.”

“I’m going to prove to you that I’m all in, that I want this more than I could possibly explain,” Lando promised, meaning every word. He was already planning out exactly what he wanted to do - he knew he had to work to become your official boyfriend, but he would do everything possible for you.

You just stared at him, showcasing the biggest smile you’ve ever had, eyes full of love, knowing you weren’t ever going to let each other go or even risk it again.

“God I love you,” he grinned, ignoring the fact he still hadn’t caught his breath and pulling you into another, more intimate, kiss.

taglist in reblogs

#lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #f1 x reader #lando norris smut #f1 fluff #f1 angst #lando norris blurb #lando norris f1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x you #formula one #f1 #f1 smut #f1 imagine #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lando norris x gn!reader #formula one angst #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 angst #formula one x reader

[flightyalrighty]

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36

Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic

Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.

A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:

The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).

It took two years to get to this point.

And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).

This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.

I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.

So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.

Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.

I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.

Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.

And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;

"Hey. You're gonna be alright."

Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.

Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."

Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.

So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.

I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.

I'm extremely grateful for all of you.

So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.

#infested sonic comic #sonic the hedgehog #tw blood #tw gore

[carajilloplz]

bad habit ✮⋆˙ joost klein

SMUT 18+ MDNI

warnings: smoking, alcohol consumption, w33d (just a little), lots of teasing omg it's ridiculous, making out, oral!fem receiving because joost is a MUNCH, unprotected p in v, choking kind of?, orgasm denial and overstimulation

i am so sorry

Du weißt, dass das eine schlechte Angewohnheit ist, oder? - You know that's a bad habit right?

Hast du Feuer - Got a lighter?

Inside the venue, the music was ridiculously loud. Your friend had dragged you to a show (Ski Aggu? You had no idea, you were just there to support) and it was a good show and pretty solid music, but not exactly what you would listen to on a daily basis. In the end you ended up enjoying it, loving the antics onstage. Your favorite was that one song, probably his most recognizable because you’d heard it out before, where a tall blond guy wearing a full-on dress shirt with a tie and some funky-looking glasses. 

The show was good, and since your friend had run into some acquaintances, you accepted your fate for the night and gestured to her that you were going out for a smoke. You’d had a few drinks already and just wanted to take a break from that and the overly loud music inside. Stepping outside, you took in the Berlin night cold and cursed yourself for only wearing a thin slip dress, at least covered by the oversized leather jacket with a million pockets. Curiously, somebody stepped out of the bar as well and you recognized him as the blond who was onstage earlier for that one song. 

“Du weißt, dass das eine schlechte Angewohnheit ist, oder?” He spoke, teasingly referring to the box of cigarettes in your hand as you rummaged through your pockets for a lighter.

“Hast du Feuer?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one.” he says, reaching in his pocket.

You scoffed, shaking your head at yourself. “Is my german actually that bad?”

The man laughs, exposing a set of very charming dimples and a crinkle in his eye hidden by his wide-rim tinted glasses. “No it’s not, you’re just drunk and very clearly not from here.” He reaches out his hand with the lighter in it, and as you go to grab it he snatches it back, smirking and giving you a challenging look. “And what do I get in return?”

You roll your eyes, reaching into your pocket. “Here, you can bum one off me.” The blond nods appreciatively as he grabs a cigarette from you and proceeds to light his own first. He then reaches out with the lighter to yours, holding it up to light your cigarette and you can feel his gaze on you. There was a significant height difference, so you had to crane your neck up quite a bit to speak to him. 

“Thank you…?” you say, prompting him to share his name, playing dumb because you already knew it. 

“Joost” he replies, exhaling smoke and looking down at you, very obviously devouring you with his eyes. Oh so that’s what he’s playing at. “And you are…?”

Immediately your demeanor changed because, hell, he’s quite hot and seemed pretty fun from what you’d seen of him on stage. Might as well. You told him your name and teasingly started inquiring about his stage presence. 

“So you’re friends with Aggu or something right?”

“Yeah,” he says, taking a drag and leaning his shoulder against the wall, towering over you. “We’ve been pretty tight since we were openers together once.” You nod understandingly, raising your eyebrows in the most subtly patronizing way to keep teasing him. He catches on. “Why, you listen to him?”

“No, not at all actually. My friends dragged me to this show.” you say, matter-of-factly “Lowkey I thought it would be kind of bad but I am pleasantly surprised.”

“Good,” He’s kind of shocked by your bluntness, but clearly intrigued. “What was your favorite song?”

“The one you sang with him.” You reply, finishing off your cigarette and dropping it to the ground and putting it off with your boot. “I’m going back in, you coming?”

Hurriedly, Joost takes a few last drags and follows you inside, lightly putting his hand on the small of your back as you led the way back to your friends.

“There you are, babe!” your friend replies, dropping the conversation she was having with an acquaintance. She leans closer to you, speaking into your ear over the loud music. “I see why you were gone and I’m not gonna get mad because he’s cute.”

You brushed her off with a wink and a laugh and casually turned back to Joost, “This is Joost, Joost this is my friend Lina that dragged me here.”

She waves, “Big fan.” and turns back to her other conversation. Silently you thanked her to yourself for getting the hint. You turn back to Joost, looking up at him and pointing accusingly.

“You owe me a drink for giving you one of my cigs.” you say, teasingly looking up at him with a smirk. You had to play his game, and at this point you felt like he was catching on too.

“Oh do I?” Joost replies, looking down at you challengingly through half lidded eyes and lightly licking his bottom lip. “You’d still have to owe me one back.”

“I can give you a kiss and we’ll be even.”

He nods, biting his cheek and turning to the bartender and signalling for two more of what he was drinking. Your drinks get served and you stand on your tippy toes, hand on his chest to lean into his ear to say ‘thank you’, and as you pull back he leans in but you quickly dodge him with a playful smirk. He’s very clearly into it and going in for the long run, so he followed you when you grabbed his hand and gestured towards the dancefloor. Even if Aggu’s show was over, the venue was still thumping with music.

Swaying your body rhythmically with the beat, Joost’s hands found themselves comfortably settled on your waist, slowly reaching towards your ass and pulling you closer like that. You kept going though, turning around and staying close to his body, making a point of teasingly moving your hips against him, feeling the light graze of his crotch against you.

This set him off the edge and he kept one of his hands firmly on your hip and reached the other to splay his arm across your shoulders in a light headlock to pull you closer. “And when can we get even?” He says into your ear, his voice an almost growl dripping with desire.

You turn around and look him wantonly in the eyes before reaching to give him a kiss. Joost kisses back firmly, leaning down a little to match you and reaching up his hand to cup your jaw. Immediately in that drunken kiss, you tangle your hand into his hair, complimenting the clashing of teeth and the slow roll of Joost’s tongue in your mouth. You continue to kiss, sloppily grabbing at each other, his hand snaking to grab at your neck and you reaching up to snake your arms around his shoulders as he pulled you closer. He suddenly stopped. 

“Liefde, I have to take you home.” Joost pants, cheeks red and flustered from your passionate kiss. “You’re driving me insane.”

You give him a teasing look. “Look at you, all direct. Don’t seem like the type.”

He scoffs, leaning down towards your ear— “If I weren’t direct I wouldn’t be able to tell you that the though of you makes me hard and I want my head between your legs as soon as possible.”

This comment shuts you up completely, shooting a bolt of electricity down your spine and the mere idea of Joost between your legs makes you squirm pleasurably. You nod, looking up to him still slightly in shock.

“Let’s go to mine, I’m two blocks away and I’ve got weed.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The walk back home for the two of you was excruciatingly long because you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You walked with your hand slipped in the back pocket of Joost’s jeans, and he kept looking down at you as you took another drag from your cigarette. He couldn’t help himself, really, and he pressed you against the nearest wall and gave you a long, deep kiss. You both grabbed at each other as you passionately made out against the wall of some random building on the way to your house. Romantic, huh?

Somehow, you made to your apartment and you discarded your leather jacket at the entrance. This left you in a very thin, almost transparent silk slip that gave Joost a perfect view of the outline of your body behind you, the dress almost translucent because of the light. 

You plopped onto your couch, reaching for the bong on your coffee table as Joost sat next to you. Taking one or two hits, you passed it onto him as you analyzed his face in a different light than where you were before. His eyes were a dashing color blue and his blonde hair was the just right amount of tousled, falling onto his defined face perfectly.

He didn’t finish putting the bong down on your coffee table before you straddled him, looking onto his eyes, almost level to you because of his height, and gave him a profound kiss. His large hands settled on your ass, encouraging you to move your hips backwards and forwards, prompting him to grind back up into you. You continued like this for a while, tongues clashing and hands grabbing at each other, clouded by the substances running through your systems. You worked on loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as you continued your kiss, pushing it down and off his body. Joost thought you looked positively angelic as you pulled away, connected still to him with a string of saliva and focusing on rubbing your tangibly wet pussy on his hard crotch. 

Suddenly Joost grabs you from above him and turns you around to lay you on the couch, immediately putting his weight on you and passionately continued your kiss. You felt his bulge on you, hard from all the anticipation and teasing you even more as he continued to slip his tongue in your mouth. He snakes his hand down your side, rreaching down to your thigh and grabbing all over it, clearly enjoying the plush of your soft skin. Slowly, he begins reaching up towards your slip, moving it up slightly so you are more exposed.

“No underwear?” He asks through your kisses, snickering as you whine slightly because of the subjection he’s putting you in. Joost continues, smoothly and teasingly moving his hand on your waist, moving down to your leg, wrapped around him, and reaching up to your ass and giving it a slap. This sends a jolt through your body, extremely turned on but surprised at his harshness. You let out a moan and pulled him even closer. 

“You liked that?” You moan in approval as he begins moving his hand between your thighs and breaks the kiss to start kissing your neck. Joost was literally leaving you speechles with his touches, making you a writhing, whining mess under him. He brings you up towards him to slip the straps of your dress down your shoulders and begins kissing down your chest, making you whine as he starts going lower and lower. Bringing his hand towards your pussy, he slowly traces his fingers up your slick folds until he gets to your clit. He starts to draw small circles with his thumb on the bundle of nerves, sending shocks through your body and making your back arch, bringing you closer to him. 

As he continues to teasingly and painfully slowly move lower, you tangle your hands in his messy blonde hair. He finally reaches your throbbing pussy, but not even making a single movement that would indicate he would do anything yet with it, focusing on kissing your thighs.

“Fuck Joost, please do something” you moan, arching your back and expecting him to do something, but he just stops his kisses and puts more pressure on your clit. At this rate, you felt like you were coming closer and closer without him doing that much purely from the teasing.

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Please eat me out Joost, stop being such a fucking tease.” You reply through another moan, pulling at his hair to get closer.

“Ask nicely and I’ll do it.” He replies, menacingly pressing his thumb even more and looking up at you expectantly. “I want you to beg.”

That alone sent you into a moaning mess, immediately submitting to his touch. “Joost please please eat me out, I need you. Please do something, I can’t stand it.”

He instantly puts his lips to your pussy, lapping at your clit and putting one, two fingers in, hitting just the right spot, making you whimper out when combined with the feeling on your clit. Joost was clearly enjoying himself down there, running his tongue in all the right places and pumping his fingers in and out of you at a rough but pleasurable pace. You felt the familiar build of pressure in you, heightening your sensitivity to every touch and lick. 

“Fuck Joost keep going please” You moan, pulling at his hair and trying to keep your legs from shaking. “I’m gonna come.”

He immediately takes his mouth off of your pussy and climbs back up to your level, leaving you confused  and overstimulated from the lack of touch. He brings his hand up to your neck and grabs you by your jaw to look directly at him.

“You don’t cum until I say so.”

Joost quickly reaches down to unbuckle his belt as he continues kissing you. He was impossibly hard, and you helped him unbutton his jeans and reaching down to palm him through his underwear. He immediately let out a moan of relief at the loss of pressure when he pushed off his jeans, grinding into your hand as you both moaned at the buildup of anticipation. You were still put off from your orgasm and he was ready to shamelessly start fucking you, so you were both clearly on the same page when you reached down to pull down his underwear and release his hard cock. He was huge, you could feel it from making out earlier but seeing it at it’s full length you felt scared but also extremely turned on.

Through moans and clawing at each other, he grabbed his cock and quickly found his way towards your entrance, nudging the head of his cock and rubbing it against your hole.

“Tell me if you can’t take it,” he pants, and you were flattered by the concern but you knew better.

“Just put it in Joost, I need you inside of me.”

This set him off. He instantly started pushing himself inside you with a groan, bottoming out easily because of how wet you are. Joost looked at you to see if you were okay, and continued once you let out a moan and looked up at him. He moved at a painfully slow but strong pace in the beginning as you adjusted to his size, and once you started bringing him closer, he sped up his pace. 

Both of you a mess of moans and groans, you continued to angle yourself towards his pounding thrusts, making him groan more as you started clawing at his back. You felt a mix of pain and pleasure as you felt his length inside you, building up the pressure in your belly once more, this time more intensely. He was bottoming out completely with each thrust now, letting out garbled curses in Dutch and pounding into you as you moaned out. 

“Joost, please can I come.”

“Yes you can schatje, come for me.”

Instantly, you gushed all over his cock, arching your back and seeing stars. You stayed in that state for a minute, relieved from the overstimulation, but he didn’t stop his thrusts. 

“I want you to come again, baby. C’mon get on top” he says, bringing you up as he sat up on the couch. Although you were blissed out from your orgasm, you still couldn’t help but be entranced by his orders, so you gave him a kiss as you straddled him, sinking onto his cock with a whimper. He was the one that continued the pace, hands on your ass, moving your hips back and forth and getting himself off with you. 

You were a mess at this point-- your hair was all tangled and you were a flustered mess full of scratches and one or two hickeys, just like him. He placed a firm slap on your ass, which made your dripping cunt clench around him and made him let out a loud groan as he thrust up against you again. 

“Fuck schatje you feel so good on me.” he groans, continuing to bounce you up and down. Joost loved the way you looked on top of him, a flustered, moaning mess that did everything to reach that second orgasm that he felt was close for you. That pleasurable pressure was growing in you again, and your overstimulation was driving you crazy. You loved the feeling of Joost’s cock inside of you, and in this position it was just hitting the right spot every time.

Joost eventually got sloppier, and started moaning harder, groaning your name hotly in your ear, which combined with his hands on you drove you closer and closer towards your orgasm. 

“Can I come inside you?” he asks, “I’m close liefde, fuck.” You moan at the mere thought.

“Please come inside me Joost I’m so close.” You moan, intensifying your movements for a moment, Joost moving your hips harder, which set you off into a mess of gasps and whimpers, leaving you without air as you felt the flash of your second orgasm. 

Your orgasm set off Joost too, coming at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, and with a deep groan of your name, spilled inside of you. The both of you stayed there for a moment, panting as he leant his head against the back of the couch looking up at you. You looked divine, a blushing, blissed out mess and he was sure he wanted to have that view again. You leant against him, slumping back and putting your head on your shoulder. 

Peppering kisses along your shoulder, he sighed. “Fuck smoking, I don’t know how I’m going to quit you now. ”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

a/n: thank you for coming to my tedtalk. i needed to get that out of my system. i'm like speechless at myself because of how horny this is.

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein smut #smut

[cutielando]

Hey I absolutely love your writing it’s amazing!!!!!

I really loved your lando fix where he loved to see you train and workout in the gym I was wondering if you would do it for Charles leclerc pleaseee if not that’s totally fine ily and your fics

a/n: here you go, honey!!! i'm sorry it's a little shorter but this was the best i could do hahah

warnings: implied active and gym rat reader, a lot of working out in a way

♡♡♡♡♡

Charles had always been athletic, ever since he could remember. He had to, building up the neck muscle and tolerance needed to be able to sustain the force he felt every time he would get into the car, and over the years he had come to love working out.

Even though his day-to-day routine consisted of working out constantly, he would never ask his partner to exercise as actively or hardcore as he did.

He didn’t believe he should have a say in how someone else lived their life.

But ever since he met you and discovered your love for a healthy lifestyle and the passion that you held for exercising, he honestly felt like he had hit the jackpot. 

He loved sharing his love and passion for working out with you, aligning his workout times with yours just so you could be with him during every single one. It had become a habit of yours, your own little ritual giving you even more time to bond.

However, running with you was, by far, his favorite way to exercise. Getting to see so many beautiful views all around Monaco or Italy, depending where you were at the moment, being able to bask in the serenity of getting to share those beautiful moments with you.

Such an example was your current outing in the beautiful Monte Carlo, hiking through the mountains with Charles and Andrea. 

However, Charles had been slacking more than usual, always being steps behind you and in no hurry whatsoever.

“Charles, please stop staring at Y/N’s ass, we’re never going to make it back home in time if you keep this up” Andrea said once he had caught the driver falling behind you just to stare up at your behind.

You turned around and caught your boyfriend ogling your behind with no shame, staring up at you with wide eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Charles! We talked about this” you said in a hushed tone, swatting him on the arm.

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about” he shrugged his shoulders and suddenly picked up the pace, walking in front of both you and Andrea all of a sudden.

You and his trainer shared a look, laughing before you followed him up the trail.

It took you a while to reach the intended target of the day, having to make multiple stops because Charles just couldn’t help staring at you, but you had made it in the end.

When you guys returned home and parted ways with Andrea, Charles was ready to take a shower and get into bed to cuddle you, but he wasn’t expecting you to have totally different plans.

“What do you mean by working out? Mon coeur, we just hiked the entire day, all we need to do right now is shower and cuddle” he argued, following you around as you prepared your bag to go downstairs in the gym for a quick session.

Working out in the evenings always helped you unload from the day, get in touch with yourself after a long day and just relax altogether. And even though Charles was right, you couldn’t ignore the feeling of longing when you thought about skipping a workout session.

“Baby, you know how important evening workouts are for me. I can’t sleep if I don’t work out at least a little bit” you argued back, chuckling at the sound of his stomps and huffs as he followed you to the front door. 

“Aren’t you tired, though? We’ve been outside all day, it hasn’t exactly been a chill activity” he said, still hoping to convince you to just get in the shower with him.

“Not really, no. If anything, I have way more energy and adrenaline to burn off right now” you said, putting on your shoes.

Charles sighed, realizing he didn’t stand a chance in convincing you to stay home. Instead of going about his business by himself, he picked up his shoes and put them on, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“What are you doing?” you asked, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“I’m joining you. I don’t want to shower without you, so I’m going to come and watch you do your thing because I’m way too tired to do anything” he explained, opening the door for you and locking it on your way out.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you secretly loved it whenever he came with you to the gym. Even if he didn’t do anything, you liked just having him there with you, cheering you on so to speak.

When you got to the gym, you were feeling a little relieved that there was nobody left at that hour. You preferred when it was just the two of you, finally being able to take a break from your busy life and just bask in the feeling of sharing the same love for something.

“I’m just gonna run on the treadmill a little so I can burn some energy and then we can go” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he took your bag from you and sat down on a bench nearest to you.

He settled for playing around on his phone for a while, sneaking glances at you every now and then. He even snapped a picture of you which he proceeded to post on his story, boasting about how hot his girlfriend was.

And as he sat there, your eyes finding his every now and then, he realized just how lucky he was to have you by his side.

He won in life.

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#imagines #oneshots #fanfiction #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc ferrari #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x you #cl16 one shot

[lovely-peace]

Lovely?

Summary: You don't like the marauders. You don't talk and don't even look at them. But as you visit your friend in the hospital wing you encounter a certain boy with brown hair, scars and this lovely eyes.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: Low self esteem, past bullying?, This is no bully! Marauders fic!!

Part 1

"Hey, do you want to study for Transfiguration together?"

A normal day. It should have been. But ever since I was asked who I would date, I've been hearing giggles and whispers. And now James is standing in front of Amy and me. Ready to finish something. I don't know what yet, but it's going to hurt.

Because it will be a joke of theirs.

"Why should we?" I go straight on the offensive. Leave fears behind and intimidate them.

Sirius, who was standing behind James, looked to the side to stifle a laugh. That kind of upset me.

"Well, in the last lesson you had... We thought we could help each other."

Oh. My mistake. That they laughed about. Learning. Together. Actually, they just want to smile at my stupidity. SMILE.

"Amy doesn't even have Transfiguration." I hissed, looking the boy in front of me in the eye for the first time. He looked almost uncomfortable.

This boy I rode to Hogwarts with in the same wagon. And who now feels too cool to remember my name. I'm just a joke that you crack a few times and then forget.

"Which is why, unfortunately, I have to say goodbye and go upstairs. Important subjects are waiting for me!" Amy tapped my shoulder and I was about to thank her inwardly until- "That's why I'm leaving this sweetie here with you, okay?"

Peter looked up from his book for the first time. He was sitting on the couch by the fire.

In the common room of Gryffindor, it was not uncommon for people to fight over this space. Peter snatched it early enough so that Remus, who looked very ill that morning, just sat on the chair at the table next to it.

Peter was probably just as disappointed that Amy left as I was, if I interpreted his expression correctly.

"Amy," I whispered to her, "what are you doing?"

She raised her eyebrows, rolled her eyes and sighed briefly. And I understood. She wanted me to give them a chance.

I looked at her with begging eyes and screamed at her in my mind not to leave me here alone.

"So...?" James stood there like a boy waiting for his mother's permission.

And I wasn't going to give it to him.

"Sorry, Jarry, but I was planning on studying for other subjects with Amy today. So if you'll excuse us." What did I just say?

"Oo-," James looked to his friends while Sirius laughed out loud, "-okay?"

I didn't look at Amy and just stomped faree upstairs to our room.

Amy followed me, but not without letting out a sigh of disappointment.

~~

"What was that about?" My voice was a little louder than usual. "I thought we agreed that we didn't like the four of them?"

Amy groaned and threw herself on her bed. "I never said that. I meant that they can be assholes sometimes, that's all."

"But they just were assholes?"

I also sat down on my bed and looked out of the window. The Hufflepuff team was playing quidditch.

"How were they assholes in any way, please? James just asked us if we wanted to study with them in the common room."

I could hear Amy starting to get angry.

"You know what he meant. He only asked because I said something completely stupid in Transfiguration the day before yesterday and everyone had a laugh. And now he wanted to hear more of it."

Amy had gone quiet. Then she snorted loudly. "Jesus Christ."

"What?!" As I turned around, two piercing eyes looked into me.

"Can you please stop painting the devil on the wall for once? You sound worse than Cassandra!"

Now I snorted.

But Amy wasn't finished yet. "You're so afraid of being ridiculed that you're becoming an asshole yourself!"

The sun was setting. And the moon slowly rose.

"Why are you so sure that the four of them are making fun of you?"

I hated that tears were welling up in my eyes. "That's how it always is! Suddenly all these people are nice to you, who didn't even know who you were before, to lure you into safety, but in reality they're blaspheming and laughing at you. It's always like that!"

Amy shook her head.

"No, it's just always like that in your head. There's a chance that these people just want to get to know you better."

Amy took her DADA textbook and turned to the other wall. "To exclude this opportunity from the outset is not only a mistake, but also a missed opportunity to make new friends."

I looked up at the full moon. I felt as if he was out there suffering with me.

You understand me, don't you?

Probably not.

~~

The next morning, Amy was still mad at me. I couldn't blame her. What I said already sounded pathetic.

But so far it had always been the truth.

It was unusually quiet at breakfast. Amy ate almost nothing and hurried to her tray.

We had different subjects at the beginning of the day, but at lunch Amy was nowhere to be seen. There were whispers again and I wanted to scream.

And it was only in charms that I was told she had been taken to the hospital wing. 

That was not uncommon for Amy. Amy was very fragile. Amy always put on a very strong front, also to help me. But the truth was that stress really affected her and at one point she almost fell over sick.

Was it because of our argument? I don't know. But I certainly felt guilty.

~~

After class, I hurried to the hospital wing and let myself be led to her bed.

She looked almost peaceful as she slept. I carefully sat down next to her and took her hand. She was sweaty and cool at the same time.

Madam Pomfrey explained to me that Amy had been under a lot of stress lately and had eaten something bad. Then she went to the next bed and talked with the visitors there.

Visitors with... familiar voices?!

"Oh, please, you can't expect us to just leave him here alone?" Was that Sirius?

"Yes, I must. You know he needs his rest now. So shoo." Madam Pomfrey sounded a bit annoyed.

"We can stay here quietly!" That was James. Ironically loud.

"No, Mr. Potter, you cannot. So, gentlemen. Out!"

I saw out of the corner of my eye how Madam Pomfrey shooed several people outside. But who was behind the curtain of the bed? Whom were they visiting?

The curtain didn't cover the whole bed. In fact, it was only drawn on my side. Quietly, I got up and tried to get a quick look at the person. I took a cautious step to the side and—

There layed Remus. A pretty battered Remus, wrapped in bandages.

Suddenly, the curtain was pulled back and I stood there as if caught red-handed.

Remus looked at me in surprise. His look was somehow different than usual and I imagined he took a deep breath before he spoke.

"Hi." ... "Hi."

His body was even worse wrapped up than I had seen from the side. He was sitting upright and his upper body was full of bandages. His face also had scratches but his eyes were still so deep-

I stared at him. For far too long.

I quickly sat down next to Amy, who was still asleep.

Remus cleared his throat. "Is Amy very unwell?"

Somehow I wasn't prepared for a conversation with him. Not with one of the four. Not with Remus.

"According to Madam Pomfrey, it's just stress. She just needs to get some rest and then she should feel better." I was almost whispering, my voice was so quiet. Nothing compared to yesterday.

"That's good. I hope she gets better soon. Has anything bad happened?" I looked up at him. His eyes were so gentle, as if he really cared. "Something that's really stressing her out?"

When he noticed my look, he looked away. To my disappointment. "But actually, it's none of my business-"

"We had a fight." Why did I tell him that? "I worried her again."

I looked at Amy. Her face wasn't quite so pale and her hand, which I was holding, wasn't quite so sweaty.

"Oh." Remus' voice was very quiet. As if he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. As if he was worried to say the wrong thing.

"And why are you lying here? What happened to you?" It was only when I looked at him that I realized the question was a bit rude.

"If you want to tell me," I added.

He just sighed and suddenly looked so far away. "It was an accident."

I waited for him to tell me more. He didn't.

It stayed quiet between us for a long time. I could feel his gaze from the side, but somehow it didn't bother me a bit. I almost felt safe.

Suddenly he asked me: "Why did you argue?"

I looked into his eyes and almost wanted to tell him everything. I looked at Amy and borrowed her words. "I was an asshole."

He tilted his head and smiled cautiously. "Somehow I can't imagine that."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"Why?"

"Well, you... It's not like you at all."

I continued to look at him. He continued to look at me.

"What do you mean?"

"You're usually so... Lovely."

Lovely? He saying I was lovely?

I had to laugh. He looked away.

"Me? You don't know me then." I giggled softly. "Besides, anyone can be an asshole, no matter how sweet the person still is."

He looked outside. The moon was up. He had that look again. "Yeah, I guess you're right about that."

It was quiet again after that. I heard soft footsteps outside and my anxiety wanted me to leave. So I stood up and was about to say goodbye to Remus as he-

"I want to know."

"What?"

He suddenly looked into my eyes so intensely that I felt dizzy.

"I want to know you properly."

I didn't know what to say and just looked at him as he continued.

"I want to know what goes through your mind when you see me us."

His gaze moved away from me. "I want to know why you hate us so much."

My whole world suddenly spun and I was in the middle of it. What was he saying? What did he mean, why was he even talking to me? What was going on here, why was he even here? And why did he call me lovely? What did he mean?

I wanted to say something. Something about... What actually?

Somehow I couldn't get anything out of me and was stuck in this spiral of trying to say something and figure out what to say. I opened my mouth, as-

"Remus, we're here!" James' voice tried to sound quiet but was unmistakable. Just like the footsteps of the two boys walking towards his bed.

When I saw them, so many things came back to me. Why I didn't talk to Remus.

"Are you feeling better? Remus -" Sirius faltered when he saw me. He looked between me and Remus and then grinned at me.

"Oh hello."

He turned to James now and 'whispered' to him. "Prongs, let's go and give these two some time to themselves-"

Remus cleared his throat and pointed at Amy who was lying next to me. Sirius fell silent.

"I'd better go now." I said in a very quiet voice again. James and Sirius even left me alone, but I heard their voices before I closed the door behind me.

"So, did she talk to you?" "What was going on with her?" "Is there something-"

The door slammed behind me and my head seemed to explode with questions.

#marauders era #marauders #the marauders #harry potter #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin angst

[zaldritzosrose]

Can't Stay Away (Feyd-Rautha x Princess!Reader)

Summary: Second daughter of the Emperor and you were well used to being ignored in favour of your sister. That was, until you met Feyd-Rautha, nephew to the Harkonnen Baron. A tourney of old, bringing back the traditions of champions and favours brought him to your side - but how close would he stay?

TW: Minors DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, mild mentions of neglect towards reader (ignored in favour of Irulan), Feyd being a flirt, hot and heavy making out, fingering, lashings of sexual tension.

I've taken a couple of liberties with the veils the Bene Gesserit/Irulan seem to wear - making it an honour to see a Sister/Princess' face and given meaning to the paint on Feyd before the arena...because why not it's my story!

(There will be a part 2...maybe 3...I have no self control)

Words: 3508

THANK YOU to @tumblin-theworldaway for not only being patient over this but for listening to my months of related brain rot! I love you!

Being second to the Imperial heir had not always felt like a task. As a child, you did not mind being sent off to other tasks while Irulan was coached in the ways of an Empress. Your father had you both trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, and as a child it made you feel incredibly important. Being at the Reverend Mother’s side, and at times the only time you were ever praised for something you had achieved.

But the older you got, the more the feeling of being ignored crept in. Men would seek out Irulan's favour, not yours. Visitors would spend hours speaking to the elder princess before speaking to you. Irulan was the interesting one. She was heir, it made sense for her to be the one they wished to gain the favour of.

Second daughter, second best. You understood it, deep down, but that did not stop the hurt it caused.

Despite this, you always accompanied your father and sister on the planetary tours, following along as the Emperor would visit all his people and be lavished with grand feasts and parties as a welcome. Every House from Arrakis to Zanovar were granted a visit from their Emperor, some were happier about it than others.

Despite the tensions on Arrakis, the word of the ‘Messiah’ reaching the Emperor’s ears and being ignored and the rumours that the Emperor had ordered the end of House Atreides, the Imperial Tours continued.

Giedi Prime was the next stop. The home of the Harkonnens. You had heard of the Harkonnens. Fearsome warriors. Terrifying. Bloodthirsty. Brutal. In all honesty, they had fascinated you for the longest time. The manipulations that led to their rise. Their bloodstained history with House Atreides. You had read as much as you had been able to find.

And their welcome? A tournament, a battle of strength and brutality to impress their Emperor. Harking back to days of old when knights would compete in feats of battle prowess to show off. Men from all the Great Houses and more came to compete, including Feyd-Rautha. The Baron's nephew did not hesitate to volunteer to represent his people in something so prestigious.

The Imperial Ship landed and you, your sister and the Emperor were quickly greeted by the Baron and his nephews. You stood to your father’s left, Irulan at his right. Feyd’s eyes stayed on you, though you had not noticed yet. Trailing from the gold and pearl veil over your face, down to the matching white lace and gold dress that both clung and flowed over your body perfectly. He glanced briefly at Irulan, her silver and chainmail contrasting you, but his eyes ultimately returned to you.

"Your Imperial Graces, may I introduce my nephews," the Baron began, gesturing first to his elder nephew and then the younger as he spoke.

"Beast-Rabban and Feyd-Rautha."

Both men bowed, following their uncle's lead. First to the Emperor, then Irulan and then you. The order of importance seemed clear, as usual. But as his head raised, Feyd met your gaze and held it. Cool blue eyes boring into yours and you could not look away.

Your father nodded his head in thanks as did Irulan, but you...

You still stared at Feyd. Something about him, the way he held your gaze. The faint smirk forming on his lips. You could not do anything but stare.

His smile widened, black painted teeth on show as he stepped forward and taking your hand in his, a gesture that shocked even you. His lips found the back of it, pressing a surprisingly gentle but lingering kiss to your skin. No one ever focused on you like this, not when you stood by Irulan. It was something you had gotten quite accustomed to.

But the rough scratch of his fingers around yours, the heat of his lips on your skin, was enough to have you blushing. Then he spoke. His voice low, sending a shiver down your spine.

"A pleasure to meet you, princess."

The Emperor and the Baron led you, Irulan and the Baron’s nephews back inside the Harkonnen fortress. Despite trying not to, your focus always seemed to return to Feyd. The way he moved with confidence, the small glances he gave you with that smirk still on his lips.

Irulan was at your father’s side, as usual. Rabban walked beside the Baron. Which left you and Feyd behind that line. You were not purposely walking at his side, but you soon noticed that Feyd had fallen into step with you. Slowing his pace to match yours.

You kept your gaze forward, but you could feel his eyes on you. Like a predator and you were no more than prey. You knew you would be the one to break the silence before Feyd did.

“Are you looking forward to the tournament, Feyd?” You asked, glancing to the side to see him, as expected, staring at you as he walked.

Feyd hummed low in response before answering. You began to wonder how he was being so mindful of where he was going, whilst keeping his eyes on you.

“A fight is always welcome, princess. Are you excited for it?”

You did not answer immediately. No answer you gave, you felt, was ever interesting enough. Or at least, not in your past experiences. But, to your surprise, Feyd seemed genuinely interested.

“I am intrigued, to say the least. It is not often a House welcomes us with such an event.”

Feyd only nodded, before holding out his hand to stop you moving further forward. It was only then that you noticed you had reached the doors to the Harkonnen fortress. You had been so distracted by the man beside you, you had ignored your surroundings.

“After you, princess,” Feyd offered, holding out an arm to allow you to walk ahead.

You walked on, hearing Feyd’s boots against the floor behind you. Your father, sister and the Baron and his nephew were ahead of you. And your father had not looked back once to check on you, something you were well used to. But Feyd had noticed too.

His head tilted in curiosity but said nothing on the topic. He followed you inside, eyes glancing occasionally between you and your father, noticing the seemingly longing look you held. As the Baron led the Emperor and Irulan into the dining hall, you seemed to hang back, like you were waiting for permission to follow them.

When that did not come, you folded your hands before you and turned from the door.

“Are you not joining them?” Feyd asked, genuinely surprised at the situation.

Your head hung low, and you simply shook it.

“Not if I am not invited. Irulan is heir, not I,” You said simply and began walking away without a second glance.

You assumed Feyd would join his uncle and brother. But the sound of footsteps behind you told you otherwise. You did not look back as you walked, though in truth, you had no idea where you were walking to. You simply wished to be away. Feyd followed silently, only interfering when he felt the need to steer you somewhere specific.

“Princess, follow me, I have somewhere more comfortable you could wait over walking the halls?”

Feyd was not sure why, but he felt the need to be at your side. A strange draw that seemed to tug at his gut and keep him at your side. He was a man of pleasure, or so most people said. He held little care for the feelings of others.

Yet with you, he wanted to know. No, he needed to know. To know what bothered you. To know why your eyes dipped to the floor after looking at your father and sister. Why you seemed surprised from the moment he paid you attention upon your arrival. He was curious as to why you seemed to try to hide your presence at any given moment.

But he said nothing. He would not even know where to begin if he wanted to. Instead, he walked in silence, leading you to a wide balcony that looked out on to the expanse of Giedi Prime.

You took your seat and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence until you were called by one of your father’s attendants.

You listened politely as you walked beside your sister, Irulan’s arm linked with yours this time as you followed your father and the Baron towards the arena. Irulan talked on about how the tournament would work, that you, her and some other noble ladies from the Houses would choose their own champion to fight the tournament in their name.

It reminded you of the tourneys of old. Where knights fought for princesses and ladies to win favour. You had read so many stories, fairytales of times that were now a faraway memory. The idea fascinated you as much as the Harkonnens did. You were about to ask Irulan more, when your father turned to speak. To both of you, for once.

“My daughters, you will allow the ladies from the Great Houses to choose their champions, then you will choose.”

That confused you both, but you had little choice but to agree. He was the Emperor first, your father second.

You watched warriors from each Great House and some minor Houses line up before you, Irulan and the other gathered ladies with interest. And you could not hide your smile when Feyd stepped forward and joined them.

One by one, champions were picked. Irulan chose first out of the two of you, not surprisingly choosing a Corrino soldier as her champion. There were more warriors than ladies to choose, and Feyd remained in those waiting. That surprised you. He was known for his fighting ability, so you did not understand why he had not been chosen. Which only solidified your own choice.

“Princess, your choice of champion please?” the Harkonnen announcer asked, gesturing to the men before you.

Purely for the suspense, you paused before answering. Mere seconds, allowing you to enjoy the small amount of attention focused solely on you.

“I choose Feyd-Rautha.”

Everyone looked shocked, including your father and sister. Everyone, but Feyd. His smirk wide as he stepped forward, taking your hand as he had when you arrived. Eyes locked to yours as he pressed his lips to your knuckles.

“I shall win well for you, my princess.”

You were not sure if it was traditional, but Feyd had asked you to see him before the tournament. A guard led you silently to a round chamber, with only a black stone table in the centre, holding weapons of different kinds. You stood out so starkly against the black stone, the faint lights making the pearls on your veil shimmer ever so slightly.

Feyd was stood in the centre, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks you realised he wore only an intricately wrapped loin cloth.

“Princess, I appreciate you agreeing to come,” Feyd called as he strode to your side.

He smirked as he watched you avert your gaze from his bare chest. In his hand, he held a bowl of what looked like black paint. It was only when he tapped the stone bowl did your eyes find it. You looked back at him curiously.

“You are my champion, it would be rude not to,” you said softly, your eyes still looking at the bowl.

It was only then that you noticed there was no one else in the room. Something that seemed extremely unusual.

“Do you normally prepare for a fight alone?” you asked, eyes flitting around the room and back to him, now trained solely on his face.

Feyd chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that you found yourself wanting to hear again.

“No, usually I am surrounded by servants and guards. But I thought I would try something different today. It’s a special day after all.”

He held the bowl up, tipping it slightly to move the paint. Your eyes watched it with interest, it slowly dawning on you what it was for. You had read up on the Harkonnens and Giedi Prime before you arrived, there was more lore to research than you had anticipated. One thing, now, came to your mind.

“Am I to paint you, Feyd?”

That earned you another chuckle. Though Feyd was actually quite surprised you knew of any Harkonnen traditions.

“I thought it would be interesting, to prepare your champion for battle, hmm?” he asked, holding the bowl out to you, careful however not to get the ink black liquid on your white dress.

You nodded, confusing him when you turned away from him. But what you did next, was not what he expected. Slowly, you lifted the veil that had covered your face since your arrival. Finally revealing your full appearance to him.

And you were beautiful.

“Then I suppose it is only fair I let you look at me while I do so.”

What Feyd did not realise, was the importance of what seemed like a small gesture. Almost all those trained by the Bene Gesserit veiled themselves in some way. The Princesses most of all. But Feyd knew even now, he was being honoured by you.

“Thank you, princess.” Was all he could manage, any words he said would never be quite enough, he felt.

You returned to his side, only now looking down at the full form of him. Thick muscle covered him from shoulder and down. A body sculpted for war, it seemed. And it was now a body that would fight in your name.

Feyd held out the bowl, watching with curious eyes as you took it and moved to stand at his back. He opened his mouth to instruct you but was stopped by the cold sensation of paint on his skin. You felt him stiffen a little and continued to paint as you explained.

“I have done my research before coming here. My father always tells me it is best to know our hosts,” you said simply, as if that should be enough to explain why you so easily began painting him.

He said nothing as you finished his back, the feeling of the paint drying telling him where you had painted each square and line. It fascinated him that you had so quickly learned the symbols necessary.

But when you moved to his front, he felt a wave of anticipation run through him. Tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he waited for you to begin. He could feel the warmth of your hands more intensely now he could see you.

You started on his chest, painting the four thick lines on his pectorals first. He watched the concentration on your face, the way your teeth gently nibbled your lower lip as your made sure every stroke was perfect.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you did not dare look up. The whole situation was intimate enough, without meeting his gaze. Feyd heard the soft breath you took to prepare yourself as you moved lower, pausing only briefly before you began to paint his stomach.

“Do you really believe these help you?” you suddenly asked, as though distracting yourself from the path your fingers took over the ridges of hid abdominals.

Feyd’s jaw clenched at the gentleness of your touch, the feeling sending goosebumps over his pale skin. He did his best to concentrate on answering your question about the symbols.

“It is the belief in them that makes them important, so yes, I do.”

You hummed in response, and Feyd’s breath caught in his throat when you began to kneel as your painted nearer his hips.

The tension in the air was thick. No sounds in the room except the scrape of your fingers against the bowl and the soft puffs of your combined breathing. Feyd tried his best to concentrate solely on the paint being smeared on his skin, but having you so close had desire settling in his belly.

Soon, you were done.

“There, I hope I have done a good enough job…” Feyd smiled at the mix of hope and pride in your eyes. But when you moved to take your hand away from his skin, he grabbed it quickly. His body acting on instinct and the words leaving him before his brain could control them.

“Would I be too forward in asking for a kiss, princess. For luck?”

You were struck silent by the question, but an aching part of you began urging you to allow him one kiss. No harm could come from it, right?

Tentatively, you stepped forward after setting bowl down on a table nearby. You pressed your lips softly to his cheek, letting them linger for mere seconds. But that was not what Feyd wanted.

You had barely stepped back before his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. He revelled in the small squeak of surprise that left you and he appreciated the fact you were not trying to push him away.

Your face was mere inches from his as his hand moved to cup your cheek, tilting your head up to his as he pressed him plump lips to yours. The feeling was electric the moment your lips met, your own hand gripping the back of his neck. Not caring for the paint that was now smeared down the skin there.

You pressed yourself harder against him, letting your body mould to his as he deepened the kiss. Tongue swiping against the flesh of your lip, asking for entry which you happily granted. The moment his tongue found yours, Feyd was like a man possessed. Gripping your face tighter as your tongue soon surrendered to his, tangling together in a clash of teeth.

The paint on his body, barely dried, smeared against your dress but you could not have cared less. Your only thoughts were Feyd. The feel of his arm on your waist and hand on your face. The taste of him, combined with the black paint on his teeth. You were entirely intoxicated by him.

You were not sure when he had backed you towards the table, but you did not stop him when he lifted you quickly on to it. There was something so delicious about the danger of the whole situation. While realistically, you barely knew him, you could feel your body surrendering to every kiss and touch. The very fibres of you desperate to feel more of him already.

Feyd groaned into your mouth when you made space for him to slip between your legs, your dress parting either side to accommodate the movement. His hands took purchase your thighs while yours found his shoulders. Your paint-stained fingers leaving fingerprints all over his alabaster skin.

The room felt like it had heated as his lips began to trail down your jaw and to your neck, following a path until he reached the swell of your breasts, just visible with the cut of your dress. His hands kneading the flesh of your thighs, the combination forcing breathy moans to slip from your lips.

Feyd revelled in every one of them. The dig of nails into his shoulder when he nipped at your collarbone, the soft moan when his hands found the apex of your thighs and squeezed.

“I will win for you, my princess…” he mumbled, his face buried in your neck as his fingers continued their path to your core.

And you were powerless to stop him, your body listening now solely to your base instincts. The first brush of his fingers over your underwear had your head falling back.

“Win for me, and I will reward you…” you sighed out, as his fingers slipped deftly beneath the fabric.

Feyd could barely concentrate on your promise, slipping his fingers further and further between your folds until he was buried to the knuckles. The smallest curl of the digits had you moaning his name.

“Reward me how?” he asked, already feeling your soft walls clenching around him as your release crept forward.

He could barely help himself, thrusting and curling his fingers over and over. Feeling the soft gush of your slick coating his fingers and palm with each movement.

You could hardly form words, Feyd’s fingers somehow speeding up again. You could only moan as you release surprised you, tugging Feyd by neck to kiss him as you spilled around his fingers.

He slowed his movements as you relaxed, not pulling them out until he could feel your muscles stop spasming. Your jaw went slack as you saw him reach for the bowl of paint, mixing your juices with the black liquid and painting over the now smudged symbols you had adorned him with. The smug grin on his face making your skin tingle.

You slowly came back to yourself, eyes meeting his as you finally answered.

“Win for me, and you can have any part of me you wish.”

Dune Taglist (requested and people I know who like Dune):

@blissfulphilospher @tumblin-theworldaway @lady-phasma @anjelicawrites @aemondsbabe @alexagirlie

(if you want to be tagged in or removed from future posts, let me know!)

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha smut #feyd x you #x reader smut #x reader insert #dune fanfiction #feyd smut

[akxmee]

𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗥 𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗠. //𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎.

He loved her since childhood, yet she married another man.

Words: 11.3k

Suguru Geto was never seen like a man interested in relationships. Not flings, not one-night stands, real relationships. Unlike his best friend satoru who used to have tons of girlfriends week after week, Suguru wasn't fond of it. Don't get him wrong, he did like to have his fun too, but once he had it and was satisfied he never once was seen again.

It's not like he didn't want a relationship either. He wished for the warmth of a relationship, he craved the proximity and he needed that closeness with someone, but not with anyone. Because he only wanted you.

He always did.

Everytime he felt some random woman's hand run through his hair, every moment he felt someone admiring his beauty, everytime he was sent gifts from some "secret admirer" on valentines, everyday he woke up next to some lady he met on a party..he wished it was you. No matter how many hands he held, they never fit his like yours do. No matter how many people he met, none of their personalities was made for his like yours is. Maybe that's why he never really even tried to establish a serious romantic relationship with someone, because he knows no one will fit him like you do.

"It's no use. If she doesn't like you by now, give up. Want something to smoke the pain away?"

Yeah, shoko said that to him more than once and he remembers it too well. He always ignored the last part, because Suguru knew you didn't like the smell of cigarettes from the way your beautiful face turns into an expression of disgust when you smell it. He has always been able to admire your beauty, even when he first met you as a child and decided to play with this pretty kid from the other class.

Oh, how he cursed the day that he met you.

He remembers it as clear as a day, it was a snowy day in primary school. He was in class, waiting while sitting on a chair while he waited for his patents to pick him up since they were late because of work. All the kids were already gone, and he was just staring at the floor while patiently following his teacher's orders.

—Psst!

He looked around for the owner of that sound. The door wasn't opened, and nobody was inside of the class too.

—Over here!

Suguru looked to his right, seeing another child standing on a chair to get part of their face visible through the tall window. The kid waved, and he found himself waving too.

—You look bored, want to play?

He looked around the classroom for a second. He was more than happy to have someone to play, but it was a classroom. What game could he play here, if it wasn't doing basic mathematical exercises?

—Bur there are no games here..

To his surprise, the child nodded.

—I know! But look.—The kid proceeded to signal to the opposite window, the one that had looks to the exterior of the school.—There's snow. We can make a snowman, like the movies!

He sounded interested in her offer. However, he was still not fully trusting you.

—Won't we get sick? I'll say it's your fault if i catch a cold!

He said, pointing at you with his finger along with a sly smile. Even if there was a dirty window between the two of you, he could still feel the warmth of the smile you just gave him then.

—No worries! I'll make sure you stay warm.

—You promise?

He looked at the child's innocent eyes that grew excited as he seemed to have agreed to play with her now. His lips curved into a smile due to this.

—I promise!

And he trusted her word. His mom once said that promises couldn't be broken once you make them, so that kid was responsible of him now in case he grew cold. He got off of his chair, opened the door and finally saw her whole, not just half of their face looking at him through a window. The child he has been talking to smiled as they got off a chair to get to his level, and he helped her get the chair back to the classroom it was borrowed from before going outside.

The kid was called Y/N, he learned.

And you were so fun to be with. He played with you, made a few snowmen, threw snowballs at eachother, and laughed the hardest for a long time when he hit you and you fell to a huge pile of snow. He thought you were going to be boring at first, that you were just one of those stupid kids who laughed at him because he claimed to see "spirits" or "curses" as he liked to call them, but you weren't. You didn't even understand what he meant when he talked to you about them, however you were sweet about it. You even said it was alright and that everyone has imaginary friends, he just has tons of them! That's cool, isn't it? Having so many friends must be cool.

For a moment, he thought it was cool too.

Not a curse, not a gift, but something cool only he could do.

And that single feeling of being someone "cool", someone interesting and not some crazy child, made him feel free for the hour he kept playing with you until his parents picked him up. He was scolded for being outside and catched a huge cold that had him in bed for two whole days, but it was okay. He liked the way you kept him entertained that day, so he forgave you for breaking the promise.

Yeah, he liked you.

Suguru sighed, those memories he thought he would eventually forget coming back to him. He was a shy kid, and you made him get out of his comfort zone. That little you tore down his walls and stepped all over his beloved silence until he began to hate it as much as you did. Now, there was no place for it when you were together and he got used to you yapping everytime just like Satoru. Only difference was he actually enjoyed your voice, he found the tone you spoke to him with quite relaxing.

He noticed how you always had a different tone for each person.

It was endearing, to say the least. Suguru loved the way you called for him, the way his name sounded so sweet from your lips. When you talked to him, he noticed your voice was soft. Softer than usual, soft as if you knew you didn't have to raise your voice for him to understand you better. Sometimes there wasn't even a need to say something for him to understand you, but he still pretended he didn't hear you just to listen to your voice once again.

He adored your voice.

And maybe, just maybe, that was the reason he was calling you to tell you this instead of texting you right now.

He thought about it once again, how brave he was being right now when as a teen he couldn't be able to even look at your face despite being your childhood friend. It was all because he had just discovered he had this silly crush on you, wasn't it?

Oh, how he cursed the day he fell in love with you.

It was when he recently joined the jujutsu tech, as far as he remembers. You two were then at his home, with a bottle and a half of alcohol empty, doing both a celebration and goodbye party. He got into the college, but that only meant he was leaving you behind to go and live in Tokyo while you stayed at his childhood town. That explains why you were completely drunk, drunk enough to look at him and not think about how he was going to leave next week.

—Going to fall asleep already?

You looked at Suguru with sleepy eyes. Right, you two were on the sofá with some of those random pathetic TV shows at 3am as background noise as you leaned on his shoulder and he talked about the people he was going to have class with. None of the ones he described to you seemed interesting since, for you, your Suguru was always going to be the strongest. However, you listened to him carefully anyways like you always do.

—No, I won't.

He chuckled.

—Right. I'll be guessing you're spending the night here?

He felt a slight nod against his shoulder.

—You even dare to think i won't?

—Not at all, m'am.—You rolled your eyes at the formal nickname, getting your head off his shoulder as a punishment. You also intended to get up to be more dramatic, but a hand on your waist stopped you.—You're drunk, i wouldn't recommend standing up just yet.

You looked to the side, meeting his half lidded eyes and cocky smile as he talked to you. A slight blush crept its way on his cheeks due to the alcohol, but didn't sound drunk at all despite all of that.

—So what? It's time to go to bed anyways, Suguru.

—You actually intend to go to bed knowing how tipsy we are right now?

—No, but i do want a blanket from your bedroom.

He looked at you and wondered if you were serious. Alcohol warms people up, so how could you be cold? It was winter, but his house was surely warm enough to stay hot and comfy.

—Hell, are you sick?

The hand on your waist pulled you closer to him and as a result you ended up with your head on his chest. Next thing you knew, a pair of soft lips were pressed on your temple for a few seconds until the feeling of them disappeared.

—You don't seem to have a fever.

You looked up, not caring about what he just did and how your actions could be misunderstanded if someone walked in right then. You were always this close to Suguru. You didn't mind being this close to his chest, neither did you care if he pulled you by the waist, and the feeling of his lips on your forehead to check your temperature was just another of the things you've grown used to. Not only that, but you were too drunk to even give it a second thought. Hell, he could have kissed you on the lips with the excuse of checking if you're sick and you wouldn't have thought anything bad about it because of how sleepy you were getting.

And he knew that.

He just didn't know why he wanted to do it so bad.

That time when he was leaning in to kiss your forehead his tired gaze lingered on your lips for a bit, nothing too weird. You were wearing that lipstick shade he helped you pick, and it suited you really good! It was okay, so why did he feel the urge to ruin it until his lips were of that shade too? Why did he feel like he was doing something wrong by pulling you into his chest, thinking of this as something that wouldn't be quite considered friendship?

—Hey, Suguru.

Your voice interrumpted his thoughts. You were still on his chest, now in a comfy position and playing with a strand of his loose dark hair. The man simply looked at you, mumbling a soft "mm?" waiting for you to keep going even if he knew you were just going to tell the most carefree thing ever since you were drunk.

—I've been thinking, and i'm really glad you're the one I get to call my best friend.

Best friend.

Yeah, he needed to get that carved into his brain urgently since that was what you two were, are, and will be. There was no space to even think about something as complex as some kind of attraction to his kind of cute childhood friend, and he was once again reminded of it. All the times he got butterflies just because you held his hand like you always do, he needs to get rid of all of them. All of the times his heart raced because of a silly kiss on his cheek, the long hugs, the late night talks about life..it needs to stop. It was dirty to think of you in a way beyond friendship when you saw a brother in him, and he knew that. You didn't see it the way he wanted you to, so he had to start forcing himself to think the way you do.

It should be easy, that's what he thought when he first felt this strange around you.

Yet, it was anything but easy.

So with a sigh, he placed a hand on top of your head while the other one rested on your lower back. He positioned the two of you so you completely lay on the couch and turned off the TV, admiring how you didn't even question his actions as you waited for an answer to what you said a few seconds ago.

—Yes, i'm grateful you're my friend too.

"Liar", he thought.

But what could he do? He doesn't like you anymore.

It's clear now,

He entirely loves you.

The phone made a sound, and it once again stopped him from daydreaming.

—Suguru?

He heard you talk from the other line. The man smiled just by hearing you call his name.

—Y/N.

Suguru called your name back, his voice was deep and sweet, and had this endearing sweet touch that made it sound like he was purring your name.

—It's late, why did you call me?

You didn't even sound worried despite the fact that he was calling you so out of nowhere, this was a normal thing. He kept quiet for a bit, he could hear some utensils being moved around.

Perhaps you were at home, cooking?

That's good, he loved your cooking. You made food for him several times, so many that he lost count. Seeing you cook while he waited leaning on the kitchen's counter made him dream of a universe where you cooked for him everyday. Oh, how he imagined you cooking something for him as he got from work. You and him, at home, married and not friends. That's the perfect life, the life he desired next to you.

However, it was not possible.

He exhaled.

—I'm not going to attend your wedding.

He didn't even get to keep talking, and the sound of a metal object —some cutlery, he guessed— hitting the floor was already interrupting him.

—What do you mean?!

You asked him desperately, getting worried. What did he mean by not coming to your wedding? Was he crazy? He was one of the only people you specifically wanted to see at your ceremony. You wanted to spend your special day with him, who you considered part of your family at this point. You wanted to recieve an speech from him congratulating you as he promised, you wanted him to joke about how your husband's family was so dry, you wanted him to see you in your wedding dress.

And he did, too.

He just wasn't able to.

—Suguru!

You called for him, waiting for an explanation. He stayed quiet for a second, the only thing you could hear from his line was the sound of heavy steps and wind. He was walking through an alley, leaning on the wall once he was there.

—Listen, i can't.

—Why?!

He wondered about what excuse would suit best right now to give it to you. "I love you" he wished to say, but was it really relevant when you were soon to marry another man? How could he even dare to be as selfish as that, letting you know of all of the times he took advantage of your friendship to have an excuse to hold you? How could he, as a man, ever think of saying such a thing? However, you did deserve to know the truth. Was he really going to tell you?

He shook his head, a bittersweet smile in his face.

—I can't, Y/N. Something just came up, and I-

—Something more important than your best friend's wedding day? Really, Suguru?

—Yeah.

He hated the way your breath hitched at that, the way he could feel the pain in your voice. Because the pain you felt, he felt it even worse. Everytime the smallest of the corners of your heart broke, his whole soul shattered.

—And you can't even give me an explanation?

Your voice cracked. He just stayed quiet, and you got your answer.

Your tone changed this time.

—I hope you're glad of what you've just done. Don't you dare to call me again, Geto.

You hung up, and he knew he fucked you up.

His last name was spat with what felt like venom through his ears, the feeling of not hearing you calling out his name with a cheery tone had him at the verge of tears. It was his decision, so why was it so hard to do this to you? You were supposed to be the only woman he could ever love, and he just hurt you.

His shaky hands threw his phone across the street, frustration getting over him.

Fuck it.

He crawled along the alley still leaning against the wall for support, sitting on the ground once he reached the edge of it. His breathing was accelerated, he didn't know if it was due to stress or the stinging pain coming from his shoulder.His head leaned back as he hissed in pain, clutching on his arm.

Or what was left of it, anyways.

Blood stained his hands, which he didn't even realize were paler than usual. He left out a shaky breath, recalling all of the things that happened faster than he could ever imagine. He was beat up by this kid called Yuta, ruined his relationship with you and was about to die, all in a span of time of a few hours.

It was for the best.

—Suguru.

A voice called his name. For a second he thought he would see you, but the voice was too masculine to be yours. His mind must be playing games on him.

He opened his eyes, seeing a white haired man he knew a little too well.

—Ah, Satoru.

Satoru looked at him with those eyes, those eyes that used to be filled with emotion now looking empty. His friend kept quiet, so Suguru kept talking.

—You know, just had a chat with your wife. We might have fought a little.

Yes, Satoru's wife. That was no one but you, the only woman he could have ever desired, taken from him by his best friend. He was mad at first, hearing that you and satoru were offcially dating.

Satoru knew he liked you, so why?

He was crazy, refused to talk to Satoru in private or when you were not looking. He placed his trust on Satoru when he said he would respect his crush, and he betrayed it. He didn't even understand why would he do such thing when Satoru was known for having like.. four, five? girlfriends in one month. He didn't want his best friend to break your heart.

But then he saw it.

He saw the way Satoru looked at you and noticed how you looked at him back.

Fuck, you loved eachother.

Because he knew that gaze of yours, he dreamed of it more than he could ever count. He wished of the day you would look at him like that, but Satoru got that dream come true before him. He cried until the next morning that day, cursing fate for giving him a heart that wasn't his, but yours. He cried because no matter what he did for a decade, Satoru got you in just two years.

Was it Satoru's eyes? Was it his pale hair? Perhaps you thought he was unattractive. He knew he was always going to be less than his best friend, but he thought that maybe you would choose him and not the strongest.

But you didn't.

And with time, he learned how to live with it. He helped Satoru pick anniversary gifts for you, supported your relationship with him, calmed you down when you and Satoru fought, helped satoru pick a ring and propose to you... Hell, he was going to be Satoru's man of honor at your wedding too. How could he not? You looked so happy when you gave him that handwritten invitation letter inviting him you to your wedding with another man while his heart crushed in silence.

But everytime, he smiled at you.

Because you were happy, and Suguru wouldn't want anything but that.

And that's why he, even though he took the thing he wanted the most, smiled at satoru who was looking at him in this pathetic situation where he didn't even have an arm and was covered in blood. Yes, he had no bad things to say about his best friend if he was the one making you happy.

—Told her i wouldn't attend the wedding. You must understand why, huh?

Satoru tried his best not to let his serious and professional expression fall at Suguru's words. He seemed as if he was so calm, but he knew what he was thinking. The white haired man simply kneeled down in front of him.

—She used to like you too.— He spoke in a low voice.—A year before we started dating. Remember when she started to wear ponytails? Asked me what your type was and i said that because i didn't actually know.

Suguru's eyes darted towards his friend's, looking for the slightest clue that would indicate that he was lying. He wasn't, he knew that gaze.

—Why are you telling me that?

—Thought you would want to die with a happy thought. I know you still..

"You still love her" he wanted to say, but suguru's chuckle didn't let him continue. Satoru saw the widest smile he could have seen in his best friend's face since years and years ago. He laughed and laughed, forgetting about the pain he was feeling at that moment. More than feeling like he lost a chance, he felt glad; not because he didn't even realize it, but because of the fact that if you liked him once, that would only mean you had looked at him. It was okay, because you laid your eyes on him and he was chosen by you. He was worthy enough to be liked by you, and he felt his younger self scream of joy inside of him.

That made him even happier, because It means that maybe, in another universe, he gets to make his dream come true and finally date you withouth having to worry about ruining your friendship. In another universe, maybe he gets to be the reason of your happiness. A universe with no curses, where you two live separated from the world and live a married life with children.

Yeah, nothing could make him happier than that.

So he closed his eyes and rested his head on the wall, relaxed and ready to accept the fate his friend was going to give him. His smile didn't ever fade, grateful for what Satoru told him.

—At least curse me a little at the very end..

—AUTHOR'S NOTE: honestly not really happy with how i've written this fic, i was kind of rushed. However, hope you liked it!

It's not edited, so let me know if there are any mistakes.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru x you #geto x you #suguru fluff #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto fluff #geto angst #gojo angst #gojo satoru fluff #jjk gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fanfiction #jjk fanfic #fanfic #gojo imagine #jjk drabbles #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru headcanons #gojou satoru x reader #suguru geto #jjk suguru

[11cupid-tarot11]

What has your future spouse been dreaming about lately?

For the divine feminine seeking the divine masculine •°. *࿐

1 -> 4

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Pile 1- The Chariot, Two of Swords, The Hanged Man

I'm getting the feeling your spouse really wants to make a move on you! He's dreaming about what it's like to be all in your space, he really wants to know what you're like. I was thinking at first that maybe he wants to spend time with you and know what it would be like to do mundane things with you like grocery shopping, but I think this guy is more curious than that. I think he wants to know just about you in general and what you like doing, he's the type to watch what you pick up and glance at during shopping just to get a feel of what you like. He wants to know your schedule, how your day went, he'll probably ask this a lot.

I feel like this person has a crush on you? He feels kinda stuck, like the hanged man lol. I'm not sure the circumstances or the dynamic of the relationship/how you'll come together but it surely feels like this person is very secretive with his thoughts of you, like he's very open telling me but he's scared to tell you? Like maybe this is someone you know of and you guys are friends and they're secretly crushing lol, that was very specific so it's okay if it doesn't resonate with everyone. This could also be a secret admirer for some.

But he's dreaming about changing something with you, planting roots and something stable. I'm not sure what the change will be, but I am seeing him thinking of different approaches to overcome whatever hardship is happening between you two, it could also be something on their end like maybe shadow work still needs to be done or they're still dealing with a karmic relationship of some sort.

It seems to me like they're sorting through everything, they might fantasize about things finally coming to an end and being able to start something with you. I know as soon as this is finished they're spreading towards you. I think they really just want you to know they're still coming? I got this rush feeling, like an adrenaline rush feeling? I think this person just wants you to know they're still clearing through some things! "Just hang in a little longer!" I'm hearing with a cute little smiley face ☺️. Your person is adorable! I think they love acts of service too!

I think if this were to be a 18+ reading they'd definitely tell you about all of the things they'd love to focus on your body and needs lol.

I have to make an 18+ version of this now 😂 stay tuned!

Don't forget to do the poll below! Talk again soon!!

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Pile 2- Six of Coins, Eight of Swords in reverse, The moon, Temperance, Ten of Cups.

Your person dreams about spoiling you, pampering you, taking you out on really fancy dates (plus showing you off 😵‍💫) just treating you like you are their everything. I hear it's because you are their everything! They adore you so much!

This person talks a lot too and wanted to pull extra cards when I usually only do a three card pull spread lol.

This card makes me feel like your person kinda feels like a spider stuck in it's own web right now, they're really in their head :( I getting your person has a negative mindset? For some of you it could be specific as they feel like they're not on the same level as you whatever that might mean to them. They dream about cutting out of their web, I think for the benefit of the connection really but also for their piece of mind, yk?

Maybe this person feels like they have to achieve a certain amount of wealth before they come to you, which goes hand in hand what I was saying about really wanting to spoil you lol they want to save up a bunch so they can have a great future with you and for those of you who want children they also want to build a family for you so of course they want to save for this too.

They dream about having a steady home with you, I think they like to fantasize about your future a lot lol. They say it won't be perfect but it'll be the definition of love like a real family should be lol. They want a balance with you, they're also the type to be very balanced in a relationship, they'll balance work and you at the same time. I honestly get the vibe that's why they're working so hard right now, so they can spend the rest of their time with you more!

I think this person dreams about the day you two unite! With the ten of cups I feel they dream about a happy home with you a lot, but also a happy relationship. I can guarantee this relationship will be very fulfilling and healing and loving. Their energy feels so excited to meet you if you guys haven't already, a healthy and loving relationship could be something they've always wished for so this is a wish fulfillment for them, they can't wait to experience real love with you. 🩵 The color blue might be specific for a few of you?

Don't forget to do the poll below! Talk to you soon love :))

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Pile 3- Knight of Coins, Justice (clarification cards- Death, and Strength), Two of Wands, Seven of Cups (clarification cards- Ten of Cups), and King of Swords (clarification cards- Knight of Wands)

I needed so much clarification for this group xD

Every time I look at the ducks eyes they always look so full of administration, anyone else see it? It's adorable. I channeled right away your person will adore you like this picture so I chose it!

I heard they think about this every day straight away lol.

Your future spouse fantasizes about putting hard work into you, really showing up for you I'm feeling. Like I feel like it's deeper than a materialistic matter, I feel like he really wants to support you emotionally. He doesn't want to be your therapist or anything it's like he just wants to make sure you're okay, he really cares about your well being. A better way to put this is that they really want to show up as a man in your life, one that doesn't have a toxic sense of masculinity and really respects women and wants to understand your needs, wants and boundaries I'm hearing. He likes to solve your problems because your problems are his problems.

He's dreaming about justice in a situation, I'm going to pull clarification cards for the Justice card to help understand a bit better because I want to know possibly in what situation, I can't figure that out on my own I'm not hearing much channeling on this card. The clarification cards just are making me feel it's probably a too personal situation they don't want me to know about, but maybe when you meet this person you will know because it's making me feel like it's linked to you, he probably doesn't want you to understand much either right now but he says he's working hard on getting justice in a situation he really wants to come to an end soon, I think when it's over it'll bring a lot of happiness, a shift in energy, a really big change :) He wants you to encourage him to be strong as he encourages you, it's a very tough situation maybe? Heavy energy kind of just came through me, like a little random rush of sadness just thinking about the question so I will move on now :)

This person fantasizes about making everything perfect a lot in a way, he really likes to plan. You'll notice this about them right away lol. They probably have a hectic schedule right now I'm hearing. They're possibly planning on how to get to you? This feels like a soulmate connection, something that's just supposed to happen because it just makes so much sense because you two love each other and really care for one another. This is someone who you can spend the rest of your life with because they're confident you two are a perfect match. Very equal in the relationship which is why it would work perfectly I'm hearing. He's just doing a bunch of planning right now, lots of thinking things over and through.

He dreams about probably having a lot of money, a level of fame? Maybe he's a celebrity or wants to be, he could be very creative and expensive. He dreams a lot very dreamy they could have water in their chart, they do feel emotional. They're so cute 😭

This person dreams about picking a path and advancing in it basically, they really want to be the boss, be at the top of their game whatever career or field it might be. They want a lot of abundance! They fantasize about being given an opportunity to present themselves, show off maybe. They could be a really good singer/rapper or some kind of performer. They could play an instrument.

I feel like they really want to settle down with you for sure though, they want to offer you a lot as well so they work really hard to show up financially, they could've grown up in poverty I'm hearing a specific message for some of you so being financially stable is everything for them. They want you right by their side ;)

This person was kinda hard to read but I think that's cause how dreamy they felt, thoughts kinda bouncing around everywhere haha, so take this how it resonates with you!

Don't forget to do the poll below!! Talk to you soon!

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Pile 4- Seven of Coins, The Magician (clarification cards- Three of wands), Seven of Wands (clarification cards- Death and Queen of Swords)

This person wants to start off with the seven of wands first even though it was the last card to be pulled lol.

They want to maybe draw attention to dreaming about fighting for something? They are very protective and will stand their ground and fight for what's theirs. I can't really tell, so I'm going to ask for clarification ;) I don't know why but I feel like they want to sabotage a relationship between you and someone else? I feel like they fantasize about this a lot! I feel like your energy is the Queen of wands but you don't really see this person! This could be a clue your future spouse is someone you already know!

They dream about making you theirs lol stealing you away. 😋

So with that, they're also dreaming about the future with you! Working on their finances as well, but also thinking about what it would be like in the future with you. This person feels like they're confident they will have a future with you lol. Maybe they're not making a move right now because they want to build up their finances more for the long run with you, because when they do make a move on you they plan to commit deeply and I'm hearing they fell hard for you, and you possibly don't even know it 😵‍💫.

😭 🩷 you probably drive this person crazy lmao

He's probably manifesting you lol?

I asked for clarification for the magician as well and it just makes me think he's really brainstorming a lot right now? I think every pile had a lot of thinking in them but never really being too specific on what and I'm always left with so much quietness so I'm left in the dark😭

They're just really thinking a lot which makes me think it's only about you. They seem shy, they could be younger than you? They seem like they're too scared to tell you how they really feel. Could be scared of rejection? But they really do fantasize about you a lot! They think about you constantly and different ways to impress you, how to get your attention. They really want you my pile 4's and they're fighting hard hehe. They won't back down either!

They think you're very pretty, like the bunny in the picture 😻. Hehe cute.

They might call you princess a lot, or other cute little pet names. They feel very affectionate, they have a lot of love to give! This person isn't someone to be scared of, they do care about you! It's not all about lust, there's love here as well as admiration! They do adore you!

Don't forget to do the poll below!! Talk again soon love!!

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#pac love reading #pac tarot #pick a card #spirituality #tarot #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarot love reading #tarot messages #tarot card reading #love tarot reading #love reading #tarot community

[thebearer]

Mama and sugar doing bonding time. Maybe they leave the kids with Pete and Carmy and they go for a spa day and gossip

pete and carmy bonding time?? i'll cackle rn. i had to make it a blurb.

"Why does Pete have to come over here?" Carmen grumbles, burping Willow on his shoulder. You can see his sulking expression in the reflection of the vanity's mirror, rolling your eyes at his dramatics.

"You could've gone over there." You give him a pointed look, pulling your wedding ring and band out of the small jewelry dish.

"No," Carmen huffs. "I didn't plan on seeing Pete at all."

"Carmen," You hiss, giving a pointed look at Teddy, who's currently playing on your phone. "He's your brother-in-law." Carmen huffs. "Your children's uncle."

Carmen frowns, faltering under your unimpressed glare. "But... Baby, it's Pete."

"And he's always been lovely and kind and very supportive of you." You snap, rolling your eyes. "Honestly, Carmen, I don't know where this whole Pete hate thing comes from, but it's embarrassing."

"It's not hate." Carmen corrects quickly, following you into the closet. "It's just... You know how he is. He's just got that- I dunno he's just Pete."

"Pete treats your sister wonderful, treats his babies wonderful, treats our babies wonderful, treats your family wonderful, treats you wond-"

"-Alright, alright." Carmen huffs.

You frown at him, slipping on your shoes. "We'll be gone for a few hours. You can survive being cordial and nice with Pete for the sake of Teddy." You knew it was a low blow, using Teddy like that, but it was one you knew would work. "She loves playing with MJ and Maggie. You're going to deprive her of seeing her cousins because you think Pete's annoying?"

"No," Carmen said fiercely, defensively. "I never said that. I just said I'm not lookin' forward to it just bein' me and Pete. I don't," Carmen paused, looking down at Willow to avoid your gaze. "I don't know how to talk to him sometimes."

You smile softly, walking over to him, your hand sliding over his on Willow's back. "Baby, Pete talks enough for the both of you." You tease lightly, head tipping up to catch his lips in a sweet kiss. "Just talk to him about the restaurant, about New York, you know he just wants to talk to you."

The doorbell saved Carmen from answering, Teddy's screech and bounding feet interrupting you both. You frowned, stepping into the hall, shouting a warning at Teddy before you followed her to the front door.

Carmen looked down at Willow, the sounds of his niece and nephews mixing withe Pete's and Sugar's floated into the house. "Carm's burping Willow, but he should be here in a second." You said sweetly. His heart swelled at your covering for him, like second nature, like you knew what he needed before he did, giving him a few more minutes to mentally prepare and calm his anxieties.

"Carm! We're leaving!" Sugar yelled, her voice echoing down the hall. "I'm stealing your wife for the whole day, so you better come say bye!"

Carmen rolled his eyes, pressing his nose into Willow's hair. She still had that sweet baby smell lingering with the powdery baby lotion your lathered her in. He walked down the hall, turning into the kitchen where the three adults stood.

"Hey," Pete grinned widely. "You ready for this, Carm? Just the dudes today. Boys day- Well, I mean Teddy and Willow and Maggie. B-But just the dads today!" He rambled a little nervous, a little excited.

Carmen could feel your glare on him, letting his lips curl in a smile. "Yeah, we got it." He nodded at Pete. "You guys go have a good time."

You looked at him carefully. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Carmen nodded, lips brushing your cheek lightly. "You got my card?" He nodded at your purse. "Go have a day. You deserve it." He turned to Pete, a hint of a grimace that he tried to swallow down. "The dudes got it."

Pete cheered, your lips curling in a bright smile. "Thank you," You muttered, pressing a kiss to Willow's head. "I'll have my phone if you need me."

"Except when we're in the massage and the facial." Sugar glared at you lightly.

"I've got it." Carmen nods, reassuring you sweetly. "We've got it." He nodded at Pete, who beamed with excitement. "Go have fun."

"We will." Sugar pulled you towards the door. "Take care of my babies! Bye!"

Carmen sat in an slightly tense silence with Pete, the kids squealing in the other room, Willow yawning ready for her nap. Pete tapped his hands rhythmically on the counter. "Dad's day, amiright?"

Carmen fought back a cringe, rocking Willow. "Dad's day." He nodded, knowing Mikey was rolling in his grave with laughter right now.

#thebearer #bearblahs #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #dad!carmen berzatto #dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader #dorothea “teddy” berzatto #willow natalia berzatto #natalie berzatto #sugar berzatto #pete the bear #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy fluff #carmen berzatto ​x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x female!reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fic #carmen berzatto blurb #thebearerblurbs

[dazednmatthews]

A blurb where Matt and the reader just sit in the back seat of the car and talk and give eachother smooches

i’m sorry i turned this into touch starved clingy matt pls don’t clock me i neeeeeed him!

so based on that one matt repost on tt and just everything we know about him in general, we know that he thrives in a peaceful environment with people he’s comfortable with.

you both had been doing nothing, sitting around his room lazily when he suggested going on a drive. you’ve never been one to deny matt of anything, so of course you follow him out the house eagerly.

he drives to the beach, car in the parking lot closest to the shore, listening to you talk about something that happened to you the other day. it’s a mindless subject, something about the grocery store, and he wishes he could pay attention.

only he can’t. because he’s staring at your lips like they’re home and he’s been longing for it all day. the only thing in the world matt likes doing more than hearing you speak is kissing you.

“and then i said, um mother fucker i was clearly here first, wait in line and—”

matt cuts you off with a kiss, effectively silencing your story. you give in for a second before you pull away, pretending to be offended. “did you just inadvertently tell me to shut the fuck up?”

matt rolls his eyes, because he knows his girlfriend and knows you’re looking for a fire where there is absolutely no smoke. “of course not. love hearing you speak. i just really needed that.”

you can’t help but drop the bit, scooting closer to him in the backseat. “yeah? you needed it?”

he leans closer to you, looking you directly in the eyes. he should probably be putting up more of a fight, but he can’t help it. the most beautiful girl in the world is being illuminated by the moonlight in his backseat and he doesn’t have the strength to pretend he’s not entranced. “need you all the time.”

it makes your heart beat so hard it threatens to escape your ribcage. his eyes are dark and open, and you can’t believe this man is yours. you don’t even say anything about it, just continue your story with a smile so fond it’s permanent in your features. matt continues to give you kisses all through out, but still manages to be attentive as ever, asking questions and humming in recognition. he knows how to make you still feel heard despite his need for you to be close and you know how to make him feel seen while he’s feeling clingy.

and what’s that thing the poets say? to be loved is to be known.

#cherriespeaks #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo texts #matt sturniolo texts #i love yall so bad #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo texts #chris sturniolo fanfic

[megalony]

A Family Gathering

As promised, here is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, I'd love to do a follow up to this if anyone is interested.

Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) and Eddie are close to their due date with their twins. But when they go to a family meal with her siblings and parents, it doesn't go as planned and family secrets are revealed.

(Reader is Buck and Maddie's sister)

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mum…"

The knocking at the door brought (Y/n) out of her trance and she leaned forward, lowering her head down towards the sink that she was leaning heavily against. Her lower back arched out, trying to relieve the pain in her back that felt like it was snapping in three different places, all at once.

Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she couldn't stop them from falling down her face as her nails started to scratch against the porcelean sink.

A twinge rolled through her back and her knees bent forward into the sink that felt like (Y/n) was about to rip it off the wall.

It took more effort than (Y/n) would of liked for her to open her eyes and it caused more tears to trickle down her face which she hastily brushed aside. She didn't want Chris to notice she had been crying, it would only panic him and that wasn't fair.

She tried to straighten up but the movement caused her spine to click oddly and send a loud crack through the air which had her quivering on the spot.

One hand moved to her lower back and the other pushed up off the sink that had been keeping her upright for a while now.

(Y/n) danced her eyes around the bathroom for the rest of the clothes she had brought in with her.

"Mum," Chris knocked again, followed by a giggle that almost lifted (Y/n)'s heart. She knew he was getting impatient both to use the bathroom and for her to hurry up because Buck was coming over.

He was picking (Y/n) and Eddie up and taking them round to Maddie and Chimney's apartment. Chris knew this, he knew his uncle wasn't going to see him for long and he knew Carla would be round anytime now so she could babysit him for the evening. But Chris was still excited to see his uncle even for a few minutes and he had a few games picked out for him and Carla to play tonight.

"I'm coming, just- just one minute."

Her legs quivered when she slowly eased down to sit on the toilet so she could get dressed without falling over. She kicked the lounge set she had stole from Eddie this morning to one side. The shorts had been a little uncomfy because they didn't stretch properly over her stomach anymore, but there was very little that still fit (Y/n) these days.

She reached out for her maternity leggings and when she stood up, she grumbled to herself and raked them upwards until they were over her underwear.

They didn't feel as comfy as they used to. Not now her stomach yet again seemed to stretch and grow in the last week. There was less than two weeks left until (Y/n)'s due date and she was becoming restless. Her stomach was bigger than ever, the twins were twisting and kicking and moving all the time and making it so hard for (Y/n) to try and sleep or sit down without any discomfort.

And now her back ache seemed to triple in the last two weeks and she didn't know what to do with herself.

She dragged the leggings as high around her bump as she could before she reached out for her dress. Another maternity dress that (Y/n) wasn't fond of wearing. It had been alright in the beginning, but now most of her dresses looked strange and just made her look an odd, rounded shape. (Y/n) had been living in Eddie's clothes these last two months but even his clothes were starting to become tight.

Tears welled up in her eyes again when she dragged the dress down over her bump.

This wouldn't do.

(Y/n) wasn't going to a family meal looking like this. She looked like a strawberry. An oddly shaped, deformed strawberry, thin on the top and wide around the middle.

Her back strained as she grumbled and fought to get the dress off again. She looped it over her arm and grabbed the loungewear set she had worn all afternoon.

When she finally opened the bathroom door, Chris grinned cheesily and flashed his teeth up at her. He wormed his arms around her and gave her a hug, nuzzling his face into her bump before they switched places and he headed into the bathroom.

Her hand pressed against the wall, using it as leverage to get herself further down the hall towards the bedroom. She had only just got up and already she wanted to sit back down again. She just wanted to sit down and try and get some sleep which had been evading her for the last week or so. (Y/n) had never had to take so may naps during the day as she did now to catch up on all the sleep she lost when she couldn't get comfy at night.

Something soft formed on her lips when she headed into the bedroom and looked over at Eddie.

He was stood in front of the mirror, buckling up his belt and tucking his shirt into his high-waisted jeans that fit snugly over his waist.

(Y/n) liked the shirt he was wearing. He had a light beige button up shirt on that looked a size too small for him. It stuck to his shoulders like glue, tensed and bunched up around the elbows whenever he flexed his arms and his chest was straining against the buttons that looked like they were about to pop. But he looked good.

His head turned in her direction and he quirked a brow as he looked her up and down. Stood there near the bed in her leggings and her bra and most of her stomach exposed for his flooded eyes to drink in and observe.

"Are you going like that?" He danced his eyes up and down her frame while he turned away from the mirror to face her instead.

"The dress didn't look right, think I'll have to raid you instead."

She tossed them in the hamper and looked in the wardrobe for a shirt that would look half decent on her and not make her look a fool or like a football. Her eyes locked on a dark navy blue button up and she swiped it from the wardrobe, smothering a groan as she clicked her spine into place, again, and dragged the shirt over her head.

"Oh no." Her head tilted to one side as she tried her best to wriggle into the shirt.

A quiet grumble left her lips and she felt like crying again when she tried to stretch the shirt over her large bump. When she pulled the shirt down, she gasped as the top few buttons popped undone. These kind of shirts used to hang off (Y/n)'s frame and stretch down to her thighs. Not anymore. Eddie's clothes always used to be loose because her husband was taller and broader than her. But now his clothes didn't stretch over her bump anymore.

She tried again to pull it down a bit more but the buttons kept popping open.

Her lower lip sucked between her teeth to stop herself from crying as she undid the buttons at the bottom of the shirt and stretched it down before doing up the buttons near her chest. It would be better to let her stomach be on show rather than her cleavage, and she had her leggings pulled up as high as she could get them.

She fiddled and pulled the shirt to try and cover her cleavage, but she paused and held her breath when a pair of arms circled around her waist.

"Looking good." Eddie murmured, punctuating his words with a kiss against her shoulder and travelling his lips up to the side of her neck.

He slid his hands beneath her shirt and danced his fingers across her stomach and beneath her leggings that were pulled up near her belly button. His words made (Y/n) smile but she didn't quite believe him. She didn't feel like she looked good when her leggings were getting tight, her dresses didn't look right on her anymore and even Eddie's clothes were starting to become too small for her.

"Hm, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

The genuine disappointment in Eddie's voice had (Y/n) shivering and she leaned her head back on his shoulder, pressing her forehead against his neck. She felt him lean his cheek on top of her head while his elbows pressed into her waist so his arms could squeeze her lovingly into his chest.

"Look at me, I can't even wear your clothes anymore." Her hands travelled down to hold Eddie's wrists and she lifted her head from his shoulder when Eddie leaned forward into her.

He nudged the collar of her shirt out his way, moving his pointed chin across her shoulder so he could pepper kisses across the front of her neck, feeling each shallow breath she took.

"I am looking, and I love what I see." He punctuated each word with a kiss up and down her neck before he lifted his chin and connected their lips. She felt him murmur "All my girls," against her lips and his hands pressed into her stomach as if to reassure her and punctuate his words even further.

They broke apart when they both heard Chris's excited squeal of "Carla's here!" and the sound of his footsteps clamouring down the hall to go and let her in. That was good. That meant that whenever Buck arrived, they could head off to Maddie's house.

(Y/n) wasn't ready. As much as she loved her big sister and her twin brother, it wasn't just them that they were having dinner with.

Their parents would be there.

Their parents had made the trip down since (Y/n) was a week away from her due date and Maddie had two months left before she would be ready to have her baby. This would be the first time they had seen their parents in over a year, the first time both sisters would see and interact with them since being pregnant.

And (Y/n) knew just what their mother would be like. Insufferable. She would be nit picking at any little thing she could, commenting on (Y/n) choice of clothing, how big she looked now, if she had decided to have a home birth or a hospital birth. Anything she didn't approve of would be outspoken and (Y/n) wasn't ready for that.

It was why Chris wasn't coming along with them tonight, it was just a small family gathering and (Y/n) didn't want him there in case her parents said anything out of order or upset him.

They barely acknowledged him as their grandson and they weren't so keen on him calling (Y/n) his mum because biologically, she wasn't. But they couldn't understand that (Y/n) loved him as her own and Chris thought of her as his real mum.

"Do you really think I look okay? You know what they're like." (Y/n) glanced towards the mirror before she looked over her shoulder at her husband.

He didn't look phased or disapproving and all she could see in his eyes was love and a while lot of lust.

His hands continued to roam across her stomach and as if to prove his silent point, he rolled her shirt up so it bunched beneath her bra, exposing her stomach to his eyes.

"Mi amor, you look beautiful… although I'd prefer you without these on." He gave a sharp tug on her shirt and pulled the elastic waistband on her leggings so they snapped back on her hips. Not enough to hurt, but enough to send an electric jolt through her nerves.

"Eddie…" (Y/n) latched her fingers into his hair when he shifted round to stand in front of her.

Her head tilted to one side and she watched with a quickening heartbeat as Eddie's eyes clouded over. Her fingers dragged through his wavy curls and her other hand clamped down on his shoulder while he roamed his hands across her stomach and round her hips. She tightened her fingers in his hair when she felt him try to drag down the hem of her leggings.

If he started this game they wouldn't end up leaving on time, and her brother was going to be round at any moment.

Her weight shifted from foot to foot when Eddie started a trail of kisses along her stomach and she could of cried when she heard him muttering 'beautiful' between each kiss.

"Dad!"

Eddie grumbled quietly against (Y/n)'s stomach but his lips curved into a wide smirk when he felt a kick beneath his lips. He pressed a few more butterfly kisses against her skin, running his fingertips across her hips before he pushed to stand back up to his normal height.

His fingers glided up her sides and he stole a kiss while he slowly pulled her shirt back down from where it was bunched beneath her bra. He much preferred the sight of her without anything on and he wanted nothing more than to strip her down here and now in the bedroom. But they both knew they had no time for that. Not now, not yet.

He stole a feverish kiss from her lips, inhaling every ounce of air she had in her lungs and (Y/n) could barely see when his fingers brushed beneath her chin and his thumb swiped across her lips when they parted.

(Y/n) moved her hands to her hair, fiddling to put it into a bobble while she slowly followed Eddie out the bedroom.

Once her hair was up, (Y/n) trailed one hand along the wall and pressed the other to her lower back. She couldn't move very fast these days, not when her back was throbbing and her stomach was weighing her down. She constantly felt like she needed to walk doubled over to ease the pain in her back and let her stomach hang forward like it clearly wanted to.

The twins were weighing her down and (Y/n) was desperate for her body to go into labour. She was close to her due date now. The midwife had warned her that she might go into early labour since she was having a multiple pregnancy.

She and Eddie had been on red alert since she hit thirty three weeks, but she was almost thirty nine weeks now and she hadn't gone into labour yet.

Eddie kept saying the girls were clearly too happy and comfy to meet them.

While Eddie headed into the dining room where Chris and Carla were, (Y/n) aimed for the living room. She wanted to sit down, again. She got one foot into the living room before the doorbell rang and had her groaning and turning in the other direction towards the hall.

"Chris, Buck's here." She could hear Chris dropping whatever was in his hands onto the table and she knew she heard Eddie moving about, but (Y/n) was closer to the door than the boys.

As predicted, when (Y/n) opened the door, it was her brother standing there on the other side. With a bright smile and sunglasses pushed up into his hairline now that he was on the doorstep to his second home.

"Come in." (Y/n) shuffled out the way and beckoned Buck inside, noticing the smirk on his lips when he looked up and down her attire. She knew she looked far from her best, doubled forward and tiredness clearly written on her face. When she noticed him raise a brow, she looked down and gave her shirt another tug so it covered her stomach a bit more.

"Are we ready for a family gathering?" He headed inside when (Y/n) moved out the way but he stayed close.

"No." (Y/n) grumbled, binding her arms around her waist while Chris pelted forward and barelled into Buck. She leaned back into Eddie when he stood behind her with his arms around her and his lips pressed against the back of her head.

She just wanted tonight to go smoothly and swiftly, but (Y/n) had a feeling tonight wouldn't go well at all.

***

(Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned her head back until she could tuck her face into Eddie's neck. She felt his arm loop around the back of her shoulders, holding her against his chest while he put his drink back down on his table and wormed his other arm around her waist.

His lips pressed to the top of her head and his hand feathered up and down her stomach while he glanced around the apartment. Out of them all here, Chimney seemed the most relaxed. Both twins were uneasy, they never knew how to act when they were around their parents. And Maddie seemed uncomfortable now the attention was on her. As for Eddie, he didn't get along well with Phillip and Margaret. Not after a family meal went wrong a year ago just before he and (Y/n) got married. And Eddie ended up raising his voice at Margaret after the way she spoke to (Y/n) and then subsequently told Phillip to fuck off.

They were being civil now because they both knew they had been in the wrong and they were trying to patch things up now both their daughters were about to become mothers.

Eddie was part of the family and if they wanted (Y/n) to stay in their lives, they had to accept Eddie too.

"You okay?" He whispered against the shell of her ear and pecked the side of her head.

"Stiff… give me a push?" She pushed forward, one hand on the table and the other on Eddie's thigh. Her lips curved into a smile when both Eddie's hands moved to her hips and he kissed the back of her neck, carefully helping her up to her feet.

Dinner had tasted great but the atmosphere had been a little tense. No one knew what to say or how to act and now, (Y/n) just wanted to go home. She wanted to curl up in bed with Eddie and try to get a proper night sleep.

Once she was up, (Y/n) gave Eddie's shoulder a squeeze and leaned over to kiss the top of his head. She felt his hand linger on her hip while she rounded the table and slowly padded into the kitchen to get another drink.

Her elbows dug into the kitchen counter and she arched out her lower back, smothering a groan when one of the twins started kicking. She wondered if her mum had been in this much discomfort when she was pregnant with her and Buck. Their mum never spoke about when she had them or when they were little, the only thing she used to say was she had them by C-section and that Buck had been perfectly healthy. While (Y/n) had a few problems to begin with.

"Are you good?"

A soft smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips and she nodded when she felt Maddie's hand on her lower back and then her sister's chin was perched on her shoulder.

Maddie was the mother (Y/n) and Buck always wished they had. She was the one who patched them up and taught them to ride their bikes, she took them to appointments and walked them home from school and helped them with their homework. She gave them the unconditional love their parents didn't know how to give.

Sometimes when she was a teen, (Y/n) thought about telling people she didn't have any parents. She thought about saying that she was raised by her big sister because in a way, she was. It felt like life would have been better if she and Buck cut all ties with their parents rather than continuing to try and win their love and affection when it never worked.

"Yeah, just a bit of back ache, I'm good."

"Not long now." Maddie whispered, giving (Y/n)'s arm a squeeze just as their mother walked into the kitchen.

It wouldn't be long now and (Y/n) would have her two girls, then Maddie would have her daughter and they would all have a bigger extended family together. They would raise their three girls together and make sure all of them had a different, more stable and loving upbringing than the Buckley kids ever had.

"Maybe you should try straightening your posture honey, walking like this won't help you."

A tight-lipped smile grimaced on (Y/n)'s lips as she nodded but stayed leaning over the counter. She felt comfier and more at ease leaning over like this and (Y/n) didn't care about her posture. She felt weighed down and she would do whatever necessary to try and feel more at ease.

Eddie never said anything about her posture. He was forever wrapping his arms around her and holding her stomach up or lying with her and trying to find different positions that relieved her back ache and made her feel better.

"What are you wearing, honey?" Margaret danced her eyes up and down (Y/n)'s frame while (Y/n) slowly straightened up now she felt a bit better.

"Eddie's shirt." She shrugged and took another gulp of her drink but the way her mum narrowed her eyes and looked at her made (Y/n) shiver.

"Maybe you should try some bigger clothes, ones that actually fit… you are quite big now."

She was sure Margaret tried to reach out to rub her stomach but before she could, Eddie was in the way. His jaw was locked tight and his eyes were narrowed while his brows furrowed. He took a deep breath and walked up behind the girls, his hands on (Y/n)'s waist and his lips against her temple.

He kept his left hand on (Y/n)'s hip and his chest pressed into hers, her bump hidden between them so Margaret couldn't get too close. He reached around (Y/n) for one of the beer bottles on the counter behind her before he turned to look at his mother in law.

"It's almost as if we're having twins." He deadpanned, about to say something else until he felt (Y/n)'s hands on his chest and her lips kissing the side of his neck.

"Eddie," She murmured softly into his neck, a quiet warning sign for him not to start a fight right here and now.

"Let's sit down." Maddie's voice broke the tension in the air and she motioned her hands towards the living room where Chimney, Buck and Phillip were all sat with a drink each.

Eddie's arm looped around (Y/n)'s waist and he followed behind her, his lips stuck to the top of her head as he held both their drinks in his free hand. He took a quick look around the living room, debating where they should sit so they wouldn't have to be right next to Margaret who liked to cause arguments recently.

He took note of Phillip sitting in the armchair in the far corner and Buck was on the end of the sofa nearest to his dad. With that in mind, Eddie headed over to the sofa and sat down next to his brother in law and put their drinks on the coffee table. But when (Y/n) went to sit next to him, he shook his head.

He shuffled back and sat up straight, parting his legs with a smile that had (Y/n)'s skin heating up and made her heart add in two extra beats.

(Y/n) felt Eddie's hands on her waist and she pressed one hand onto his thigh while Buck reached out and held her left hand to help her sit down without breaking eye contact or conversation with their dad.

Both Eddie's arms circled around her middle so his hands could spread out across her stomach and his knees pressed into her thighs. Lovingly squeezing her into his embrace.

She felt Buck pat her knee and smile softly over at her while Maddie sank down on (Y/n)'s right next to her and Eddie. And Chimney perched on the arm of the sofa behind Maddie so their mum could sit on the other armchair. It was a bit of a tight fit for them all on the sofa, but they made it work. It was comfortable, cosy.

(Y/n) let herself slouch down into Eddie's chest a little more to try and get comfy and her hands moved down to hold Eddie's wrists. While his hands started to draw aimless patterns up and down her stomach. She knew he was waiting for one of the twins to start kicking or moving around. It seemed to be Eddie's mission to feel every movement during this pregnancy and she couldn't wait to see what he would be like once he finally had their girls in his arms.

"Here, we got you girls a few things."

Her attention turned to the left and she let her cheek flop onto Eddie's shoulder, nuzzling her nose against his shirt while she looked over at her dad.

He got up and came back a few seconds later, placing a few things down on the table in front of each of them.

Something softened in (Y/n)'s eyes as Eddie leaned them both forward so she could reach out and take a look. She caught her sister's eye and both of them shared a smile as they had a look. It was mainly a few baby grows, ranging from Winnie The Pooh to blushing pink, with a few teddies in the mix.

(Y/n) handed a few across to Buck so he could look through and held them up so Eddie could see. Although his chin was already perched on her shoulder so he could take a look.

"Thank you."

"These are so sweet," Maddie folded the clothes back up once she and Chimney had taken a look through before she reached out to look at the teddy bears.

The eldest Buckley sibling couldn't help but notice there were more personalised items in her pile than in her sister's. The onesies Maddie had said things like 'mummy's girl' or 'Granny's little star' and there was a rattle and a Winnie the Pooh bear. Whereas the onesies (Y/n) had were plain except for the one Pooh Bear one she had seen, and there weren't any rattles or bibs and only three teddies.

She tried not to overthink but when she looked at her younger sister, (Y/n) had already put the presents back down on the table. If she had noticed the differences, she wasn't letting it show. And something told Maddie the twins had both noticed, judging by the way (Y/n) snuggled further into Eddie and how Buck ran his hand up and down his freshly shaved jaw, hiding his displeasure.

"I can't believe it, three grandkids at once. You're first kids," Margaret reached across and ran her hand up and down Maddie's knee but she looked across at Buck when he scoffed.

"Chris is your first grandkid."

"Come on Buck, he doesn't count." Eddie muttered quietly, reaching across to grab his beer bottle and take a long swig. He wasn't bothered because Chris didn't care. He didn't think of (Y/n)'s parents as his grandparents. He had Eddie's mum and dad and he had (Y/n) as his mum and another aunt in Maddie and a great uncle in Buck. He didn't want or need anyone else.

And it wasn't as if Margaret and Phillip were around often anyway, they were barely parents to (Y/n) and Buck as it was. The twins didn't care about having a relationship with them anymore.

(Y/n) had her siblings, she had Eddie and Chris and now she had her daughters. She didn't need anyone else and Bobby and Athena seemed to have taken Buck and her under their wing and accepted them as part of their family so all in all, the twins had parents with Bobby and Athena.

"Evan, I meant that this is their first pregnancies, and both at the same time, it's so lovely." Margaret tried to smile before her eyes locked with (Y/n) and something flashed over her face. "Oh, well, the first pregnancy that's worked out, hm?"

Eddie's shoulders tensed and pulled upwards as he slammed his beer bottle back down on the coffee table.

"Jesus Christ." Anger seeped into his voice that was gritty and hard but oddly quiet.

(Y/n) could feel him tensing up behind her, one hand still on her stomach while the other hand dragged through his hair. He leaned forward, tugging (Y/n) back into his chest because he could feel the tremor that shuddered through her system. And his lips pressed against the back of her head, breathing into her hair to try and calm himself down.

"Mum!" Buck barked and leaned his elbow on the arm rest, propping his head up on his hand as he shook his head in anger.

How could she be that rude and inconsiderate? How could she not see that saying something like that was hurtful and would easily upset both (Y/n) and Eddie? That wasn't the kind of thing she should say, especially not to her daughter when she was almost nine months pregnant.

Part of (Y/n) wished they'd never agreed to come here tonight, it wasn't worth the hassle of being around their parents. And the other part of her wished Maddie never told their parents about the miscarriage she had not long after she and Eddie got engaged.

But (Y/n) had been twenty weeks along when she miscarried and by then Maddie had just told their parents the good news that (Y/n) would be the first of the three siblings to have a baby.

"Alright, alright let's not start arguing." Phillip held his hands out in front of them to try and calm the room down while Chimney sat forward on the arm rest.

"Uh, what's in that box over there?" Chimney pointed across towards the pale cream box he could see near the window. Maybe that would prove to be a great distraction for them all and lead them back onto a more pleasant talk for the evening.

"Oh," Margaret seemed to become animated again and she got up to retrieve the box that had Maddie written in cursive writing across the top with glittered letters. "The baby box I made when we had Maddie, here. I thought you might like it, maybe you could make one for your little girl."

A tremor tore through (Y/n) when she looked at the box and she couldn't help but push back into Eddie who gripped her tighter. He leaned his head round to look at her, wondering what was wrong, but he could read her expression like a book he knew off by heart.

All night while they had been here and the other infrequent times her parents had been down while she and Maddie had been pregnant, they had been more pleased for Maddie than for (Y/n). They asked Maddie questions, they wanted to keep copies of her scan photos and know if she had names and see the nursery all sorted out.

Whereas with (Y/n), they seemed to play along like they were feigning interest. Eddie knew it hurt. He knew no matter how much of a brave face (Y/n) tried to wear, it upset her to know she and Buck had to fight for attention that Maddie got without question.

(Y/n) rested her head back on Eddie's shoulder and closed her eyes, looping both hands around his bicep as she looked at her sister. She didn't want to look in the box. (Y/n) didn't want to know what little treasures their mum had kept from when Maddie was little.

But when she felt her twin lean over with one hand on her arm and the other rummaging through the box, she knew Buck felt it too. The slight displacement they had suffered through all their lives.

"That's so cool, did you bring ours?"

One little look at her mum was enough to cause a callous smile to cross (Y/n)'s face and she couldn't hide the tears welling up in her eyes.

"We don't have one Buck. Do we?"

Both parents stayed quiet, sharing a few looks with each other while Buck gripped (Y/n)'s arm and leaned closer to her as if to comfort his twin. He could feel her heart breaking and it made his own chest tighten like he was about to have a heart attack.

(Y/n) wasn't sure what Eddie was about to whisper in her ear when he kissed her neck, but he didn't get chance to say when (Y/n) looked at her sister. She noticed Maddie trying to scrunch up a picture and slide it beneath her leg, something she always did when she was trying to hide something. Whether it was a bad report card she didn't want their parents seeing or a party invite she was trying to hide from the twins to make a big surprise.

She uncurled one hand from Eddie's bicep and snatched the picture before Maddie had chance to stuff it under her leg or the sofa.

She recognised that red bike.

It was the one they used to have in the garage, the one that presumably had been Maddie's when she was younger because their mother kept it even when Maddie outgrew it. She wouldn't allow the twins to touch it, let alone try and learn how to ride a bike with that red, tattered old thing.

But that wasn't Buck on the bike. (Y/n) knew what her twin looked like as a child, and this wasn't him. And when she turned the picture round and saw the date on the back, she noticed it was over a year before the twins had even been born.

"Who is that?"

Eddie peered over her shoulder and Buck leaned over her arm to get a look, but when he looked at their parents, both of them had gone as white as paper. Tears were welling up in their mother's eyes and their dad was scratching the back of his neck, a nervous habit he had never been able to hide.

It was the tears in Maddie's eyes that had both twins on edge. Why was she covering her mouth and trying not to cry? Why was she looking at them with such sorrow like that?

"Daniel."

"We, um… we had him two years after Maddie. He had leukaemia, he, he passed when you were only babies."

Every thought possible swirled round in (Y/n)'s head as she felt both her brother's hands on her shoulders like he didn't believe what he was hearing. This couldn't be possible. Why wouldn't they tell them? Why would they keep such a secret? Why would they keep this all to themselves? Were the twins not worthy of knowing they had a big brother they never got to meet?

"Wh- no, no. No you never told us- why wouldn't you tell us something like this? Why wouldn't you acknowledge him around us?" Buck's voice grew louder and louder with each word as his head snapped from left to right, trying to look between his parents who he didn't recognise right now.

There was no plausible explanation for hiding something like this. If Buck ever had kids and God forbid he lost one, he wouldn't erase them from existence and pretend they never happened. They had never celebrated Daniel's birthday. They never had pictures of him in the house- there were hardly any pictures of the twins in the house as it was. No one uttered his name or had any memory of him in the house.

"We lost him, Evan. We didn't want to live our lives mourning him-"

"So you chose to forget him?"

"Evan we would never-"

"No, oh no. You… you didn't…" The words wouldn't come out. All (Y/n) could do was let the tears fall from her eyes as she began to shake in Eddie's arms.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Both Eddie's hands moved to her stomach as he sat up straighter behind her and leaned round. Was she having pains? Did she not feel well, was she going to be sick? He couldn't work out what was wrong and neither could Buck who stopped rambling so he could reach out for his sister's hand.

But when Maddie tried to take (Y/n)'s hand, the younger girl shook her off and leaned into Eddie.

"You s-said I wasn't planned, that I- I was the surprise, but Buck wasn't." (Y/n)wiped her eyes but the tears continued to fall. "We were donor babies, weren't we?"

The way Margaret's lower lip wobbled and Phillip refused to look at either of them while he pressed his hands to his mouth secured (Y/n)'s answer.

They were donor babies.

They were designed embryos, made with the exact blood and bone marrow type to match the brother they never knew they had. They were supposed to save him. They weren't wanted, neither of them were born to be wanted or loved or cherished. They were born specifically to save the child their parents did want and they couldn't even do that right.

Everything seemed to slot into place and the more pieces that fitted together, the more (Y/n) started to feel sick and feel bile rising to the back of her throat.

All those times their parents never made a fuss on their birthdays, all those times they barely heard the words 'I love you' unless it was Maddie telling them. Each time they had to get hurt for attention or run away to cause a panic and be shown that they were valued and cherished. Each time (Y/n) asked about when they were born and their mother refused to answer, this was why.

Their mum always used to say that having twins was a surprise. That (Y/n) wasn't planned, she was a surprise since she was the younger twin by five minutes. This was why. They planned to have one more child to save their son but they ended up with (Y/n) too. Neither of them were truly wanted, they were just needed for a short while and then couldn't be returned after they were no longer of use.

This was why the twins always felt disconnected and why there were barely any photos of them growing up. This was why all of the pictures of (Y/n) and Buck as babies were with no one holding them. (Y/n) had been the sick twin, stuck in the hospital for two weeks before coming home and there was only one photo of her in the hospital when she was born.

Did they even visit her when she was sick? Did they check on her, or did they just take what they needed from her and Evan and stay with Daniel the whole time?

"All these years. All this time, we felt so out of place and alone, and this is why. You never wanted us. Did we remind you of him? Did we fail you every day we woke up and he didn't?"

"Evan please, we tried our best-"

"We just wanted you to love us!"

The sheer outburst and the way that Buck bolted up from the sofa sent everyone reeling.

The artery in his neck was close to bursting, his hand was pointing out at his parents and his jaw was grinding tight and about to dislocate. His body was shaking from adrenaline as he glared at them. His parents had lied to him all his life. His big sister who was the only one who loved him, she never told him why he felt so out of place and unloved and misunderstood. The only person he could rely on was his twin and she felt exactly the same as him.

Maddie was leaning into Chimney who had an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Margaret was crying into her hands, unable to look away from her son for the first time in a long while, and Phillip was now stood up, running his fingers through his hair as he tried not to breakdown.

And then there was (Y/n). Silently crying, rocking back and forth with Eddie's arms around her and his lips pressed against the back of her head.

"I walk into fire every day of my life because of you. I tried everything to get your approval, to get you to love me, to love us the way you do Maddie, but nothing would ever work. And now I know why, because we failed you."

When Maddie tried again to reach out for her sister, she gasped when (Y/n) all but slapped her touch away.

"You should have t-told us." All those times (Y/n) and Buck asked why their parents didn't pay them any attention or turn up for school plays or listen to them or even love them. Maddie had the answers and she never said anything. She should have told them the moment the twins moved out. She had years to tell them and she never mentioned it. Not once.

(Y/n) ran her hands across her face, brushing the tears away before she moved her hands to Eddie's thighs to push herself up.

"I wanna go home."

She could feel both twins wriggling and waking up and she had to lean forward to ease the pain in her stomach and the horrible twinging pains shooting up and down her spine.

One hand pressed to her stomach and the other reached out for Eddie's shoulder, knowing that if she didn't try and prop herself up she was going to collapse. She didn't want to stay here any longer. (Y/n) wanted to go home. She wanted to leave and be alone with Eddie and be home where she felt safe enough to cry and scream and let everything sink in and wash over her.

She felt Eddie grip her elbow and his other hand moved round to her waist as he stood behind her.

"Guys, you don't have to leave." Chimney pushed up from the sofa along with Maddie who tried to reach out for them. But she pushed back into Chimney, smothering a cry when (Y/n) shook her off and moved away.

"I feel sick… please, take me home." (Y/n) pressed her face into Eddie's arm and shrugged back into him when her dad tried to reach out for her.

Why were they all trying to grab her? Why couldn't they just let her go home? She didn't want to be here. She didn't feel safe here. Maddie lied to her. Their parents lied to them their entire lives and now the twins understood why their parents looked at them the way they did. She wanted to leave.

"Alright baby, we're leaving now."

Eddie moved his hands to (Y/n)'s hips and carefully guided her forward while he felt Buck follow swiftly behind them since he had drove them here. And he wasn't staying here to continue arguing. He didn't want to see his parents again for an indefinite amount of time and he wasn't going to forgive Maddie yet for this. He wanted to be with his twin or be on his own.

Reaching across, Eddie snatched (Y/n)'s bag from the kitchen counter and looped it over his shoulder while Buck grabbed his keys and opened the door.

His hands tightened on (Y/n)'s hips as he leaned around her when (Y/n gripped his wrist tightly and moved her other hand to her stomach as they shuffled out the door. Her lower abdomen was aching. She couldn't help but lean forward once they were in the hall and she felt like crumpling over and sliding down to her knees.

"Baby?"

Fright dwelled in Eddie's stomach and pierced through his heart with doses of adrenaline when (Y/n) tilted her head over her shoulder to look up at him. He didn't like the way she tightened her hand around his wrist or how she leaned against the wall while they heard Buck slammed the door closed behind them.

"Hurts."

"What? What hurts?" Buck rested one hand on Eddie's shoulder and leaned over them both to try and figure out what was going on. He could see Eddie shaking his head and groaning while (Y/n) pressed her hand against the wall so she didn't go down on her knees.

"Christ. I hope you're not going into labour, mi amor."

#eddie diaz x reader #imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #pregnant! reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #maddie buckley han #howard han

[aikaterini-drag]

A New Chapter PART 1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You and Rafe decide to try for a baby and that makes him excited and determined… to say the least.

Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18+, p in v sex, extra spicy, a tiny bit of anal play, heavy on breedìng kink and cοckwarming, shameless smut guys.

This belongs to the “Loving You” series. Find it here.

It was a few months ago when you and Rafe had the pregnancy talk. You’d been together for three years and got engaged last year. Your wedding was planned to take place in six months, but you couldn’t resist the idea of testing fate and ditching protection and seeing what happens.

It was Rafe’s innermost wish and fantasy to get you pregnant. Even when you diligently took the pill, he was obsessed with cumming inside you, filling you with his load. Now that you stopped taking the pill and gave him permission to knock you up, he was excited, utterly devoted and determined to make it happen. Sometimes, he would even compete to see with how much of his seed he could fill you up with.

This morning had been wonderful. You’d woken up in Rafe’s arms and spent the day making chocolate pancakes and sharing lazy touches and kisses. But he had to leave soon. He had an urgent meeting to get to, but he couldn’t stop kissing you against the door.

“Rafe, your meeting,” you murmured between kisses.

“Rafe,” you warned again while he dragged his teeth along your chin. Your fingers fumbled to slip on his jacket, you managed to get one arm into the sleeve before he wretched it from your hands and let it drop to the floor.

“Don’t ’Rafe’ me. I just want to kiss my fiancée.”

Hands cupping your face, Rafe didn’t just kiss you, he possessed your lips, his tongue tasting your mouth. You felt the blush spreading over your neck while he pressed the line of his body and backed you up against the door. His thighs cradled you, his hard cock strained through his clothes, poking against your oversized hoodie.

“We… d-don’t have time,” you whispered against his lips, but your protest was weak.

He looked at you, kissing you with his eyes.

Before you could say another word, he lifted you, and you gasped as he carried you to the bedroom, his steps quick and effortless. He tossed you onto the mattress, following you down and pinning you beneath him like a predator about to devour his prey.

“Rafe,” you tried again, but he silenced you with another kiss. “Mhhh… meeting—”

“I have a few minutes,” he drawled against your mouth, his teeth nipping your lower lips. “And I know exactly how to spend them.”

“You insane man—” you smiled because it never took just a few minutes for Rafe to make love to you. But your thoughts faded as his hands roamed your body, peeling away your clothes. Your hoodie came off first, and then your panties, you wore nothing else.

“You know you’re obsessed with this, right?”

He grinned. “It’s my honor, really.”

A deep groan escaped him as he shed his own clothes, baring himself to you shamelessly. At his image, liquid warmth gathered at your pussy. Rafe was a masterpiece of a man, with a broad chest and shoulders, hard nipples, and a virile chest. His hips were narrow, his legs long and muscular. And his cock. Oh, his gorgeous cock. You licked your lips as you reached down to cradle it in your palms. His shaft was hot at touch, thick and hard, curving angrily toward his bellybutton. The cockhead gleamed with a bead of pre-cum that made your mouth water.

Propping a pillow under your hips, he brought you close, bending over you on all fours. Your legs wrapped around him eagerly and he breathed out sharply. He held onto your hips with his calloused large hands, stroking his throbbing cock against your soaking wet pussy.

“There’s my good girl and my cute little pussy.”

“Rafe…” you undulated against him as he rubbed his the head of his dick angst your clit.

“Want something, baby?” he drawled, his shaft teasing you without penetrating.

“Rafe—” you tried to get him inside you, but he pushed your hands away and kept the length of his fat cock draped over your slit.

“Easy. We’ll take it slow,” he breathed against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck.

“Slow?” You exhaled, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I can’t. I can’t do slow.”

“Then tell me exactly what you want.” He closed his lips around your nipple, wetting it, then turned to give the same treatment to the other. “Or should I stop and go to my meeting?”

“Don’t you dare,” you mouthed while he fondled your breasts.

“Say it then. “

He cupped your ass, rubbed the round cheeks lightly before slapping them. You gasped, more wetness seeping from your pussy. You felt empty, and he was edging you when he knew the simplest of his touches made you go crazy with need.

“Baby…” you whined, tracing your hands over his bunching shoulders. “Want your hands all over me, your cock inside me. I want you to put a baby in me.”

“I’ll fuck you pregnant,” he said, his thumbs opening the folds of your pussy and let only his cockhead past the tight resistance. “When we marry, everyone will know you’re carrying my seed. You’re going to look so beautiful in your wedding dress, your belly round, carrying our child.“

“Hm… I want that too, please,” you choked out, shimming your hips, begging desperately to have his perfect cock shoving into you.

In one swift move, the blunt cockhead glided deeper and you tensed all over. Grabbing your inner thighs, he forced them wide apart and marveled at the sight of your little slit being forced open by his dick. Damn, you looked down and let out a long drawn out moan. No matter how many times you did this, he was so big, it seemed impossible that something that thick and long could fit inside you, yet it always did, perfectly.

You were so wet that his cock slid right in, the tip kissing your cervix. It was a tight fit and your walls clenched tightly around him as he brought his thumb back to your clit and rubbed round and round. His ministrations made you see stars, your hands fisting the bedcovers, thighs trembling.

“Mhhh… Full?” he purred against your lips as he allowed you to adjust.

“Hn… so… full.” You met his gaze, your eyes misty.

“So tight and wet,” he gritted. “Pretty pussy is squeezing me so hard, making a mess all over me.”

“Want more,” you whined, locking your heels around him.

But Rafe was in another dimension.

“You’re dripping all over my halls, baby.” His eyes were on you, his dick throbbing inside you while he played with your swollen clit. “Fuck, look at that, so pretty. Let it go, baby, let it go.”

“Hmm… I’m about to— come, Rafe, oh, Rafe, yes, yes...”

One, two three strokes over your poor clit and you closed your eyes, your body thrumming and clenching around him almost painfully. Your orgasm hit wildly, explosively, and you grabbed onto his pecs while you shook and cried out his name. And then he finally started thrusting. His surged powerfully inside you and you trembled with aftershocks, cumming again, so hard that you tried to push him away.

Rafe wouldn’t have it and kept fucking you through your orgasm, devouring your lips, his tongue licking into your mouth while his fingers pinched and circled your nipples. Your whole frame shook from his urgent thrusts, your juices dripping all over him and making a mess of the sheets. It was too much, too good.

Panting furiously, you forked your fingers in his hair, tugging and bringing his mouth to your nipples. A husky growl and he responded, suckling one bud in his warm mouth while circling the other with his thumb. You arched to meet his thrusts, your bodies colliding in perfect rhythm.

A gasp left you when he slapped your butt and flipped you onto your stomach. Meaty hands brought you to your knees as he crawled behind you, his thighs opening you up. Raising your hips, he filled you in one smooth motion and you cried into the mattress, your cheek rubbing against the cotton sheets.

Cupping your hips, he started a primal rhythm, wet slaps echoing in the room. Running his hands from hips to your ass, he drew your cheeks apart, exposing the tiny bud of your asshole and moaning lewdly at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy.

“So damn beautiful,” he whispered against your ear, nipping your neck.

The sound of his phone ringing broke the moment but he scowled and ignored it.

“Rafe…” the sound of the phone pulled you from your pleasure-filled world. “Must be from work—”

“Fuck the meeting. They can manage without me.” He gathered some of your wetness and rubbed it over your pouting hole. “All you have to worry about is taking my load in your pussy.”

You squirmed from under him. “Hnn… You’re not playing with my pussy right now.”

“I’ll play with whichever part of you I want. I want you to wear that pretty diamond plug in your ass.”

“Later, now fuck me, please,” you whimpered at his powerful fullness filling you and not damn moving. “Move, come on, Rafe!”

The phone finally stopped ringing.

“Is that a promise?” he asked, eyes dark with desire.

“Yes! Do anything you want.” You mewled, blubbering his name repeatedly. “You always make me feel so good. Please, please.”

“I’m at your service, baby.”

Slowly, he slid out, his cock frothing with your wetness.

“Haah…” you clutched the sheets, “yes…”

And then back in. In and out, over and over again, burying himself into the hot, sweet pleasure of your cunt.

Panting and sweating, Rafe rotated his hips, his thrusts turning primal and sloppy. Reaching down, he touched where you were joined, manipulating your folds. He spread your outer lips, working on your clit. You gasped, whimpering and shifting restlessly as he pounded into you while rubbing you senseless.

It was so intense, so overwhelming and you could do nothing but take the pleasure he offered. Licking your dry lips, you rocked against him, sliding back and forth on his fat cock, never missing a beat. Rafe breathed in short sharp gasps, hunched over your body.

“I’m close,” he growled, gently slapping your clit. “Fuck—”

And then came the blinding moment of release.

You climaxed first, convulsing with spasms and Rafe followed, shoving his cock all the way inside, giving loud bellowing moans as he stuffed your pussy full of his seed. You felt the warmth and pressure as he emptied himself inside you, packing you so full while gripping your waist to make sure you stayed there and took it all.

You weren’t sure how much time passed with him bent over you, his forehead pressed to the curve of your neck, lazily kissing your skin. You still shivered with little aftershocks, a pleased smile on your face, your eyes fluttering slowly.

Rafe sighed as he angled his face to kiss your cheek and lips. Craning your head, you responded, opening your mouth to his tongue as he pulled his messy shaft out of you, still hard despite his release. A small whine escaped your throat as he shifted away, his warm hands rubbing your waist and ass.

“No,” he said, watching his seed leak out of you.

You winced a little at the sensation. “It’s too much—”

“Don’t move,” he cupped your ass, keeping you still. “I need every bit of it inside you.”

You couldn’t resist laughing. “Rafe Cameron, you shameless slut.”

“Slut for you and your pussy,” he said, his voice dark and husky.

“Stay,” you murmured, “inside.”

Gently, he set you on your side and spooning you from behind, he impaled you, inch by incredible inch. Air was forced from your lungs at the invasion. He hugged you, one hand fondling your breast, the other guiding your face to kiss you. He kissed you languidly, brushing his lips against yours, rubbing your flat belly as he whispered how pretty you’d look carrying his seed.

“I really really want this to work,” he whispered in between kisses.

“I know, baby,” you smiled against his mouth, stroking his cheek. “I want it too and I love how devoted you are in your mission.”

“I’ll make it happen.” He let his forehead rest against yours. “How are you feeling? I’m sorry for being so intense.”

“I love you for it, Rafe Cameron. And I feel like this time, it worked.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x oc #Rafe Cameron x female!reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fluff #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe smut #rafe x you #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe fic