#i would have posted this half an hour earlier but i could not for the life of me think up a title

[shivunin]

barges into your ask box!! hello/goodbye hugs that linger for fenris and maria 👀?

Can't barge in if the door is open! Thanks, Zen c: I'll have you know that this was originally two thousand words longer before I reconsidered, so...here is the happy version instead c: (the prompt list)

(Words: 2,548)

A Fond Farewell

In the early days, Fenris cataloged Hawke’s mannerisms out of suspicion. She was a mage, after all, for all that she’d helped him without the promise of recompense. It mattered little that she seemed to wear her heart on her sleeve. There might be some trick to her—no, had to be some trick—and it was wisest to watch her so he would be warned if the betrayal ever came.

So: Fenris watched her smile at the others, the way she would wrinkle her nose when Varric told an especially bad joke, the way she tipped her chin back and laughed with her whole body when she was pleased. He watched the way she fought, as if she’d been born doing it and it came as an afterthought to her now. 

But most of all, Fenris saw the way Hawke was always reaching out for someone.

In the beginning, she would pull in Carver whenever she told a story about Ferelden, elbowing his side or resting a hand on his shoulder while she gestured with the other. Her brother seemed used to the contact and did not react at all when she did so, as if this behavior was to be expected from her. 

Fenris didn’t understand it, but he didn’t need to; in the beginning, it was enough just to note that it was a habit of hers and move on.

Over time, her casual contact branched out to the others: she would drape her legs over Isabela’s lap when she was tipsy, and lean against Merrill’s side. She linked arms with Aveline when they walked, or rested an arm around Varric’s shoulder when one of them was telling a story. In those early days, there was plainly some awkwardness between her and the human mage—all of them saw it—but soon enough that faded, too, and she would prod Anders' shoulder when making some point or other as they walked.

It was as if she couldn’t help herself, as if she was actually reaching for something else and forever finding it in contact with others. 

More than any of these, Hawke always, always hugged her friends goodbye. 

Every one of them…except Fenris. 

On one of those early days, when they’d said long goodbyes outside the Hanged Man, she hugged the others and paused before him. Fenris stood on the periphery, watching her with narrowed eyes, and she surveyed him with a tilted head. 

“G’night, Fenris,” she said after a pause, smiling brightly, and reached behind her for her brother’s wrist, “Come on, Carver. Told you that girl wasn’t interested, or she’d be here by now.”

“But she said—” her brother began, already irritated, and the two of them walked away still arguing. 

Fenris, only mildly surprised, walked away without any further fanfare. He was not impressed by her decision to leave him be; he’d been indicating with every syllable of body language he had that he’d no desire to be touched. That she’d honored the unspoken request was good, but nothing especially notable—though, of course, he did file the interaction away with his other observations.

For a long time, this was how they parted: she would hug the others, perhaps even kiss their cheeks, and then she would pause before Fenris, smile at him, and say her goodnights. 

If he wondered what it might feel like to be touched by her, however briefly, outside the context of healing—well. He was the only one who needed to know what he wondered about when the lights were doused. 

It was at least a year before this habit changed, not until well after the disaster in the Deep Roads and the loss of her brother to the Wardens. There was sorrow, and a frantic span of time in which she adjusted to her newfound wealth and moved her mother to Hightown. During that time, Fenris began to wonder if she might be done with her old friends entirely. But no: only a few weeks after the move had commenced, Hawke was barging into Varric’s quarters with all the subtlety of a summer storm just she always did, and discarded her cloak over the back of a chair instead of on the coat rack. 

“Sorry,” she told the table at large, and settled onto the bench beside Fenris, “Didn’t mean to be late. Had to help a girl find her lost doll.”

“And you didn’t get mugged over it? Color me impressed, Hawke,” Varric said, dealing her in without a pause, “Haven’t missed much yet. Bela was telling us about her conquest of the week.”

“Oh, I’ve finished now,” Isabella said, rolling her eyes and lifting her tankard, “Not that I had any help, if you take my meaning.” 

Some small, hidden worry gradually lifted from Fenris’s shoulders at Hawke’s presence. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for the others; some of them were perfectly tolerable. It was just—Hawke made sense of their group. If she had left for good…Well. He’d begun to wonder if it was wise to stay in the city; that was all. Such considerations seemed less reasonable when she was sitting at the table, nudging Bela with her elbow while she described her mother’s choice in decoration. 

In the small hours of the morning, when they finally parted ways, the group exchanged their long, messy goodbyes as usual. Only—this time, Fenris stepped forward and set a hand on her elbow when he might otherwise have stood at a distance.

“Goodnight, Hawke,” he said, immediately regretting the change when her eyes went wide at him. 

“Oh!” she said. It was foolish, it was absurd, but for a moment it felt like the whole world hung in the balance. 

Then, just as she had with the others, Hawke reached for him. She did not embrace him, but instead set a hand on his shoulder and took a step closer. They were rarely so near each other unless one of them was bleeding, and then they usually had more urgent things to worry about. Fenris wondered how he’d never noticed before that her eyelashes were so dark and fine, or that smile line bracketed her mouth even when she wasn’t smiling. 

“Goodnight, Fenris,” she said, the lines around her mouth deepening, and then she dropped her hand and turned away, reaching for Aveline’s elbow. 

“Aveline,” she was already saying, unperturbed, “I have a question about a fine point of city law.”

“Maker, what now?” the other woman asked warily. 

“If one is nude in one’s own courtyard—” Hawke began, her voice trailing off as they walked away. 

Fenris stood for a moment, watching them, abruptly aware that he would need to walk up the same set of stairs to go home. Usually, he would be well up them before she even finished saying goodbye to the others. It felt…odd, somehow, to trail her home, if only because she followed the same route he did now. 

Best wait a moment, he thought, and caught the dwarf’s speculative glance when he turned. 

“What?” Fenris asked, pausing, and Varric shook his head. 

“Oh, nothing at all,” he said, turning for the door, “Goodnight, Fenris.”

“Yes,” Fenris said, and decided it would be best to round a corner before giving Hawke a lead up the stairs. 

It had been fine. 

It had been—it had just been a goodbye. She did it constantly; it meant nothing, and it meant nothing that he stood around the corner for nearly fifteen minutes thinking about what her hand on his shoulder had been like, and what he might have felt if she’d touched bare skin instead. 

In nights that followed, Fenris decided that it would be stranger to go back to the way they'd been. He would simply have to accept that cursory touches were part of his evenings from now on. Aveline was increasingly busy with the guard, and it seemed increasingly foolish to trail behind Hawke like a lost pup at the end of the night. Fenris walked with her instead, all the long way up the stairs to Hightown, parting at her door. This was not a problem; he’d have to walk that way regardless, and Hawke was good company. 

Goodbyes took place at her front door, between the two of them alone. The longer this remained their routine, the more casual it felt to talk with his hand resting on her shoulder or elbow. She went from carefully touching his shoulder to patting his chest or nudging his hip, and Fenris didn’t stop her. When she finally reached up to embrace him, it felt natural, normal, even inevitable. 

But here was the problem: Hawke had a habit of continuing conversations while she hugged the others goodbye, and Fenris was no exception. If she was midway through a point about something when she reached for him, she would keep on talking into his ear until she was finished or one of them pulled away. 

One of them—it was always Hawke who pulled away; Fenris found that he did not have the urge to let go of her so quickly, even if she’d wrapped her arms around his shoulders for several minutes. It was nothing; just another quirk of hers. There was no doubt in his mind that this was true. 

One evening, after nearly two years of this, she embraced him to say goodbye and spent at least ten minutes explaining one of the finer points of the horrible play they’d just finished watching. 

For his part, Fenris had missed much of it, so focused on not looking at Hawke that he hadn’t heard any of the dialogue and had only minimally absorbed the actual events onstage. He’d no idea how he’d wound up in this position after all that; he felt hot and itchy now, desperate to dance away and put distance between them. The longer she held on, the stronger the feeling grew, until at last he cleared his throat and interrupted her. 

“Hawke,” he said, and just that. 

It was easy enough to grasp her waist and set her away from him, and she let go without protest, wincing faintly. 

“Sorry!” she said, taking several steps back. 

In the light of the flames outside her front door, he could see the flush on her cheeks. 

“It is…fine,” he said, also taking several steps back, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she said faintly, and spun on her heel for the door. 

Fenris walked away before he had to think any harder about the interaction, but it was no use. He could still feel her breath against his neck, the lines of boning in her bodice pressed against his hands, and he couldn’t seem to banish the foreign urge that had seized him while he’d held her. He didn’t want to kiss Hawke—did he? 

He paced in his room for a time, scowling hard at his own feet over the broken tile. 

His clothes smelled like her. 

No; he would not think of it.

Hawke should be seeing someone else, someone who wasn’t on the run. Surely there was someone out there who could give her a better life, who would make her happy.

She’d blushed. He’d never seen Hawke blush. 

No, no; think of something else.

Surely she did the same thing to the others when she was in the middle of some explanation; surely this had meant nothing in particular, even if she had flirted with him in the past. 

Why could he still feel her in his arms? 

Frustrated, Fenris dragged a hand back through his hair. This was—it was simply an aberration. That was it. The next time they saw each other, she would say goodbye in her usual manner and that would be—it would be fine. 

More than fine. Yes. This would not be a problem.

Later that week, the two of them walked together up the stairs from Lowtown, companionably discussing the benefits of upgrading one’s armor to a higher class of steel. It seemed an ordinary enough evening, but when they reached her door she immediately turned toward the manor. 

“‘Night, Fenris,” she said cheerfully, and shut the door behind her. 

Fenris froze, hands slightly raised, and stared after her for a moment. 

This was…fine. 

Fenris had gone a very long time not touching Hawke. It should matter very little now that she hadn’t said goodbye. It shouldn’t bother him, and she was not obligated to—to—well, she could do whatever she wished. That was all. It was none of his affair. 

But she walked away without touching him the next night, and three days after that when they all met for drinks, and…

He’d had no idea how important that simple gesture had been to him until it was gone, and now he felt its absence as keenly as he felt the absence of his blade when he set it aside at night. The next time they saw each other, Fenris approached her door with grim determination.

“—and that’s why it never made any sense to me at all that there could be werewolves in Ferelden,” she was saying, waving a hand as she spoke, “I don’t care what the stories say, it’s illogical at best.”

“Quite,” Fenris said stiffly, and she glanced up at him, blowing a black curl away from her forehead. 

He wished, intensely, that he’d never noticed the way her lips pursed when she did that. 

“Everything alright?” she asked as they paused at her door. She was already angled toward the door, ready to walk away from him. Fenris sought an answer, but came up with nothing; he stepped forward and embraced her instead, his body moving before his mind could properly disagree. 

She sucked in a breath when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, but she returned the gesture readily enough. It was different holding her like this; she was slightly shorter than him, though Fenris rarely noticed. When she wasn’t reaching up for him, the top of her head rested just below his chin. 

There was—there was a scar on the top of her head that he’d never noticed before, arching across the center part of her hair. For a strange moment, Fenris was seized by the urge to press his lips to the point where the two lines met. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head instead, and she relaxed against him all at once. 

It was…nice. 

He admitted it to himself, tightening his arms slightly. It was pleasant to hold her; he enjoyed it. He liked the place where her arms had settled around his back. He liked how warm she was where the exposed skin of his upper arms touched hers. He liked the way her hair smelled, and he particularly liked the way she was holding him—as if she liked it, too. 

This was…Fenris needed to think about this. Slowly, reluctantly, he loosened his grip and stepped back. 

“Goodnight,” he said, his voice rough, “Hawke.”

“Goodnight, Fenris,” she said, her hands falling slowly until they rested at her sides again. 

Fenris took a deep breath, considering and discarding several other things to say. Instead, he smiled faintly—the best he could manage under the circumstances, just a quirk at one side of his mouth—and turned to walk away. 

He could have sworn he heard her sigh behind him—but perhaps that was only wishful thinking.

#maria hawke #fenris #fenris dragon age #fenhawke #fenris x hawke #f!hawke #da2 #da fanfic #my writing #i would have posted this half an hour earlier but i could not for the life of me think up a title #naming things: the eternal struggle #i might go back and finish the long version of this eventually but i was like...okay i don't need to recap their whole relationship #for each of these #also i didn't say it earlier but “touch” by july talk is the theme for this one #if there are errors in this pretend you didn't see them (unless they're egregious) #also zen i am taking a leaf out of your book and putting the word count on these from now on (if i can remember) #shivunin scrivening

[tamayokny]

earlier today, my irl bestie asked me how i was doing in relation to the loss of my nephew. i said that most days i feel fine but was unsure of how true that really is. (but i am doing better than my sister—this isn’t a dig, she’s going through the most out of anyone.) i also admitted that i try not to deeply reflect on things too much.

flash forward to about 9pm. my mom and i are talking about the kids. i start to bring up how my nephew was my little buddy, but as i reminisced, i had to stop. i began to tear up because it’s true. he was my little buddy and now he’s not here with us—he’ll be 11 years old forever. and that really sucks. his grandparents, parents, aunts, and uncles shouldn’t have outlived him. it’s unimaginable but an unfortunate reality that families battle through.

some days are better than others. but i think about my nephew every single day.

#Mads makes a text post #bereavement #my sister was right to say that life sucks #becuase it really does #the other day she asked why life sucks and why this happened #and all I could do was sadly tell her that I had no answer #anyway I cried for like half an hour after talking with my mom lol #but i’m better now #still sucks though but it is what it is! #I should have known I would have gotten emo #bc I really thought about junior earlier today

[wonuwonder]

kitchen talk ✦ jeon wonwoo

they’re fighting, … again, but it gets hot

content: 1.5k words, fluff, smut, fem reader x wonwoo. established relationship. warnings: slight manhandling, unprotected sex (pls wrap it) anything else lmk! minors dni

Wonwoo and you had had a fight, about something that you couldn’t even remember anymore, so now you were locked inside your room completely ignoring your boyfriend who was left behind in the living room. You heard him turn the tv off about half an hour ago, so he probably was already sleeping by now.

As the fight had happened right before dinner, you were starving, you hadn’t eaten anything since launch, and when Wonwoo came to the door afterwards to bring you something to eat, you were way too stubborn to accept it.

You got up to got to the kitchen, careful not to wake him up as you opened the door that connected to the living room. His back was turned against your room, so he didn’t notice. You opened the fridge and found the little bowl he had left for you, with a post-it that said;

‘Please eat, let’s talk later’

It warmed your heart honestly, making you smile lightly, knowing he would do something like this even if you were arguing. You put it in the microwave, trying to make as less noise as possible, you knew your boyfriend had a light sleep.

Turning around you found him staring at you leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed in front of his chest, scaring the hell out of you. He was wearing a long sleeve shirt that made his muscles stand out, and a pair of grey sweatpants that drove you crazy.

“Wonwoo! god - you gasped- you scared the shit out of me!”

“Oh i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to-“ he smirked mockingly at your reaction and suddenly you could remember everything about your stupid fight earlier. The microwave beeped, telling you your food was ready so you turned around to plate it.

Your boyfriend let out a deep sigh and approached you from behind, resting his two big hands on the counter in front of you, locking you in front of him. You froze for a second, but kept doing your thing with the food, trying your best to ignore his presence. But he was determined to fluster you, he hid his head in your shoulder, making you shiver, as he started leaving sloppy kisses all around your neck.

“…Wonwoo- you sighed- what do you want?” you asked.

“Your attention” he answered softly and it almost broke your heart.

You gave up, now resting your head against his chest meeting his eyes, as he was much taller than you. He burried his head in the crook of your neck, hugging you from behind inhaling your sweet smell.

“I’m sorry y/n, let’s not fight anymore, i should’ve listened to you” he continued to kiss your neck

“i’m sorry too, we always get too riled up instead of talking-” you turned your head towards him and gave him a quick peck “now let me eat because i’m starving” you continued.

“You know what?, I have a better idea” he said slowly biting the hem of you ear, he let go of his tight grip resting one hand against the counter again, and the other on your waist, pressing you from behind with his crotch, grunting softly, making you feel his growing erection.

“Staring at your ass is always fun until it leaves me like this” he kissed your neck, definitely leaving a mark this time, making you whimper in pleasure.

You were wearing one of his big t-shirts and panties which meant easy access, so he quickly presses his hand against your clothed pussy.

“I barely touched you and you’re this wet already?” he asks smirking- “weren’t you supposed to be mad at me babe?” he scoffs.

“Loose the attitude or you’re not getting anything” you say half annoyed half turned on by his banter.

He starts to move his fingers in circles against your clit, but he stops turning you around, grabbing your thighs, “Up” he says and you do so, sitting on the counter, intertwining your legs around his hip, he squeezes your thighs and starts kissing you passionately, the kiss getting hotter by the minute.

He starts toying with the hem of your shirt dying to get it off, and you do just that, displaying yourself for him, you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful y/n” wonwoo says.

He gets closer to you and starts playing with your tits, licking your nipples making you moan instantly, caressing the other with his hand. When he kisses your mouth again, you start tugging at this shirt, desperately trying to see more of him.

“Get it off” you demand.

“Okay, bossy” he scoffs, and does just like you told him - god he was ripped- you thought.

You feel his abs almost instantly, trying to bring him more against you, although it was physically impossible to be closer, you couldn’t get enough of him.

“Like what you see?” he says with the biggest smirk on his face, kissing you again.

Settling his hands on your thighs he spreads you open, almost drooling at the sight, he moves your panty to the side and inserts one finger, you exhale deeply and start kissing him again, in between kisses he presses another finger to your entrance, grunting on your lips, making you moan, arching your back, your perky nipples touching his chest.

“Wonwoo I- I need you” you moan in-between kisses.

Extending your hand to stroke his bulge from under his pants, it was painfully hard by now.

“Fuck” he grunts.

He looses his pants and boxers at the same time and his cock springs out almost reaching his belly button. You take a moment to really look at your boyfriend, he was perfect, and so fucking hot. You reach for him, and start stroking and pumping his dick again, making him moan loudly, kissing him and leaving marks on his chest and neck, while he plays with your pussy, caressing your clit and folds with his fingers.

“Babe I can’t wait much longer” he says.

You stop to look him in the eye and kiss him again.

“Me neither” you reply, your lips already swollen from all the kissing.

He stretches the straps of your panties making them hit your skin lightly, reminding you still got them on, you gasp out loud from the sudden flick.

“Off, baby, now” he demands - how could he be so hot?- you thought.

You do as he says and get them off very slowly taking your time to tease him, as he follows you carefully with his eyes, you spread yourself even more on top of the counter, making him drool. He grabs your thighs and pulls you closer to him roughly, the both of you moaning as his dick grazes your entrance, and you start rubbing yourself impatiently against him, coating yourself and him with your wetness.

“Fuck Wonwoo you’re so big” you whimper.

“You can take it” he grunts back reassuring yourself -as always- and positions himself in front of your entrace.

His cock was long and thick, he starts making his way inside of you, it wasn’t even half in, and you already felt so full, gripping your thighs he pushes all of his cock inside you, stretching you open, making you cry out loud because of the stretch.

“That’s right baby, you can take it” you suck a breath in and while he waits for you to adjust to his size.

He leaves soft kisses all over your chest and shoulders.

“Alright move, I need m-more” you say, and in no time he’s moving slowly inside of you, and when you relax more into him, he starts picking up the pace. “Ugh you feel so good baby” you moan arching your back for him, pulling his hair.

“Oh yeah? you like that?” he grunts and goes harder on you, already taking you to the edge.

“Wonwoo i’m- i’m close”, he thrusts in one more time and pulls out of your pussy, making you clench around nothing.

He pulls you down, turning your hips around, and bends you over the counter, manhandling you like crazy, which turned you on even more. He smacks your ass and grips it tightly spreading your cheeks for him, meeting your entrance again with his cock, all you can do is moan and whimper in pleasure, taking what your boyfriend gives you. You rest your hand against the marble counter steading yourself as he’s pounding you from behind.

“Fuck you feel so good around me” he whimpers, gaining nothing but a moan from you back.

“I’m-m gonna” you start, barely getting your words out.

“I know baby me too” you can feel his cock throbbing inside you, clenching hard around him as he thrusts deeply into you.

You both come undone at the same time, breathing like crazy. His thrusts become sloppy as he moves in a couple more times and then slowly pulls out of you, his cum dripping out of your cunt.

He flips you around to look at you. You’re both smiling like idiots, resting your forehead against his, he kisses you softly. Feeling you get tired he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his hips, grunting lightly at the sensation again.

“C’mon baby, lets get washed up and eat together this time” he says finding your gaze in the dim light of the kitchen, leaving a quick kiss to your lips again. Gosh you loved him so much.

an: posted a new wonwoo drabble smut🤭 toast rule (m)

#wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen #wonwoo #wonuwonder #seventeen fluff #seventeen reactions #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo drabble #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #wonwoo reaction #wonwoo imagines #seventeen oneshots #seventeen hard thoughts #seventeen hard hours

[euaphoric]

🕸️ KINKTOBER - DAY 1. 🕸️

Show You What Devotion Is . . .

[PAIRING] jungkook x f!reader

[GENRE] bf/gf, established relationship, pwp [WARNINGS] fluff, smut, small mentions of insecurities, body worship, devotion kink, face-sitting, biting, spit kink (sorta, kinda?)

summary: you don’t think you’re good enough for your boyfriend but he proves those thoughts wrong by showing just how much undying love he truly has for you.

wc -> 2.0k

A/N: first post of the month, 30 more to go woohoo~ so excited to do this and hopefully this’ll help me get a better idea of what i like/don’t like writing in the future. **fyi oc is told that she tastes like candy but obvi in the real world if ur hoo-ha tastes like candy that’s not normal .. o_O buttt this is fiction so just pretend they can sjdjfjsjjs.

kinktober m.list

this day simply couldn’t get any worse. you missed the bus back home just by a fraction of a minute, all because you wanted to speak with your professor at his office hours but now in hindsight, you wished you never did. it was practically a waste of time anyway, he wasn’t giving much worthy feedback on your presentation and the anxiety about your final grade grew rampant as the semester progressed. ‘fuck, guess’ll wait for the next one in 15’ you mumble to yourself, annoyed and exhausted from earlier’s events. one side of you just wants to call jungkook to come pick you up but your other subconscious is telling you that’s selfish— don’t make him drive all the way here when you can just wait a measly 15 more minutes.

sigh~

it won’t kill you to wait, it’s not like you were in a rush to see him right now. it was actually quite the opposite, you weren’t prepared to tell him how you completely bombed your presentation. well, you wouldn’t say completely but it definitely wasn’t up to your impossibly high standards. public speaking was the only class you struggled with the most, you could articulate your words precisely in writing but saying it out loud? that was a totally different story. you have to outgrow this “fear” over speaking in front of an audience if you want to practice law one day. no one’s going to take you seriously if you can’t even read a single paragraph without tripping over syllables. all you could do was replay those embarrassing moments and internally cringe, almost missing the bus again from being so deep in thought— what a nightmare.

˖⁺‧₊˚ᰔᩚ˚₊‧⁺˖

“baaabyyyy!” the sweet sound of jungkook’s voice instantly made everything better, at least for now. his peachy soft lips went straight to your face almost immediately, smothering you with dozens of kisses while caging his beautiful, toned arms around your willowed frame. “you came home so late, was expectin’ you half an hour agooo.” he whines immaturely, holding you so tight he’s nearly squeezing you at this point. he must’ve really missed you. “i missed the bus… i wanted to talk with my professor about my presentation and thought i could make it but i guess not..” you pause, thinking if you should share what’s really crossing your mind, “…i was gonna call you to pick me up but didn’t think it was worth all that hassle.” now hearing yourself say that out loud makes it seem like he isn’t a reliable boyfriend, he very much is, it’s just the over-thinker in you. it’ll mark your 2 years of dating next week yet somehow you still felt like you were burdening him at times.

if the embodiment of ‘???’ was a person, that would be jungkook right about now; he couldn’t fathom you thinking such unlawful things. “hassle? what’re you talking about love, nothing is a hassle for me when it comes to you, absolutely nothing. next time you need me don’t hesitate to call babe,” he reassures sincerely. loosening his embrace momentarily to turn you around, he brings your chests together while his hands wrap your pretty waist, feeling his rapid heartbeat against yours. “i’m serious, you better call me next time.” the sternness of his voice alarming you that he’ll probably lecture you for this. he texts you hourly just to check in and make sure you’re okay, a simple drive to pick you up is the bare minimum to him. “well besides that.. how’d your presentation go?” jungkook’s doe-like eyes widen as he interrogates with questions. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” you silently mutter, already dreading what the final grades were going to be. “that bad, huh?” he proceeds with even more questions, “did you remember like we practiced last night?” you nod, lowering your head to stare at the floor, confidence dwindling by the second.

it truly hurts him to see you upset over something you’ve worked so passionately on, all just for it to feel ruined in the end. he hates that you’re not your usual bubbly and cute self, it makes him do everything he can to cheer you up. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it now, i get it. you probably did well though, i bet you messed up like one time and no one even noticed ‘cause you’re so pretty!” he teases, inked, slender digits trail up to find solace on your chin, lifting your head up to face each other again. “stop stressing over dumb little imperfections, it never ends well.” “oh, you’re one to talk!” you whine into his chest, unable to deal with his hypocrisy. not jungkook of all people giving you this speech when he is literally the #1 perfectionist king. “and i’m not even that pretty..” you quietly mumble, hoping he wouldn’t catch that. “wait, what did you just say?!” his voice raised an octave of confusion, you would think someone had just told him the most horrific story, but no, here he is on the verge of a mental breakdown over his girlfriend feeling insecure. “i said i’m not that—” “no no, i heard you the first time. my brain just isn’t registering the fact that you don’t think you’re anything less than a walking goddess of this earth.” he was flabbergasted to hear you talk with such low confidence, “sometimes, i feel like you can do so much better..” that’s what fully broke his heart as you spoke, it pained him to know you harbored all these feelings deep down inside.

the only answer in solving this dilemma is by being a better boyfriend to you, showering you with even more compliments than he already does daily, and most importantly, proving that he is 100% devoted to you and you only.

˖⁺‧₊˚ᰔᩚ˚₊‧⁺˖

eyes half-lidded in lust, limbs spasming and going numb from the continuous stimulation, you can’t do much but moan out jungkook’s name on an endless loop. the first hour, jungkook took his heavenly time with your delicate, angelic body. everything about you is divine to him, he wants to appreciate every single inch of you, even the parts you despise. he dedicated his lips to kissing and pleasuring your whole body, leaving no surface of you untouched. he’d rave in between kisses about how beautiful you are, how lucky he is and how he’s willing to do anything to make you happy. if being love-drunk was a disease, he’d rather fall into a coma and never wake up than find the cure. he’s living his best life as he cherishes your innate beauty, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs as he reaches them, taking ample time to caress and praise your dreamy body. he’s always had a thing for your cute plush thighs, the way they’d bounce and jiggle when he plays with them makes him all giddy inside. he can never get enough of them or you, leaving numerous bite marks and coating them with his spit, “you’re a work of art princess, a masterpiece. don’t think any different.” jungkook murmured against you, voice laced with pure seduction and infatuation.

body buzzing in anticipation as he kept working his way up, leaving a chaste peck to your left and right hip bone, firmly gripping your thighs as he drags his lips to your center. the urge to make out with your cunt was insatiable for him, he needed his face buried between your legs, there was no place he’d rather be. “after this you’re gonna use my face as your throne and m’gonna give you the most mind blowing orgasm, capeesh?” jungkook props his head up for a second before kissing below your belly button. “c-capeeshh.” you hazily reply, mind still fuzzy from just his kisses and touch alone. you know you’re in for a wild ride whenever you sit on your boyfriend’s face, he always eats you like a starved man and makes sure you cum multiple times, he takes such pride in himself for having you be a twitching and moaning mess by the end of it all. his only goal and mission for the night was to make you feel so good that you reach your climax hard enough to see memories of your life flash before your eyes. as he made his way up to your waist, you melt into his warmth, craving him more and more as time goes on. you thought you felt your soul leave your body when he unsuspectingly attaches his mouth to your nipple, babbling nothing coherent as you rut your hips into nothing.

as much as jungkook wanted to keep the teasing going, he was so down bad to have you sit on his face in this moment, ready to show exactly how much love and obsession he has for you. “need you so bad babe.. need to taste you,” he sighs, shamelessly gawking over you as he maneuvers you on top. “you’re so fuckin’ sexy mama... would love to be in between these pretty thighs for the rest of my life.” you couldn’t help but blush at his dirty talk, feeling flustered as you slide off your damp polka dot panties, watching as he licks his lips, planning to devour you whole. jungkook was so excited, you’re always scared of hurting him whenever you sit on his face but he reassures you often that he’ll be fine, “you’re not gonna kill me babe, trust me. even if you did i think it’d be sick to put ‘died from too much pussy juice’ on my gravestone anyway.” he lightly jokes, never taking anything in the slightest bit serious. you position your lower half, hovering over his face as he stares directly at your wetness. the tent in his boxers only surged, he was so hopelessly attracted to you, he could cum just from giving you head.

“fuuuu- oh my god so good, so good! yess, keep going babyy..” your legs shake violently as you rock your hips back and forth, rendering a steady motion against your boyfriend’s soothing tongue. as you throw your head back in pleasure and delight, jungkook grips onto your thighs for dear life, using every bit of manpower he possessed in making sure you don’t move away. “mmmhh~” he’d hum into your sensitive, eliciting the harmonious moans he loves to hear every night. you clutch onto the floral sheets of the bed, hand full of jet-black hair in the other. “mmm.. taste so sweet for me..” he grunts against your dripping core, “like candy..” a few more sloppy licks then he’s back to aggressively sucking your clit. you were grinding his face with more speed and didn’t care as much about hurting him anymore, if he really was uncomfortable he’d speak up. jungkook would never do that though, you are his goddess and he wants this night to be all about pleasing you. “uhhh, t-think m’gonna cum..” you felt that familiar knot in your tummy, hips subconsciously rutting faster into his mouth as eyes roll to the back of your head. you couldn’t tell much of his condition below you but his stamina never slowed, eating you out with everlasting hunger as his grip refuses to unravel. “cum for me princess, please.” his encouraging words help reach your high, feeling a whole new state of nirvana as your chest heaves, “fuck, jungkook, i love you!” you cry out, clenching around his tongue as he licks every crevice of you clean. the room spun around as you catch your breath, having trouble regaining your balance for a split second.

you droop down onto your heavy panting boyfriend’s chest, lightly sticking to his dewy skin from all the built up sweat. “sooo, how’re you feeling now compared to earlier? did it work? are all your insecurities vanished and gone now?” he’s back to his normal self again, asking his little series of questions. you giggle, “i feel great koo, definitely helped me relax..” flashing a warm smile as he reaches out for you to cuddle, “i must’ve done some life-changing shit in my past lives to deserve someone as good as you.”

#kinktober 2023 #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x f reader #jungkook fic #bts fics #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabbles

[roseykat]

TITLE: Venom Biter

PAIRING: Minho x reader

SUMMARY: The end of a relationship between you and Minho turns as sour as it could ever get. A lovers to enemies trope.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

TAGS: breakups, hate sex, post-breakup sex, unprotected sex, swearing, angst, manhandling, push and shove, spitting, choking, oral sex (f!reader receiving), angst, strong hints of degradation, use of degrading names such as 'slut' and 'whore'.

A/N: this was originally meant to be for one of the days I had planned for Kinktober but I was up to my neck in work and I didn't want to post something sort of half-assed so I had to hone down on most of the work for this piece.

MASTERLIST

“Broke up?” Chan’s eyes refuse to blink. “You two broke up!?”

His confused filled stare shoots for the direction of his best friend, Minho, who quietly sits opposite him across the table. He looks slightly withdrawn or…off colour. It can’t have been the gruelling two hour lecture they finished before heading out to lunch. If it were that, Minho would be complaining his head off saying how boring it was or cursing himself for not changing his minor earlier. 

He’s just not his usual self. In other social settings, he could talk until the cows came home. But the entire hour that they’ve spent together at lunch, Chan has been doing all the conversing and only receiving vague one-word answers. It wasn’t until he asked what was up with Minho that his friend dished out the news that he and his girlfriend - you, had split up.

“Why?” Chan proceeds, still swimming in shock.

A sigh leaves Minho’s mouth. He truly doesn’t feel like revisiting this subject. When he even thinks about the answer, all he can recall is the firey shouting match you both had the day things crumbled. 

“It’s messy,” he replies with a cloudy and ambiguous answer. 

“If you talk about it, then it might help you make sense of it all.”

He groans this time, “I really, really don’t want to do that. What’s done is done.” 

“Done?” Chan questions, still not letting up on an interrogation. “You were in a relationship with Y/N, for years. You guys talked about a whole future together. That’s not something you just sweep under the rug and forget about.”

If there’s one thing he almost did forget about, it’s that you were friends with him - not just Chan, but the seven others as well. After all, it was Minho who introduced you to those select people whom he calls his brothers. They would’ve found out eventually if Minho refrained from telling them who you were dating all those years ago.

Though naturally, you became very close with them. 

“We’ve both chosen to do that so there’s nothing really much left to dispute.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrow, realising he left out a crucial question to the situation, “why did you guys break up in the first place?”

Minho feels like he’s going to run out of sighs, “she doesn’t love me anymore and I don’t love her anymore. That’s literally all there is to it.” 

“You’re telling me you both fell out of love - at the same time,” Chan responds, still having a difficult time trying to comprehend his friend's situation.

“Pretty much,” Minho confirms with a nod. 

Chan finds that extremely hard to believe from his friend - the very person who would enter a different realm whenever he was in a five centimetre radius of you. His eyes would glaze over as if he were possessed; always fixated on you, he’d smile more than he usually would, and was comfortable in the space around you. 

There had to be another reason, surely. 

But it had almost been three weeks since Chan dissected the news out of Minho, and it was almost like pulling teeth trying to dive for the details. Each attempt was as fruitless as the next and in the end, Chan just plucked the same answers.

Regardless, it seemed to play out better than expected. Minho saved himself from having to dish out explanations as to why you wouldn’t be around anymore. As a result, telling Chan was the best option and since the others didn’t know, Minho was okay with him telling them so that he didn’t have to. 

In saying that, Minho left out very central details of what happened leading up to the breakup. He never mentioned the constant fighting, the lying, the false accusations, the shouting matches, up until the point where you were both swimming in the toxicity the pair of you created. 

He also absconded from the fact to Chan that not only did you both separate, but you’ve also both come to view the other differently and not through a good lens. Minho shouted it in your face the other day to which you did the same; “I hate you.” And that was that.

But his friends probably didn’t need to know all of that. 

Since that day, you’ve been in the process of trying to find an apartment for yourself which isn’t easy. You want to remain in town and not too far out so that you don’t have a long commute to work, and at the same time, you don't want to break the bank trying to find a nice place to rent in the city. All in all, it was tough, but you were ready to just leave. 

Having packed up the majority of your stuff in boxes, all you had to do was wait for landlords to contact you back about possible vacant apartments. Thankfully Minho was lenient in allowing you to stay until you found a place. 

You slept in the spare room, mainly keeping to yourself and the boxes of things surrounding the space. Occasionally you would have to lock yourself in there and throw on some noise-cancelling headphones whenever Minho brought around another woman to sleep with.

It was his house, you knew that and now that you have no ties to him and he’s letting you stay, it was never your place to question his actions. 

Still, that could never lessen the hurt. It was painful which is why you hated him so much. You don’t know how a person could move on so quickly after so many years of being told how much you’re loved. It was like he never meant it. With that being said, when you eventually managed to find a decent place, you were free from Minho. 

All of your items were ready to be moved out, taking a couple of days to actually get them to your new place. In the tiring process, you also had to factor in your work schedule which meant it would take longer to continue moving your stuff. Nonetheless, you had the majority of your boxes out of Minho's house with only a few remaining that you needed to swing by and pick up.

"Something wrong?" he wears a blank look on his face when you arrive on the doorstep to his house.

"Some of my stuff is still here, can I come in to grab it please?" You ask politely. He gives a silent answer in return by opening his door wider for you to walk in before he goes back to whatever it was he was doing.

You make your way into the spare room where the last of your things remain, but there is one odd detail you notice as you approach the items. What was supposed to be taped down lids to the boxes had in fact been opened; not in the state you had originally left it in. 

"Minho," you call out, hoping he heard you.

Sure enough, he did. Minho walks into the spare room with a puzzled expression, wondering why he's been summoned, "what?"

“Why are these open?” You ask, lifting one box off of the other to check if the rest were open as well. “Half of my stuff isn’t in here.”  

“You were coming back for those?” he replies with a question. 

“What the hell else would I be coming back here for?” 

“That's what I thought when you got here,” he says. “I thought it was for other things that you left behind, not ones in these boxes."

Your eyes never leave his face, tracking any sudden shifts in his muscles to try to figure out if he’s actually telling the truth or not. Even though you and Minho aren’t together, you're sure he wouldn't do anything malicious out of spite.

“So why is half my stuff missing?” 

Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, “I thought you didn’t need any of it and that you left it here on purpose for me to deal with or throw out.” 

“So what…” you trail off, expecting his answer. Minho hesitates for a few moments, sitting on the fence about whether he should actually tell you or not. But the least he can do right now is be honest. 

“I told the…girl I bought around the other day that if she wanted anything-“ 

“No you fucking didn’t.” 

“-she could have whatever was left in the boxes,” Minho finishes the rest of his sentence which would’ve been better for you not to hear. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you for leaving them behind in the first place!” Minho argues back, trying to defend himself here even though he knows he’s in the wrong. “You were gone for a few days Y/N, I thought you just left!” 

“I never left them behind! I told you how long it was going to take my things to move!” You shout at him, tears brimming your eyes. “Now my stuff…”

The hurt genuinely sets in. Minho feels a sharp stab of pain in his chest when he sees how visibly upset you are. He knows that he’s been nothing short of a dickhead within the past month and now he’s gone and made things worse. It’s no point in him now to say that it was an honest mistake.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, truly.”

You shove him backwards into the dresser, knocking down some of the empty photo frames that were once homes for pictures of you and Minho, “you’re not sorry. You’re the fucking worst.”

Taken aback by your actions, Minho turns behind him to see the frames flat on the surface then looks back at you, “seriously Y/N, I would not have done that out of spite.”

“But it’s the fact that you still did it!” You raise your voice at him and shove him back again. “You didn’t bother calling or texting me about it when you should’ve!” 

Minho predicts your next move and catches your arms to stop you from pushing him back impossibly further into the dresser. He shoves you back, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed which causes you to land on it behind you.

Before the surprise kicks in, Minho is kneeling on top of you, nearly straddling your lower half as he starts pinning your arms to the side of your head. Yet with a split second of momentum to break free, you struggle but manage to flip the tables and pin Minho on his back. 

You mount his hips before your mouth comes down to kiss Minho so aggressively that it takes him a moment to react. With any other woman that he’s slept with so far, he would allow them to be on top. But because it’s you, and supposedly hates your guts, not to mention his untapped pride, it’s not going to happen. So Minho fights back, kissing and biting nearly every part of your upper body in the process until you’re under him. 

He sucks large, deep, red hickies into the skin of your neck, in places where everyone would be able to see them. Minho would want people to know that you’re just a whore he uses. Especially for the next guy you sleep with who would go down on you and see the myriad of hickies that Minho would eventually put between your thighs when he rips your pants down. 

“Wanna play this fucking game with me,” he rasps before yanking down your off. 

Despite being a dickhead Minho will still eat you out for prep. But it’s not soft and teasing when he does go down on you. It’s tongue and finger fucking you until you’re dizzy from how hard you’re about to cum. It gives you the opportunity to pull and tug on his hair until his scalp starts burning, forcing you to be as vocal as you’ve ever been. 

His fingers curl up into that sensitive spot while his tongue and mouth work simultaneously. He’s always been good at giving head, but unusually better now that he’s relatively angry. In the back of your mind, you supposed it helped having not slept with anyone for a month, making it easier to reach that peak of delicious, eye-rolling ecstasy. 

“Fuck!” you scream out, voice projecting throughout the room as Minho sucks on your clit. “Fuck you…you’re gonna make me cum.” 

Those words are something Minho could never get tired of hearing you say. Even in the headspace that he’s in now, he wants nothing more than to hear how good he’s making your body feel. However, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation from you to know that you’re about to cum. When your walls seize and clamp around his fingers, when you’re trembling around his head, Minho knows what that means. 

The quick drag of his fingers is only light work for him, pumping at a pace that has you panting to try and keep up with it. As a result, it’s not long before Minho brings you to your sweet release; a toe-curling burst of euphoria that has you silently creaming around his fingers. 

He has no patience for you to descend from your orgasm, sucking his fingers clean as he pulls away from your pussy. He gets to unbuckling his belt faster than he can even comprehend that this is still happening. 

“H-Hurry,” you whine, trying to quell the hunger for Minho’s cock while you wait.

His eyes squeeze shut, hissing as he coats his length with your slick, “shut the fuck up.”

Despite being in a haze post-orgasm, you manage to sit up quickly to turn and push Minho down by his shoulders. You find yourself straddling his hips once more, reaching down and behind for his cock, aligning it with your hole. Minho allows you to work for it yourself, watching his cock vanish by the second as you sink down. 

“Mmm…f-fuck,,” you whine, unable to come to grips with how much you miss him filling you out. 

Taking a couple of slow strokes up and down allows you to realise that never in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine hate sex with Minho would be this…rough. Both of you pushing, shoving, and manhandling each other around, speaking to each other with such disregard for the other person's feelings – beyond the point of degradation.

“Come on,” Minho grunts, fingernails embedding themselves into your hips so that the indents remaining become as equally as vibrant as the hickies blooming on your neck. 

You look down at him with disgust before your hand lowers to his throat, choking him out by the sides of his neck. That familiar feeling of restriction to Minho forces him to repress his sick enjoyment of it, even more so when you start really riding him. 

“Fuck you,” you strain out, trying to assert some degree of control even though you’re battling with oversensitivity from your previous orgasm. 

You slam your hips down repeatedly, building up a good pace and rhythm that’s enough for small moans to force their way out of your mouth. With a cock like Minho’s, it’s impossible to keep quiet no matter how much you try. However, as you work for your own orgasm, you don’t want to give him any satisfaction by making him think that he’s the one doing it; yet in reality, he is. 

Nonetheless, you continue to use him just as much as he’s using you until the luxury of pleasure accelerates in the pit of your stomach. In saying that, it doesn’t take long for Minho to find that information out as you continue to ride him. The observation is clear-cut;

“Nobody’s fucked you since me haven’t they?” He asks you breathlessly, watching you roll your hips deliciously over his cock. “Know how I can tell? Because you keep fucking clenching around my dick.”

Your eyebrows furrow, struggling to find an answer for him because he is right and that’s not your fault, “s-so what? Want me to stop?” 

“Didn’t say that, did I?” He argues back, too proud to say ‘no’. “Just…just keep moving.”

A firm hand of yours catches his taut jaw, and while his mouth is open, you lean down and spit right in it. 

You curse right at him, “fuck you.” 

His eyes lock with yours and for a moment, Minho is shocked, but not in a bad way. In that moment you despised him so much that he made you do something a normal person would find disgusting. Although it’s not long before a sick smirk spreads across his face, failing to pretend as if he didn’t just enjoy that, swallowing it back. 

“Course you’d be into that you fucking whore,” he rasps, his body jolting every time your hips slam down. 

“I’m not the whore who’s taking it,” you snipe back at him. 

Your comment riles Minho, resulting in him nearly bucking you off his body before flipping you onto your stomach. He yanks both of your hands behind your back as something for him to latch onto when he pushes his cock back into you, and starts fucking hard and fast. 

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck…” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut. 

The new angle makes his dick slip in just that extra bit deeper, achieving a sensation which you miss all too much. With the amount of relentlessness that Minho puts behind his thrusts is nothing but a fast, brutal, and unforgiving type of fucking. He’s not holding back with you, no matter how much you hate him and he hates you, he will fuck you to tears.

“Such a fucking slut,” he drives forward nastily. “Needy, loud, slut.” 

Your choked moans and whimpers are typical responses to hearing him call you that name again. In bed, if you weren’t his lover, you were his slut. Minho wouldn’t care less if the bed broke beneath him trying to fuck you like the whore you always wanted him to treat you as. But it was phenomenal.  

Now, that’s only a distant memory clawing to come back. 

“Make me cum…make me fucking cum,” you demand, acknowledging how close you are to the cliff of ecstasy.

Minho's breathing picks up from hearing the pure desperation in your voice, and so does his pace. His only release is not but a minute away, respecting that and also his motive to continue rearranging your guts. 

Yet the possibility of keeping up any longer draws to a short term. Minho’s hold on your wrists behind your back becomes a solid death grip with no chance of escape until the wet heat from your pussy has his hips jumping out of rhythm. 

His head tilts to the sky, the pleasure screaming at him from the base of his cock, “y-yes, fuck I'm cumming.”

At that very instant, Minho’s release rocks him over. His hands let go of yours in lieu of grabbing onto your ass instead. The pain and sting of his fingernails scraping deep into your flash forces strained whimpers and mewls from your throat, helping to push you over the verge of your second orgasm. 

“Y-Yes, cumming, oh fuck-” you cry out with a shaky voice, stiffening while your hole seizes rhythmically around Minho’s length. 

The pleasure is throat-gripping, making you forget the words to express how good you feel. Except, in the vapour of your orgasmic haze, you still don't want to accept the fact that it's Minho who makes you feel that way.

He pauses for a moment then thrusts hard back into you, making you keep the warm load that you were so undeservingly given, regardless if your walls are spasming and contracting it out. Then just as he was fast to try to get inside you, he's just as fast when he pulls out and flops beside you.

The air in the room becomes breathable again now that your heart rate isn't racing to the heavens, but picks back up quickly when you decide to hop off the bed and get dressed. You couldn't care less if you were sore and unbalanced. The thought of staying in the room with Minho any longer was suffocating.

“About your stuff,” he starts, filling the silent void with an exasperated voice. “I’ll try to get it back.” 

You zip your jeans up, “don’t bother. I know you did give it away for whatever reason, but for what reason is something I’m betting you’ll take to the grave with you.” 

Minho is up and now following suit by putting his clothes on. If now is the time to get one thing off of his chest, it’s now. Since the day you both separated, there has been no proper conversation. Both of you are too stubborn to admit wrongs and fix rights, but in your eyes, it's too far gone. There’s no going back to a good thing that was once more. 

"I won't if we can just talk it out," he offers the opportunity to you.

“Minho, the nights that I had to listen to you fuck someone else in the next room right after we just broke up was a clear sign that we did not need to talk it out. All it made me do is realise that you didn't actually love me."

“That’s not true,” he shakes his head as you hear a twinge of desperation in his voice like he's pleading his case. "That's not true at all."

"It is though," you correct him. "You were free to sleep with whoever you wanted to because we had broken up at that point, but not a day after that did you wait."

Minho follows through with his explanation, “I was trying to get you out of my head. Spending too long just thinking about you makes me want to lose it. It didn't mean that I never loved you before."

“So you’re just going to continue being delusional? To fuck your way through trying to forget me?” You question, nearly laughing. "I honestly think you're just being pathetic."

He shrugs, “if it means that I don’t have to feel heartbreak, then yes.”

Part of you gets it. Minho’s found a vice and is using it as a tool to deal with his pain. But you’re in pain too, and you haven’t done anything to upset him ever since you split. Maybe it is as bad for him as he says it is. Maybe he doesn’t truly know how to navigate himself out of this like you’re attempting to.

It’s almost a rebuttal to your statement about whether he truly loved you or not; if he’s using other people to drive the thought of you out of his brain because it’s too painful to deal with, then maybe you were more than just a lover to him. 

"I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I cannot stand being around you anymore because of how much it hurts to know that you're not actually with me. I'd rather try to forget your existence in order to not feel that type of heartbreak," Minho explains, his words coming from a place inside him that must've just opened up.

But he continues, "the second we split, I needed every last memory of you out of this house. But I know that this hurts you too and that this past month I’ve hurt you and that’s no justification to say that my reason is because you mean more than my entire life.”

There’s an ache in your chest that you’ve never felt before, a blend of all the emotional pain that could’ve been prevented had the two of you just talked. But that ache is fuelled by the fact that you can hear the waiver in Minho’s voice, and even though his back is still turned to you while he sits on the edge of the bed, you’re sure he’s crying.

-

A/N: Dare I say that I want to make a part 2 to this where Minho and reader try to rekindle, things are pretty tender but they sort of want to make it work...

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader

[mavrintarou]

[11:16 PM] Sakusa Kiyoomi

It's been a while since I last posted about Omi-Omi. Happy (belated) Valentine's Day!

Warning: mild angst but reconciled and happy smut (18+)

.

Kiyoomi set his gym bag in the usual spot of his apartment. Tonight, his home felt unusually cold and empty.

Switching the lights on, he is met with two floating balloons and a bag with red and pink hearts printed all over it.

He let out a chuckle and grabbed the bag, pulling out the tissue paper that was stuffed inside. He found all sorts of chocolate inside, his favorite chocolates.

Happy Valentine’s Day, jerk.

Y/n

Kiyoomi released a deep sigh. He and Y/n had gotten into an argument two nights ago, he couldn’t even remember what it was about. But it was 48 hours of silence from Y/n, 48 hours of emptiness.

The phone line rang repeatedly until it went to her voicemail.

He’s sent her three texts and they were left unread.

“C’mon…” he whispered, pacing around his place. “Pick up, please…”

A click came from the other line and he exhaled, “Y/n, thank goodness, where – “

“Hi, this isn’t Y/n but I’m her coworker!”

Kiyoomi frowned, and growled, “where is Y/n?”

“We are at a company dinner and she’s here… a little intoxicated…”

Kiyoomi could hear mumblings in the background, “… who is it…”

“Where are you guys?” he asked, heading to the shoe rack to put his shoes on.

He heard muffling but couldn’t hear clearly.

“… don’t tell him where I am…”

“… he’s mean and I don’t – I don’t wanna see him right now…”

His heart dropped.

“Hi, hello? Are you still there? Omi? Is this Omi with a white heart emoji next to your name? The Omi that is mean?”

“Yes,” Kiyoomi answered defeatedly, “this is Omi.”

“Look,” whoever this person on the other line whispered, “she keeps saying you are mean and she doesn’t want to see you but I secretly know she does, women to women, she wants to see you… we’re… we’re at the XXXX restaurant.” She paused before whispering loudly, “come get your girl!”

.

Kiyoomi’s strides were only half their usual length, and he inserted a two-second pause between each step. Y/n, with a gloomy mood, followed four feet behind him.

Arriving at the restaurant, he discovered her sitting sadly at the end of the table, all alone. Her colleagues were accompanied by their partners, but Y/n was left by herself. Kiyoomi felt a lump of guilt in his throat; he should have been there with her.

Their most recent argument stemmed from this issue. Y/n had requested him to cut short his training if possible for one night, but he declined, emphasizing the priority of his training.

“I’m simply asking if you could leave an hour earlier, or even thirty minutes early to make it to dinner, if it’s feasible. Can you not even manage that?” Her voice was tinged with angst.

“No, you understand how important my training is. I can’t simply leave early for something like this.”

Something like this…

Now, he felt the full weight of guilt engulfing him.

He halted and glanced back, noticing that Y/n had also come to a stop, gazing into the distance. Following her gaze, he spotted a small shop with claw and capsule machines.

He is reminded of his snarky comment about her liking such stupid things.

Walking up to her, he waited until she looked at him. “Let’s go,” he said jerking his head towards the shop.

Her cheeks were still rosy from the alcohol, her eyes weren’t as lively as they should be. “No,” she grumbles, looking away with a pout. “It’s just stupid stuff,” she attempted to walk around him when he caught her wrist and began tugging her towards the store. “What are you doing?”

He ignores her question and tugs her gently along until they get to the change machine. Stuffing a few bills inside to exchange for tokens. “What would you like?”

She looked at the handful of tokens and then his eyes, and with a weary tone she asked, “why are you doing this?”

“Because you like it and it makes you happy,” his tone is gentle and careful, “and I want to see you happy.” He puts a handful of tokens in her palm. “Go, show me what makes you happy.”

Still pouty, she closed her fingers around the token and walked around him.

Kiyoomi smiled to himself, knowing deep down she was excited.

.

“Are you satisfied with your wins?” He stared at the bag full of plushies and capsule toys.

Y/n nodded, restraining a bright smile on her lips. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Seizing the opportunity, Kiyoomi extended his left hand, asking, “can you hold my hand?” He let out a quite breath when she placed her palm in his. They walked side by side in silence.

“Where are we going?” she asked quietly.

“Let’s go grab some junk food at 7/11 and... my place?” He prayed she would come over but instead, she looked at him as if he had two heads. Chuckling, he knew why she was looking at him weirdly. He was completely against eating any junk food, let alone anything from a convenience store. “A little junk food won’t kill me.”

“It might make you sick though?”

“Shh, don’t jinx me like that.”

.

Sure enough, it did make him feel sick.

All he ate was a cup of instant ramen, and within less than an hour, he started experiencing stomach churning.

“I told you,” Y/n scolded, yet concern was written all over her face. She quickly ushered him to lie down on the couch.

If it meant for Y/n to nurse him and show him affection again, the stomach ache was worth it.

He groaned, “it hurts…”

Digging through her purse, she tried to look for her pill box. “Here, take this medication. It’ll help with the tummy ache.”

He accepted the small pill and popped it into his mouth, taking it down with water. He grabbed her hand, “rub my tummy like you did that one time.”

Y/n hesitated, staring at him suspiciously before reaching to push his shirt up to reveal his abdomen. She ignored the ripples of muscles and put pressure on a certain area of his body.

Kiyoomi groaned, feeling instant relief.

She reached for his hand and placed it with hers, “when you have a tummy ache, always press this pressure point.”

She was about to stand up when he stopped her. Panicking he asked, “wait, where are you going?”

“I’m just going to make you some rice soup.”

He still pouted, watching her walk away to his kitchen.

A few minutes later, she returned with a bowl of steaming contents. “Bland, just the way you like it,” she mentioned, taking a seat on the edge of the couch. “How is your stomach feeling?”

“It’ll feel a lot better if you do it…”

Y/n scoffed and slapped his hand away, “you’re such a baby.”

“Correction, I’m your baby…”

Y/n narrowed her eyes at him, “who are you and what have you done to Kiyoomi?”

Kiyoomi’s lips turned downwards. “Omi…” he corrected quietly. When she doesn’t respond he bites his lips nervously. “I’m sorry.”

Her brow raised, and she looked at him as if she didn’t comprehend what he was saying.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, louder this time. “I have been a jerk and insensitive to you… I have not been compromising and mean to you and I’m sorry,” he bowed his head. “I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore. I’ll do better, I promise. Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked at his last part of his sentence.

“Leave you? Who said I was leaving you?”

“But you didn’t want to see me?”

Y/n frowned, confused. “When did I say that?”

“Earlier on the phone, I heard you telling your coworker that you didn’t want to see me…” very quietly he added, “that hurt my feelings.” He felt childish but he wanted to be honest.

“I didn’t want to see you is very different from I’m leaving you,” Y/n clarified. She sighed, running a hand through her hair before reaching for the bowl of soup. She blew to cool the spoonful of soup before bringing it to his mouth. “I said that I didn’t want to see you because I knew I would give in and forgive you.”

He swallows the soup before asking, “please forgive me?”

“I saw your face so I already forgave you.”

He couldn’t ignore the cheering in his mind. “Do you really mean it? You forgive me for being a jerk?”

“Yes, you jerk.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“But you called yourself that too?” Y/n countered, shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth. “Eat and feel better.”

Kiyoomi smiles, “… kiss me, that would really make me feel better.”

The corner of her lips tugged upward, “you sly jerk…”

He sits up, bringing his face close to hers. “Please, a kiss?”

She pecks his lips.

He pouted, “that’s not a kiss.”

“Yes it is, my lips touched yours.”

He blinked and then frowned, “that was hardly a kiss…”

Y/n raised a brow, challenging him, “then what’s a kiss to you then?”

And he showed her.

He cupped her face, tilting it before pressing his lips against hers. As soon as she gasped, he slipped his tongue in, meeting hers in a tango.

“Omi…” Y/n breathed, pushing him away to catch a breath.

His lips continued to her jaw and down her neck. “Please Y/n…” he begged, tugging at her tucked-in dress shirt. He pulls away and looks at her with dark pupils, waiting for her consent.

She launched at him, knocking him onto his back once more. Her mouth moved hungrily against his as she tugged at his clothes.

“I’m not going anywhere…” he chuckled.

“You will be if you don’t take help take our clothes off…”

Their clothes lay carelessly on the ground seconds later.

Y/n raised herself and straddled his lap. She rocked her hips, gliding her pussy along the length of his cock.

Kiyoomi hissed loudly as his hands gripped her hip tightly, nails digging into her hip bone. “Don’t –“ he choked, “don’t tease me…” He didn’t miss the smirk on her lips.

Having enough of not being inside of her already, Kiyoomi flipped them and shifted her underneath him. His hand found one of hers and threaded their fingers together, clasping tightly. He searched her eyes and she answered by lifting her hips.

“Haa, you’re going to be the death of me,” he sank his cock into her sweet pussy.

He waited a few seconds, savoring the intimate bond. Kiyoomi peers down at her before pressing his forehead against hers and without breaking eye contact, he whispers, “I love you.”

He doesn’t express those three words as frequently as he ought to, but he can observe the way her eyes illuminate when he does. “I love you, Y/n…” he repeated, rocking his hips slowly but deeply. “I know I don’t say it often enough for you but you are my everything… and I never want to be without you again…”

Y/n released a soft whimper and cupped his face, connecting their lips. “I love you too, Omi…”

It was soft lovemaking.

Each rock of his hips was gentle with care, with love.

“Let’s cum together?”

Y/n nodded, tightening her arms around his shoulders and soon their bodies trembled in release.

Kiyoomi pulls Y/n up and they sit down, still connected very intimately. He reached for the bag of chocolate, took a piece, and unwrapped it before placing it into her mouth. Then, he helped himself to a piece as well.

“Thank you for the chocolate,” he murmurs.

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Omi.”

. . .

E/n: Going back to Teo now...

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #sakusa smut #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi smut #sakusa fluff #sakusa angst #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #haikyuu sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi

[aether-starlight]

Silence - Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x Reader

Warnings: Minor injury, grief, brief mention of addiction.

Summary: After avoiding Zayne for some time, a situation arises where you are left with no choice but to see him.

Word Count: 1.5K

Anyone who knew you for long enough was aware of how much you disliked uncomfortable silences.

You always felt the urge to ease tense atmospheres, to build a bridge between opposing sides.

When Caleb had gone through that rebellious stage most teenagers seemed to experience at some point, you had been the mediator between him and Grandma.

Piercings were allowed after hours of soothing and convincing. Hunter's training had been authorized despite the fear of losing someone precious, accepting their freedom to choose.

Now, as Zayne placed careful stitches on your right cheek, you came to realize that you couldn’t be a person and a bridge at the same time.

He was upset, it was clear in the tense set of his jaw, the closed-off gaze he regarded you with, strictly medical in his evaluation of your injuries.

You know I’ll wait for you, you said the last time you saw him.

And yet, you had rescheduled appointments for later dates and avoided places you knew he’d probably be in.

You had been off social media in case he uploaded one of his rare posts, probably a disappointed restaurant review, or a reminder to his patients.

You had waited for anything he had been willing to give. A text, a call. But none had come, and it made you both furious and heartbroken.

No, you couldn’t be a bridge with Zayne.

You couldn’t stand in the middle. To have his affection but not his trust, a door only opened by halfs.

You would have all of him or nothing at all.

Of course, life, being such a poor comedian, had soon decided otherwise.

That Wanderer had gotten you good.

You had lost focus, too worried about watching over the kid hiding under a desk at your back to dodge long, sharp limbs.

Now your face was colored in shades of purple and blue, with the gash running down your cheek taking the price.

The receptionist knew who your head doctor was, and had almost screamed Zayne’s name into the phone when you accidentally scattered drops of blood at the edge of her desk.

You had been mid-apology when he stormed out of his office, quieting you with a single look.

Now, the atmosphere was certainly uncomfortable as he barely uttered a word beyond instructions of turning your head or how to care for the wound for the following weeks.

Silence had been filled with words that in the end felt hollow.

But now he was done, and his hand was still gently cradling your unharmed cheek, tilting your injured side to the light.

The scent of blood and antiseptic dimmed beneath the freshly washed clothes and lavender, coming from the sleeve of his white coat.

He called your name. You winced lightly at the repetition of your earlier mistake.

Zoning out was a matter of life or death in your daily life, and lately, you had been at odds without it.

“When was the last time you slept through the night?”

“You know I haven’t for a while now,” you replied quietly, gaze downcast.

Nightmares plagued you still. It was hard to disconnect from a job that required you to be in a constant state of alert.

His grip slid to your upper arm, a gentle pressure over your half-singed sleeve. You were lucky. So incredibly lucky to be alive.

“Why didn’t you make an appointment? I could have prescribed you a sleep-inducer.”

Your gaze darted to your lap, hands trembling, with uneven nails and scratched knuckles.

What a mess.

“I have an appointment.”

“A month due,” he chastised. “Do not think I am unaware that you rescheduled it.”

Your hands closed into fists as you finally met his eyes.

“You know why I did that.”

This time he was the one to look away.

“Do you wish for me to refer you?” A muscle twitched in his jaw.

You gritted your teeth, something half grieving-half furious stinging behind your eyes.

“I don’t.”

His hand was still on your arm and you could not figure out for the life of you why that was.

He sighed, weaker the longer he stared into your eyes. He had been told more than once that his evol was perfect for him. Cold as ice.

If he was ice, then you were the sunlight that slowly thawed it, changed it into something warmer, more adaptable.

A light that had come so close to being snuffed out.

Before he knew it, his forehead was pressed to yours, eyes closed as he basked in the darkness your conjoined shapes cast, the scent of you beneath all the grime and blood, of jasmine and warmth.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out.

Your lips pressed together, and your face contracted in that unflattering way it does when one is holding back tears.

“Why would you suggest that?” Your voice was small, betrayed. His sudden closeness surprised you, mostly because of the way your body reacted, pliant as an addict at the hint of temptation.

Zayne leaned back, cupping the back of your neck, running his thumb down the line of your jaw.

The low temperature of his hand soothed your heated skin, carefully pressed to the swollen and bruised areas.

“Perhaps it is because I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

You smiled, but it was humorless, wincing when it pulled at your stitches.

“It’s in the job description, unfortunately.”

Contradicting emotions bloomed within his gaze.

Repentance, relief, open and closed. His heart was a room you liked to peer into before the door slammed shut.

Someone knocked, coming in only to halt at your presence. A male doctor stood by the door. He seemed to be around Zayne’s age.

Surprisingly enough, Zayne didn’t pull away, keeping his hand where it was, now pressing his thumb beneath your ear.

The young doctor—Greyson, guided by his name tag—, gaped at the sutures on your cheek. Or perhaps at the rainbow of bruises marring your face.

You winced, an uncomfortable feeling spreading at the pit of your stomach. It was strange to be seen in such a vulnerable state by a complete stranger.

Noticing your discomfort, Zayne shifted to partially hide you from view.

“Yes?” He asked frigidly.

You often forgot how cold he could be. It was a pleasing contrast to how soft he was only for you; and a painful reminder of everything he had been through.

Getting information about Zayne’s past from his own lips was a challenging task. The few times he shared his experience as a combat medic and missions at Mount Eternal had been in an attempt to comfort you.

Doctor Grayson relayed information concerning a patient’s health improvement, placing a file on Zayne’s desk.

“I’ll see to their discharge,” he said, not turning until Grayson had shut the door behind him.

You felt yourself sag in relief, leaning forward until your forehead was pressed to his shoulder, eyes closed.

Lavender and antiseptic surrounded you, held you in the present, and kept your feet rooted to the Earth.

It was only once you felt the growing dampness on his coat, that you realized you were crying, shoulders shaking beneath his touch.

Zayne let out a low sound from the back of his throat, something sorry and tender.

“Why the tears, sweetheart?”

Pulling back, you roughly ran the back of your hands to your cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you admitted in a croaky voice. “I guess I’m just tired.”

Zayne’s gaze was soft as he grabbed your wrists, pulling them down to wipe your tears himself, with slow swipes of his thumbs.

Unable to meet his eyes, your attention drifted to the movement of his fingers, lithe and steady.

One day you had arrived for a check-up and his hands were littered with scars, a shade lighter than his skin.

You had ran the tips of your fingers over them, traced their rise and fall, felt the echo of his evol against your own, something sorrowful and guarded.

He had let out a derisive comment, something about his hands being no longer useful for anything but surgery.

Now, as they cradled your face so carefully, you couldn’t help but strongly disagree.

“Zayne,” you murmured, finally meeting his gaze.

Beneath your damp lashes, your eyes were red. Your hair could have used a comb, and your clothes were half charred. Not to mention the sorry state of your face.

And yet, to Zayne you had never been so dignified. A hunter in your own right, you were the one he bowed to as you bled. The one he thought of when pondering salvation.

You took the pain meant for others and crafted it into something else, something pure and meaningful.

When he answered, he was half ashamed to admit that his voice came out pliant and quiet.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

Your features were open and docile, something he was still too afraid to inspect. It opened the scars of the past, yearned for you to see them, hold them closed between your fingers.

“Can I crash here?”

His eyes darted to the painfully white couch you were meant to lie on if you did, then studied the grime and blood in your hunter uniform.

Lastly, he thought of the pile of clinical notes that awaited him.

He was a weak, weak man.

“Of course. I’ll wake you when I finish.”

The smile you offered him was nothing short of dazzling, even when toned down by your injury.

“Then your place?”

He flicked your chin, oddly playful.

“My place,” he confirmed.

#love and deepspace #zayne x reader #love and deepspace fic #love and deep space zayne

[formulaforza]

💐 hi my wonderful birthday girl !! so i was thinking about a dress coded lewis blurb (because i was born a lewis and ts girl) where they just get drunk together and there’s teases flying and stuff. keep it as brief as u wish <333

—you can take it off

lewis hamilton x merc!reader summ. thank you stephy i love u bad <3 inspo from... ur never gonna believe it... this. hope it's up to your standards my love. 2.7k (kind of got out of hand)

You were half-asleep and half-drunk the night of the Belgium Grand Prix. The air was cool, recycled like all air seems to be in hotels, smelled of too-strong perfume and was filled with the dull noise of elevator jazz. What had begun as a before-we-go-to-bed night cap in the hotel bar with Bono had turned into a seemingly never ending addition of guests. 

Valtteri was first to join—never could pass up the opportunity to give you shit, to offer you job postings at Alfa Romeo that weren’t job postings at all—and with him around, there’s no casual drinking. You don’t try to keep up, not really, because you know you don’t stand a chance, but also because he would never let you. After all these years of being just a few months younger than him, he still calls you kiddo, still promises to call your parents when you’re out after dark, and always sends you a text after a race with some… questionable strategy decisions you’re catching flack for online. 

A brief appearance from Toto and Susie, just long enough for them to know they had no business trying to go drink for drink with Valtteri, and then they’re wishing all three of you a wonderful summer break and retreating to whatever room is considered prestige enough for Motorsport’s it-couple. 

And then there was Lewis, the last to arrive, who never called you kid, who never viewed you as one. He sits adjacent you in the red, high back leather booth and takes up a seat and a half, the toe of his shoe brushing against the side of yours, flashing you apologetic puppy dog eyes every time he bumps against yours. 

It’s somewhere between drink number five and six that Lewis gets his first, insists on a toast to the summer break that officially began… six hours and fifty-three minutes ago. For a long season this and a too-short summer break that, you lot had a mouthful of things to complain about, but a million more to be grateful for. “To not having work for a month,” Lewis proposes, clinking his glass against yours, offering a quick wink and holding it up properly over the table. 

“To no racing-talk for a few weeks,” Bono adds, clinking his glass against Lewis’. 

“To summer-fucking-break,” Valtteri chimes in, laughing at himself before the rest of you get the chance to match it. 

“To summer fucking break,” you repeat because you know there’s no better way to sum it all up. 

Unlike the other two, you slowed down when Lewis joined, wanted to give him time to catch up, to give yourself time to meet him somewhere in the middle. A glass of water and a virgin rum and coke and another water and the night is still young. 

“First summer break as the big boss, kiddo,” Valtteri remarks, and you have to squint to hear him through the alcohol-induced thickening of his accent. 

“That’s right!” Bono laughs. Your cheeks run hot at their mention of your title, of your promotion following James’ departure earlier in the season. Lewis smiles against the rim of his glass, bumps his foot against yours and doesn’t give you apologetic eyes. No, he raises his brows so slightly you think you’re the only one that notices, which is probably exactly the way he intended it to be. “Little miss queen of strategy is making the big money now, got any big travel plans?”

Lewis clears his throat, and your eyes dart over to his almost instinctively. “You’re staying in London, yeah?”

He’s right. Your summer-break plans consist of four weeks of trying to remember what it feels like to do nothing, failing at that task pathetically, and spending the rest of the time meticulously picking apart every call you’ve made all season and imagining the million and one things you could’ve done differently and their billion and two outcomes. 

You pick apart the drink napkin, tear it into tiny little pieces. “Yeah, yeah. Just staying home, catching up with friends and family,” you clarify, try not to sound as pathetic as you feel. It’s hard not to when you’re sitting next to the guy who spends his offseason snowboarding in Antarctica with his celebrity friends and his weeks off traveling to Paris fashion week for front row seats next to supermodels. Anything you say would sound pathetic to someone who makes thirty-five million a year. 

“I love it,” he nods, stares right through you and into your soul so you know he’s being genuine. “That’s awesome.”

You nod, swallow hard, purposely angle your body away from his, to the rest of the group. “What about you guys?”

Lewis laughs, soft, quiet, completely under his breath. The kind of laugh that deserves to be bottled into a jar and kept on a shelf for safe keeping. You know he’s always laughed like that, even before he knew you, but in the last few months it just feels different. Good different, like he’s laughing just for you now instead of everyone else too. 

You know you’re crazy, that he’s just Lewis being Lewis and you’re just single for the first time in a long time and also drunk. Not half drunk anymore, just drunk—even if you do think you’re meeting him in the middle, you’re not. He’s just chasing after. 

“Back home, too,” Bono concludes. “Take a breather, might head up to the country with the family.”

“You’ll take pictures, yeah?” Lewis asks, starts to pick up the pieces of your napkin tear pile and move them in front of him like a kid who isn’t patient enough to share or destructive enough to rip up his own. You watch in your peripheral, the way he fiddles with the wet paper, gets it stuck to his fingertips. You can’t laugh, so you don’t, but you want to. You think he knows you want to. 

Bono scoffs, nods while swallowing a sip of his drink—something dark, something pungent. Not what you would have pegged him for ordering, even after knowing him as long as you have. “So I can compare with the likes of you lot and,” he turns to Lewis, leers around you to emphasize the eyeline, “your million dollar vacations or,” and then the other way, back to Valtteri, “your olympic cycling events?”

Valtteri smiles, swirls his drink—gin, you think. Expensive. “Yes.”

“No chance.”

“I’ll be sure to send you a picture of me having a meltdown when I think about our side pods from the beginning of the year,” you chime in, because it’s not like they all don’t know you well enough to know exactly what you mean by spending time with friends and family at home.

 “What sidepods?” Lewis chuckles.

“Fucking exactly,” you add, mirror his mannerisms without even realizing it, all the way down to readjusting in your seat when you’ve had your laugh. 

“Could be worse,” Bono offers. “Could be last year.”

Lewis nods, holds his drink up in the direction of Valtteri across the table. “We never should have let you leave.”

He smiles, weak, lips  pursed. “I could have told you that.”

The night continues on, all drinks and laughs and yawns, occasional remarks that it’s about time I head up, followed by another round, another joke, another comment about this, that, or the other thing. 

You’ve always liked Lewis when he’s a little tipsy. He lightens up a bit, you can actually watch the stress drip from him like sweat, all the titles and the wins and the losses, they all just fall away when he’s relaxed like this. You’ve always liked him like this. Always. Before he was king of the world and before he was the prodigal son and every moment in between. 

After every joke he makes—or, after every comment he makes that he thinks could be considered a joke—you find yourself laughing, because it’s Lewis and you have a crush on him and of course you do. And, without fail, everytime you laugh, he winks, like you’re in on some inside joke even though he’s making it to the whole table, like there’s some double meaning to all of his words that are meant just for you, just for the two of you to understand. 

Somewhere in it all, it comes back to Lewis, because, well, it always does. “Is your back still bothering you?” Bono asks, and you think you already know the answer. You think you know, because you can’t remember the last time you;d seen him take careful consideration of his posture when he sits. Not even now is he sitting up straight, with his legs perfectly spread a shoulder’s width apart and his feet flat on the floor. Instead, he’s taking up more room than he needs to, all relaxed and comfortable on the leather booth bench. 

He swipes his thumb over the  condensation of his glass, looking up from the action at you, and then to Bono. “No, no. All good there.”

“All good?” Bono prods, because he was on the receiving end of a year and a half of complaints from Lewis.

Lewis nods, clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “No Paracetamol in a month.”

Across the table, Valterri chimes in. “None?” 

“None for my back,” Lewis says, and the whole table laughs. You just watch him, though, because who laughs better than he does? You could wax poetic about it without a second thought, the way that his lips upturn and his cheeks round and his eyes crinkle and go soft in a way that makes you feel like you’re the funniest person in the world even when you’re not making a joke. The way that his smile is brighter than anyone’s you’ve ever seen, and the way that if you look at it for too long, you think about how it would feel to run your finger along the gap in his teeth. 

“That’s what I thought,” Valtteri mutters off the end of his laugh. “You're getting old.”

“Not too old to make half a million.”

The entire table’s heads fly to him. You gasp, an embarrassingly wide smile on your face. “You didn’t!” You almost yell, smacking his upper arm with a weak hand. 

He mocks your gasp, makes it somehow more dramatic and over the top and laughs sweetly, shrugging your hand off his arm and letting his hand fall to your leg, bumping your foot with his again. “I didn’t.” The table chuckles, you pout, and then you realize that his hand is on your thigh, that it’s staying there quite comfortably, and that you mind it less than he does. 

“Don’t be a tease,” you sigh, take a swig of your drink. Your knees are suddenly weak, like you know you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you wanted to. It’s like he can sense your change but can’t quite read it, because then he’s moving his hand back to his own lap, interlocking it with the other and resting it there.

 He nods, suddenly shy, suddenly guilty. “It’s as good as done.”

Valtteri laughs. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” You hear what he says, but you’re not listening, not really. Lewis stares into you like he wants to look anywhere else—apologetic eyes and a fear he’s taken a misstep. He hasn’t, you want to tell him. You haven’t, put your hand back, please. Silently, you try to convey what shouldn’t dare be spoken. “I’ll believe it when pen is on paper.”

He snaps his eyes away from you, back to Valtteri. You don’t follow suit, stay fixed on him, on trying— hard—to get your message across. “I’m telling you, they’re announcing it after the summer break.”

“Whatever you say, Mate.”

Bono nods around a mouthful of alcohol, sets his half-empty glass down with an incidental thud. “Who’s to say we still want your geriatric ass?”

Lewis raised his interlocked hands from his lap, to the tabletop, resting his elbows on the wood grain and rattling the empty glasses when he does it. He leans in towards the center of the table, even though the only person separating him and Bono is you. “Would you tell Schumacher ‘no?’”

“What was that?” You ask, your words a convenient excuse to lean in closer, to settle into a spot that much closer to him without raising any brows. To brace for the shift, you leave your hand on his thigh with less subtly than your original movement, but it’s okay. It’s okay—only Lewis knows where your hands are, and you don’t want it to be subtle, don’t want anything to be lost in translation. “I can’t hear you over your ego,” you smile, and your fingers dance up his leg just a few, careful inches. 

He drops back into his seat, drops his hands back into his lap. Under the table, he grabs yours and laughs, but it’s stifled, stunted, not quite relaxed. “Very funny,” he humors, and moves your hand back. His stays too, though, and he crosses one leg over the other under the table. His thumb moves over the fabric of your slacks in shudder-worthy circles. 

“Someone’s gotta check you,” you smile, nod in the direction of your tablemates without ever looking away from him. “These two won’t.”

Bono scoffs.“Are you kidding?”

Your smile grows. “How do you want me to answer that, Peter?”

“Damn,” Lewis laughs so hard he coughs. “She Peter-ed you. That’s cold.”

“You’re the one comparing yourself to Michael fucking Schumacher,” Bono scolds. 

“I didn’t say that, but,”

“But!” You interject. 

“But,” Lewis laughs, threatens to continue even though all at the table know he won’t, knows that no matter how often the media and the girlfriends and the friends and the family tell him he should put himself up there with the greatest, he’ll never quite see himself in the same light. “But it’s about time I head up, I think.”

“Ah, see,” Valtteri chuckles. “Old man Hamilton can’t hang.”

“No, he can not,” Lewis remarks, pulling his phone and his hotel keycard from his pocket, setting the latter on the table and if you were feeling a little crazier than you are, you’d swear he nudges it ever so slightly out of his bubble and into yours. He types away rapidly at his phone, and you try to pay attention to the jokes Bono and Valtteri throw around, the pokes at Lewis they make, but suddenly you’re feeling like it’s a good time to head up, too. You try to shake the crazy, to leave it with your backwash in the final sip of your drink, and you do. You do.

You do, but then he’s slipping his phone back into his pocket. He’s leaving his glass just beyond his keycard and telling you to feel free to finish it. He’s saying his goodbyes while he moves out of the booth and his hotel room key is still sat on the table next to you. It stares at you—the hard, thin plastic. Stares at you in its white paper pocket with the intricate printing of the hotel label and dares you to look at him when he walks away. 

You do, begrudgingly, subtly, and his eyes are already on yours. They’re expressionless, and yet, say so fucking much. You hold the remainder of his drink in his direction before downing it in a single gulp and then he winks at you. He looks at his keycard on the table, and then to you, and then he winks, and you’re sure you’re absolutely crazy. 

You swallow. 

“Oh, fuck,” Bono says, reaches over you to grab the keycard from the table. It’s like you were zoned out and he snapped in front of your face, the way it pulls you from Lewis to the table. “He forgot his key.”

“Oh,” you squeak, and then louder, “I can take it to him.”

“No, no, It’s okay,” Bono says, and he makes you stand up to get out of the booth. “I should be heading up anyway.”

“Really,” you half-insist, trying to convince him you can handle it without letting him in on why you’re convincing him. “It’s no problem.”

Bono pulls out his wallet, flips through the pockets of it and fiddles with his bills. “Our rooms are right by each other,” he insists, tosses his share onto the table. “I got it.”

“Okay,” you nod, accept your defeat. “Yeah, I should be heading up, too, I guess.”

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fluff #f1 fluff #lh44 #lh #mercedes #mercedes amg f1 #cameos from #toto wolff #susie wolff #peter bonnington #valtteri bottas

[starsainzjr]

Lights, Camera, Action

Pairing: Lando Norris x director!reader Faceclaim: Gemma Chan

✷✷✷✷✷

yourusername posted a story

f1wags

Liked by 419,303 others

f1wags Meet YN YLN! YN is a successful Hollywood director and producer with movies like Barbie (producer), Boston Strangler (director), and Little Women (director) under her belt. Earlier this afternoon in a Tweet, a fan working as a makeup artist on an undisclosed movie set claimed to see McLaren driver Lando Norris on set with a bouquet of sunflowers.

An hour later YN posted a a picture of a bouquet of sunflowers to her Instagram story with the caption "Pleasant surprise at lunch 🥰" (pictured above). Could it just be a coincidence? Sure. But we may soon have a new WAG in the paddock!

View all 20,389 comments

marissa.lancaster4 Hi! I'm the fan that posted that Tweet. Because of the NDAs that I have signed as a part of my employment I cannot say what movie I am working on nor who the director is. But I can confirm after speaking with several of my coworkers that it was Lando I saw on set earlier today.

f1wags Please DM me if you have any more information that you can share!

mickieslaren Am I the only one that gets a bit weirded out by how we treat celebrities' love lives like this? Maybe Lando was visiting a friend or something. Either way it's none of our business what he was doing on set

landoslove It is a bit odd but, then again, both Lando and YN live in the public eye. There are always going to be little things like this that get scrutinized mickieslaren I just wish they could have a bit of privacy is all landoslove That makes sense. But this is out of our control

nowinsnorris YN is literally so stunning. Lando has some serious game if this is true

landoslove He's trying so hard to beat the norizz allegations

yourusername Hollywood

Liked by florencepugh, americaferrara, simuliu and 509,201 others

yourusername Halfway through filming! I have a never ending supply of sunsets and sunflowers 🌅🌻

View all 99,394 comments

florencepugh Come to my hotel room I have a mini champagne bottle I can't get rid of by myself

yourusername I'm omw simuliu Am I invited? florencepugh Sure we need someone to supervise I suppose

americaferrara Go do incredible things! Cannot wait to get my eyes on this once its done

yourusername There's a bucket of popcorn with your name on it!

landoslove Sunflowers she says? 👀

nowinsnorris She's not as slick as she thinks she is

haveyougotpubesyet No bc I'm confident Lando would follow YN around like a lost puppy in the paddock

landoslove I cannot wait for this to get proven real mickieslaren Or we could just leave them alone and let them live their lives haveyougotpubesyet We're not harming them, just having meaningless fun trying to connect invisible dots landoslove Yeah. We're not, like, cyber bullying them or anything mickieslaren I'm just saying it probably can't feel great to have random people poking around in your love life

landonorris Santa Monica, California

Liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 782,293 others

landonorris Ready to rock 🤘🏎

View all 102,394 comments

oscarpiastri We really need a McLaren emoji

landonorris 🍑? oscarpiastri I'm taking your phone away landonorris 😨

carlossainz55 Welcome back to the real world

landonorris I don't like it I wanna go back charles_leclerc We have the easiest lives ever get it together. Both of you landonorris Yes, father. Carlos come get your teammate carlossainz55 Nah, this could get fun

landoslove SANTA MONICA

landoslove YN just posted from Santa Monica

nowinsnorris This is me not getting my hopes up buuuuut YN is a director and she lives in California... landoslove Lalalalala I can't hear anything lalalalala

yourusername The Outback

Liked by simuliu, florencepugh, americaferrara and 600,338 others

yourusername Out of the studio for the back half! So unbelievably happy to be back in Australia 🦘🌏

View all 102,383 comments

simuliu Yeah yeah pretty pictures can you come kill the spider in my room now please?

simuliu YN I'm serious, I've been texting you for 30 minutes I know you're seeing these simuliu YN IM NO LONGER ASKING yourusername @/florencepugh do you hear anything? florencepugh Nope. All quiet. Not a peep simuliu Very funny. When I die who are you going to get to finish your movie? yourusername I am on my way to humanely get the scary spider out of your room and put it outside simuliu Hurry up it's staring at me florencepugh With how many eyes?

nowinsnorris I'm already in love with her. I might love her more than I love Lando

landoslove YN YLN - Daniel Ricciardo team up 👀

ynsaction I've never been one to gatekeep but if these F1 delulus keep coming near my wife I will actually lose my mind

yn.florence No literally! She is a feminist icon who has said multiple times in interviews that she's not looking for a partner and focusing on directing and producing. Pls stop shoving her into a WAG box ynsaction I'll always welcome more YN fans but every other word in these comments is about Lando Norris. I'm about to scream landoslove Hi, sorry isn't feminism about women being able to do whatever they want? YN is allowed to change her mind if she met the right person yn.florence If you'd been paying attention you'd know the last interview she made her wishes clear in was a week ago which, according to the calendar, is after people started trying to tie her to Nowins or whatever his name is

landonorris Australia

Liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 799,397 others

landonorris Good to be back! We'll continue to work and push and get stronger as the season goes on. Thanks for having me, Australia! 🦘

View all 298,300 comments

oscarpiastri The garage used to be so quiet

landonorris You missed me, admit it

carlossainz55 Bit rusty there, mate

landonorris Says the man who got his third consecutive P4 finish. You ever gonna bump up to the podium? carlossainz55 At least I finished in the points charles_leclerc Guys I cannot keep doing this please

landoslove My boy is back and better than ever

haveyougotpubesyet He looked so happy to be back!

nowinsnorris I'm gonna have to change my username this year, aren't I?

landoslove YES YOU ARE norizz481 Here's hoping I get to change mine too landoslove YOU'RE BOTH GOING TO HAVE TO CHANGE USERNAMES I'M SPEAKING IT INTO THE UNIVERSE

yourusername Perth, Australia

Liked by florencepugh, simuliu, americaferrara and 600,495 others

yourusername A week and a half left of filming and I cannot wait to celebrate all we've accomplished with these two! Behind the scenes dump coming soon 😉

View all 110,387 comments

americaferrara Congrats all of you! So so unbelievably proud

yourusername Wish you could've been along with us on this ride! See you soon my love

florencepugh My favorite project in a long time! Let's finish this out strong!

simuliu No not that picture 😭

yourusername Listen, it's too good not to share with the world simuliu I'm a superhero, I don't need this kind of harassment yourusername Cope

ynsaction This one is going to be so so good I'm physically vibrating I need it

yn.florence Mother! She's going to win yet another Oscar for this one, I can feel it

ynsaction Our girl don't need no child race car driver

nowinsnorris I'm becoming such a huge fan of YN. She and Lando would be perfect for each other

landoslove Shhhhh you'll scare the fragile film girlies ynsaction God, the f1 delulus are back. I was hoping we got rid of them yn.florence I don't think we're that lucky

f1wags Perth, Australia

Liked by 421,871 others

f1wags Picture taken of Lando this morning in Perth, Australia coming out of a florist shop. Not pictured is a bouquet of sunflowers. This is the second time this month that Lando has been spotted with a bouquet of sunflowers.

Lando has been linked to director YN YLN who is wrapping up her new film in Perth. Only time will tell if YN posts some sunflowers in the coming days 👀

View all 19,878 comments

haveyougotpubesyet He is the definition of boyfriend material I swear to god

landoslove Getting closer and closer to beating the norizz allegations

landoslove IS HE BRINGING HER SWEETS TOO??? This boy is going to be the death of me

nowinsnorris What do I need to do to get myself a Lando

mickieslaren Just reminding everyone that Lando does in fact have sisters who were in attendance at the race this weekend and may also enjoy getting sunflowers from their brother

landoslove Jesus, take your negativity away from us who are trying to have fun mickieslaren Yeah it's fun for you now but what about Lando who is trying to go about his day without having some delusional fangirl losing their mind over him buying sunflowers? If you were really a fan of his you would let him live his life landoslove He's a celebrity! His fans are just trying to connect to him mickieslaren When I hear that Lando has gotten a restraining order against a fan I will not be surprised when you suddenly get very quiet

yourusername posted a story

yourusername Hollywood

Liked by americaferrara, florencepugh, landonorris and 671,209 others

yourusername This is where the fun begins 🎞 Three months of editing coming up

View all 105,448 comments

florencepugh Im omw with more coffee

yourusername I love you

americaferrara Ahh keep the Excedrin close by

yourusername There's a whole bottle in the corner

simuliu I hope you're making me look good

yourusername Yes, I'm including the scene where the spider crawled up your arm and you screamed like a baby simuliu You're definitely my favorite director, I love working with you yourusername You are also definitely the star of this movie and have more screen time than Flo simuliu Hey, I will always be willing to have less screen time than Flo

ynsaction YES I have been missing YN editing content so bad recently

ynsaction She is such a mood when she's editing she gets so unhinged

landoslove Unhinged YN editing plus Lando being generally unhinged 👀 ynsaction Jesus give it a rest already

yn.florence I, for one, am chasing to focus on incoming unhinged YN posts

nowinsnorris LANDO'S IN THE LIKES EVERYONE

landonorris China

Liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, yourusername and 801,387 others

landonorris So close to a podium finish! We'll make adjustments as needed and push on. See you in Miami!

View all 208,218 comments

oscarpiastri So my days of quiet garage are definitely over?

landonorris You're stuck with me forever, mate carlossainz55 Good luck, Oscar landonorris WOW

landonorris @/charles_leclerc your teammate is being mean to me

charles_leclerc You think I have control over him?

ynsaction Not YN in the likes I had such high hopes

landoslove Genuine question; why are you against her finding someone she likes to be with? ynsaction I'm not against her finding someone she likes to be with, I'm against all Lando's fans trying to shove her into a WAG box when she's spoken so much about not wanting a partner at the moment. Especially when it was as soon as a month ago landoslove Okay, that's valid. But we're not trying to shove her into a box. This is just harmless shipping. I'm sure you do it with fictional characters you like ynsaction YN is an idol to me. I'm protective over her, I'm sorry if I've been bitchy landoslove I've been bitchy too, I apologize as well

mickieslaren I still don't like pushing into celebrity love lives

yourusername Miami, Florida

Liked by florencepugh, simuliu, landonorris and 622,118 others

yourusername First time out of the studio since editing started. Thank you @/f1 for hosting me!

View all 200,377 comments

f1 Anything for our favorite director!

florencepugh Did you see The Guy???? 👀

yourusername It's not too late to make the movie about Simu simuliu YES... I mean, yeah did you see The Guy???? 👀 yourusername You're both blacklisted from my film sets

mclaren Give us a heads up next time you come! We'll set you up in the garage!

yourusername Oh that would be incredible! Thank you so so much!

ynsaction She always looks so adorable I am in love with her

yn.florence Mother is Mothering

ynsaction all hail

haveyougotpubesyet McLaren sipping after her too now

ynsaction Who wouldn't simp after her tbh

landoslove Just soft launch already

landoslove Florence and Simu chirping her about seeing The Guy I'm DYING

nowinsnorris The Guy is 100% Lando. It has to be at this point

lando.jpg

Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourusername and 379,177 others

lando.jpg Hangin'

Comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc You caught me so off guard

carlossainz55 Best picture in the middle tbh

yourusername posted a story

yourusername Monaco

Liked by landonorris, florencepugh, simuliu, and 801,836 others

yourusername Beautiful day in Monaco made even more beautiful by this wonderful boy! Congratulations, @/landonorris I'm so proud of you!

Comments on this post have been limited

florencepugh THE GUY. SHE PULLED THE GUY.

simuliu YESSSS NO MORE LATE NIGHTS DRUNK TALKING ABOUT HIM

yourusername Way to call me out, guys, thanks for that. You do remember I'm technically your boss right? florencepugh Movie wrapped, love. You can't tell us what to do anymore simuliu At least until we sign on for another one of your projects

landonorris Awww you drunk talked about me 🥰

yourusername I'll chase you

landonorris Monaco

Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 781,003 others

landonorris I have the best date for the party @/yourusername

Comments on this post have been limited

yourusername Best weekend ever

landonorris Only because you were here

oscarpiastri Here's hoping the garage will be quiet again

landonorris No shot but nice try yourusername I'll do my best to keep him quiet for you oscarpiastri YN is my new favorite

lando.jpg

Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 241,966 others

lando.jpg You have a movie coming out tomorrow. I am so incredibly proud of you @/yourusername. Everything we've been through together, I cannot believe what a kind, strong, beautiful woman you are. I love you, I can't wait to see what you're going to do next

Comments on this post have been limited

yourusername I love you so so much, darling. Thank you for being there through everything

lando.jpg My dream woman

florencepugh Yes!!!! Drinks on Simu at the afterparty!

simuliu Drinks on me!!!

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All photos from Pinterest, Instagram, or Google Images

#lando norris #lando norris social media au #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 x you

[janitorhutcherson]

bedtime with mike and abby ( mike schmidt x reader)

hi guys! this is my first ever lil fic/imagine/blurb here!! if y'all like this, I'll keep it up. I'm also new to tumblr, so please please be patient with me. in the future i'd love to do requests.

also if someone wants to help me with formatting/be friends, just shoot me a msg :p

this is just a quick lil imagine/blurb. I've seen so many smutty fics and i wanted to spice it up w/ some fluff. just sleepy time on mike's night off! on w the fic :p

*edit* this isn’t revised!! i threw something together last min and posted cause i felt like writing lol. don’t mind the typos

word count: 1,633

warnings: none! just fluff, angst if u squint!!

summary: nighttime with mike and abby on his day off!

Most of the time, you, your boyfriend Mike, and his little sister Abby were on entirely different schedules. Mike worked nights at a shitty gas station job for the time being after his job at Freddy's was... well.. no more for obvious reasons. Even though he swore off the night shift, this was necessary until he could find something better. Jobs were sparse at the moment, and Mike's history didn't exactly make him a star candidate.

A typical night would consist of you making the three of you dinner, slowly forcing Abby to venture out when it came to her taste buds. Recently, she'd taken a liking to tacos. You and Mike would make a joint effort to get her ready for bed earlier together, as Mike was more particular about being there for her since the incident. She'd get a bath, get into her jammies, and the two of you would tuck her in with a bedtime story. You'd both kiss her little forehead goodnight, then kiss your boyfriend on his lips before sending him off.

Most nights, you tossed and turned in your sleep, unable to rest properly without Mike by your side. A painfully dull feeling would rest in your stomach, the lack of his warmth beside you agonizing. You'd spend all night waiting for 6am to roll around as you felt the bed dip on his side, barely stirring you from your sleep. You'd have thirty minutes until your alarm went off, thirty minutes to wrap yourself up into him before you once again went on your separate ways... living your separate lives until you could have your few hours of union later on.

But tonight, you were lucky. Mike had gotten the next few days off. His job was being extra kind as they actually recognized the hard work Mike put in, something he wasn't used to. They'd told him someone would take over for a bit, to enjoy himself, to rest. It may have been a low-paying, trashy, borderline dangerous job, but his boss was nice, and the customers were certainly safer to deal with than those at the pizzeria.

You called out sick from work, not wanting to miss a single second with your little trio. You'd both even made the decision to pull Abby out of school for the day, spending it building forts, watching movies, and eating ice cream. The three of you even went out rollerskating, Mike awkwardly tumbling every few seconds on the rink as Abby would bust out laughing at him. The three of you were now sat around on the couch, Mike smooshed into the far side of the armrest as your entire body lay on his, Abby's head resting in your lap as she sleepily blinked her eyes. She'd already had her bath, brushed her teeth, and all three of you were in your pajamas.

"So, everyone have a good day?" Mike asked, turning his head to the two of you with a small but sleepy smile.

"Mhm," Abby hummed quietly, slowly nodding her head against your lap. It was clear that she was moments from passing out, and once Abby was out, she was impossible to get up without a fight.

"Okay, I think it's time for bed," you giggled, slowly lifting your own head up from Mike's shoulder. Mike nodded in agreement, a laugh of his own escaping his lips.

You both slowly pulled Abby up, getting her up on her feet, her half asleep state making her delirious as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, staring back at the two of you in confusion.

"C'mon, Abs, it's time for bed," Mike muttered, standing up. He grabbed your hand, pulling you up with him. You stood as well, following Mike as he led Abby to her room. She crawled up into her bed, her little body tucking under her blankets as the two of you sat on both sides of her.

"Want a bedtime story?" Mike asked, raising his eyebrows as he leaned down to press a small kiss to Abby's forehead. Abby's lips parted to answer, but before she could, her eyes were closed and she was out. A sincere and quiet chuckle escaped underneath Mike's breath, his eyes full of love for his sister as her stared down at her. You couldn't help but stare, the edges of your mouth turning up into a sleepy smile of your own. He was so majestic, his messy but soft brown curls were laying in every which way on his head. Even though he was much more rested than usual, his eyes were still somewhat sunken in, but to you, that just made him more attractive. His scruff was messy, unshaven, but it managed to highlight his jawline. The sparkle that remained in his eyes, even through it all, after everything that he'd been through, warmed you to your core, your love for him overwhelming.

"What?" Mike asked quietly with a smile still plastered on his lips, his eyes now locked on yours. A blush crossed your cheeks as you realize you’d been caught, your eyebrows raising.

“Nothin’,” you hummed, shaking your head. “Just admiring you.” Your hand reached out to his as the two of you went to your own bedroom, the only light now lighting up your house being the moonlight and street lamps peeking through the blinds. You both crawled into bed, pulling the blankets over your bodies.

There was nothing but silence other than the sound of the fan in your room, the hum almost hypnotic as you wrapped yourself up in his arms. Your head rest against his chest as he instantly tugged you closer, his back flat on the bed as his hand cradled your side. His thumb drew small figure eights on your shoulder. Your body felt fuzzy, a type of relaxation you hadn’t felt at night in a while. Mike made you feel safe. On nights where you two were able to just snuggle up, nothing could buzz in your mind. Anxious thoughts disappeared, even the ones that seemed to be a constant in the back of your brain. There was nothing but a warmness in your mind and a beam of love in your heart.

“Hey, baby?” You heard Mike ask softly, his voice cracking from his sleepiness. You were broken from your train of thought by this, looking up at the man with the sleepy eyes. “Hm?” You hummed in response, your eyes fluttering, but he couldn’t see due to the lack of light. Mike sat up, pulling you up with him as he grabbed your hands, both of your faces now lit up by the light peeking through the cracks in your curtain.

“I- I know we don’t get nights like these much, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m never home, I’m sorry you have to do so much for you and Abby alone. I’m sorry I dragged you into that mess with Freddy’s, got you involved in so much of this,” he said, his voice seeping with sadness and regret. His eyes held an even softer emotion than they did earlier, one that felt like a knife to your chest. “Most importantly, I’m sorry I can’t be the boyfriend I should be. I mean, we should be spending our nights out at clubs, going out on special dates and vacations, and I hate that I’m unable to give you that,” he sniffled, a tear now falling down his eye.

You leaned forward, a frown on your lips as your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes locked on his as you placed your hand on his cheek, wiping away the tear with your thumb as you shook your head. Mike’s own two much larger hands were now placed on both of your cheeks as he continued. “But listen, Y/N, I love you, more than I have ever loved anyone, okay? I- I’m not good at this shit, I know I’m not. I’m clumsy and I’m bad at emotions. I don’t always know what I want or what I need, but I know I don’t only want you, but I need you. You came into my life and you brightened it where it was the darkest. You brought happiness back, you made me understand what joy was again, what it was like to feel.. complete. You saved me, but..” he trailed off again, full on tears falling down his cheeks now. “Most importantly, you saved Abby, made her feel whole again too, gave her somethin’ like a mother, something I couldn’t give her,” he said, his voice breaking at the end. Before he could say another word, you wrapped around arms around him, pulling him into a massive bear hug. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, your mind not even focused on the salty tears and the snotty nose that was leaned up against your shoulder. Your hands rubbing his back as you kissed the top of his head.

“Oh, baby..” you whispered softly, squeezing him like if you let go he’d disappear. “You know I love you so much too…” you finished, pulling his face up by his chin, pressing a soft, gentle but electric kiss to his lips. The two of you then settled back into bed, curling up in each other’s arms as he played with your hair, occasionally leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, small sniffles still leaving his nose from the emotional moment. He was right, it was rare you got moments like these together, but when you did, you cherished them. It took about thirty minutes of sweet nothings and cuddles before the two of you drifted off, in your own little dream worlds filled with many nights like these.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #michael schmidt #michael schmidt x reader

[ghostlychief]

mirror, mirror

ghost x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW; smut; MINORS DNI (i am watching u); reverse cowgirl

a/n: part four of my positions series. i promise the next thing i post will be fluff but if you're here, ENJOY

*going to post this then run and hide*

---

you could probably count on your fingers the number of times you were this fucked out. although, you were quickly running out of fingers.

you have your boyfriend to thank for that.

currently, you find yourself straddled on Ghost’s large thighs on the corner of the bed. your back is to him, but you can still see him clear as day thanks to the mirror propped up on your wall.

well, clear in a relative way; the bottom half of his face was covered in one of his signature skull balaclavas. a request made by you, of course.

ghost usually was against wearing those black masks in the bedroom, but you asked him so nicely earlier, with your eyes wide and lashes batting annoyingly. How could he say no to you?

so here you are a couple hours later, and you both are still going.

it must be the mask, you think (the mirror might be an added bonus as well).

seeing Ghost’s rock hard abs flex every time you slide down on him definitely did things to you. but you really did try your best to keep yourself composed, which didn’t sit well with Ghost.

he liked to see you squirm, and enjoyed every little bit of you losing composure because of him. so he tried his best to completely ruin you. and he was doing a pretty good job so far, seeing that this was your fourth round at it.

your legs feel like jelly but you soldier on, continuing to raise and lower yourself on Ghost’s thick cock, the imagine that reflects back to you spurring you on even more.

“fuck.” Ghost’s voice is deep, and there’s a trace of a whine as he drags out the word. he could be helping you, but he’s decided to let you take the reins. It only makes sense with what position you’re in.

“that's it baby, just like that.”

he brings one of his hands to snake around you, his hand now splayed across your tummy. he presses down gently, and the added pressure on your lower stomach has you letting out a moan.

you bring your hand up to cover his, although it really doesn’t cover much, since his hands are so much larger than yours. you slightly grasp his hand as you continue to move, but you need to go back to balancing yourself, so it falls down to his thigh where it previously was, your fingernails leaving faint crescent indents in his skin.

your room is in a state of disarray, your sheets are sloppily thrown around your bed, and your comforter rests at the bottom, on the floor. typically, you would care about the state of your room, but you can't find it in you to worry about that right now.

his hand travels down further until two of his fingers toy with your center. they quickly become slick, which allows him to touch you just right.

your legs tremble as he coaxes you over the edge, and you fall back against his chest. his fingers are still moving in circles around your sensitive bud, but before you can protest at the over sensitivity, you feel him come inside you.

you look back at your reflections in the mirror and see the mess between your legs, now exacerbated by Ghost's come that's seeping out of you.

he brings his other hand to lightly grasp your waist, steadying you, even though you're still leaning back on him.

he places a kiss on your shoulder through his mask, and before you know it, he lifts you off of him and swiftly places you down on your back, his face in between your legs.

you know what's coming next; it's his favorite way to clean you up, after all.

---

#i really don't know what came out of me to write this #who am i #posting this and then running away to hide #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #cod ghost smut #ghost smut #mw2 ghost smut #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #cod ghost imagine #mw2 ghost imagine #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost fanfic #cod ghost fanfic #mw2 ghost fanfic #simon ghost riley drabble #simon riley drabble #ghost drabble #cod ghost drabble #mw2 ghost drabble

[girlgenius1111]

Just Admit It

part 2 of do you need me!!

does it count as proofreading if I scrolled through it really fast before posting?

Falling asleep in Alexia's arms seemed to be a cure all- you'd woken up a few hours later and the pain in your head had dulled significantly. Alexia was just so relieved that you were feeling better, and didn't want to ruin your good mood by bringing up how you'd acted earlier. So, even though your reluctance to allow her to take care of you worried her deeply, she let it go, vowing to keep a close eye on you.

You wished that that had been the end of it. It should have been; your migraines were normally really rare. You'd never had more than one in the span of a few months, normally going a while in between episodes. Which was why you just dealt with them; they weren't a common enough occurrence for you to go to a doctor or something.

You must have been extra stressed, though, which you knew was the cause of your migraines. Between a hectic club schedule, and an insane international one, you were exhausted. Seeing how stressed Alexia was only made you feel worse, until you were a walking ball of anxiety going into the holiday break.

You and Alexia had just played last game of the year, a champions league group stage game, extremely ready to relax. It seems your relaxation time came a little late, though, because you felt the beginnings of a migraine starting to pulse in your brain on the drive home.

You were determined to keep this one to yourself. What had happened a couple weeks ago, letting Alexia see you in that state, could not happen again. Even if she told you she didn't mind. Even if she'd specifically asked you to tell her the next time you didn't feel well. You just couldn't. You kept quiet all the way home, heading inside and immediately curling up on the couch while Alexia sat next to you.

Alexia wasn't stupid, and she knew you very well. She knew you weren't feeling well, could tell from your silence in the car; normally you'd be all hyper after a game, changing the song every other minute and talking nonstop about whatever came to your mind. She loved hyper-post game y/n, who always managed to bring a smile to her face, no matter what mood she was in. Your lack of energy in the car was concerning, as was your behavior upon arriving home. Normally, the two of you picking dinner consisted of you going back and forth until one of you was so hungry that you just agreed to something you didn't want. Alexia pulled out her phone, prepared to start listing ideas, expecting this to take a while.

"What about sushi?" She suggested, half joking because you really didn't like sushi, and would normally complain about having to pick something random off the menu.

"Sure." You responded quietly, and Alexia's head raised to look at you, thinking she must have heard wrong.

"Okay... do you want fried rice?" she asked, eyes studying you closely.

"I'm actually not that hungry, I'll probably just make a sandwich or something" you replied, and Alexia's eyebrows rose even farther up on her face. Ordering food out was... your favorite thing. Choosing to eat something from home instead of getting something from a restaurant was unheard of. She had half a mind to check you for a fever, but she was already suspicious that your head was hurting.

She took in your appearance, really looking at you. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed, as if allowing your eyes to be open all the way was too much. You unconsciously rubbed your left temple with your finger, and your jaw was completely clenched. It was clear that you were in pain. Alexia set her phone down, scooting a little closer to you.

"Are you feeling alright?" She asked, bracing herself for your response. Sure enough, your whole body tensed, and she watched your face as all traces of discomfort were wiped away.

"I'm fine, just tired." You assured her, not really aware of how aware she was of how you were feeling. Alexia decided to push, just a little.

"If you're sure. You can tell me if you're not feeling well, cariño. I won't be mad." Her voice was soft, as if she was talking to a cornered animal, and you were suddenly fighting the inexplicable urge to cry. You want to tell her, you really did, but you couldn't. You didn't want to be too much, and you'd already been far too weak in front of her before. You forced yourself to meet her eyes, willing yourself to not feel anything as you took the love and worry she held on her face.

"I'm fine, amor, seriously." You responded, fighting to keep your voice steady. You were careful not to promise anything, not wanting to break it. You were fine. Your head hurt, and the lights made your eyes ache, and the room was starting to spin lightly whenever you moved your head, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. You gave Alexia a half smile, and she sighed, smiling back. You could tell she didn't really believe you.

If you were going to be stubborn, you could be stubborn. Alexia was dead set on you coming to her this time, on forcing you to realize that you needed her, and that was okay.

The rest of the evening passed slowly. Alexia put on some random reality show that she insisted she only watched for you, even though she'd let out comments like, "well maybe if you weren't such a douche, derek, everyone wouldn't hate you" completely unprompted. You promised her you'd eat after the episode ended, her food arriving in the middle. Instead, the credits played, and you avoided her eyes as you spoke.

Standing up only slightly unsteadily, you said, "I think I'm gonna go to bed Ale, I'm really tired." The pain in your head had only intensified and you were desperate to escape to your bedroom where you could hide your tears in the pillow. Alexia looked up at you with surprise and concern.

"You haven't eaten anything, y/n, and it's only 8:00."

"I know, I'm really not hungry though. Goodnight baby, I love you." You didn't even kiss her goodnight as you headed to bed, knowing that if you tried to bend over to do so, you'd probably end up face down in her lap. She looked after you, bewildered. She really couldn't understand why you were so reluctant to tell her that you weren't feeling well.

You changed into pajamas and curled up under the covers, surprisingly finding yourself rather sleepy. Your head hurt, a lot, but somehow you felt yourself drifting off.

Alexia tried to stay up till a normal time, but she couldn't resist climbing into bed with you. At least in your sleep, you couldn't push her away from you. So, at 9, she headed into the bedroom, finding you asleep, head buried in her pillow instead of your own. She smiled, taking in the sight of you completely dressed in clothes from her side of the dresser. She was tempted to pull clothes from your side of the dresser as revenge, but instead settled on a pair of her own shorts, and the stupid fuzzy sweatshirt you loved. She didn't like wearing it, and she hated sleeping in it, but the look on your face when she put it on last time, as if you'd maybe begun to understand a fraction of the love that Alexia had for you, was enough to get it on her tonight.

She slid into bed next to you, fitting herself into the small space you'd left her when you'd taken over her pillow. You had the hood of one of her hoodies pulled up, and under it your face was flushed, you looked warm, so she carefully pulled the hood down, allowing fresh air to hit your face and hopefully cool you down. You grumbled slightly, shifting over until you were practically laying on top of your girlfriend. Alexia held in a laugh, and snuggled into you. She felt sleep tugging at her, and she hoped when you both woke up in the morning, you'd feel better.

-----

You didn't. You woke up only a few hours after Alexia had come to bed, in blinding pain. Your head had never hurt this bad before, no migraine had every felt this intense. You knew you should do something, wake Alexia up probably, but you really couldn't move. You were laid on top of Alexia, head tucked into her neck. She was sound asleep, one arm wrapped around you, holding you securely against her. You tried to shift, just a little, but the slight movement intensified the pain in your head, until you were biting your lip to keep from crying out. You couldn't stop the tears, though, and they fell steadily onto Alexia's neck.

Alexia woke to the sensation of something wet on her neck. She was incredibly groggy, and she just barely registered that you were laying against her.

"Why is my neck wet?" She grumbled, speaking in her normal voice, although much more garbled than normal. At the volume of her voice in your ear, you let out a whimper of pain, unable to contain it.

Alexia was fully awake in a second, remembering that you'd gone to bed not feeling well, the sound you'd just made alerting her to the fact that you were silently crying into her skin. She didn't move though, only starting to rub your back softly.

"Hey, bebé, what is it?" she cooed, keeping her voice at a whisper. You didn't respond, shoulder still shaking with silent cries, and she grew even more concerned. "Please tell me what's wrong, I can't help unless you tell me," she pleaded.

The desperation in her voice got to you, and you managed to roll yourself off of her, onto your back, with minimal sounds of discomfort. Alexia rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at you. She kept her touch feather light as the pads of her fingers lightly wiped away the tears on your face.

"Open your eyes for me, please?" You did as she asked, thankful for the darkness. Your face was screwed up with pain, eyes red and puffy from crying. "Now tell me what's hurting," she said, because there was no question you were in pain.

Your bottom lip trembled as you looked up at Alexia, trying to find the words to express what was going on.

"M-my head," you told her, voice breaking as you spoke through your tears. "Migraine. Really bad."

"Oh, bebé, I'm so sorry. What can I get you? Medicine? An ice pack? Anything," she seemed so eager to help, to fix it, and you felt even worse about what you were about to say.

You'd never felt this bad before. You could barely think. What few thoughts you could form, all told you that you needed to go to the hospital. You knew once the words were out of your mouth, Alexia would freak out, and there'd be no going back. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes, before speaking.

"Ale, you need to take me to the hospital." She was silent for a few moments, and you opened your eyes again to look at her. The fear painted across her face was horrifying.

Your words stunned her. For you, stubborn, independent you, to tell her she needed to take you to the hospital, you must have been in indescribable pain. She allowed herself to panic for only a moment, before she took a deep breath, and burst into action.

"Okay, hospital, I can do that. Should I call an ambulance?" She tried to sound more put together than she felt.

"No, too loud. Drive me?" You were back to speaking in half sentences. She would drive you, she really would, but she took one look at her hands, shaking uncontrollably in panic, and she knew she shouldn't get behind the wheel of the car. Maybe she should have been better in a crisis, maybe she would have been if it had been anyone else. But it was you, and you were her weakness. She didn't want to worry you, though, and she knew if she said she was panicking too much to drive, you'd worry, even in this state.

"Okay mi amor, let me change, and we'll go." You mumbled an agreement, and she climbed out of bed, grabbing her phone. She headed into the closet, shutting the door behind her before flicking the light on. She dialed quickly hoping to god that Mapi had her ringer on.

"This better be good Putellas, I swear." Mapi's voice came over the line, grumpy and harsh.

"Mapi, I need you to drive me and y/n to the hospital." Alexia felt tears pricking her eyes, and she blinked them away, knowing she needed to keep it together.

"Por qué?!" Mapi responded, sounding much more awake. Alexia heard shuffling over the phone, and a yelp that was probably Mapi waking Ingrid up.

"She has a migraine and she said it's really bad and she needs to go to the hospital."

"She asked to go?" Mapi sounded surprised.

"Si."

"Shit, okay we're coming now, we'll be there in a couple minutes." Like Alexia, Mapi recognized how bad you must have been feeling if you had asked to go to the hospital. Neither of them had ever been so grateful to live so close to each other before.

Alexia headed back into the bedroom, having changed while on the phone into sweatpants and a t-shirt, and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"Mapi's coming to drive us, she'll be here in a minute. I'm gonna pick you up to carry you to the car now, vale?" She whispered the words against your forehead.

You replied with a soft, "Okay," pain lacing your voice. You didn't care that Alexia had called Mapi, you didn't care about anything as long as you didn't have to go in an ambulance with the sirens on. As carefully as one would pick up a newborn baby, Alexia gathered you into her arms, holding you tight against her, carrying you out of the room and to the front door. It opened right as she got to it, and Ingrid was standing in front of her, spare key in hand, hair sleep tousled, but looking alert.

"Take her to the car, I'll grab your wallet and keys," Alexia nodded, sliding on shoes before heading out the door, thanking the universe that she had such good friends. Mapi was waiting by car, pulling the door open, wordlessly helping Alexia slide into the backseat. You sat sideways on Alexia's lap, head tucked back into her neck as your tears hit her skin over and over. You clung to her tightly, hands fisted in her shirt, as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing loudly. The walk to the car had been enough to almost make you pass out, but you'd held on to consciousness.

Ingrid climbed into the front seat then, quietly telling Alexia she'd locked the door behind her. Mapi pulled the car out of the driveway, looking in the rearview mirror every so often, studying your form curled up against Alexia. She'd never seen you like this, and she'd never seen Alexia this panicked either. Ingrid was thinking the same thing, and she reached a hand back, giving Alexia's knee a squeeze.

"Everything is gonna be fine, the doctors will know what to do, they'll fix her up fast." Ingrid kept her voice low and reassuring. Alexia nodded, slightly frantically, holding you tighter against her.

The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever, Mapi taking care to drive as carefully as possible, since every jerk the car made caused a whimper of pain to spill from your lips. Alexia paid no attention to the dark city passing her by, her only focus on you in her arms.

Mapi pulled the car right up in front of the doors to the emergency room, and Ingrid was flying out of the car, opening up the door and helping Alexia get you out. Mapi drove off to park the car, while Ingrid walked the two of you inside. Luckily, it was pretty empty, and the nurses ushered Alexia to put you down on a bed in a room almost instantly. She explained the situation, as you were clearly in too much pain to speak, and the nurses were nodding, hooking you up to all sorts of things, before telling Alexia to wait in the waiting room until they had run some tests.

She hesitated, looking desperately at you. You looked so small in the hospital bed, eyes squeezed tightly shut against the harsh lights, hands balled into fists. There were 5 people working over you, all seemed calm and not worried, but Alexia still had to fight the urge to climb into the bed with you, and pull you into your arms until you stopped crying. She felt a hand on her arm, tugging her into the hallway.

"C'mon. She'll be okay, you need to let them work though." Ingrid stated, encouraging Alexia to follow her out into the hall. With one last look at you, she let Ingrid pull her out of the room and walk her back to the waiting room. They found Mapi there, arguing with the nurse at the desk, trying to figure out where you went.

Alexia took a seat in a chair, sighing heavily, and burying her face in her hands. Ingrid and Mapi exchanged a look, taking seats on either side of their captain. Mapi rested her hand on Alexia's back, and was startled when she heard Alexia sniffle into her hands.

Ingrid rolled her eyes at the look on Mapi's face, who looked completely stunned to see her best friend crying. Sure, Alexia never cried, ever, but this situation definitely warranted it.

"She's gonna be fine, Ale. She's in a lot of pain, but thats how migraines work. They'll give her something for it, make sure nothing else is going on, and discharge her." Ingrid told her, clearly trying to make Alexia feel better.

"She's right. Y/n has had a stressful month, this is just her body reacting to it. She'll be fine." Mapi continued, pulling herself together enough to comfort her friend.

Alexia lifted her head then, and both other girls wanted to cry themselves at the look on her face.

"I've never seen her in that much pain before. And for her to ask me to take her to the hospital, she must have been in so much pain." Alexia's voice was shaking when she spoke, wiping her face with her hands to rid it of tears. Mapi and Ingrid looked at her sympathetically.

"I know, but they've probably already got her all drugged out, she's probably not even in any pain anymore. She's funny on pain meds, remember when she got her wisdom teeth out?" Mapi tried to lighten the mood. Alexia smiled slightly, remembering how goofy you'd been. Her friends had helped, she felt marginally better.

And Mapi was right. The doctors had ruled out any serious brain issues, and given you a nice big dose of painkillers. You felt the ache in your head fade as you yourself drifted off again. Your last thought before you fell asleep was that you hoped they'd let Alexia back soon, and that she'd brought the fuzzy sweatshirt she wore to bed, because you were kind of cold.

-----

When you woke, it took you a few minutes to remember where you were. Your brain felt heavy, but not in the painful way it had before. You tried to blink your eyes open, but they weren't really cooperating yet. You tried to bring a hand up to rub at them, only to find that you couldn't move your right arm at all. Using your left hand, despite the IV, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, and cracked them open. You looked down to see what had taken your arm hostage, and found Alexia passed out on it. Her cheek was smushed up against your sheets, both arms wrapped around your one, while her hand somehow held tightly to yours.

You were suddenly overwhelmed; by both the love you felt for the girl laying at your bedside, and the love you felt from her. Tears sprung to your eyes again, and you sighed, slightly annoyed with the amount you'd been crying recently. She stirred at the slight sound you made, eyes blinking open, slightly confused, before she shot straight up in her seat. Her hands released yours, and they hovered frantically over you, as her mouth opened and closed. She was groggy from sleep, and alarmed that you were crying, and her brain was not moving fast enough to decide on a course of action. It would have been funny if she hadn't looked so panicked.

She found her voice then, raising her hands to cradle your cheeks. "Are you in pain? Why are you crying? I should call the doctor, let me find a nurse," her words came out a mile a minute, and you smiled at her, placing your hands over hers.

"Relax, amor. I'm not in pain, sit back down." She looked at you doubtfully, slowly sitting back in her chair.

"If you aren't in pain, why are you crying?" She asked. She was surprised when you blushed, no longer meeting her eyes.

"I just woke up and you were here with me, and... I don't know. It was overwhelming. In a good way. I just love you, a lot." You stuttered through the sentence, before lifting your eyes to meet hers again. her gaze had softened, and you melted at the look on her face.

She pulled you in then, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. She pulled back after a minute, peppering little kisses all across your face until you were laughing, and she had cracked a smile. Quickly, though, her face turned serious again.

"Of course I was here when you woke up. Where else would I be?" She asked, seeming genuinely unsure of where else she would possibly have been.

"I don't know. You still surprise me sometimes, with how much you care. I don't always expect it." You responded. You weren't sure if you were just feeling sappy, or if the drugs were making you talk, but you found yourself overly willing to be honest with her.

"Bebé, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well last night?" She replied, eyes searching yours.

"I didn't want to bother you, you were tired too. And, I guess I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?"

You took a deep breath, picking at a stray thread of the thin blanket laying across your legs. "Worried that if I let you see me like that, all weak, you won't want me anymore. Why would you want to take care of me?"

Alexia was quiet after you spoke, and you made yourself look back up at her. She looked like she was thinking hard.

"Nothing you could ever do would be too much for me. Nothing. Not being sick, or in pain, or sad, or angry. I want you just as much then as I do when you're happy. And I always want to take care of you. You are mi niña bonita y perfecta. I want everything with you, even the stuff that isn't so fun." She spoke slowly, determined that you catch every word. "Okay?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and nodded. "Okay. I promise to try to do better, and let you help me." You figured it was the least you could do, after the little speech she just made. A speech that made you want to run home and grab the ring you'd hidden in the back of your closet, and ask her, right then and there.

Alexia smiled, satisfied, leaning in to kiss you again. You asked her what the doctor had said, and she told you that he thought you hadn't rested enough after the last migraine, and you'd obviously been extra stressed recently. That, combined with the lack of sleep you'd been getting due to early trainings and late nights filled with... other forms of exercise with Alexia, had compounded to give you the migraine you'd experienced.

He recommended a neurologist, who could help you manage them, and also that you find a better way to deal with your stress than... not dealing with it at all. You were free to go once the drugs wore off though. Alexia made you promise to see the neurologist before she brought up the topics of visitors.

"Ingrid and Mapi are still in the waiting room. They were both pretending not to be worried but Mapi has been pacing pretty much since we got here, and Ingrid's gotten all snippy, the way she does when she's worried." You laughed, picturing the scene clearly. You told her to go get them, and she left to do so.

While she was gone, you thought about that ring in your closet again. You had big plans for it over the summer, but you wondered if maybe you couldn't wait until then. You might have to plan something sooner, or risk blurting it out while waiting for the right time. Either way, you were more sure than ever that Alexia was it for you, and more convinced that you'd ever been that you were it for her.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

[gilverrwrites]

Section 48: Unlawful Kisses

Pairing: Sam Winchester/AFAB! Reader

GN pronouns used, but reader does have a vagina, breasts, and wears 'feminine' clothing.

Plot: While studying at for a law exam, the reader just cannot keep their eyes, or mind, off of Sam.

Rating: M/18+

This is actually an updated/re-written fic I wrote and posted on a now deleted blog roughly 10 years ago. (Damn I'm old.) If well received I might try re-doing some other fics/writing new ones, who knows!

Don't forget: You are amazing, and worthy of love.

Content: Swearing, vaginal oral/cunnilingus, body worship, nipple play, vaginal fingering, teasing, dirty talk, semi-public, naked female, clothed male, size difference, light hair pulling, light biting, fluids, consensual, dominate Sam (if you squint). Reader is kind of a perv, Sam is a tease. Reader calls the shots, but Sam is Definity in charge.

Section 47; took away privilege against self-incrimination from any person ordered to testify or produce books, p-

Your eyes darted over to Sam for probably the millionth time since he had joined you half an hour ago. You had an exam tomorrow, and you’d hauled up in the library for some last-minute cramming, but since Sam had joined you, you’d lost any and all ability to concentrate. It was hard enough trying to focus on possibly the drollest piece of text you’d ever had to read, without him being here. Without the musky cedar smell of his aftershave, without his deft fingers skimming each page, without his pursed lips filling your head with thoughts of what he might be able to do with them. Those lips…

“You okay?” His hushed voice pierced the silence as he peeked over at you. You’d been staring, again.

“Who me? Yeah, totally.” You lied, pulling your book up to cover your gradually reddening face. The space between your legs was hot, but your face was hotter. “Peachy.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, unconvinced, but returning to his own book regardless.

Section 47; took away privilege against self-incrimination from any person ordered to testify or produce books, papers, etc., and provided that any person so ordered to testify or produce would be immune from any prosecution based on evidence provided….

Movement in your peripheral distracted you. You looked over to see Sam, leaning all the way back in his chair, his toned arms stretched behind him, neck exposed, chest puffed out. The hem of his shirt had ridden up slightly, giving you the tiniest peak at his abdomen, and the trail of hair that adorned it.

Reluctantly you turned back to your studies, not wanting to be caught eyeing him up yet again, but as soon as your eyes returned to the text in front of you, he let out a sigh.

You glanced over just in time to watch his tongue dart out, wetting his finger so he could turn a page. Amazing how such a small action could make your knees weak. Shit… it’s like he was trying to distract you.

Probably feeling your eye burning into him, Sam turned to look back at you, and yet again you dived back into your textbook, hiding behind its paper walls as you tried to rid your mind of Sam and his mouth.

“Section 48; set forth venue in any prosecution for unlawful… unlawful… unlawful things I want you to do to me with those lips.”

“What?” You jumped at the sound of Sam’s voice.

“What?” You repeated back, spinning to look up at his quizzical expression.

“You said something…” His lips squeezed into a smile, his eyes raked up and down your body, and suddenly you knew how Sam must have felt under your gaze just minutes earlier. “Something about, lips doing unlawful things to you?”

“Shit.” You thought your eyes might bulge out of your head, your heart was in the pit of your stomach, and if you’d been blushing before, you must look like a traffic light now. “Did- did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah.” He confirmed, with a nod. His brows furrowed and his jaw tightened as he leaned in closer. You couldn’t resist taking a deep breath in through your nose, indulging in his scent. His hot breath against the ear sent a chill down your spine. “Were you talking about my lips?”

Your brain went into overdrive, was this it? The moment you’d been waiting for? You and Sam had always had a playful, flirty relationship, but was this the turning point? If you confessed, would he give you what you want? Could you both finally stop beating around the bush and get down and dirty together? What exactly would he do? Or would you humiliate yourself? Would he send you packing with your tail between your legs? Could you live with that rejection? Totally, it would suck but you’d get over it, right? Right.

You chanced a look at Sam's face. His eyes bore into you so intensely it made your stomach roll. You’d never seen him look so fierce before, and much like every other expression he wore, it was hot.

Trying to mimic his confidence you straightened your back, locked eyes with him, and nodded.

He smiled, and immediately you felt assured, but that didn’t stop your hair from standing on edge as he pressed into you. This time you felt the softness of his lips on the shell of your ear, and it made you squirm. “Say it.”

“I want you to do unlawful things to me with your mouth, Sam.” You responded, trying your best to sound sultry.

“Oh yeah.” He murmured, lowering his mouth to the back of your jaw, caressing your skin with each word. You wished he could read the dictionary to you in this exact position. “Like what?”

You scanned through your surroundings, checking each aisle of books to confirm your solitude. Nobody else really came this far back in the library, especially at this time of night. You were pretty certain the only other person in the building was the night librarian, who only ever ventured from her desk to make a coffee in the communal kitchen. You had little to worry about as long as you stayed vigilant. Brazen smile on your lips, you turned your attention back to Sam who seemingly had also been examining your surroundings.

Reaching up, you ran your fingers up the warm skin of his neck and threaded them into his hair. You’d always wondered if his hair was as soft as it looked, and now you finally had confirmation; yes. Yes, it was that soft.

“Like,” You hummed, gently guiding him from your neck until you were face-to-face. “I want you to kiss me, slow and gentle to start. Then har-“

He interrupted you, tenderly pressing his lips to yours, just as gently as you’d imagined. Strong hands came up to cup your face and pull you into him, deepening the kiss. Your own hands knotted into his hair as his mouth pressed harder against your own.

“Like that?” He asked, breaking away just enough so that his words were intelligible.

“Exactly like that.” You replied, surprised by the breathiness of your own voice.

“What next?” He pried, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

You could think of a thousand things you wanted him to do next, but… “Aren’t you worried someone might see us? We could get in a lot of trouble.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when, and if, we get to it.” He shrugged, amusement clear as day on his face, completely unable to refrain from grinning. “If you don’t want that to happen, you’ll have to keep really quiet. Or tell me to stop.”

You knew he was into this, both of you at the mercy of each other. The exhilaration of possibly being caught. Besides, you’d already grabbed the bull by the horns, may as well enjoy the ride.

“Well… Next, I want you to keep kissing me, on my jaw, my neck, my ches-”

Clearly, too excited to wait until you’d finished your instructions, Sam leaned in to kiss you once more. His lips never left yours as his arms looped around your waist, lifting you from your seat like you were nothing and placing you on the desk, blinding you from anyone who might stumble to your section of the library. The simultaneous actions made you lose any composure and you moaned into Sam's mouth.

He pulled back, pressing a finger to his lips and shushing you. You barely had a chance to take in his dishevelled form before he reattached himself to your jawline, rapidly tracing his lips against your smooth skin, occasionally swirling his tongue in any crevice he could find. You had to stifle a whimper when you felt his teeth nipping at your throat.

Sam’s calloused hands massaged your shoulders briefly before he hooks his fingers under the straps of your vest top, working them down your arms, along with the neckline, revealing your bra to him.

“These too?” He asks, leaning back to admire you. Still unable to rein back the smile on his face.

“Those too.” You established as he reached out both hands to cup each breast. Not wanting to be completely exposed, you elected against entirely removing your bra. You did, however, guide his hands to grip the top of its cups, folding them down to your underbust, thus exposing them completely, but allowing you a quick and easy way to pull it back up.

“Lucky me.” Sam mused, eyes glazed, his tongue darted over his lips before he dipped down to fix his mouth around your left nipple.

You sucked in a harsh breath and reached out for him. Your hands gripping into the fabric of his shirt. Unable to ignore the growing heat between your legs you started squirming, rubbing your thighs together to produce any sort of friction. Sam clearly noticed and let out a small laugh, the gust of air on your wet nipple only serving to turn you on all the more. Obviously enjoying your reaction Sam moved over to the other side. Using his fingers to play with your left nipple as he sucks on the right. Playfully he nibbles at the hardened skin before blowing on it. Both times you resist the urge to let out a groan.

“Does that feel good?” He asks, kissing his way back up your chest.

“Yes.” You reply, steering him up until he’s close enough for you to plant another kiss on his lips. With a gentle hand, he pushes you back, cutting your kiss short. You pout and he laughs, but you let him lay you down. Your back presses against your long-forgotten textbooks. You should probably check them out when you leave, just so you can wipe them down before anyone else uses them you think. The feel of Sam's fingers squeezing your tits pulls you from your train of thought.

“Should I keep kissing you here?” He asks, before dipping his hand lower, running it across your belly before hitching up your skirt. Gingerly he runs his thumb over your panties, once twice, three times before looking back up at you. “Or do you want my unlawful mouth down here?” He teased.

“Down there.” You respond without hesitation. “Down there is good!”

“I can tell.” He says as he grasps your underwear, quickly pulling them down your legs, over your feet before dandling them above you. “You’re already soaked.”

And he was right, you could see the dark stain your wetness had left against the fabric. You’d blush, but you were already half naked, and sprawled out for him in the middle of a public space. You couldn’t be any more exposed if you’d tried.

Without another word, Sam tucked your panties into his pocket and got to work. He ghosted the tips of his fingers against your folds and your toes curled. Slowly he added more and more pressure until you could feel him firmly rubbing against your clit.

“Fuck.” You whined, Sam immediately removed his hands from you entirely.

“Wh-“ You darted into a seated position only for Sam to clamp his hand over your mouth.

“Shhh.” He hissed, before grabbing you by the wrists and replacing his hand with your own. “Keep your voice down. Not a peep, okay?”

His voice was deadly serious but the look on his face betrayed him. He was loving this. You bow your head in acknowledgement and allow him to lean you back against the table. You watch impatiently as he re-surveys the area. Clearly content that you’re still alone together, he crouches down, levelling himself with you, then slowly leans in and places a kiss on your core.

Content with keeping you on edge he starts slow. His mouth barely making contact with your skin. Blood rushing, and heart thundering you can barely contain yourself. You rest your legs on his shoulders, thighs around his head, and attempt to urge him on, to pull him closer.

Sam chuckles, his breath taunting your slit.

Then without warning, he delves into you. He starts on your clit again, and you fight every urge to clench your legs around him, to cry out. You bite your knuckles instead as he works downward.

He begins darting his tongue in and out, fucking your entrance until you're dripping down his face. You glance down at him, and have to hold back another groan at what you see. Eye closed, brows knitted, Sam is totally lost, blissed out in between your legs.

One of his hands grips your thigh for purchase as he pulls his face up, returning to your clit. The other hand sneaks between your legs, and he plunges two fingers inside. Allowing you no time to adjust, he sets a fast, steady pace. His fingers keep pumping into you, as his mouth continues working over your clit.

You fight back every moan, every cry that attempts to climb out of you, biting onto your hand so hard that you're afraid you might take a chunk out of yourself.

It isn’t long before your toes begin curling again, you kick your legs around, rutting yourself against Sam's face to try and relieve the energy building up in you. Sam remains unbothered, completely serene buried in your heat. He’s like a machine, a pussy-eating God, never faltering from his pace.

Your orgasm was fast approaching, you arched your back, craning your head back. Your hips stilled, locking in place when it finally hit you. You felt like there was fire in your veins and it was all pulsing into your pussy. Your nails dug into your cheek as you silence your own screams.

Panting and shaky from your orgasm, you sag against the table, letting your legs dangle either side of Sam, signalling to him that you’d climaxed, if he was even in doubt.

“How was that? Everything you had in mind?” He asked, standing up, towering over you. The lower half of his face glistened with your slick.

“Fuck Sam.” You breathed, reaching for him, needing assistance to get it back up.

The sound of footsteps startled you both, interrupting you before you could even start to compliment him. You launched off the table, stretching up to wipe Sam's mouth. Sam in turn roughly gabbed at your top and bra, yanking it back over your chest before you both bombed back into your chairs, and just in time.

The concerned face of the night shift librarian pokes out from behind a shelf. “You kids alright? I thought I heard some commotion?”

“No. We’re good.” You both said in union, suppressing laughter.

The librarian eyed you both wearily before nodding at you both. “Okay then, I’ll let you get back to your books.”

You both waited in complete silence and stillness until you deemed her footsteps far away enough.

“Sam! That was amazing.” You half whispered; half sang.

Sam in turn looked embarrassed, scratching the back of his head, averting his eyes, unable to hide the growing blush on his own cheeks. You couldn’t believe his sheepishness, as if he wasn’t tongue deep inside you just moments before.

“Thanks.” He grinned. “Do you want to come back to my place? I’d like to do that again, but actually get to hear you this time, you know?”

You glanced down at the open books strewn across the desks, and then up at the clock. It was late...

Screw it, if you didn’t have all the reading memorised by now, you weren’t gonna know it by the morning.

“Absolutely!” You exclaimed, not missing the look of triumph in Sam's eyes before you stood and started packing your notes into your bag. “But can I get my underwear back?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Sam patted his pocket as he stood to pack his own bag. You reached your hand over to him, but instead of returning your underwear, he took your hand in his, and began leading you through the shelves. “You can have them back in the morning.”

#sam winchester #sam winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester x reader smut #gilverrwrites

[sturnsreader]

scars

TW: self harm

!! requested by @sturns-posts !!

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

“y/n?” you heard your boyfriend, matt, call from upstairs. you sighed and made your way up stairs to find matt on his laptop. you walked around the corner and smiled walking up to him.

“yes matty?” you asked cheerfully.

“are you okay?” he asked sounding concerned.

“yeah, why?” you asked confused at by the sudden worry.

“well, im just worried about you.” he sighed. you noticed that he kept looking back down to his computer screen to making glances at your arms.

“you would tell me if you weren't, right?” he asked.

you gulped wondering what he knew.

“yes, baby, please dont worry about it.” you nodded quickly before turning back to go downstairs.

he grabbed your waist and pulled you back into his arms playing with your hair.

“are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again repeating himself. you nodded into his chest before he pulled you back leading you into his room. he didn’t say a word, just sat you on his bed and opened up the screen. on the left hand side of the screen was a recent picture of you in mcdonalds that a camera man had taken, on the right hand side was the same photo just zoomed into your wrist. your scars visible for the world to see. you read the headline over and over in your head sighing.

'HAS TWITTER TROLLS PUSHED MATTHEW STURNIOLO’S GIRLFRIEND OVER THE EDGE?'

“what is this? you told me you stopped a while ago and if you felt like that you were going to tell me. did i do something wrong?” he asked pointing to your wrist on the screen with teary eyes. you couldn't speak, your whole throat had closed up.

he noticed and pulled you onto his lap staring into your stinging eyes.

“i love you so much and i want nothing but for you to be the happiest girl ever. i let anyone hurt you. whether they're old or new, i don't care because i'm here for you now and i always will be." he smiled before kissing your forehead softly. a tear escaped your eye making you smile.

“we don't have to talk about this now, whenever you're ready.” he smiled resting your head onto his chest as he wiped the tears off.

| 2 hours later |

“hey, i know you wanted to go to the cabin back in massachusetts, so were going with nick and chris tomorrow morning!” he said with a smile while tucking your hair behind your ear.

“baby, you didn’t have to”

“shh, i wanted to.” he said as he hugged you around the waist.

you waited at least 10 seconds before letting go. matt’s hugs were the most comforting thing ever. “can you help me pack, please.”

matt shook his head up and down with a big smirk while grabbing your hand and walking downstairs to the bedroom.

“oh, how long are we staying.”

“since were with nick and chris we are staying for a week and a half, but soon we can go alone.”

he was digging through the closet trying to find a bag big enough before you made him stop.

“i love you so much.”

“i love you more, my love” you could tell he meant it. “we are going down to nick and chris’s house tomorrow morning at 4 am. i know its early but i want to get there earlier, if its okay with you.” he said right after he found a perfect suitcase to fit all your stuff.

| two days later |

“hey babe i was scrolling through things to do here and there is a tattoo parlor like five minutes away from us can we PLEASE get tattoos together!” nick said excitedly.

“shut up you have been rambling about tattoos the whole time we-“ chris said as you cut him off.

“nick i would LOVE to get a tattoo with you and i know exactly what i want. follow me!” you said as you go to find matt in the store.

“im getting a tattoo with nick and i just want you to draw stars around my scars.” you say while going through your purse to find a pen.

matt looks at you in awe as he takes the marker and draws the cutest stars ever. you start to tear up. you look up at him as he concentrates on drawing them all.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

not my best work but i tried 🥲🥲

i hope you enjoyed and if you have anything you need to talk about message me! i love you guys sm🩷.

#chris sturniolo #fanfic #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #ao3 #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #liam neeson #self love #sh awareness #SoundCloud

[roseykat]

TITLE: Play Tight

PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Reader and Chan divulge their ‘excuse’ as to why they couldn’t make it to hot pot and barbecue dinner with their friends.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.

TAGS: smut, porn with plot, swearing, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampies, fwb, some pillow talk (ish)

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

🏷️ LIST: @chillichillicrabcrab23 @broken-glowsticks @ihatemen55 @boi-bi-ahaha @galamxy @weareapackofstrays @anglerfishiey @elizalabs3 @fr34k4c1dr41n @stayconnecteed @imnotjjini0325 @twinklix @meilix @livsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @valibals @oiikaro @im-sinking-in-mud @aalexyuuuhm @baby-yongbok @/leftkittenface @20minsat180degrees @itsthatbri (if you want to be removed or added to the tag list, please lmk!) ⭐️

A/N: if you don't know what a refractory period is it's essentially about the ability of most women to cum back to back or one after the other in a short span of time between one orgasm and the next. Therefore, if it seems as though I've written about reader having multiple orgasms within quick succession, that's because she is and Chan is making the most of it. Also I really pushed the time limit with uploading this part bc I spent the last few hours trying to get the fan club which took fucking ages...

Hot pot and barbecue with friends - now that sounded fun. 

You saw the group chat messages from earlier, and the plan to all meet up at half past six. Had you not orchestrated other arrangements, you would be sitting with them right now enjoying nice meals and chats. Instead, your body remains to be railed thoroughly, right into the bed that belongs to none other than Chan. The owner of very capable hands who had just finished fucking you on his couch earlier on. 

He too missed dinner with everyone for the same reason. Selfishly being, to get laid. 

Chan presented half of a lie to the group chat, saying that his family was back in the city - which was true, and that he was going to visit them, so he couldn’t make it - not true. You on the other hand conjured the only fib you could think of and told everyone that you were going to be working past six.

Both of you felt relatively guilty for ditching the dinner. However, it would’ve looked ten times more suspicious if the two of you suddenly changed your minds at the same time and decided to show up. 

But why would anyone suspect anything? Nobody knew Chan was rearranging your guts every other night. Or so you thought. That dirty, slutty little secret was only kept hushed between you and Chan. These past couple of months you’ve spent at each other's houses, tainting the very last remnants of innocence either of you had. 

You wouldn’t have realised it at first until you experienced it for yourself, but Chan is and can get really horny. Before him, there was no such thing as ‘hard-paced’ or ‘nasty’ sex. It was fairly vanilla, which there’s nothing wrong with from time to time. But at the minute, that wasn’t the cup of tea you fancied. No. It was something much dirtier and riveting, something that makes you feel like you’re very much alive. 

Chan was able to achieve that in less than half an hour after you both hooked up one time after a night out. Sure there might’ve been alcohol involved, except neither of you were drunk enough to completely forget what an amazing time you both had. So much so that you and Chan decided to hook up again. And again, and again, until it became a weekly event. 

In saying that, there were a few layers as to why you and Chan started seeing each other regularly. You needed the de-stressor from work that had been hounding you for months, and among other things, there is nothing like a good dick down to make just about make every worry in your mind disappear.

As for Chan’s situation, it wasn’t as light. Having been cheated on by his long term partner, Chan entered what you refer to as his ‘hoe phase’ to which he was rather embarrassed to learn that it’s something that people tend to go through when they’ve broken up with their significant other. 

Nonetheless, you and Chan unexpectedly found each other in a way friends wouldn’t typically, and it was only limited to that. No strings attached, still remain good friends, and the best mind blowing sex. 

“Fuck - yes, right there!”

Chan’s hips ram unforgivingly into you from behind. Creating godly, euphoric waves that ripple throughout your body each and every time he does. His fingernails clutch themselves into the soft flesh of your hips, allowing him to use that small bit of traction to pull your body back onto his cock or for him to thrust forward mercilessly. 

This was way better than dinner with friends. 

“W-Wait,” you reach behind to the side of your body, trying to tap his arm and prompt him to slow down so you could get your message across without having it fucked right out of you. “Ride…lemme ride you.” 

Chan swallows and nods, taking a short breather, “yeah, yeah okay.” 

Whilst you’ve learned a lot of things about Chan since you’ve started sleeping with him, he’s also learned some stuff about you. Like discovering throughout your secret sessions with him that you seem to cum the hardest when you’re riding him. He doesn’t entirely see the appeal of it since he doesn’t mind picking up all the slack just so you don’t have to do any of the work. At the same time, however, nothing feels as good as fucking his frustrations into you.

But he also doesn’t mind them getting fucked out of him. It easily added to one of the reasons why he found it so hot to watch you ride dick. 

As he gently slides his cock out of you, moving into the next position where he now gets to lie back against his pillows. He watches you straddle him first, then take his length in hand before aligning it with your hole. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock. 

The ‘o’ shape in your mouth enlarges when the entirety of his length vanishes inside you. He’s big. Something you can’t always grasp every time you sleep together. The silver lining in that however is that the foreplay is amazing. 

“Christ,” you breathe out, lifting your hips up and down a couple of times, groaning as the pleasure already built up from before starts re-taking its effect to its highest extent. “Fuck, make me feel so full.” 

“So you keep telling me,” he responds with a cocky grin as his hand reaches up to one of your tits and gropes ravenously. “But that’s what you like isn’t it? Having a big cock inside you, yeah?”

Your hand claps right on top of his, the other stabilises your body on his chest as you start riding at a pace comfortable enough to build some momentum. It doesn’t take long until every part of your body feels like warm flames are tickling your skin, leaving tingly traces in their wake. 

“Yes, love it so much,” you pant breathlessly. “Love it when it makes me cum.” 

Chan is glad to hear that. Then again, he knows. He’s fucked you long enough to know what you like, what you don’t, and what type of pleasure can turn your mind inside out. With that in mind, and one hand still groping you, he uses the other thumb to find your clit and rub generously. 

“F-Fuck, oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you plead in anguish as you start to feel your orgasm shift into sight. 

It’s right there. The utmost pleasure and ecstasy at its apex swells from the pit of your stomach, to your toes, all the way into the crevices of your brain. Every part of you - physically and mentally, just seems to melt into Chan. His cock, which feels like it was made for you to use like this, glides frictionlessly until his tip kisses your g-spot so lovingly. Each time it hits, Chan earns extra centimetres of long red scratches down his abdomen, marked up by your fingernails. 

“Cum,” he demands through gritted teeth. “Fucking cum all over me.”

Brainless and vacant as you were in trying to respond to him, your actions seemed to speak for themselves. As Chan continues to move his thumb consistently over your clit and you bounce yourself still on his cock, your eyes suddenly screw tight shut - shuddering before a surge of relief gushes from between your legs. 

Chan grins sickeningly. 

The untapped pleasure squeezes and strangles moans out of your throat, yet, in the few spare moments when you had come back down to earth, your stomach felt like it dropped at some point along the way. The minute you open your eyes, breathing hard and heavy, your attention catches on to the mess you’ve made. 

Most of Chan’s abdomen is soaked with your juices, his taut torso gleaming with your cum. Droplets of it roll down his side and seep into the sheets below him. From there, the humiliation is quick to ensue. Chan even sees the panic fill your eyes. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you whine apologetically. “I don’t know what happened! I was - I was caught up in-“

Chan ceases your babbling by grabbing the undersides of your thighs and just about throws you on your back as he moves to top you. His sudden movements catch you off guard, wondering for a moment what he was doing until he started fucking you again. 

“Chris!” you cry out, latching around his back. 

His head buries into the crook of your neck, “wanna feel you do it again. Wanna see you drip down my cock.” 

At his words of request, you knew it was possible with the way that his dick hits deeper, pressing against those sensitive spots inside you that have been milked of pleasure. It’s not difficult to feel it building up again. There’s zero refractory period, allowing you to cum in an uninterrupted procession. At this stage, Chan could just whisper dirty things in your ear and have you become a squirting mess on his bed for him to watch. He wondered if that was actually possible. 

After watching and making you cum an extraordinary amount of times this evening, Chan was about to witness another, this time, mixed with his own release of pleasure. He can never ignore that dense pressure stacking up in his cock, like a blocked pipe that’s about to burst with the help of the tension from your contracting walls. 

One hand at a time, he places each beside your head to lift himself up while still trying to maintain a consistent pace. Then he coils back, grabbing the undersides of your thighs again and leaning some of his weight down so that he can press deeper. 

Tears are pricking your eyes - not from any pain but from pleasure you’ve never felt. It’s so intense and has nowhere in your body to escape that the longer you hold it in, the more explosive it’s going to feel. As your emotions exude the ferocity of another orgasm, Chan absorbs your expressions, giving him a very clear estimate of when you’re about to cum. 

“Gonna give me another one?” he asks even though you’re in no state of mind to give him a verbal answer. “Gonna be a good girl and get my dick wet one last time?” 

You shake your head but only because you’re unsure if you can actually take that pressure that’s about to blow. Regardless of how high he has built your orgasms for you, you always take them well. It has you sobbing - screaming and clutching onto his bedding as you whimper that you’re about to cum. Chan could only just hear you over the sound of his skin slapping against yours. 

“You can do it,” he reassures you. “You always do.” 

At that moment, as if he just flipped a switch inside you, Chan had you gushing in an instant. Your upper body contorts to the left and stiffens as he fucks you right through it, right until his own orgasm slaps him on cue. Grunts mixed with whimpers force their way out from the base of Chan’s throat. His cock uncontrollably spurts his hot white cum, coating liberal amounts on your walls with a few hard, deep thrusts. 

"Fuck, oh my god," he groans through gritted teeth, satisfaction seeping through into his blood.

He pulls back to sit on his heels, looking down as he grabs the base of his cock now slicker than usual with milky, almost transparent liquid rings of white. The fact that both of your juices have mixed together does something to a sick part of Chan’s brain. His lower half is still dripping with your cum, forcing you to shy away into the bunched up sheets when you realise you’ve made another mess on him. 

Too weak to speak up about it, Chan had no trouble reading the room and caught onto your emotions. He was right to assume that you were embarrassed for it but fuck if Chan could experience it all again, he would. That then strikes an idea as he massages your inner thighs with the palms of his hands. 

“That’s never happened before,” he comments with a little bit of surprise, making you turn with embarrassment, all the while trying to ease you back down from your high. “So fucking hot.” 

His thumbs rub into your wet skin, inching closer to your pussy. Before you know it, the backs of his fingertips are brushing over your hole where his cum is leaking out of you. Semi sticky strings of it attach onto him when he pulls away and goes back in to smother it all the way up to your clit. He thumbs softly over the sensitive bud, setting fire again to the muscles in your lower half. 

You shudder a little bit from the faint stimulation, and finally muster the energy to talk, “yeah…d-don’t know how. Usually it’s - mm, just cause’…maybe you were hitting the right spot.”

Chan doesn’t meet your eyes, and by the preoccupied look on his face, it was clear that he had another agenda as his thumb continued to rub mindlessly. Although, he did hear you as he smirked and shook his head. 

“Nah, that was all you,” his mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where his fingers begin to disappear. 

“Chan…” 

“I reckon you could give me one more,” he predicts as he starts to finger you slowly. “Just one more.”

“Please, fuck...” You whine loudly throughout the room. “D-Don’t think I can…please.” 

Chan moves to the side of you just a little bit, placing his other hand on your lower belly to apply just a little bit of welcoming pressure while he ignores you, “yes you can pretty. Only one.”

His fingers curl deviously inside you, forcing an automatic bodily response for your eyes to roll to the back of your head and back to arch clean off the bed. As he strokes over the spongy area, your fists are clenching on the duvet. Your body is beyond sensitive and squirms uncontrollably at the faintest of his touch. 

“Chris!” You sob, tears now leaking down the sides of your face from the euphoria. 

This was the closest replica to being high. It’s like the pleasure picked up where it left off from the previous orgasm Chan brought to you and nearly doubled in intensity to the point where you thought for a moment that you were going to black out. But it hits you harder than before since his fingers have a bit more precision to find and hit your g-spot rather than making you feel fuller. 

“That’s my good girl,” he says encouragingly. 

There and then, as Chan detects the tell-tale signs that you’re about to cum, he finger fucks you at a generous pace that doesn’t let up on the time your insides have to try mitigate the pleasure. It goes into overdrive, sending a bunch of all the right signals straight to your brain. 

“C-Cum…cumming…I’m-”

Chan appreciates the fact that he’s reduced you from crying and screaming his name to a silent, overstimulated mess. Alternatively, you’re surrendering entirely to the ecstasy which sweeps you under like a current. Chan doesn’t need to hold you in place for you to take what he’s giving you with his fingers. He just gives and gives, and gives until for the third time, he has you squirting. 

“Oh yeah, look at that,” he grins excitedly, watching his palm and all the way up to his forearm become completely drenched in your juices. “What a good girl.”

By that point, Chan was successful in running your body dry. His pace slows down, now gently stroking inside you. Your quiet, strained moans die down, along with a reserve tank of energy you had left. You were limp and helpless, a gorgeous mess on the bed for him to admire. 

Chan slowly takes his fingers out, gently massaging around your sensitive pussy, “fuck, so good."

You turn onto your side, processing all of that. For a few moments before, it felt like you had had an out of body experience, and maybe you were. Everything was so consuming and powerful that for a second you didn’t feel like yourself. But that wasn’t a bad thing, nor did you think of it that way. It’s just a new experience that you welcomed, one that made you feel good multiple times. 

Chan hops off the bed and kneels beside you onto the floor as he strokes and pats your head, “you okay?”

You nod then go to sit up, “mm, just out of it. Give me a few minutes.” 

“You - you shouldn’t move so much, not now at least,” Chan warns, then quickly spots the uncomfortable expression on your face as you realise that everything beneath you is wet and sticky.

“Your duvet,” you say to him, looking down and around at all the large damp areas.

“What about it?” 

“Well it’s all ruined-” 

“They’re not ruined,” he says defiantly like a stubborn child, almost like he was offended you even made that sort of comment. “It looks…fucking hot.”

“Hot,” you repeated with an airy chuckle. 

“I didn’t know you could do that,” says Chan, bewildered. 

“Neither could I to be honest,” you agree wholeheartedly. “It was really…intense and...strange.” 

“Strange?” He retorts. 

“Not a bad ‘strange’, just something I’ve always heard of, but never managed to do with someone else before,” you reply. 

Chan smiles to himself, looking at his bed before that grin drops off his face, “never managed to do it with someone else before? As in, you’ve done it before, just…on your own?” 

You blink up at him, quickly changing the subject, “reckon the others are still out?” 

“I’d imagine so,” he says, still thinking about what you said previously. 

“Hot pot and barbecue sounded so nice too…” you trail off, eyes going in and out of focus. Your body is starting to catch up to you.

“Well, luckily we live in the era of food delivery, right?” He responds confidently. “Let me clean you up first, then we can hop in the shower. After that, I’ll order it in for us, sound good?” 

Sometimes when you’re with Chan, you forget that at the end of the day, he’s one of your good friends and still acts like it after you sleep with him. He knows when to be your fuck buddy and when to be your mate. None of it is awkward or weird and nor does he strive to make it that way. 

Potentially it’s because of his nature to be a gentleman inside the bedroom just as much as he is outside, hence why you had a considerate amount of gratitude towards him for not being an ass like some of the people you’ve hooked up with or seen casually in the past. But that could never be the two people you slept with a few weeks back. 

Not Hyunjin nor Jisung, whom you’ve thought about ever since that night at his apartment. Although it was truth or dare that led you all to the events that unfolded, you would’ve still slept with them anyway without the game. Just thinking about the two of them makes you miss them. Makes you miss the way that they touched you. 

It was a different feeling to how Chan normally touches you. With him, he’s a friend with benefits. Someone who can call you or you can call him whenever either of you need each other. As a result, there isn’t going to be anything fond or loving between the pair of you - which you’re more than happy with. You made that clear to Chan at the start that you weren’t looking to enter into a relationship with him at any stage if that’s what he was thinking. 

Thankfully, he wasn’t either. 

But when Hyunjin and Jisung touched you, it was surreal. Almost natural, like they were meant to feel you that way and only them. That was the difference between them and Chan, not that you were comparing them since you saw them in separate positive lights.

There was just something about those two that left a strong imprint on your brain, something you can’t scratch without them…

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#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader

[dilemmaontwolegs]

i know u have a gazillion requests but what if we spice up that Carlos fic? if you decide to do a pt 3. maybe Carlos is once again is frustrated because of the penalty after a good quali and has sex with Rebecca cuz he can't find the model. a lil angst

It’s no secret, I’m in an angsty kinda writing mood at the moment 😅 I also forgot who was meant to be the toxic one...and now it's both of them.

Lady in Red (3) || CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, cheating, manipulation WC: 1.5k

One || Two || Three || Four

You had been called away to work just before qualifying finished. You and half a dozen other models were asked to stand behind the top three drivers and wave feather fans for the cameras while an Elvis impersonator pumped out his signature dance moves. 

From your position you could see the frustration on Carlos’ face. He had qualified second fastest yet he was going to have to start from 12th on the grid. You weren’t the only person in the area upset by the 10 place penalty and the Ferrari supporters were making their opinion known as they chanted for Carlos.

“Alright, sweethearts, we need you over at the Bellagio for some promo shots and then you’re free for the night,” one of the headset-clad organisers said to the group you were with before checking her watch. “Or should I say morning.”

The drive back from the Bellagio to the paddock seemed to take hours with the road closures and checkpoints, but finally you made it back. Knowing Carlos would be waiting somewhere for you, you scanned each floor to find him before heading straight to the top.

“Fuck, mi amor, this is what I need,” Carlos moaned. 

You froze at the sordid scene you had walked in on. Neither one saw you in the doorway of the darkened room, their backs to you as Carlos bent Rebecca over the desk and pounded into her. He curled her hair around his fist and pulled back so to expose the pleasure painted on her face. 

You didn’t even notice you were crying until a droplet fell from your cheek to land on your breast, the feather girl outfit he enjoyed on full display. You suddenly hated how exposed you felt in the ridiculous costume. It was almost as ridiculous as you - for thinking a man like him could change. 

“Take it, cariña, take it,” he stammered as you recognised the pinch of his brow. He was close. He was close to finishing and you were more than done with seeing it. 

You were conscious of your footsteps as you retreated from the room and descended downstairs. You just needed to make it to your dressing room so you could get your stuff and go. 

“Hey,” Charlotte called out as she caught your arm and pulled you to a stop with a friendly smile. “Carlos was looking for you earlier. Did you find him?”

“Yeah, I did,” you whispered, quickly wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Don’t bother drafting up the breakup post.”

Her smile dimmed as confusion replaced it. “What breakup post?”

“Huh,” you laughed humorlessly as you shook your head at your stupidity. “The one Carlos clearly didn’t talk to you about. God, I am a fucking idiot.”

You left the track, heading straight back to your hotel room and before you even reached the room you saw Carlos’ name come up on your phone. You sent him straight to voicemail, again and again.

You barely slept as you thought about how humiliated you felt. You wanted to get him back but you weren’t innocent yourself. You knew your career would be over if you outed the relationship you had with Carlos, even if it made you feel better momentarily. No, you weren’t going to bloody your hands for him, there was already a stain on your soul for what you had knowingly done.

You were a survivor and you were smarter than your recent actions showed. You knew things about Carlos that he had been foolish enough to share in the unburdened state that came after sharing his bed. You were going to use it to your advantage and do what you did best, be the envy of every man.

You had turned your phone off when you arrived at the paddock for the race but it was going to be impossible to ignore Carlos when you were assigned to the Ferrari team. 

“Stacy, swap with me?” you begged as she waited for Charles to escort him to the grid. “Pleeeease.”

“Whatever, French boys aren’t my thing anyway,” she said with a grin before heading next door to Carlos’ side. 

“I’m not French,” Charles corrected as he stepped out of his room. “I’m Monégasque.”

“Today, you’re pole,” you said with a grin as you offered your elbow out to him. “Ready to go?”

You didn’t glance in Carlos’ direction as you accompanied Charles out onto the grid. You didn’t even have to fake enjoying the company as you found the Monégasque had a good sense of humour and made you laugh the entire way. 

From the slamming of Carlos’ car door you knew you were getting to him. Carlos’ fear was losing to his team mate and he was sick of always being compared to Charles Leclerc. 

Carefully angling the feather fan to hide your faces from the jealous driver, you leant in and wished Charles good luck for the race. To the fans, you were clearly talking, but to Carlos? He would always think the worst.

Charles was high with adrenaline when he arrived at the Bellagio after coming second place. It wasn’t the win he was obviously hoping for but you could see how happy he was with the result. 

“So, you like Charles now, huh?” Stacy whispered as she stood as you did, a fake smile on your faces as you lined the interview stage. 

You cast her a quick side glance and winked. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I know why you wanted to swap, Carlos acts like a fucking baby. He practically trashed his garage after Charlotte spoke to him about something. God, I wish I could have heard what that conversation was about.”

“Hmm, me too,” you said with a sick sense of delight as the interviews wrapped up. “Oh, finally, almost time to party.”

“You must be happy, proving Carlos wrong,” you teased Charles as you escorted him back to the Rolls Royce he arrived in. 

His steps faltered and he slowed his walk as his other podium finishers drifted further ahead. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s been telling everyone how much better a driver he is compared to you,” you stated with a shrug. It was an exaggeration, you had overheard him complaining to his father in the garage. “But you showed him.”

“A better driver?” Charles scoffed. “He is full of shit.”

He seemed to be in deep contemplation as he walked silently, until he reached the car and turned to you. “You should come to the after party.”

Carlos had already added you to the invite list but you smiled and batted your lashes as Charles. “Are you asking me?”

He blushed and laughed at himself as he nodded. “Would you like to come to the after party with me?”

“You don’t have a girlfriend do you?”

“No,” he laughed warmly. “I wouldn’t be asking to take you if I did.”

“Then I would love to go with you.” You gave him your room number that was conveniently in the same hotel as him, since both Ferrari drivers stayed in the same one. 

You already had the perfect dress waiting in your room and as you stood in front of the mirror you had to admit you looked stunning. The red dress was tailored to your body and the plunging neckline was risque and exactly what you envisioned it to be. You couldn’t wait to see Carlos’ face when you walked into the party on his teammate's arm.

“Hey,” you greeted as you opened the door after the knock, but it wasn’t who you expected to see on the other side. “Carlos, what are you doing here?”

His jaw fell slack, lips parting, as his eyes trailed down your body. “Mios dios, hermosa.”

You held your hand out, planting it on his chest as he stepped forward to kiss you. “Woah there, buddy, not happening.”

“Why not? Why have you been ignoring me?” he asked with genuine confusion.

“I saw you fucking Rebecca last night after Qualifying.”

He looked a little sheepish as he scratched the back of his heated neck. “I couldn’t find you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better when you call her ‘mi amor’ too?”

“I didn’t mean it, I-I was thinking about you,” his eyes widened as his voice went up a pitch. “I swear.”

You nodded sympathetically as you rubbed his arm. “Of course, like you were thinking about me when you didn’t have that chat with Charlotte. Yeah, I know you didn't, so just go back to your girlfriend.”

“But I want you,” he pouted as he bowed his head and looked up with big brown puppy dog eyes.

“But I don’t want you. Not anymore.” You gave him a push and he ceded the space in your doorway as the  elevator across the hall opened and Charles stepped out looking good in a pair of jeans and a fitted shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. “Hey handsome,” you greeted him with a smile as you grabbed a black clutch with your phone and money. “Perfect timing.”

“You are breathtaking,” he said after a few blinks to recover from the sight of you. He smiled as he brushed past Carlos to kiss your cheek, ignoring the Spaniard completely. “Ready to go, chérie?”

You took his hand and sent a dark smile in Carlos’ direction as you passed by. “See you around, red man.”

Click here for part four.

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine