#make sure my room is only for sleep I guess

[daceydeath]

Blood & Sweat

Pairing: Mafia San x Reader Word Count: 1.3K Genre: Mafia Romance, Smut 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Explicit Activity, Swearing

San covered in sweat, dirt and blood was a normal event so was helping him clean up.

San coming home covered in sweat, dirt and blood was not unusual, it was a hazard of his job. When you had first met San you had hated that he fought for fun but you accepted it along with the idea that he didn’t really want to tell you about his real job, San had told you he could give you the world as long as you only asked what you absolutely had to know about that side of his life but told you that he made good money and was something called an enforcer. You agreed and never asked what an enforcer actually was or what he actually enforced just pretending that the fighting was his job. 

What made tonight unusual was a couple of things. One he was wearing black pants and a black shirt instead of his usual fight gear, his leather jacket had been thrown on the chair by the bed. Ignoring the drastically different attire you instead just continued like normal helping him clean himself up, look over any wounds and make sure he wasn’t badly injured before making sure he got into bed for you to dote on. And two he wasn’t radiating the normal soft sweet San energy that you were so used to tonight there was something distinctly dark and a little dangerous about him that you had never seen before.

“Baby, I’m not too bad this time you can go to bed if you like, I’ll clean myself up” he smiled fondly at you, one large hand cupping your cheek carefully. His eyes were softer but still serious, almost harsh so you knew that this was not going to be a night where he told you the details of the fight, where he had been or who he was with.

“Sannie, let me see if I need to bandage anything, please” you pressed gently not wanting him to get angry at your actions but you were worried about whether he was actually injured under the dark clothing. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment obviously trying to reign back whatever was on his mind to hide it from you before dropping his hand from your face and letting you check him over.

Unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it as gingerly as you possibly could down his shoulders you looked over his ribs, back and arms not finding any cuts or wounds that would need cleaning, but lingered on his abs absentmindedly running your fingers across the hard muscles that made up most of his perfect body. Next you cupped his handsome face while he patiently waited for you to decide he was alright. You ran your fingers across his cheekbones and lips only finding a small nick from what looked like his own tooth kissing the corner of his lips lightly you stepped away from him chewing on your lower lip. Knowing he was actually fine the worry you were feeling was steadily turning into something much needier at the sight of him half dressed standing before you like a piece of art

“Did I pass my beautiful nurse's inspection?” he teased trying to sound playful, watching you stare at him, his eyes starting to cloud with lust.

“I guess I will let you get cleaned up then” you mumbled stepping back to leave the room.

“Or you could help me wash up?” he smirked, eyes darkening slightly before wetting his lower lip as a flush began creeping across your cheeks. “Just to make sure I’m absolutely fine”. 

Sensually he unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, stepping closer to you so he could help you remove your sleep shirt, dropping it on the floor away from his clothes, his hands coming up to cup your breasts as he leant it to press his lips to yours passionately. Your hands instantly went to his chest bracing yourself while he shimmied your sleep shorts down your hips so you could step out of them and tug his own pants off. Pulling you against him he backed you both into the shower turning the water on and standing in front of the spray until it heated up his hands roaming your flesh squeezing roughly and teasing your skin until you whimpered against his lips.

“Such a good girl taking care of me” he whispered against your mouth lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist so he could run his fingers through your folds easily slipping on finger inside your entrance while his thumb worked your clit.

“Oh god” you whined bucking your hips slightly into his hand needing more stimulation that he was giving you. He smirked again kissing across your cheek and down your neck leaving his mark in the juncture of your neck and shoulder and making you yelp. He slid a second finger into you, massaging your walls and stretching you so you would be ready for him, the tips of his fingers effortlessly finding your g spot and pressing against it getting you closer and closer to your high with each passing second.

“Fuck baby, the noises you make” he groaned slipping his fingers from you and backing you against the wall before you could protest the cold tiles making you gasp as the hot water ran down your chest. San dropped to his knees picking your leg up to rest on his shoulder, his tongue quickly replacing his fingers as he ate your pussy like a man possessed.

“San…ngh…ah” you couldn’t even think of any words all you could think about was the feeling of San’s tongue circling your clit in between him sucking it between his lips. Grabbing his hair you felt him moan into your folds the vibrations on your cunt making you cry out as he worked you to the edge again. Just before you came he stopped again ignoring your whimper at a lost orgasm, picking you up he easily impaled you on his cock holding you so he could control how fast you suck down his length growling when he bottomed out inside you.

“Fuck baby, how are you still so tight?” he ground out pressing you further into the wall and snapping his hips into you bruisingly hard making you hiss. San pounded into you, each of his thrusts making your head spin as you clawed at his back to hold on his cock stretching you like he was trying to tear you in half. Panting you could feel fire spreading through you as he pushed you back towards your orgasm, his pace not faltering even when you cried out his name again and again like a prayer.

“I got you baby, come on my cock like a good girl” he grunted his hands gripping your thighs tight enough to leave bruise marks for days to come.

“Ah…San….San” you screamed your orgasm tearing though you like lightening and making you feel like you had shattered and been fucked back together again. San kept pumping into you while your body spasmed around him, your walls clenching him until he followed you over the edge letting your walls milk him of his seed. Slowly he lowered you back down until you stood on your unsteady legs leaning against him while he rinsed you both off and grabbed a towel to wrap you in.

“Guess I went too hard huh?” he laughed breathily carrying you into the bedroom and laying you on the sheets “Now I’m gonna have to look after you baby”.

“Sannie” you squeaked, hiding your face in your hands as he covered you with the quilt to keep you warm, making him laugh properly all the darkness that had been surrounding him earlier was now gone .He padded still naked to the kitchen to get something to drink for you both before climbing into bed beside you and pulling you to him.

A/N: Thank you for reading my loves, I seem to be on a bit of a mafia kick at the moment (oops). All your love and support is appreciated always xxx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz , @armystay89 , @damnyouficc , @roamingpolar @tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie , @krishastumblernow , @mrsseals16 , @fawnpeaks , @leeknowinggg @uno7 @tanzen-ist-gold

#ateez #choi san x reader #san x reader #choi san smut #san smut #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez mafia au #mafia au #Mafia San #Mafia Choi San

[bunnys-kisses]

werewolf!simon 🐺 (bc happy 3,000 followers to me <3)

you met because you were lost in the woods while camping. it wasn't your fault that all of the trees looked the same! but it led you into simon who led you back to his cabin so you could call the park ranger! simon even made you some tea before he called the land-line.

park ranger johnny or 'soap' said that the truck was out of service so it would have to wait until tomorrow. "you can be a gentleman, right simon?" he laughed over the phone. simon grumbled in response, this wasn't going to be the best idea.

it was the full moon after all.

simon allowed you your personal space as he went about his cabin. he even allowed you to use his bed for the evening. you told him that you were fine on the couch! the issue was that the bedroom could be locked from the outside, usually for his own protection. but tonight it was for yours.

"um... mister simon." you said, "i'm sorry that i'm intruding so much."

"it's alright." he got up from his spot in front of the fireplace. he walked past you and rubbed your hair as he went by, "the woods aren't a safe place."

"i was told only deer hang around here."

he chuckled, "you should be more afraid of men." he went to the nearby kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. he opened it with ease and took a sip, "man destroys."

"well." you stepped forward in a daring move, "you're a man and you're taking good care of this place." you swallowed, "i don't think the entire species is doomed."

he chuckled and took another sip, "i'm not a man."

you stilled, "so like an alien."

he put the beer down and pulled away from the counter, "more beast than man. every full moon, beasts like me roam the woods. sometimes we get a little hungry."

"so you would've eaten me?" you swallowed, you balled your fists just in case you had to make an escape.

he approached you, but you were frozen still. instead of touching you with force, it was so gentle. his thumb was dragged down your cheek, "no. i don't hurt pretty things. but i would've snapped my fangs at anything that tried to come near your tent. so for your sake, stay in my room. so i can't hurt you."

you found the courage to touch him back. your fingers dragged down the scar on his face, "but what if they come too close to your home?"

he smiled a little, "i'll give you my shotgun."

you swallowed, "well.. mister simon. maybe i need your protection?" it was better that you had a familiar face around the cabin instead of leaving it all up to chance.

he cupped your face, "i could hurt you."

you shrugged a little, "i'd rather you hurt me then some other man."

he brushed his thumb across your cheek, "well. then i guess i have to be on good behaviour then." then leaned in to kiss you on your forehead, "but i'll need to cover you with my scent."

you were soon stripped, you realized that simon has no sense of modesty. eventually you were tossed on the bed like you were a bag of potatoes. and simon pressed his weight onto you.

you pressed under a man who could easily snap your bones. but instead, you were doing weird beast-esque skin to skin contact. he rubbed up against you.

"mister simon." you squeaked.

"it's just simon."

"are you sure i can't just wear some of your clothes." they would fit.

"nah. gotta get it right into the skin." he said gruffly as he continued to snuggle against you. you didn't know what scent he was putting on you. all you smelt was old spice and aftershave.

usually for simon, he would've been pent up by now. the day was slowly waning. but he found himself getting tired. the usually sharp werewolf was turning into a metaphorical mush. it was like he felt safe in your arms.

the comfort of simon's bed plus your time hiking left you feeling drowsy too. it wasn't long before you both fell asleep. you didn't even feel the man turn into a wolf.

you simply turned to your side and get comfy against the thick hair that covered you. it was like sleeping under one of those expensive shag rugs that rich people had.

that paired with the weighed allowed you to sleep soundly as the full moon passed the sky. you were a relaxing force to this werewolf and you didn't even know it.

the next morning, johnny came by to pick you up but instead found you under the enormous weight of one simon riley. he was soundly snoring and the ranger just chuckled to himself.

"i'll come back later so you don't ma head off."

(this could be expanded on later. i'm calling it the 'howlin' for you' au aka the werewolf au)

#bunny speaks #call of duty #reader insert #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #werewolf!ghost #howlin' for you au #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #werewolf au #werewolf

[desire-mona]

realising none of u have seen my writing before which is. a good thing probably. anyway i thrive best in letter writing format so here's a letter todd wrote to neil after he took a gun induced nap

(obvious tw for death and suicide and general grief adjacent feelings)

-

December 20th, 1959

Neil,

I’ve tried to write this about 7 separate times now, but I feel like I can never get the right combination of words to properly describe how I’m feeling. I don't really know why I’m writing this in the first place, I know you won't be able to read it. I guess I don't need a reason. I don't think I’ll be able to get it right no matter how many times I try, so forgive me if this doesn't make sense.

It's been about 5 days since you killed yourself passed and I still can't confidently say that it feels real. Mr. Keating got fired, Charlie got expelled, Cameron was behind all of it, and I can’t even bring myself to hate him for it. I'm angry, obviously, I’ve never been more furious with anyone in my life, but something in me knows that you wouldn't have hated him either. Things like that have been running through my mind a lot, I find myself operating under what I think you would’ve done, or at least wanted me to do. I hope I’m getting it right. I yelled at Cameron after he ratted us out, and it wasn't like those times before, nobody expected it of me. I like to think you would’ve been proud of me for that.

It's really quiet without you here, in ways that I didn't think I’d notice. You were never all that loud, which I appreciated, but even the small things being gone make me feel like I'm going insane. It's hard getting to sleep without hearing your breathing from across the room. Is that creepy? Sorry. Sometimes I open the window just so I can hear anything but silence. I usually just end up wondering how people can go about their days when someone so important is dead. How are people laughing and enjoying themselves when it feels like my entire world came to a screeching halt? How dare they continue with their lives without even acknowledging how much has changed? That’s about when I close the window, our the room starts to get cold after a while.

I'm trying to stay that more confident version of myself that you were helping me become, I could tell you liked a more outgoing Todd. I think he was buried with you, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to dig him back up. I hope that’s okay, I know how patient you were with me. Thank you for that by the way, you were the first person to give me the time of day when it came to that. It was really special, I wish I had the chance to tell you. There are a lot of things I wish I had the chance to tell you, you were the only person I ever wanted to say things like that to. I'm really sorry that I never did, I realize now that it probably would’ve done you some good to hear it. God only knows how little kindness your father gave you, if I had known how bad it was then I would’ve you deserved better than that. You deserved a lot more than what the world gave you, I think we all do. No amount of sorry’s can fix that.

I miss being near you.

I miss you.

I miss having you around. I’d forgive you if you came back and told us it was all a joke. I wouldn’t be mad at all, I promise.

- Todd Anderson

#desire mona #ugh idk how i feel abt this sorry #is it even in character? #whatever #dead poets society #todd anderson #neil perry #anderperry #writin

[lionofstone]

i got a keyboard for christmas which is great because it means, in a roundabout way that i will not be able to explain succinctly, that i no longer have to sit in bed while i’m writing

#ljs life #i have a very small room and in that room i do not have space for a desk #i do have a chair which i try to use so that im not using my bed for Work Stuff #but it’s actually kind of uncomfortable to sit in & try to balance my laptop on #but now!!! besties now i have a bluetooth mechanical keyboard #which first of all: Sounds #and second of all: easier to balance on my lap in this chair #so now i can set my laptop up on my bed and sit in my chair while i write :))) #i guess i could explain that more succinctly than I thought #either way!!! slowly my surely my bed i becoming Chill Space and my chair is becoming Work/Hobby Space #which yknow. they say making sure your bed is a Chill & Sleep Space Only makes it’s easier to sleep??? #but for years and years I have - by necessity - used my bed as a workspace as well #so im hoping this will help break that habit and help me have more dedicated zones for things #even in such a small space!! #like yes my laptop will still have to go on the bed but i hope that Me As A Person not being there will still help yknow

[oh-look-car-horns]

Wondering what boop count your 3 letter word corresponds to? I gotchu:

Using a python script I wrote, I booped myself 50,000 times, saving an image of my boop-o-meter every 500 boops. Before we get into the results, there are two important limitations to this study that I should mention:

Firstly, because I only recorded the boop-o-meter every 500 boops, if a message appeared for less than 500 boops it may not have been caught.

Secondly, every now and then my computer would lose a boop or two when a click wouldn't register. This is seen in the 500 and 1000 boop images below, which in reality read 498 and 994 respectively. Because of this, boop values are slightly lower than they appear.

With that out of the way, lets dig in.

0-999:

From boops 0-999, the boop-o-meter displays your boop count, and changes color as you boop

Boop count: 0 Boop count: 500 Boop count: 1000

Boop fact: the colors do not change after 1000

LOL:

Between boops 1000 and 1500, the boop-o-meter changed to display 'LOL'. This likely took place at 1000 boops, but maybe it said 'MAX' or sumn for awhile at first? Idk this is already the misinformation website so not my problem.

Boop count: 1500 (actually more like 1490 ish)

More results below the cut

OMG:

Between 1500 and 2000, the boop-o-meter changed to display 'OMG'. Again, this probably happened at 1500 but who knows. Maybe staff made it 1523 for the bit or something.

Boop count: ~2000

WOW:

The boop-o-meter remained at omg until the 3500 boop readpoint, when it switched to 'WOW', meaning this transition happens somewhere between ~2980 and ~3480.

Boop count: ~3500

Boop fact: 'WOW' is the second longest reigning message

*-*:

Between 5000 and 5500 the boop-o-meter switched to '*-*'. You get the idea at this point so I'll speed it up.

Boop count: ~5500

WHY:

The boop-o-meter changed to 'WHY' between 6000 and 6500 boops. For science. That's why.

Boop count: ~6500

PLZ:

Next was 'PLZ', switching between 7000 and 7500.

Boop count: ~7500

AAA:

I'm not sure what bloody urine has to do with anything, but for some reason staff felt is was important to display, switching between 7500 and 8000.

Boop count: ~8000

;_;:

Huh the colon makes that one look weird. 8000-8500.

Boop count: ~8500

Boop fact: That fucking cat haunts me in my dreams

0_0:

I realized after I set my pyautogui script running that my computer wouldn't turn off its screen because of the clicking, so there was a strobing blue light in my room all night. This encapsulated my expression while trying to sleep (8500-9000).

Boop count: ~9000

MAX:

After 9000 it displayed 'MAX'. This was cap. (9000-9500 switch).

Boop count: OVER 9000 (9500)

<33:

I miss my wife. 9500-10,000.

Boop count ~10,000

TUM BLR:

THE HOLY GRAIL. The boop-o-meter switched to displaying 'TUM BLR' between 10,000 and 10,500 boops. Because my actual boop count was slightly behind my theoretical, I'd guess that this change happened at 10,000 boops.

Boop count: ~10,500 (likely switched at 10,000)

Summary:

When charted the boop curve looks as follows:

Boop curve: 0 - 10,000 boops

My script continued to run until 53,000 boops, but no further changes were observed. Again, there were quite possibly more messages at lower boop values, but my ass is not checking. Maybe I should have scaled my sampling accordingly, but it is what it is. Thank you for joining me on this journey, and if you have any corrections or more information, please add it to this post.

Boop fact: Terfs DNI

#boop #boop o meter #april fools #april fool's day #april fools day #python

[sttoru]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐋𝐃-𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘 !

⟣ sypnosis. you were curious if your boyfriend would pass a ‘loyalty test’ that you’ve seen on social media and you decide to see for yourself, only to discover something much more . . . heartwarming.

⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. mostly tooth rotting fluff. talks about cheating / a sprinkle of trust issues from reader. the rest is satoru just being lovesick.

⟣ note. uhhhh… idk just a random idea i got at three am on a saturday night after being woken up from a nightmare >_< enjoy .

you don’t think satoru would actually ever cheat on you. your curiosity just got the best of you when you saw that one girl do a ‘loyalty test’ on her boyfriend. it was quite simple—testing if your partner would hand you their phone without being suspiciously defensive.

therefore you walked into satoru’s room and spotted him laying on his side, his back facing the door. he didn’t have any earphones in so you could hear the sounds of a movie playing on the phone he held in his hands.

he seemed so peaceful and content that you were already feeling bad for disturbing him with your silly test. you moved to sit on the edge of the bed and cleared your throat, making your presence known as if the sorcerer hadn’t sensed it moments ago.

“are you cheating on me?”

blunt and straight to the point.

satoru pauses the show on his phone and looks at you like you had said the most outrageous thing there is (to him, you really did). he drops the device on the bed and turns his body to face yours; “well—hello to you too, baby.”

he runs a hand through his hair before sitting up against the headboard with a raised brow, one hand cautiously reaching out for you. satoru was thinking about all the things he has said or done previously that could’ve possibly make you think he was screwing around behind your back. his mind worked fast, though he couldn’t come up with any logical explanation.

“answer my question please, ‘toru.” you mumble, feeling slightly guilty for doing this to your lover. you could see the confusion plastered on his face.

“no, i am not.” satoru shakes his head whilst holding your hand in his, thumb brushing against the back of it, “what makes you think that?”

you weren’t about to say ‘oh nevermind then! just a dumb thing that i saw on tiktok’—no, there was still one thing left to do. even if you’re so super sure that your boyfriend was hiding nothing from you. maybe there was an one in a million chance that your intuition was wrong. or maybe it’s just your underlying trust issues speaking.

“uhh, just wanted.. to check.. i guess?” you clear your throat and take a deep inhale before putting your hand out to satoru, palm up.

the white-haired sorcerer looks from your hand to you, and back. he doesn’t know what that indicated, so he takes a simple guess; satoru places his chin on your palm, giving you an amused kind of grin. you raise an eyebrow as he rests his head on your hand—which wasn’t what you wanted to gain from your gesture.

but you couldn’t blame him. it was cute that that was the first thing he thought of doing.

“you’re always welcome to check. got nothin’ to hide anyway.” he shrugs, not offended by your accusation in the slightest. you see the way his blue eyes look up at you—in a way that shows his pure, unadulterated adoration for you.

you nod and scratch satoru under his chin, to which he smiles and closes his eyes, enjoying the tingling touch, “then can i .. look through your phone?”

without an ounce of hesitation, he had placed his phone unlocked in your hand. satoru doesn’t care much about privacy anyway—you’re his girlfriend, you’re the only one allowed to know every single thing about him, “of course, baby.”

your eyes land on the screen and your jaw drops as you see his home screen; a picture of you up close, sleeping with your cheek squished against his arm, own hands resting near your head and . . . is that drool trickling down your chin?

“oops, sorry, you were too cute not to take a picture of.” satoru chuckles as he sees your reaction. he lays back on his side, elbow propped on the pillow with his head resting against his hand—watching you go through his phone with a relaxed look.

you roll your eyes playfully before starting your search. your finger swiped across the screen and landed on the messenger app satoru uses. you click on it and scroll through his chats, but don’t find anything out of the ordinary. he recently talked to you, his first year students, nanami and shoko.

you curiously tap on his chat with shoko and don’t read anything interesting at first glance. you scroll up and take note of how satoru was the one who kept most of the conversation going. shoko’s replies were much shorter and curt—straight to the point.

but then your eyes land on a conversation from two weeks ago. satoru had showed shoko a bunch of selfies you had sent him that same day. he was telling her how ‘cute’ and ‘pretty’ you were, practically bragging about you being his girl.

you scroll up some more and see that he’s done the same many times before; sending shoko pictures of you and kind of rambling to her about how beautiful you are.

shoko—being the good friend she is—indulged into his little lovesick ramblings and agreed with every thing satoru said—even complimenting your looks herself. you begun to get embarrassed at this unexpected revelation.

when going through more of his chats with other people, you realise how much satoru loves to talk about you. you couldn’t possibly count the many times satoru had refused invitations from his students or other friends simply because he wanted to hang out with you instead.

you discovered that he even skipped two or three important meetings at the school to go spend the day with you—nanami scolding him via text each time he did so.

“damn..” you murmur and glance up at your lover after closing his messaging app. satoru was staring right back at you with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on him.

he wasn’t embarrassed about you reading some of those cheesy and sappy texts at all. in fact, he was happy. he wants you to know how much he loves you (as if he doesn’t show you exactly that every day of the week).

“go on, sweets.” satoru nods towards his phone, encouraging you to continue your inspection. your eyes dart back towards the screen and you shyly swipe and scroll some more, eventually ending up in his gallery.

the first things you noticed: two albums dedicated to you. all were filled with hundreds of pictures of you (and him). one was named ‘my love,’ the other ‘me&my love’ — both with a heart at the end. scrolling through them, you noticed many images you hadn’t even realised were ever taken.

many of those pictures were also favourited in his gallery.

you nibble on your bottom lip and leave the gallery app even more flustered than before. you aimlessly click around some more on his phone. what really surprised you most was that you were named in his reminder app.

there were tons—all added in one long list. some were so pure that you couldn’t contain the slight tears in your eyes;

‘bring gf gifts’, ‘remind gf that she’s amazing’, ‘bring gf lunch’, ‘send gf daily selfie’, ‘daily cuddles w gf (if she wants)’, ‘give gf big smooch (important!)’, ‘check up on gf when away on business’, — satoru doesn’t actually need to have those reminders on his phone. his mind is so full of you that he’ll automatically remember to do everything, almost on autopilot. he just has those there for… well, just in case he somehow ends up forgetting.

you lock his phone after seeing enough and give it back to your lover. you wordlessly crawl over to him on the bed and snuggle up to his body, head resting on his chest.

“sorry.” you quietly apologise. you knew he wasn’t hiding anything, but the fact that you still went ahead and tried out that ‘loyalty test’ on someone as loyal and loving as satoru makes your heart ache a bit. especially after discovering just how smitten he’s with you.

“dunno why you’re apologising—but please don’t.” satoru whispers and rubs your back in a soothing manner, kissing the top of your head and smiling against your scalp afterwards, “it’s fiiine.”

he’s entertained by the reactions to your discoveries, even if those are but mere indications to the actual unending and undying love he holds for you in his heart.

you lift your head up and look at satoru. your bottom lip stuck out, corners of your mouth twitching slightly whilst your eyes started to get a bit glassy. you really felt bad—yet you also felt appreciated on the other hand. if you didn’t go through with your curious idea, you wouldn’t have gotten to know about any of this.

“aww, my sweet, sweet girl.” satoru coos and places two kisses right below each eye, tapping your nose with a grin. he adores the way you look and if it wasn’t for his self control, he’d have nibbled on those cheeks of yours out of playful aggression.

it’s then that satoru remembers one of his daily tasks; one he hadn’t properly done today.

you were caught off guard once more as satoru’s lips crashed down onto yours—no warning given whatsoever. his big hands held onto your cheeks, thumb rubbing the skin there whilst his glossy lips moved against yours in a gentle yet much sloppy way.

“there,” the white-haired man hums in content as he pulls away, giggling once he sees a bit of his saliva coat your mouth. he wipes it away with his thumb, “your smooch of the day.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the exaggerated cringy way satoru said the latter—your boyfriend laughing right alongside you afterwards.

satoru wasn’t done with you, however. he had many other daily tasks that were yet to be fulfilled.

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #gojo x you #satoru x reader #jjk fic #everyone boooo this bcs i hate the way it turned out ☝🏽☝🏽

[gimmeurtmi]

kinktober day five — hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

tags: friends to lovers (kinda), kinktober series, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, nude drawings, fingering, masturbation, use of “pretty”, lmk if i forgot anything!

inspo: uni student hyunjin but make it art

kink: exhibitionism

{ wc: 2522 }

It was a strange thing to be offered, but it was also flattering to be seen as a suitable candidate. The art department had reached out to a number of students to act as models for their sketch class—and you were one of them. It probably helped that your best friend, Hyunjin, was taking that class and you were sure he was the one to mention your name first.

He had asked you a few times to model for him and the only time you said yes was when you found a thrilling show to watch while you modelled; it was easier to stay still with your mind so occupied.

So you said yes.

And only then did the teacher tell you there was a catch.

“Nude?” You all but screamed.

“I know you and Mr. Hwang are close so I can pair you two together—but if you’re more comfortable modelling for a female student that’s fine too. Either way, you won’t be able to participate until you sign the forms.”

You looked at the consent forms in your hand, mulling it over for a few moments still. Modelling for a girl would be more comfortable, but you didn’t know anyone that took Art and being naked in front of a stranger was far more nerve wracking to you.

You called Hyunjin right away. He assured you he’d make sure you’re comfortable and that you didn’t have to agree at all and that he would buy you lunch for a week. He needed a good score on this assignment and he, too, didn’t feel all that comfortable sketching a stranger under those circumstances.

So you signed the forms.

*

You decided to use your room for the assignment, for privacy reasons and to help you feel more at ease. Nothing could be too scary with your supportive plushies in the same room as you.

Hyunjin walked in with his iced Americano (a second one for you, too) and started setting up his station.

He put all his pens and pencils in order, three huge erasers, two sharpeners, and his giant sketchbook. It was so big you guessed the sketch would end up being life sized.

As he set everything up, you fiddled nervously with the string of your robe. It was just your bathrobe, nothing too special, but the whole situation made your heart race and there was sweat gathering on your forehead.

You weren’t so sure if you could do this after all.

“Hyune,” you start, “does it have to be completely nude?”

He looked up at you from where he was straightening his pencils, eyes boring into you. You swallowed.

“Those are the requirements,” he caught his bottom lip between his teeth before he adds, “do you wanna put on some underwear as a warm-up?”

“Do you need sketches of me in my underwear?” You purse your lips.

“Not really,” he says, bashfully, “but if it’ll be an easier start for you?”

You inhale deeply. Untie your bathrobe. Exhale.

You let the fabric fall off your shoulders, pooling at your feet, before you settle on your bed.

Hyunjin nods at you with a small smile, encouraging.

“You got this,” he tries, putting a fist up in the air in solidarity.

“Can I put on a podcast so I don’t get bored?” You say, conscious to not move your legs too far apart.

“Sure, it’ll probably take me a while,” he chuckles, “I need to do like five.”

“Oh, dear god,” you roll your eyes and Hyunjin laughs at you. The nerves you were feeling have all disappeared already—it actually isn’t too weird being naked in front of him.

He’s your closest friend, has seen you being sick after drinking too much, has seen all your embarrassing childhood photos, has seen you with bed head and delirious from no sleep. He’s seen it all—so it shouldn’t be too weird for him to see your tits, too.

Hyunjin directs your poses, the first one casual as you lay on your back. He’s only sketching your upper body, he says, from the neck to your bellybutton, so he lets you cover up your bottom half with a blanket so you aren’t too cold. The first pose is fun since you don’t have to do anything too strenuous.

Once he flips the page on his sketchbook to a new one he changes your pose. This time your profile is facing him, the leg closer to him bent to hide most of your body. You don’t get the privilege of warmth this time, and your butt starts hurting after ten minutes in this position. But you focus on the podcast that’s still playing in the background instead, trying to be a good model for Hyunjin.

For the third pose he gets up and moves the table to the very edge of your bed. You look at him questioningly as he does so, before you let out a small, “why?”

“It’s just that, well, I need a close up,” he whispered the last part, eyes focused on rearranging his pencils neatly.

“Of….?” You think you know the answer.

“Of you,” he says, pointedly, and so you understand.

You can’t help but think he was going too easy on you until now, that this was the real assignment and he didn’t want to scare you away. And perhaps it worked, because the thought of Hyunjin staring at your pussy with that amount of concentration doesn’t scare you as much as it would’ve twenty minutes ago.

It actually… excites you. You feel a tingle all around your stomach, and your heartbeat feels louder all of a sudden.

It was one thing to just be naked in front of Hyunjin, but having him look right at you, with his face frowned in concentration made your core flutter.

You nod timidly at Hyunjin’s questioning look before he smiles. He sits back down on his chair, grabbing his pencil, and getting to the task at hand.

You feel yourself getting wet at the amount of attention he’s giving your body—even if it’s just with his eyes—and you hope he doesn’t notice it. But you do, and with your legs spread the way he asked them to be, you can even smell your own arousal. You hope he isn’t close enough to notice it as well, but you have a feeling that hope is futile. He can definitely tell.

“I read a lot about this once we were given the assignment,” he starts, focusing solely on his sketchbook as he talks, “and sometimes models feel.. you know. So don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m…” you wanted to defend yourself, because you weren’t even that embarrassed. Just surprisingly turned on. “Okay.”

“It would be more embarrassing for you if you were a guy, guys can’t hide it,” he says, as if to make you feel better.

“I don’t think I can hide anything from you right now,” you scoff at him. Hyunjin giggles in response.

He lets another five minutes or so go by before he takes a look at his drawing. You can’t be too sure because you’ve never seen yourself so close before but it looks like a good sketch. A really good one. You’re flattered at the attention to detail and it doesn’t make you feel shy anymore. You’re almost proud.

“When I was reading,” he coughs, “there was someone who said it’s nicer to sketch those body parts after.. a.. well,”

“You’ve just stared at my vagina for twenty minutes straight, Hyune, surely you can get some words out.”

He looks up at you, eyes round and glossy. His plush bottom lip is slightly red from where he’s been sucking on it as he draws.

“Female genitalia is a beautiful subject to draw after the model has experienced sexual gratification.”

You burst out laughing. “Who talks like that?”

“That’s a direct quote from the article!” He defends.

“So you want me to sexually gratify myself?”

He blushes deeply at that, shaking his hands quickly. “Not if that’s weird! Just if you wanted to. I have enough to probably pass I was just curious if she was right about it and—“

The words die on his tongue when you bring your hand between your legs. Your actions are fuelled by a strange bravery you aren’t familiar with, and the insane amount of arousel that’s coursing through you.

He quickly gets up, turning his eyes away from you.

“Wait, I can leave and you can call me back in when you’re d—“

“—don’t,” you say, running your fingers up and down your wetness, “maybe you can draw the process, too?”

His eyes go wide, so wide he almost looks like a cartoon, before he’s fumbling around to find the chair again. He sits down, quickly grabbing his pencils but they all fall onto the floor in his clumsy urge to get drawing right away.

He recovers them quickly, setting them aside but not at all bothering to arrange them in his neat order like before.

“Yeah, good idea,” he finally says, trying his best to look and draw and breathe at the same time.

He doesn’t have time to draw you teasing yourself before you slip two of your fingers inside you.

The sight is so pretty, so beautiful, and Hyunjin freezes for a moment. He blinks once then twice before he quickly starts putting pencil to paper and sketching out the sight before him.

He knows he won’t be able to do any of it justice but he has to try.

“Can you, move a little less?” He asks after a moment or two.

“I won’t reach sexual gratification if I don’t move,” you explain with a chuckle. If you’re honest, having Hyunjin watching you touch yourself might be enough to get you to cum without much movement at all—but you aren’t sure he should know about all that.

“Yeah, but it’s fucking beautiful and I want to get the details right,” he says.

You exhale lightly at that, trying not to react too much to what he just said. You aren’t sure if he can see you clench around your own fingers or not, but you nod in agreement.

“Pull them out a little bit, just so I can see better,” he directs, so simply, as if he isn’t talking about your fingers deep inside your cunt.

You follow his directions dutifully, as you’ve done all afternoon.

It’s just half of your fingers now, which isn’t much, but you can still feel the stretch. Still, with no friction available to you it makes you needy. So needy.

You want to move your fingers more, you want Hyunjin to watch you do more.

“Hyune,” you say, softly.

“Yeah?” He asks, still concentrating on his task.

“Wanna move now,”

“Just a few final details, okay?” He adds in a whisper, “you’re so beautiful,”

“Hyunjin, please,” you let out, because his compliment isn’t helping your patience at all.

“Would it help if you moved for a bit and then went back to the same pose?” He offers, eyes swimming in sympathy.

“It would, yes,” you nod quickly.

“Go on, then, just for a bit,” he smiles, supportive, before his gaze goes back to his sketch. He takes an eraser, fixing up a few details in an attempt to give you some privacy. But you don’t want that at all.

“Hyunie,” you whine out, and his head snaps up in a second. “It’s no fun if you look away.”

“I, I’m trying not to,” his eyes jump between your face and your exposed pussy, then back to the page. “You should have some privacy.”

“Don’t want it,” you say quickly, fingers moving slowly in and out as he gives you a bit more attention, “want you to see this.”

“I wanna see it too,” he says quietly, “it’s so beautiful.”

“Then look at me,” your fingers move quicker now, your palm resting against your clit and applying just the right amount of pressure, “watch me fuck myself.”

“Fuck,” Hyunjin all but moans, head falling backwards before he quickly zeros in on your cunt.

You let your eyes scan down to his crotch, see the bulge he’s so clearly been trying to hide.

“Come here,” you ask him, patting the space next to you, “want you to really see me.”

Hyunjin almost flips the table over and runs to you, but instead he just trips over one of the legs, letting all the pencils fall again, before he’s climbing onto the bed.

He settles right in front of you, his knee touching your ankle, and lets himself fully gape at the sight in front of him.

“I looked through a lot of portraits you know,” he starts softly, his voice lower than usual, “and I think your pussy is the prettiest one.”

“Maybe it has something to do with the artist,” you smirk at him, mostly to try and hide how much you like him complimenting you.

“Not my sketch,” he’s quick to correct you, “the one here.”

As he says it, he brings his big hand on top of yours, pushing against your hand until your fingers go as deep as they can.

You moan loudly at that, jaw hanging open.

“That’s what you wanted, deep,” he confirmed to himself, looking at your knuckles disappearing into you. “Looks so nice like this, too.”

He grabs your wrist, lifting and pushing your hand in an impossible pace. Your fingers are sore from it after only a few seconds, but Hyunjin’s beautiful face is looking right at you and so you don’t do anything but moan.

“So pretty like this, too,” he says, slightly strained.

You grip his bicep, needing something to ground you as the pleasure starts building and building. It’s much more solid than he lets on, his arms big and strong and his grip on your hand tightening as your whines grow higher and higher until— “I’m gonna…”

“Want me to see it? Should I watch as you cum all over your fingers, pretty?”

And that’s all it takes for it to hit you at full force, your eyes shutting tightly as the pleasure takes over.

Hyunjin giggles at you, small dimples appearing by his cheeks as he averts his gaze away from you. He’s so beautiful even with his head turned away, looking for something.

He quickly finds it and grabs the tissues by your bed to hand you one. You quickly clean off your fingers as you giggle.

“Should you get back to drawing now?” You ask, breathless.

“Yes,” he nods, getting up with a very obvious tent in his pants. He adjusts himself as discreetly as he can, but a sense of pride takes over you knowing you’ve made him hard in the first place.

He gathers the pencils off the floor.

“Next I think I wanna draw your face when you cum, it’s really fucking gorgeous,” he says offhanded as he sketched out the outline of your cunt.

“I’ll have to cum again, no?” You mumble.

“That can be arranged,” he doesn’t even look up.

Your breathe catches in your throat.

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[scuderiahoney]

Tangerine

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist // Part 1 // Part 1.5 // Part 2

Summary: You’re definitely not an insomniac. But Oscar keeps finding you awake at all hours, and he’s starting to get worried. Or: I wrote this while actually being unable to sleep, passed out for 3 hours, woke up and finished it. So… here you go, I guess?

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: insomnia, anxiety/mild paranoia?, alcohol, limited knowledge of the actual structure of the MTC and the corporate structure of McLaren in general, a poorly researched night in Tokyo

The MTC lobby is empty, besides you. The lights are half turned off, motion sensors that have gone hours without detecting anything. You’ve stuck to your table in the corner. It’s quiet, just how you like it.

You look up from your notebook after who knows how long, blinking your weary eyes. Outside, the floodlights reflect off the inky black lake. There’s a car, pulling up in the drop off area outside the front doors. It’s Oscar, you think, his car one of a few that are easily recognizable. Sure enough, it’s confirmed when he climbs out of the driver’s side door. He leaves it running as he makes his way up to the door.

Oscar scans his pass and the doors swing open, followed by all of the lights in the lobby flickering on. You squint, fighting the urge to shield your eyes from the harsh lighting. Oscar is rushing through the lobby, a man on a mission, but he skids to a stop about halfway across the shiny tiled floor.

He turns, slowly, and makes eye contact with you. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

You hold back a laugh, thinking that might be a little mean, all things considered. “What are you doing here?”

He sighs, hands hanging at his sides. “I forgot my phone charger, and my laptop, and…” he pauses, frowning at you. “What are you doing here?”

You raise your brows right back. “Working?”

You watch his eyes flicker across your setup. You’re still in the same McLaren sweatshirt you’d been wearing when you saw him that morning. Your hair is piled atop your head. Your laptop sits open in front of you, the only source of light before Oscar burst through the doors. There are papers and notebooks scattered on the tabletop. Your pen is missing- you selfishly hope that as he scours your table, he’ll spot it.

“You got here at 8am,” he says, bewildered. “It’s almost midnight. That’s almost 16 hours.”

He says nothing about the pen. Why would he? He doesn’t know it’s missing. Logically, it must be here somewhere, probably under a paper or clipped to a notebook, but you’ve given up.

“Yes,” you answer, smirking. “You’re great at math, Oscar.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, home? Sleeping?”

You shrug. “I took breaks. It’s not like I’ve been working all day straight.”

You’re not lying. You’d taken a good, long lunch break, and an afternoon walk around the grounds. You’ve gotten up to stretch a couple times, made runs to the break room for coffee. You hope he doesn’t see straight through it, though. Hope he can’t see the dark circles under your eyes, the paleness of your skin, the exhaustion weighing your shoulders.

It’s not that you weren’t tired. You just knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep. One of those days. So instead, you had decided to be productive. Which had led to this- you in the lobby of your office building, hunched over a laptop. Oscar, the driver whose data you’re scouring, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Go grab your stuff,” you tell him, nodding towards the doors he’d been headed to. “You have an early flight tomorrow.”

He blinks wildly. “We’re on the same flight.”

You nod, because you both know this quite well. There’d been a meeting this morning about who had to be where and at what times. You’re on the first flight out with the main team, headed to Singapore.

“I’m not the one who has to drive the car at very high speeds this weekend,” you remind him, pointing the eraser of your pencil at him. “Or the one who has to be in front of the cameras. You need your beauty sleep.”

Oscar laughs at that, a happy sound that makes you smile, too. “Okay, okay. I’ll be right back.”

You think about disappearing to the bathroom or the break room while he’s gone, just to avoid any further questions. You know Oscar relatively well, though, and knowing him, he’d just wait around until you came back. Or worse, come and try to find you. You can picture it- you pouring your third cup of coffee in the last hour, Oscar watching from the doorway with disdain. You stay put, sipping from your mug and scribbling notes.

He’s back within a few minutes, a backpack in hand. His keys dangle from his fingertips. You don’t look up from your laptop as he walks towards you, that is until he’s standing right in front of you. You blink up at him through your lashes. There’s a frown on his face- this close, you know your lack of sleep must be obvious.

He nudges the top panel of your laptop with a single fingertip. “C’mon. Time to go home.”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, shaking your head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

“What, you just gonna stay here until we all meet up in the morning to go to the airport?” He scoffs.

“That would be ridiculous,” you laugh.

“It would,” he agrees. He seems to see straight through you, though. “Come on. Close the laptop, close the notebooks. You can work on this on the flight, like a normal person.”

“I’m trying to improve your car, you know.”

“I’m not leaving until you do,” he finally says, and you scoff with wide eyes. “And remember, I’m the one who has to actually drive the car. And go in front of the cameras. I need my beauty sleep.”

You rear your head back, unsure how to even counter that. He takes the opportunity to close the laptop for you, and you bat at his hands. Then he’s sweeping your papers into piles, stacking your notebooks and gathering them up into his arms.

“That’s my intellectual property, you know,” you scold him, reaching for the papers. He holds them up above your head easily, and you groan. “Okay, okay, I’ll go, just- I lost my pen, earlier. It’s my favorite one. I just have find it and then I promise I’ll go- you can go home, really, I’ll see you-“

He’s reaching for your head, suddenly, and you freeze. When his hand returns to your view, he’d holding the pen between his fingertips. You blink once, twice, then reach for it, but he’s holding it above your head within seconds, too.

“We’re leaving,” he tells you, firmly. “Come on. Up we go.”

You get to your feet reluctantly and pack your things into your bag. Oscar helps, handing you your papers in neat little piles. He keeps you in front of him as you both exit the lobby, like he’s afraid you might take off running further into the office building. His car is still parked out front, still running, and you see him wince.

“Didn’t expect to be inside for so long,” he says sheepishly.

You laugh lightly, starting your walk towards the employee lot. It’s down a well lit path, but every step feels heavy this late at night.

“Wait,” he says, and you pause. “Do you want a ride? You seem tired. You know, sometimes that’s as bad as driving drunk.”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep behind the wheel,” you tell him. You say it with confidence, because it’s pretty likely you’re not going to fall asleep at all tonight.

He cocks his head at you, cast in the bright glow of the floodlights. “At least let me drive you to your car. Otherwise, how do I know you’re not going to just go back inside?”

You roll your eyes. “And how do I know you’re not trying to kidnap me?”

You end up getting in the car, because he makes it pretty clear he’s not leaving until you do. You contemplate just walking to your own car, but honestly your feet feel so heavy it’s just not worth the fight. Oscar, to his credit, doesn’t kidnap you. He also doesn’t comment on your very modest car, the only one left in the parking lot. He does try to offer you a ride home one more time, but he lets it go after your repeat refusal.

You say goodbye, climb into your own car, and start the engine. The heat kicks on quickly, thank god, and you start up a playlist. It’s only when you look up, ready to leave, that you notice his car is still sitting there. You can just barely see Oscar behind the windshield, and he waves at you. He’s waiting for you to leave.

You flip him off as you roll out of the parking lot, and you watch him laugh in response.

…..

You’re one of the first ones at the office the next morning, and therefore one of the first ones on a shuttle to the airport. Oscar’s chronically late, or as he would call it, chronically precisely on time, so you don’t see him until he’s climbing on the plane. McLaren’s rented out a charter plane for this trip, with the double header making it the easiest solution.

You’re already settled into a seat, laptop open on the table in front of you, headphones on. You barely even look up when you feel him looking over you, but then he’s tugging one side of your headphones off your ear.

“Did you even sleep?” He asks, brows furrowed.

“Yes,” you lie, raising your brows at him defensively.

Oscar raises his brows in return. He obviously doesn’t believe you.

Before he can say anything else, Lando’s behind him, leaning up over his shoulder. “Oscar, mate, get a move on.”

Oscar rolls his eyes but does as Lando’s urging. There’s not assigned seats, per say, but the two drivers are headed towards the middle of the plane where their trainers and other senior staff are sitting. That’s how these things normally go- it just makes sense. They’ll have meetings on the plane, talk about meal plans and strategies and get ready for the weekend. You’ll spend your flight going through the data just one more time, trying to unlock all of the secrets to give Oscar the best possible chance on Sunday.

…..

Singapore is good. Not great, not perfect, but good. For Lando’s team, it’s a huge weekend. And honestly, 4th place for Oscar in his rookie year is huge too. He’s thrilled, tells you as much after the race, after the briefing.

“I know you worked hard this weekend, put in a lot of hours,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my job,” you say with a shrug.

“Right.” He says. “Thanks, though.”

You smile up at him, knowing it’s wobbly and insincere. You don’t take compliments well. “No problem.”

When you get to the hotel that night, you lay down in the bed and try to fall asleep. It’s no use, really, because it’s not your bed, and because your mind is racing. There’s nothing even bothering you, that’s the stupid thing. Just… a billion thoughts flying by all at once. So you wander the hotel, up and down the stairs, down the halls. You make a pit stop in the exercise room, walk on the treadmill, try out the rowing machine. You’ve never been one for working out, but the internet says exercise can help with sleep issues. It’s worth a try, but it doesn’t work.

You contemplate sneaking into the closed hotel pool, but ultimately decide against it. You’d probably get caught, and then you’d get in trouble, and it would somehow make it back to your boss. Then you’d get fired in Singapore, left to find your own way home. So instead, you head for the vending machines on your floor. There’s got to be something in there that’ll cure the racing in your head. Or at least bring you some comfort in the dead of night.

What doesn’t bring you comfort in the dead of night is a face in the reflection on the glass of the vending machine. You nearly scream when you meet someone else’s eyes. You whirl around, arms in a defensive position, and come face to face with Oscar.

“Would’ve pegged you for flight, not fight,” he says drowsily.

“You can’t sneak up on people like that,” you hiss, dropping your hands to your sides.

“Payback,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face clumsily. “B‘sides, I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. I was trying to get a snack.”

You blink at him. “Oscar, it’s 3am.”

He nods, blinks slowly. You almost expect his eyes to stay closed, almost expect him to fall asleep standing up.

“I woke up starving,” he says, shuffling towards one of the vending machines. “Promise you won’t tell Kim? I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

He’s cute when he’s sleepy. You want to tuck him into bed and tell him bedtime stories. You want to kiss his forehead. You blink hard, trying to reset your brain. The sleep deprivation is really getting to you. This is your coworker, your teammate.

You shrug and nod in agreement. “Would’ve kept the secret without the bribe, but if you’re offering…”

Oscar laughs, a quiet sound in the empty night air. “What’ll it be, then?”

He’s leaning against the glass heavily. He must still be half asleep. You can’t blame him. You point at the bag of chips you’d been eyeing, and then at the gummy worms in the corner. He nods in approval of both, selects them, feeds the machine his money. Then he’s picking his own snack- a poptart and a bag of Cheetos. He backs away, but you make a noise and point at the drinks machine.

“And a Red Bull?” You ask, pointing at your favorite flavor where it sits, lit up by fluorescent light.

He turns back, almost puts the money in, and then he pauses and looks at you. “It’s 3am.”

“Right, we established that.”

“Why would you drink Red Bull at 3am?” He asks, bewildered.

You shrug. “Because I like Red Bull.”

“Go work for them, then,” he suggests. You laugh. “Actually, I have a feeling that would be severely detrimental to your health. Too many free energy drinks. Do you ever sleep?”

“Those are big words for 3am,” you tease, nudging his shoulder. “Come on. The tangerine one, please.”

“I’m not buying you a Red Bull.” He shakes his head. “I am walking you back to your room and you’re going to bed.”

“I’ll tell Kim about your snacks.”

“No, you won’t.”

You let him walk you back to your room. He stands there as you swipe the key card, as you open the door and shuffle inside. He says goodnight from the doorway. You close the door after you echo the sentiment, lock all the locks, and lay down in your bed. You close your eyes and try to go to sleep. You really, truly try. But when the clock turns over to 4am, and you realize it’s useless, you roll out of bed and head down to the vending machine. You buy the Redbull with your own money, carry it back to your room, turn on the tv, and settle in until the sun comes up.

…..

Tokyo may just be your favorite city in the entire world. Everything is open all the time. You’ve never felt more seen by a city. The days that you and the rest of the team spend there between the two races are heaven. You have meetings during the day, but they’re short and easy. At night, there are plenty of places for you to roam, plenty of things to do and see.

You spend your nights in ramen bars, in arcades, in toy stores that seem to stretch on for miles. You collect so many souvenirs you’re worried you’ll have to buy a second suitcase. Frankly, you’re going on week two of sleeping only in one to two hour stints, and it’s likely you’re beginning to get a little manic. In Tokyo, though, nobody bats an eye.

You join the team for breakfast in the hotel lobby on Thursday. You’ve somehow ended up at a table with Oscar and Lando- you’d gotten here before anyone else, and Oscar had chosen the seat across from you. Lando asks what you’ve been up to. They’ve been busy with promo stuff, you’ve hardly seen the two of them all week.

You regale them with your stories and hand off your phone to Lando so he can scroll through your pictures. Oscar listens with rapt attention, leaning to look at the photos too.

“How do you do all this and find time to sleep?” Lando asks, an amused tone in his voice.

“She doesn’t, mate,” Oscar replies, pointing at your phone. “Look at the time stamps.”

You roll your eyes and snatch the phone away from them. Lando’s looking at you with wide eyes, Oscar is smiling amusedly.

“Sleep is for the weak,” you tell them, and you swear Lando’s eyes are going to bug out of his head. “We’re in Tokyo, I’m making the most of it.”

To Oscar’s credit, he doesn’t bring up the encounter at the MTC, or the run in at the vending machines. Still, this revelation seems to bewilder Lando.

“Sleep is like, the most important thing,” he says, shaking his head. “For your health.”

“Not all of us have to be in tip top shape,” you say, stabbing your fork into a waffle on your plate. “Some of us get to have fun. Exhibit B. Our breakfasts.”

Lando looks at your plate, filled with waffles and bacon and your cup of coffee, next to it. He casts his glance to his sad looking bowl of oatmeal, then, and sighs heavily. Oscar’s laughing at the two of you, though his plate looks just as sad.

“When you pass out halfway through the day,” Lando says, a retaliatory furrow in his brow, “I’m telling Andrea why.”

“That won’t happen,” you reassure him. “And besides, it’s media day. I have it easy.”

…..

Oscar makes it on the podium on Sunday. You scream your lungs out with the rest of the team, run to the pit wall, watch the podium celebrations. He’s wrapping everyone in enthusiastic hugs, slapping everyone’s backs and grinning so, so widely. All the lost sleep feels worth it, just to see him smile like that.

When he makes it to you, he hauls you into his chest, arms around your shoulders, holding you tight. You could stay like that forever, if he’d let you. He tucks his chin atop your head and you think you’d like to make a home right there, in his arms.

The celebrations go late, and so does the debrief. By the time it’s all said and done, everyone looks exhausted, including the drivers. They start shuttling you all back to the hotel for the night, back in Tokyo so you can get on the plane easily tomorrow morning. You’re just glad to be back in the city. On a night like tonight, buzzing with adrenaline and caffeine, there’s no way you’re falling asleep.

You somehow end up in a shuttle with Oscar. He smells like champagne and sweat, and you tease him about it when he sits down in the back row next to you.

He smiled sheepishly. “So I smell like a podium finisher, then.”

You watch as the city goes by out the window and listen to him chat idly with the others in the van. When you get back, you’re the last one out of the car. He’s waiting outside the hotel, leaning on the wall.

“So, what’s your plan for the night?” He asks, cocking a brow.

“No judgement?” You ask.

“No judgement,” he promises.

You shrug. “Not exactly sure. There’s a lot to do. I’ll probably get some ramen, maybe go shopping. Might just take a walk.”

He nods. “Sleep?”

“Not high on the priority list,” you admit.

He nods again. “Can I come with?”

You blank, staring at him. “What?”

“On your adventure,” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can I come along?”

Suddenly your heart is pounding in your chest. He wants to come with? Why? There’s a part of you that doesn’t like the idea, that thinks your sleepless adventures are for you and you alone. The other part of you, the one that wins out, thinks it might not be so bad to have some companionship.

“… sure,” you agree, eyeing him carefully. “But you have to play along. No forcing me to go to sleep.”

“Promise,” he says, holding out his pinky.

You hook yours with his and seal the deal.

…..

You both head up to your hotel rooms to change clothes, and in Oscar’s case, to take a shower. He sends you a text when he’s ready and you meet him in the lobby. He’s in a casual outfit, jeans and a hoodie. You’re dressed similarly, in a pair of black jeans and a crewneck.

“Where to?” He asks, wide grin on his face.

It turns out that Oscar is the ideal late night adventure companion. You start your night out at a sushi conveyor restaurant, both of you joking about how Lando would never dare to eat there. You eat to your heart’s content and make comments about fueling up for the night ahead. He even joins you in having an energy drink, some Japanese brand that you’ve never heard of. Oscar reads part of the label to you, balks at the amount of caffeine in it, and drinks it anyways.

After the restaurant, the two of you climb into a cab and head to the Shibuya district. It’s crawling with people, buzzing with energy, and you feel right at home. Oscar sticks close to your side, hanging onto the back of your sweatshirt as you cross the busy crosswalks in a sea of people. When you turn, though, he’s smiling like he’s having the time of his life. The two of you climb the stairs to an observatory where you can watch the dance of pedestrians and traffic from above. There’s a glow to the city that feels akin to how your brain feels when you can’t sleep- like it never goes out, never turns off.

You tell this to Oscar, who gives you a contemplative look.

“Is it the energy drinks?” He asks. His hand is on your wrist, likely just to keep track of you in the crowds.

You shake your head. “The energy drinks came after the… not sleeping-“

“Insomnia,” he suggests.

“… not sleeping,” you repeat, narrowing your eyes at him. “Anyways. I was like a zombie. The energy drinks make it so I’m functional. I figure if I’m gonna be awake, may as well enjoy it.”

You head back out onto the streets and begin to wander again. Oscar follows along, always holding onto you in some way, always smiling when you look at him. The two of you wander through art galleries and museums lit up with neon lights. Somewhere in the middle of one of them, he slips his fingers between yours. You’re not complaining. There’s something grounding, leveling about his presence.

You stop for drinks at a bar- some sort of local beer that Oscar orders for both of you in Japanese. It’s followed by a vodka Red Bull, at your insistence. Oscar wrinkles his nose but drinks the whole thing, seemingly determined to match you.

Next door, there’s a highly American themed bowling alley. Oscar laughs about how Logan would love it and pulls you inside. It’s the first stop of the night that he’s suggested, so you go along eagerly. He’s snapping pictures, ones to send to Logan, ones for himself, ones of you smiling, renting out bowling shoes. He pays for the game, and you both do terribly. The worker puts the bumper guards up out of pity, because the two of you obviously have no idea what you’re doing. He’s a world renowned athlete, you’re a highly skilled engineer, and yet, you both suck at bowling.

“When did the in-“ you fix him with a glare, and he stops mid sentence. “When did the not sleeping start?”

You look up at the ceiling of the bowling alley and purse your lips, watching the disco ball spin. “Next question.”

He huffs and shrugs, rolling the ball down the lane. “I don’t have a next question.”

“What’s your family like?”’you ask him, and he smiles, softer than you’ve ever seen him smile before.

“Well, I have three sisters,” he starts, eyes lighting up.

Somewhere between the bowling alley, the next bar, and the shopping mall you end up in, you start to really get to know Oscar. It’s funny how the night opens people up. Everything feels safer in the dark, surrounded by other people. It’s creeping up on 1am- in theory, both of you should be sound asleep. The fact that you’re not makes anything okay. You learn about his family, his childhood, his friends back home and in the UK. You tell him about yourself, too. He listens with an eager look on his face, laughing at all the right moments, squeezing your hand at the right ones, too.

You end up in a store that’s packed to the brim with stuffed animals. He lets you drag him around the whole thing, pointing out cute ones and the ones you think are a bit odd. Then you gasp, pointing excitedly, pulling on his hand.

“It’s you,” you squeak, the delirium beginning to set in. It’s a stuffed Kangaroo, and he groans softly. “Look, you’re even making the same face.”

Oscar seems unable to argue with that. Both he and the stuffed kangaroo do seem to be scowling. He smiles instead, picks it up, and takes it to the register. He buys it before you can really even say anything, and the cashier packages it in a bag. The kangaroo’s head sticks out over the paper, your second faithful companion for the night.

By 3am, Oscar is starting to drag. He perks up every time you look at him and smiles brightly, but you can tell. His grip on your hand is looser lately, and his blinks are growing longer and longer. You turn to him, a sympathetic smile on your face.

“We can go back to the hotel, if you want,” you say, poking his cheek lightly.

He smiles. “Are you tired?”

You sigh. “No, but you are.”

“I’m okay,” he insists, shaking his head. “What about the batting cages you mentioned? That sounded fun.”

You pout at him. “Oscar, you’re half asleep. You’d definitely get hit by a ball.”

He nods in agreement. “Maybe I just need another energy drink?”

You cock your head at him, take in his heavy eyelids, his parted lips. “That would be your third one of the night. And that would be very unhealthy.”

He nods again. “Yeah. Okay. Just… I said I’d be along for the ride.”

“We can hang out at the hotel,” you suggest. “The pool area is open all night.”

“I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”

“Me neither.”

You somehow end up with a pizza on your way back, and the two of you plant yourselves in the pool area on one of the chaise lounge chairs, the pizza box in front of you. You eat the greasy, cheesy food, and even Oscar indulges in it. He has his hand planted on the chair behind your back. Every so often you lean backs against his arm just to feel his presence. His knee bumps against yours, and you smile.

The pool is clear and blue. Neither of you will be swimming, but this felt like a neutral enough place. You’d thought about inviting him back to your room but had felt weird about it. There’s something calming about the still water and the smell of the chlorine, anyways.

He leans his head on your shoulder. The heavy weight of him is nice. He’s solid, sturdy, grounding. You’re chatting idly about something that happened at the race, something he’d missed while he was driving the car. You break off in the middle of a sentence to yawn, and then you close your eyes for just a moment. Oscar’s breath hitches.

The two of you are silent for a moment. You stare into the clear water, aching to drift and float and fall asleep. You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest.

“It started when I was a kid,” you tell him. “I just… stopped sleeping. It comes and goes in cycles. Sometimes I’m fine, sometimes I just…”

“Can’t sleep,” Oscar finishes for you, his words contradicting the sleepy tone of his voice.

“Yeah,” you say, blinking slowly again.

Your head droops, resting against his. He’s so warm, so comforting. He must feel you drifting, must feel your grip faltering, because then he’s sitting up, tucking you into his chest.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asks, drowsily.

“M’so tired,” you admit, curling into him. “Justwannasleep.”

Tears are stinging at your eyes. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t been prepared for this part. The moment when your lack of sleep catches up to you, and you become an emotional, distraught mess. You’re seconds away from full on sobbing.

Oscar seems to sense this. “Okay. Okay, how about- I have a pull out couch in my suite. Why don’t you- if you’re comfortable, you could come sleep there. Maybe it would help to know somebody’s there if you need it? Maybe-“

“Okay,” you answer, nodding against his chest. “Okay, yeah.”

He takes care of the empty pizza box and guides you up to his room. You know there’ll be questions to answer if anyone sees you, but you’re comforted by the fact that it’s 4am and nearly every sane person is sound asleep. He scans into the room, and you let out a sigh when he lets go of your hand. He moves quickly, unfolding the pull out couch, grabbing extra blankets from the cabinets. Before you know it, you’re sitting down on the bed, rubbing your eyes.

It’s strange, now that you’re here. You’re in Oscar’s hotel room. You’ve just spent the night wandering Tokyo with him. You’re exhausted, sleep deprived, still on the verge of tears. Everything feels hazy and blurry.

“I can… go, if you want,” he says, and you blink up at him through your blurry vision. “Or I can sit with you till you fall asleep.”

“That might take a while,” you tell him. “Like, you’re more likely to fall asleep. Even… when I finally get to this point, it takes a while.”

He shrugs. “We could put on a movie.”

That’s exactly what you do. He turns on the tv, spots Finding Nemo on the guide, and turns it on. He sinks down on the bed, leaning against the couch back. You crawl up next to him as he turns the volume low. At first, you just sit shoulder to shoulder. Then he reaches out, wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulls you into his side. You sigh against him. Cradled close, you let the exhausted tears flow. He can’t see you, probably, and even if he can, you can’t bring yourself to care. He leans down, brushes his lips against your forehead.

“M’right here,” he says, softly. “I’ve got you.”

You wake up at 8am with your head in his lap. His alarm is blaring from the side table, and you’re both springing apart. He fumbles for his phone, shutting the alarm off with the shaky hands of someone who’s just been woken up from not nearly enough sleep.

You, on the other hand, have gotten the most consecutive sleep of your last two weeks. You stretch, rubbing the blur from your eyes and blinking at him.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“For what?” He asks, voice steady.

“For… I don’t know. Keeping you up so late? Falling asleep on you?” You shrug. “I… that was a lot, for me to put that all on you.”

Oscar shrugs, so nonchalant about it. “It’s what friends are for.”

You nod, though you’re not convinced. You pull away, and Oscar’s soft smile drops to a flat frown. He reaches for you, but you dodge his touch.

“I should go,” you tell him. “We have to leave soon, people are going to be getting up and- if they see me come out of your room-“

“We can be friends,” he says, again, brows furrowing. “We didn’t do anything wrong, everything is okay-“

He doesn’t understand. It’s fine for him, but this is too much for you. He wants to be friends, but you’re looking at him and thinking about how if you could curl up on his chest every night, you might never have trouble sleeping again. He wants friends, you want more. You can’t have more, though, because there’s no way you’ll keep your job. And he doesn’t want that, anyways. Why would he? You’re just his pity project, the poor girl who can’t sleep, who fails at counting sheep.

“I should go,” you repeat, standing up. You can’t look at him, can’t watch him watching you. “Thank you. For everything. I’m sorry.”

He stands up too, and he grabs your hand. You pause, stuck between ripping your hand from his and running, or whirling around and snapping at him. Fight or flight. Instead, you take a deep breath. You’re still sleep deprived, still exhausted. 4 hours doesn’t fix two weeks of little to no sleep.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, shoulders sagging. “I have a hard time letting people take care of me.”

“It’s okay,” Oscar says. “Just- come sit down? Let’s talk, okay?”

You sink down on the bed, rest your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands. “Why do you care?”

Oscar sits down next to you. He reaches out, knits your fingers together. You’re reminded of the art galleries, of the crowds, of the bowling alley. You split yourself open last night, in the safety of the time when you should’ve been sleeping. He saw you and he’s still here, somehow, hanging on. Your bones are tired. Your head is pounding. You need caffeine.

“I care,” he says, gently, “because I care about you. Because I think you’re a good person, and I want to get to know you better. And because this whole thing is not healthy.”

You sigh. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand methodically, back and forth. The funny thing is, you could fall asleep again, just like this. You could lean into his shoulder, let the warmth of him seep into your skin, and fall asleep. You wonder if he knows it.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, rubbing at your face sleepily. “Osc, I’ve been like this for years. It’s not just going to change now.”

“Not overnight,” he says, softly. There’s a callous on his thumb, you can feel the scrape of it over your skin. It’s oddly soothing. “But I can try. I can be here.”

“Why would you want to?”

“Because despite all the craziness, last night was the most fun I’ve had in weeks,” he says, and you could cry. “I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you. Take you on dates. The whole nine yards.”

You should’ve expected this. Oscar can be shy, and quiet, but he can be straightforward, too. He’s pretty easy to read. He’s blunt with Lando, almost to the point of contention sometimes. But you’d been so focused on trying to prove to him that you were just fine that you hadn’t considered he was feeling the sparks, too. That maybe he wasn’t holding onto you in the crowd just so he didn’t lose you. That maybe he liked the feeling of your skin on his, too.

“If you want that,” he says, voice low.

You blink blearily, pull away to look up at him. “I do.”

He nods, leans forward, kisses your forehead. The rest of it will come later, you think. You can work all the details out when you’re both more awake. Right now, he pulls you into his chest and flops back onto the bed.

“We have an hour before anyone comes looking for us,” he says, rubbing your back lightly. “Close your eyes? You don’t have to sleep, just-“

You blink once, twice, and then you’re fast asleep before he can get another word out.

…..

Oscar wins the sprint race in Qatar, and then takes second on Sunday. He’s nothing but endless wide grins all weekend, despite the heat and the dehydration and his obvious exhaustion. You laugh when you watch him lay down on the floor in the cool down room and smile when he gets sprayed with champagne on the podium. He chases you through the garage afterwards to give you a hug, despite your screeching about how sticky he is.

He tucks you into his chest. “Couldn’t have done it without you, baby.”

Later, you help corral a very tired Oscar and Lando to the shuttles and back to the hotel. They’re each stumbling over their own feet, giggling and laughing about the race, shoving at each other’s shoulders. For a minute, you’re walking through an empty parking lot, far from any other McLaren staff, and Oscar links his fingers with yours. They fit together like puzzle pieces. His fingers are sticky with champagne, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Lando sees and doesn’t say anything, just smiles.

You’re keeping it quiet for now. Time to figure it out between the two of you before you get your bosses involved. You have a feeling it’ll be mostly okay. You’ll figure it out, one way or another.

You follow Oscar up to his hotel room, saying goodnight to Lando as he heads further down the hall. He knits his fingers with yours again, leads you into his room, and collapses onto the bed.

“I’m exhausted,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you?”

You smile down at him, laid out on the bed. He should probably shower, at the very least change his clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him that.

You sigh. “I mean, yeah, but if you’re asking if I’ll be able to sleep… probably not.”

He nods in understanding and purses his lips. “D’you think… would you just… stay, until I fall asleep?” He asks, blinking up at you. “After that you can take my card and get a Red Bull and go do whatever, just-“

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” you tell him.

It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done. He gets ready for bed, and you do the same. You lean against the headboard and he crawls up the bed. He puts his head on a pillow in your lap, curls up into a little c shape. He’s very cat like, you’ve noticed, especially when he’s sleepy. You run your fingers through his hair, the tv playing quietly in the background, and he sighs and closes his eyes.

“Goodnight,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

He’s out within minutes. Oscar is a sound sleeper. You could move him, could shift his head and get up. You could wander the halls, take his card and buy all the energy drinks you desire. But you look down at him, his brow unfurrowed, lips parted, and you can’t bring yourself to do it. You could sit here and watch him breathe all night. It’s a terrifying and comforting thought, all at once.

You don’t sleep. It’s likely you’ll crash on the flight home, or maybe shortly after that. With your luck, you’ll pass out in a meeting when you get back to the MTC. Oscar doesn’t scold you when he wakes up and it’s obvious you’ve been awake all night.

He gets you coffee from the breakfast bar, exactly how you like it. And when he finds you in the backseat of the airport shuttle, he hands you a tangerine Red Bull. It’s early, the sun just peeking up over the horizon, washing the whole city with orange. He’s smiling at you, and you’re smiling right back.

When you fall asleep on his shoulder on the way to the airport, nobody dares to say a word.

…..

“Did you hear we’re gonna be sponsored by Monster next year?” Lando asks, throwing a tennis ball at a wall in the courtyard.

You sit up in the grass nearby, eyes lighting up. “You’re kidding. Free Monster?”

Oscar, whose stomach you’d been laying on, sits up behind you and wraps his arm around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Your consumption will be restricted,” he says, and you laugh.

You suppose that’s fair. Besides, Monster is fine, but nothing will ever top tangerine Red Bull.

check out the companion blurb, Glad You’re Here

thanks for reading, hope you sleep better than me! you can find my other fics here! sweet dreams y’all

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #formula 1 fanfic #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic #Oscar piastri oneshot #pls be gentle I am tired #honeywrites #op81 #Oscar piastri #tangerine!verse

[kiss-inthekitchen]

no vacancy | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 

That is, until you opened the door. 

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 

“Sure looks that way.” 

"At least it's a queen?" 

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 

"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 

"–mind as long as you–" 

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Sorry,” you managed. 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 

“You just said ass.” 

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 

“I knew you’d agree.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out. 

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 

“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  

“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not. I just know you.” 

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 

“I told you to stop profiling me.” 

This time, he just hummed in response. 

“And so what if I stuttered?” 

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings for him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 

“That all makes total sense.” 

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 

“Now tell me the rest of it.” 

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 

“Yes.” 

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 

“It is.” 

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 

“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 

“Are you certain of that?” 

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips.“It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 

“Okay, was it just me, or–” 

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed. 

“Spence?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 

“Well, you kissed me.” 

“I did.”  

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 

You text back: okay? 

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 

You: what did u say? 

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 

You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 

Shit. 

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate?? 

Spencer: Yes 

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn. 

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 

#so they have flip phones but i didnt want to write everything in shorthand so theyre just really fast at it. go with it #spencer texts with perfect grammar bc of course he does #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #my fics

[osaemu]

WHEN YOU'RE SICK: STREAMER!GOJO

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you have a cold, and he has a bag of sweets—how does your streamer boyfriend comfort you when you're sick? (streamer!au)

contents: fem!reader. fluff. pet names. very self-indulgent bc i'm sick right now and needed this for myself :,) can mostly be read outside of the streamer!au i guess.

“i brought you some sweets!”

you look up drowsily when your boyfriend’s familiar voice pulls you out of your sleep. your eyes slowly adjust to the soft lighting of your room and to the perfect, sharp features of the face inches from yours. “satoru, how are you here—”

he cuts you off by pressing a finger to your lips, and a moment later, satoru slips some sort of candy into your mouth. “‘cause you’re sick, and i’m a good boyfriend. obviously,” he teases, smiling endearingly when your eyes light up from the sugary taste of whatever satoru gave you. “how’d you catch a cold, anyways?”

you sit up a little bit, resting your back against the headboard and your head on satoru’s shoulder. “i’m not actually sure,” you admit, snuggling into the arm that wraps itself around you.  “aw, you’re wearing the hoodie i got you,” you point out, tapping on his chest. it’s a small inside joke between the two of you—the logo on the top left of the hoodie is the one from the streamer inmaki’s channel, a user who has a long-standing reputation for being one of your boyfriend’s haters.

“only because i practically ran out of the house once i got your text,” satoru huffs, rolling his blue eyes good-naturedly. he notices the little smile on your face and the way you cover your mouth in an attempt to hide your laugh, so he pulls out his phone from his pocket and adds, “hey, what was i supposed to do when i get a message like this?”

random girl i guess i like: can u come over :( i’m sick and imy

“why’d you change my contact to ‘random girl i guess i like?’” you gasp dramatically, snatching satoru’s phone away from him. a nervous laugh slips out of your boyfriend’s lips before you turn on him, squinting your eyes at him suspiciously. “if i looked at suguru’s contact, what would i see next?”

“...you don’t wanna know.”

“satoru gojo, answer me or i swear—” you don’t get to finish your threat before a sneeze cuts you off, followed by two more that leave you deflated in satoru’s arms. somehow, your head slides down from his shoulder and ends up on his chest, and a look of concern overtakes satoru’s expression.

“how sick are you?” he asks tentatively, fishing out another candy from his pocket and prodding at your lips with it. you open your mouth and let him feed you, taking a second to relish the sweetness of the sugar-loaded bite before you shrug and sniffle again. “poor thing,” satoru coos, rounding his eyes down at you while you rub your nose to get rid of the subtle itching sensation. 

“i can’t stop sniffling,” you mumble dryly, staring up at satoru pathetically. it’s as if you’re a wet cat that’s been sitting in the rain for hours, and as if he’s the kind old man who takes you in and dries you off. satoru’s slender fingers thread themselves through your dishelved hair, stroking it and twining it around his hand. “s’ been like this for hou— no, days,” you continue, determined to complain for at least the next couple minutes. “and—”

satoru’s hands move from the top of your head to your cheeks, cupping them intensely enough to hold your face still as he leans down and gives you a quick kiss on the lips. you make a small sound in protest, not wanting to get him sick too, but he ignores you and peppers feather-like kisses all over your face. “you’re so cute like this, y’know?” he murmurs, squishing your face in between his hands. “all rumpled and bedhead-y, aww.”

“satoru, you’ll get sick,” you point out, futilely trying to lean away from his lips when he goes back in for a kiss again. “satoru!”

“i don’t care,” he grumbles, swatting away your hand when you try to pull on the strings of his hoodie. “you’re my girlfriend, and if i wanna kiss you, then i will. and i don’t care if i get sick, ‘cause i have a pretty girl to take care of me anyways, don’t i?”

you stop protesting and let him press his lips back to yours again, and even though you sniffle again about three times, satoru’s as devoted to you as ever. “really?”

“yeah. my mom— ow, i mean, you too!” he adds quickly, grinning playfully even when you swat his chest. “i’m joking, i’m joking. have some candy, sweet girl.” before you can say anything, satoru shoves a handful of bright, colorful sweets in your mouth and kisses your nose. “take a nap. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”

somehow, the moment you hear satoru’s murmured reassurances, your eyes grow heavy and you surrender yourself to his grip. “m’kay…” you mumble, closing your eyes and exhaling softly. and maybe it’s your imagination, but you swear you can feel satoru’s suppressed laughter as you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. 

… 

“wait, now what do i do?”

#osaemu #streamer!gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #satoru gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo drabbles #jjk drabbles

[entitled-fangirl]

Breakfast is ready.

Felix Catton x reader

Summary: The reader feels sick, but Felix is going to make sure she eats breakfast.

Words: 968

Warnings: sickness, cursing

Author's note: This is kind of from an ask but I made it just about breakfast!

Masterlist

................................................................

She woke up to the blinds being opened by the maid, "Breakfast is ready."

She let out a soft groan, sitting up and stretching her arms out. Her hair was a mess, her clothes frumpeld. She looked over to see that Felix's side of the bed was empty and quite cold. He had been out for a while, and she couldn't possibly guess why he would leave her.

She pushed herself to the edge of the bed, standing onto her feet. Her head hurt, perhaps her body becoming ill, but there was no skipping breakfast. Her legs shivered, her now realizing she is only in Felix's shirt and her underwear. 

Running to the dresser, she pulls a pair of slacks. Pulling them on quickly, she throws a jumper over Felix's shirt. She tames her hair just enough to look presentable. But she takes an extra minute in the mirror, looking at the bags under her eyes. How late had they stayed up?

Throwing on a pair of socks to keep her feet warm, she quickly goes downstairs to breakfast.

Entering the dining room, she's greeted with quiet, "Morning"s. Her eyes immediately scan the table, seeing Felix look up at her too. A bright smile comes across his face at the sight of her sleepy form.

She quickly moves to sit next to him. As she sits down, she feels Felix's hand rest on her back, "You alright, angel?" He asks in a low tone.

"I… yeah. I just don't know why you didn't wake me up this morning." Her hand reaches up to her head as the headache comes back.

He lets out a soft laugh, whispering in her ear, "Well, I figured you deserve as much beauty sleep as I could give you. Seemed to work. I mean, look at you this morning. Taking my fuckin breathe away."

A smile graced her face as her cheek turned a shade of pink.

Duncan entered, "Goodmorning. How would you like your eggs?"

She grimaced, her voice coming out still quiet and hoarse from her sleep, "I'm fine, Duncan. I'm not that hung-"

"-She'll have them over easy. Thanks."

Duncan leaves with a nod.

She turned to Felix, "Why did you do that?"

He shrugs, his arm going over the back of her chair, "You need to eat."

She gives a slight pout, "I can't… my head hurts too bad."

His eyebrows furrow, "Did you sleep alright?"

She nods, "I slept fine, Lex."

He doesn't take that for an answer.

"Listen, angel. You think you're getting sick?"

"No. No. I'm alright."

He nods, deciding not to fight about it at the table. A silence ensues for a while before he decides to break it again. "Oh, angel. We were talking about the Shelley biography."

Venetia jumped in, "yeah. Do you know the story about Shelley's doppelgänger?"

She shook her head, stopping once she remembered the headache.

Felix got up from the table, going to the side table.

Venetia continued, "Shelley's housekeeper was cleaning one of the rooms when Shelley walked past the window and waved at her. So, she waved back before she realized that Shelley was in Italy…"

Felix had returned to the table, gently setting the now made plate in front of his angel for her to eat. She looked at him with a slightly disagreeing look, but knew not to fight about it at the table. 

"…And she was on the top floor of the house…"

Felix grimaced at Venetia's story, his hands moving over his girl's ears to keep her from hearing it. If it would freak him out, he knew she shouldn't hear it, "Oh, Vee. Stop, stop, stop. I won't sleep."

But she continued, "…a few hours later, he drowned."

Elspeth gasped, "oh. Oh, that's just given me goosebumps."

Felix took his hands back, considering it safe for his girl to listen again.

Farleigh stared at the paper in front of him, his voice strong and uncaring, "I heard he fucked his sister."

Sir James finally spoke up, "Oh, for God's sake!"

Felix turned, "Jesus, Farleigh…"

Oliver quipped up, "I think that was Byron."

The table went quiet, as if everyone had forgotten that Oliver was there. That quickly turned to small chatter between the adults.

Farleigh looked disgusted but Felix held an amused smile on his face, turning to her to see she had a matching one. He then pointed at her plate, as if telling her to eat it. About that time, Duncan brought out her eggs, setting it next to her other full plate. She let out a sigh, staring at the food. 

Elspeth was brought out of her talk hearing the girl's sigh. "Oh, darling. Is everything alright?"

Her eyes snapped up, her mouth opening to answer, but Felix beat her to it, "she's not feeling well, that's all."

The mother nodded, "Oh, I see. Nasty sickness going around this time of year. Take your time today, darling."

She nodded gratefully, turning back to her plate. The chattering continued and she continued to stare at the plate. Eventually, Felix brushed her arm lightly with his, his voice soft again, "Is something wrong, angel? You really must eat."

She simply stared at the eggs, feeling herself get sick just staring at them. Felix noticed it, immediately moving the plate away, "Duncan. Could I actually get some eggs just… scrambled?"

"Felix, stop."

"No. I want you to be able to eat what's in front of you. Duncan?"

Duncan nodded, taking the plate away quickly. 

She turns to see everyone staring at them. She mutters a quiet, "I'm sorry."

Felix sighs, "Don't be, angel." He kissed the top of her head as she stared at the table in embarrassment. 

Breakfast continued, Felix's arm around the back of her chair the entire time.

...................................................................

#fanfiction #felix catton #felix catton imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #jacob elordi imagine #jacob elordi x reader #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn 2023 #saltburn #saltburn movie #felix catton fanfic #felix

[janovavalen]

✧when social media calls so does the questions || walker scobell x fem!reader

summary: after fans have created more and more of a scene with y/n l/n and walker scobell they are asked about it in their first interview together.

warning: friendly reminder the people/faces i use are just for the aesthetic ofc imagine it’s you bc we’re on that level of delulu<3

as they day went by y/n sat in her hotel room with her dressers, makeup and nail artist all around . this was probably one thing y/n enjoyed about being who she was and doing what she did.

she got to say there while people made her look pretty at the amazing work they did on her. however, though some of the dresses and suits she had to wear were sometimes out of the ordinary or just tight in general, they always made sure to capture her natural color and make her outfits look beautiful on her.

today y/n would be getting interviewed after she got ready—so was aryan, leah and walker of course. she was beyond nervous, exited? but definitely mostly nervous. she hated when she had to sit in front of a camera—well, it came more naturally when she was acting because she wasn’t really being herself.

but when it came to being interviewed, she was half of the time being told what to say, monitored at all times and some other genuine answers were cut out. she guessed it would probably be more dramatic for the audience and the interviewer.

‘miss. l/n, your being called’ one of her managers called out to her as she was just getting her last piece of clothing on.

‘oh—okay!’ she called back. as her stylist got her finished up and ready she smiled and thanked everyone who gave her a huge smile back while they waved her goodbye.

but before she could leave, she obviously had to take some pictures.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

the second y/n stepped out of her hotel room was as if on the sam strike as the rest of her friends. aryan, leah and walker came out of their separate room with their outfits on.

leah wore a beautiful dress and her afro, aryan wore a simple green shirt and black pants and walker wearing a black jacket with dark blue jeans.

‘okay why is it only me and leah going all out for these outfits?’ y/n placed her hands out motioning to the fact the boys were dressed as if they were going out on a casual walk and y/n and leah to the met gala.

‘well…talk to my styalist with that because i can’t give you an answer’ aryan commented with a smile as y/n laughed a bit. holding her phone in her hand along with her purse.

walker had subconsciously found himself waiting for her to walk beside him which didn’t go unnoticed by aryan and leah.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

as the group walked outside was then the lights began flashing in a hurry. the dark sky around them already causing enough ruckus to other people trying to sleep in the hotel, y/n and the group has stopped to give the crowd what they want.

their pictures.

as they did y/n and walker stood arm to arm. him holding the back of his hand along the back half of her back.

while they smiled, waved, posed and did some silly things out of habit. they finally seen their car was ready, signaling it was time to go, so they all began to walk.

but as y/n did she had felt her shoe get caught on something causing her to stop for a second, walker behind somehow able to feel her presence stopped immediately and looked down to her shoe.

‘oh—wait i got it it’s okay—‘

‘no wait let me help’ walker pulled back and leaned down on his knee to see her heel was stuck on the vent of the ground outside. once he got it out someone yelled—‘it’s like a real life cinderella story!’ causing the crowed to awh and flash their cameras faster.

y/n placed her hand over her mouth and nervously laughed as did walker who placed his hand back against her back and let it hold there as they walked.

when they got in the car they immediately sighed of relief from the outside media not being able to get as good pictures but still tired of course.

‘i don’t think ill ever get over this—the lights might be the cause of me going blind to be honest’ leah mumbled while holding her head in her hands, enjoying the heat of the car in this time of day which was a bit cold outside.

‘yeah, i think we should i hide all night and only take pictures in the day or something so they don’t use pictures’

‘that just gives me even more the reason to stay home, so i’m going along with that plan’ y/n smiled at aryan who laughed.

as they drove to their destination, they all had to take pictures and of course videos for their spam’s and personal cameras rolls for memory’s.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when they arrived to their interview destination, the four of them sat in their chairs.

leah and y/n sat next to each other. walker and scobell seated next to each other—so the order being leah, y/n, walker, and aryan.

‘okay, are you guys ready?’ the interviewer asked with a warm smile, they all nodded their heads and y/n gave a nervous thumbs up as she smiled making walker laugh.

‘okay, we’re on in—3,2,1–‘

looking a bit over at the camera pointed towards her she started—‘hello my name is racheal james and i am here with—‘

‘leah jeffries’ she smiled

‘y/n l/n’ she nervously twisted with her hands—

‘walker scobell’ who gave a smile and soon—‘aryan simhardi’ who waved to the camera.

‘hi! hello, welcome hope things went well as you got here?’

‘uh yeah—y’know, paparazzi, yelling, lights—it went amazing’ walker looked at the racheal who laughed, y/n smiled a bit while she touched a bit of her face as leah and aryan laughed a bit.

‘as usual, as usual—so! i have been dying to ask, how did you guys all get along when you were casted for percy jackson?’

‘uhm, we did pretty good? i mean i came in a bit late since my character doesn’t show up till episode four so i got a bit more time to pack at home but y’know, i think i get along with them amazingly’

‘yeah—i mean, when we all met y/n she was very warm and an inviting person, every funny and so energetic i just love her presence’ walker told while looking at y/n who warmly smiled and placed her hand over her mouth.

‘okay! the two of them!? i can’t! they always do this! it’s constant—‘ leah pointed at the two as she yelled and laughed making y/n and walker nervously laugh.

‘that’s what i was going to say! is it always like that?’ racheal smiled at them.

‘oh my—yes! all the time. on set, at dinner, hang outs—anywhere!’ aryan commented while y/n shook her head with a eye roll and walked just smiled, his face red.

‘okay but wait—so, as you all know, the comments on instagram are going insane over walker and y/n i wanted to ask how do you two feel about it? is it uncomfortable? is it truth or just fans being fans?’

‘uhm….i wouldn’t call them fans just more of very distant friends and family? but im not uncomfortable with it all all—‘

‘yeah no i’m not either, it’s kinda funny and amusing to see everyone piece things together more than some do in the show’ walker shrugged as y/n laughed.

‘ou? so, are you denying or backing up on the rumors that the famous (c/n) and percy jackson may be lovers outside of percy jackson?’

leah immediately looked at aryan who’s eyes snapped to walker and y/n.

the two of them nervously touched their faces while shrugging—‘i—um?’

‘yeah, so…y’know?’ the lot laughed as they watched the two teens nervously try to figure out what to say.

‘okay! i’m sorry i’m sorry to make you uncomfortable! let’s just move onto the next question yeah?’ she smiled while flipping through papers.

y/n placed her hand over her face and sighed deeply to calm herself as for walker who looked at her with a smile and a red warm face.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

about a couple hours later when the interview was done y/n and walker decided to split from the group who had happened to all want to go out to dinner just to hang out.

walker badly wanted to be with y/n but not when she was occupied with the other group, so he pulled her away from the group for a little bit just to talk which y/n didn’t mind in the slightest.

the two of them were standing on the sidewalk as they talked and laughed together.

‘when she asked what was going on in the comments i’m not going to lie i kind of freaked out like i was like—dude what the hell do i say? what do i do?’ walker revealed as he sheepishly moved a bit closer to y/n who did as well.

‘oh my god—same, i was so nervous i didn’t know what i was going to day next to try and recover from that’ she laughed as walker nodded his head in agreement while he placed a small hand on her arm which she didn’t take note of.

after a laugher died down a bit, the two of them stood in a bit of silence as they felt the cold air breeze past them. since y/n wore a outfit that had no jacket, walker had given her his jacket back at the restaurant after seeing cold chills on her arm.

as y/n held her arms with the jacket getting warmer, walker couldn’t held but admire how pretty she looked under the yellow light of the street pole next to them.

‘you looked really pretty’ he smiled as she placed a hand over her mouth to smile widely before placing it back down to her side.

‘thank you…your not too bad yourself’ she teased as he faked a gasp making her laugh. this only prompted him to go after her with his arms around her shoulders as she laughed out loud while he moved their bodies to the side aggressively.

her face being mashed between chest and arm.

‘oh my god! my makeup!’ she cried out with a laugh as he completely ignored her with his own laughter.

once they were done moving he leaned down to give her a kiss on her cheek making the both of them grow warm and red. she smiled deeply while placing her arms around his waist. the two of them embracing each other in the dead of night.

yourinstagram

liked by dior.n.goodjohn, leahavajeffries, aryansimhardi , yourmom and others 

yourinstagram if you guys don’t know…i’m literally terrified of doing almost anything thanks to final destination

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dior.n.goodjohn dude imagine the cars just blowing up out of nowhere while you guys were driving it…

↳ yourinstagram I WAS IMAGINING THAT THE WHOLE TIME WHILE WALKER JUST LAUGHED LIKE WHATS FUNNY?

↳ walker.scobell IT WAS FUNNY BC U WERE CRYING 😭!?

↳ yourinstagram that was supposed to stay between us.😒

↳ walker.scobell oh. 

iamcharliebushnell that’s insane you thought that while driving the whole time

↳ leahsavajeffries i would’ve just got off at that point 😭

↳ walker.scobell oh trust she tried but i didn’t let her leave me on there alone after i paid for that

user282 AHHH MORE WALKER AND Y/N CONTENT<33333

user200 they’re hand feeding us at this point bc omg😭

user1011 i literally love them sm—DID YALL SEE THOES PAPARAZZI PICS OF THEN CUDDLED UP OUTSIDE???

↳ yourinstagram PAPARAZZI PICS?

walker.scobell

liked by yourinstagram, leahsavajeffries, dior.n.goodjohn, aryansimhardi and others

walker.scobell i think y/n enjoys my phone more than her own phone

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yourinstagram i enjoy your phone bc u have storage 🧍🏽‍♀️

↳ walker.scobell OUUUU so just take all mine? got it got it

↳ yourinstagram DONT ACT FUNNY ON HERE BC U TOLD ME TOO U TOLD ME IT WAS OKAY!?

↳ walker.scobell *gulps*

dior.n.goodjohn LOOK AT MY CHILDRENNNNB OMG

iamcharliebushnell they grow up so fast☹️

↳ walker.scobell why r u guys acting like your nearing your eighties

user111 LOOK AT THEMMMNM OMG GGOGMGMGMGMGM

user1034 they’re cuties

user77 i can’t believe they’re actually together like someone don’t pinch me if this is a dream i don’t wanna wake up from it

↳ yourinstagram awh😭?

↳ walker.scobell okay this is adorable though

walker.scobell

liked by walker.scobell, dior.goodjohn, iamcharliebushnell and others

walker.scobell no comment

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dior.n.goodjohn GET THHHHHHHHHHHH SHHHHH OUT PF HERE OMG

iamcharliebushnell okay but how many times have they hung out without us is the real question

leahsavajeffries alright yall not to much

↳ walker.scobell HUH😭

yourmom i’m so happy you make her happy☺️

↳ walker.scobell awh mrs.l/n

↳ yourinstagram awh mom STOP☹️

yourinstagram that busted up camera ain’t give no promises

↳ walker.scobell that’s what happens when you drop it like thirty times…

user11000 LOOK AT THEM GUYSSSSSS AHHHH

user220 i’m so happy i shipped them the second i saw them on screen together and irl

user1479 the fact they are literally two half’s of a whole is proof soulmates are real

taglist: @callsignwidow

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy pjo #percy series #grover underwood #walker scobell

[buckys-wintersoldier]

I only want you | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Female!Reader

Summary -> During the party he confesses his feelings for you, he kisses you but the next day he isn’t the same anymore. Your best friend is the biggest idiot you have ever seen and you don’t know why.

Warnings -> Bucky being an idiot, mention of Bucky’s past/trauma, Sharon being a bitch, hurt/comfort, angst, crying, kind of insults, fluff

Wordcount -> 7.1k (it’s long but it’s worth it, I guess)

A/N: I want to thank @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for listening when I came up with that idea as well as supporting me to find the way through all the ideas, and thank you so much for proofreading it, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry when I hurt someone, trust me I cried a lot while I wrote that oneshot but I just needed to write something to calm down my feelings and yeah here we are. I hope you all enjoy it.

Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky isn’t really a drinker, especially not since he became the Winter Soldier. He enjoys the taste, but the serum that is constantly running through his veins makes it impossible for him to experience the effects of the alcohol. It isn’t rare that he wishes to get drunk so he can forget all the memories of the things she did during the time with Hydra. It’s like Thor knew exactly about his thoughts because he is waving a flask of Asgardian Ale in front of Bucky, and the brown-haired man decides it is the perfect opportunity to drink his troubles away.

“Buck, you shouldn’t drink too much of that Asgardian Ale,” you mumble while you sit next to your best friend and look at him. You know about his trouble and about his traumatic past, but you also know it’s never an opportunity to drink it away. He has the glass completely full again and smiles at you.

“It’s oke; I can’t get too drunk. I’m the Wiener Soldier,” he says and bursts out laughing. Then he lifts his glass and turns around. "Cheers!" he shouts through the room, even when it’s almost impossible that someone hears it.

The music is way too loud to hear your own words without shouting. So it isn’t surprising when the people in the room don’t hear what Bucky shouts. Except for the two next to him, you and Steve.

“Cheers, pal!" Steve shouts and lifts his glass as well. He smiles at Bucky before he pours the liquid down his throat. You shake your head and turn around. Your back leans against the counter, and you place your forearms on top of the counter, looking at the people dancing in the middle of the room.

“Haven’t felt like that since the 40’s,” Bucky groans, filling his glass again. Then he turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. “I feel like I’m 20 again; it feels better than I thought. Do you always feel like that?” he asks and places his hand on your shoulder, standing up slowly to stand in front of you.

Then he winks at you while he almost falls to the side. You almost burst out laughing when he tries to grab something to not fall.

“Woah, the room is spinning. I didn’t know Tony was able to build something like that,” your best friend says while holding your shoulders so he won’t fall down.

You look at him and grip his arms to lead him to the seat next to you again, but he doesn’t want to move. You giggle when he leans closer, and the stubble from his beard tickles you. Bucky kisses your cheek softly.

“My lady, wanna dance with me?” he asks and looks at you with the most adorable puppy look.

His blue eyes are almost begging you to dance with him, and even when you would prefer to bring him into his room and make sure he goes to sleep, you can’t say no.

With a nod, you stand up as well, and he wraps his arms immediately around your waist. He doesn’t walk far away from the counter, just a few steps, so the two of you can dance without crashing against something. Bucky spins you around while he holds you still, pressed against him.

You wonder how it must feel for him when the room is already spinning, but the way he smiles and looks at you makes your mind dizzy, and you can’t think of anything other than him. You lay your head against his shoulder, and the heat of his body warms you. His hands are around your waist, making you almost melt in his embrace, and you could stay like that for the rest of the evening.

After a few minutes and Bucky almost lying on the ground and sleeping, you push him to the seats. Making sure he doesn’t miss the chair, when he sits, he immediately looks for his glass.

“Where is it? I’m thirsty," he says, looking at you with a slightly sad gaze.

You feel a bit sorry for him, but you reach for another glass, this time with water. Bucky looks at it skeptically, but then he pours it down his throat. Shaking his head like it’s something awful he doesn’t like. You chuckle, and it makes him look at you.

“Have you ever tried that? That’s awful,” he tells you and offers you the glass even when it’s empty.

“It’s not that bad,” you reply, and you take the glass to place it on the counter next to you.

“We should bring you into your room, you should sleep a bit,” you say, taking his hands into yours.

Before you can pull him up, and with you out of the room, he pulls you closer, and his lips are just a few inches away from yours. He is so close that you can feel his breath against your lips; it's warm and smells strongly of the ale he has consumed. You need to close your eyes for a moment. The man in front of you is making you go crazy.

“I don’t want to go to bed, not yet. I want to kiss you first, can I?” he asks you, and you immediately feel like he is Bucky from the 40’s again. And even when you don’t agree to drink his troubles away, you’re happy that he doesn’t have to suffer with his past right now. And let’s be honest, the 40’s Bucky is a gentleman, and you always wanted to know him; now you have the chance, at least for tonight.

“Doll?” Bucky asks, and you feel a shiver along your spine because of his soft voice.

You look into his eyes and smile softly.

“Of course,” you answer, not sure anymore about the question he asked.

He leans closer and kisses you softly. Bucky’s pink, plumb lips are so soft on yours, you never imagined them being that soft. You slide your hands through his hair, playing with his light curls. His lips move slowly against yours, while he lets you feel everything you tried to avoid when you’re around him. The feeling in your stomach whenever he touches you, the way he looks at you, or talks to you. You adore the way he tells you ‘Doll’ and you enjoy every moment you can spend with your best friend.

And that’s the point where you thought he would never feel the same for you. He is your best friend, and he was always a gentleman, so you were sure he was just nice. And now he is kissing you, with his hands at your waist, holding you close. Bucky is drunk, so you aren’t sure if it’s just a situation of his drunken state, but they always say: drunk people tell the truth, so he would feel the same for you as you feel for him.

When the two of you move a few inches away from each other, you still look into his eyes. His gaze looks a bit foggy, but you can also see the storm in his blue eyes.

“I love you; you’re the most adorable girl I know. You don’t know what you do to me whenever you look at me or just touch me softly. My feelings go crazy, and whenever another man walks close to you, I want to push them away and tell them you’re mine. I can’t sleep because I think of you; when you’re in a room with me, I can’t concentrate on something else, just on you,” Bucky says, and he smiles softly, his cheeks turning slightly red. “I have loved you for so long, but I thought you would never love me the same way. I was the Winter Soldier, and I don’t think I deserve someone brave, strong, wonderful, and perfect like you,” he adds, leaning his forehead against yours, wanting you to be as close as possible and feel your warmth.

You smile and press your lips against his again. The tingling feeling in your stomach grows again, and when he stands up, he towers over you, placing his hands around your cheeks, and he pulls you closer.

“I love you so much, my doll,” he whispers and slowly lets go of you, his hands gripping your waist again.

“I love you too, Buck. And you deserve everything good; it wasn’t you when you were the Winter Soldier. You’re a gentleman and the most precious one; I love the way you care about everyone you love,” you tell him, and he blushes.

Bucky lifts one of his hands and presses two of his fingers onto your lips, trying to make you shut up before you can compliment him more.

“You need more than two fingers to make me shut up,” you giggle, and his smile grows before he leans down and presses his lips on yours. He makes you speechless with the way his soft and warm lips move against yours.

“You two are almost disgusting,” Steve mumbles next to you, making you chuckle.

When you and Bucky break the kiss, you look at Steve. He still looks at you and blushes when he recognizes that you caught him looking at you and Bucky.

“You think it’s almost disgusting, but you can’t stop looking at us, huh?” you ask, and he immediately turns his head away while his cheeks get deeply red.

When you turn your head back to look at Bucky, you feel a burning look in your back. Without looking around, you already know the person who is staring at you with the same angry gaze; she always looks at you. Bucky recognizes your thoughtful look and looks up to see the person behind you. His hand clenches around your waist, and you hiss softly.

“Sorry, doll,” he mumbles, immediately losing his grip around your waist.

“Tony is staring at mine,” he growls, and you look around. You see Tony standing on the other side of the room and looking in your direction. He looks annoyed, and when you look a few inches further to the side, you see the person who is burning a hole in your back. Bucky thinks it’s Tony who is looking at you, but you know he is just listening to the person next to him. She is the one who hates you for being Bucky’s best friend, and now she will hate you more because Bucky kissed you. Sharon has had a crush on Bucky since you met her the first time, and he sometimes looks flirty around her, but he is always like that around friends. Otherwise, he would date Tony, Thor, or Steve as well.

The next morning, you wake up to the sun slowly brightening your room. You open your eyes and smile when the flashbacks of the last night come back into your mind. You and Bucky shared a lot more kisses, soft touches, and dances during the night.

You sit up slowly, stretching your limbs, and look at the clock. It’s just a bit after ten in the morning. After a few more minutes where you just look out of the window and enjoy the sun and the comfortable silence in your room, you stand up and walk through your bathroom.

With a few movements, you get out of your clothes and walk into the shower. The hot water runs along your body, and you feel your muscles relaxing under the warmth. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment just for you. In front of your eyes, you see Bucky kissing you the way he did last night. Your fingers are brushing softly over your lips, and for a moment, you feel like he is kissing you again. His hands are around your waist, and his body is pressing against yours.

But when you open your eyes, you just hear the sound of the water and your towel in front of you. No Bucky, right now. Just the thoughts making you smile again and the feeling in your stomach are the most wonderful you have ever felt until now. You are already excited to see him in a few minutes, but first you need to finish your shower and choose some comfortable clothes to wear.

With the biggest smile on your lips, you walk through the floor and into the shared kitchen.

“Someone looks really happy today,” Tony says, and you blush immediately.

Your eyes scan the room, so you can find Bucky and go to him. Talk to him about the last night and make sure you meant what you said. When you walk a few steps further into your room, you see Steve lying on the couch, holding his hand and groaning.

“I don’t know what happened last night. Tony, how can you manage to never have a headache?” he asks, and Tony laughs before he places his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

"Painkillers are really useful. It doesn't help to remember, but they help against the other effects after being drunk,” he says, and Steve nods. He doesn’t want to get up, so he just closes his eyes and tries to sleep a while longer.

You look around and see Bucky in front of the counter. Sharon stands next to him, and her hand rubs his back up and down. You roll your eyes, disgusted about the other girl, as you walk to them.

“Hey, Buck,” you say with a smile, and when the brown-haired man turns around, he smiles softly.

But in another way, as usual, he looks a bit sad, and instead of looking at you, he looks to the side.

“Hey,” he mumbles and takes his bowl with cereal.

Then he walks to the table, and Sharon follows him. You look at them both; maybe he has a hangover? You try to push the negative thoughts away and make yourself a bowl with your favorite cereals. You walk around the table and sit down in front of Bucky; he doesn’t look at you, and he doesn’t talk to you. He was just focused on his cereals and probably deep in his own thoughts.

“Buck?” You ask carefully, and he hums but still doesn’t look up from his bowl. “Can we talk? I mean just you and me?”

He nods in response and finishes his breakfast, then finally looks up to see you. But something is still different when he just loves to look into your eyes and adore the colors, but this time he looks at you like you’re someone else.

He waits until you finish your breakfast as well, and then he follows you through your room. Your best friend closes the door behind himself and looks at you.

“What’s up?” He asks with a cold voice, and you shiver immediately.

“Do you remember last night?” you ask, playing with your hands. You don’t want to look at him; you’re scared about the way he looks at you.

“No, but Sharon told me about it,” he tells you, and you nod softly.

For a moment, the two of you are quiet. You don’t know what to say, but the silence is uncomfortable as well. You shift from one foot to the other, your hands sweating, and you feel like you need to throw up.

“Why are you so cold?” you then ask and look at Bucky.

He clenches his jaw with his eyes staring at you, and the way he looks at you makes you even more uncomfortable. He never looked at you like that; the coldness almost showed hate in his eyes, and you can’t help but feel the tears burning in your eyes. He notices the tears in your eyes, and a sarcastic grin forms on his lips.

“Why are you crying now?” Bucky asks you loudly; you hiss and feel so small in front of him.

“You- Buck, yo-” You start to say something, but he interrupts you.

“Don’t call me ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’. You have no right to say that. You don’t deserve to say that,” he shouts, and your eyes widen.

“What do you want me to call you then?” you ask, trying to wipe the tears in your eyes away.

“Use my name. I have it for a reason,” he says, and you nod, not able to say anything.

You don’t know what happened to him. Last night he confessed his love to you, and now he acts like he hates you and has never even thought about loving you.

“Want to talk now or not? I have better things to do,” he says, rolling his eyes annoyed.

You feel a tear slowly falling down your cheek, not knowing the man in front of you anymore. He isn’t like your best friend; he isn’t like the one you fall in love with; he isn’t the one who kissed you yesterday; and he isn’t the Bucky, you know.

You shake your head. You want to talk; you really want to, but you can’t. At least not with the man in front of you. Was it all a lie? Was it all just fake? Or what happened that he is the way he is right now.

“Good,” he says, and he turns around to leave the room.

The moment he closes the door behind himself, you break down on the floor. You fall on your knees, the tears streaming down your cheeks, and you’re sobbing loudly. There is no feeling inside of you right now; you feel empty. You stare at the wall in front of you, his face in your mind, his smell, and the way he kissed you last night. You hear his words, like he is standing next to you and saying them to you. The ones of the night when he confesses his love to you and the ones he said a few minutes ago when he was looking at you with his cold, blue eyes.

“I love you; you’re the most adorable girl I know.”

“Don’t call me ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’.”

“I can’t sleep because I think of you; when you’re in a room with me, I can’t concentrate on something else, just on you.”

“Want to talk now or not? I have better things to do.”

It takes a while until you slowly calm down. You're curled on the floor, and the tears are still streaming down your cheeks. But your sobbing is quieter, and you slowly fall asleep on the floor. All the tears and the crying make you so sleepy that you don’t recognize Steve walking into your room and lifting you up to place you in your bed.

He sits next to you, his fingers stroking your hair softly out of your face, and he looks at you with a soft but sad smile. He saw Bucky walking out of the room, his gaze as cold as the whole morning, and even when he doesn’t know what happened at the party, he doesn’t want to leave you alone. But he also doesn’t want to interrupt you while you’re crying because he knows you would have to hide it, and he knows you need to let the feelings out of your body.

You don’t sleep well; nightmares interrupt your sleep every time, but you’re too tired to stay awake for a while. In every dream is Bucky; first he helps you, but in the next moment he shouts at you, laughs at you, and does everything you never thought he would do to you. You’re sweating and whimpering in your sleep, turning from one side to the other.

Steve tries to comfort you with his hand on your thigh, but it doesn’t work. With widened eyes, you wake up, starting to cry again for a few minutes before you fall asleep again. You don’t mind if someone sees you crying or not; you can’t escape Bucky, his coldness, not even in your dreams, and it robs you of all of the strength you have.

“Y/N?” Steve asks when you’re awake, but you turn around so you don’t have to face him.

You mumble a soft ‘mhm’. Steve sighs, his fingers drawing small circles on your thigh.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks, but you shake your head.

You just want to be alone right now. Steve nods and stands up, walking through the door, but before he leaves the room, he turns to you.

“If you need me, you can call me or just come to my room,” he offers.

“Thank you,” you whimper, and the tears are streaming down your face again.

You can’t stop thinking about Bucky; he is burned in your mind like something you need to be. Something you need to be happy, and yes, he is someone you need to be happy. Without him, it doesn’t feel the same; watching your favorite movie wouldn’t be as fun because there is someone missing who holds you when you cry out of joy because they are married. Playing board games wouldn’t be the same because the one freaking out because he doesn’t get what he wants isn't playing the board games with you. Eating your favorite snacks and ice cream wouldn’t be the same because the one man who always laughs about your snack and ice cream decisions wouldn’t laugh. The one cuddling up wouldn’t let you cuddle with him, and you would miss HIS warmth and HIS scent. It’s not just a man; it’s the ONE man; it’s Bucky.

Wrapped in your blanket, you sit against the headboard of your bed. Looking through the channels for something that could distract you. But you feel like Bucky is manipulating the television because every channel shows a movie you used to watch with Bucky.

Everything reminds you of him: every place, every movement. Every second reminds you of Bucky, the memories you both have, and the moments you shared. And now he treats you like you’re the worst thing he has ever seen, and there is no reason why he does it, right?

You don’t want to sit in your room, but you don’t want to see Bucky somewhere as well. But you feel hungry after some time, and even when you wish you didn’t have to stand up to get some food, you don’t want to make yourself feel worse just because of Bucky.

So you slowly get up; it’s already afternoon when you walk through your room. Before you reach the door, you see the pictures on your wall. He and you took so many pictures during trips or parties, some when he was joking and others when he tried to look mad. Even when he really looks like a pouting puppy, when he tries to look mad at you, you always laugh about his pouting face.

You open your door and immediately hear the voices of the others. But there are not a lot of them; just three of them are there and talk. Steve, Bucky, and Sharon. With quiet footsteps, you walk closer to the room. You look at the floor, hoping that no one will see you.

But when your feet meet the ground in the room, the gazes of the three of them are immediately on you. Steve smiles sadly when he sees you. You probably look like a wrack, with red eyes and tears all over your face, but you don’t mind. Sharon looks at you with a smile, and Bucky is as cold as before.

When you make your way to the counter, you hear Sharon flirting with Bucky, and you feel like you want to throw up. You hate her, especially since she is a jealous bitch when you’re with Bucky. And now he has him for himself - exactly the plan she had.

“Buck, look at me,” she says, and you look around to see what they do. That’s the moment you wish you wouldn’t be in the room right now. Sharon leans closer, and her lips meet Bucky’s softly. His arms are wrapped around her waist, and you see yourself in her. The moment you had last night, and now he kisses her, not the one he confessed his love to last night.

The tears forming in your eyes - they're burning. They slowly stream down your cheeks, but you don't make a noise; you just look at them until they break the kiss, and Sharon looks at you with a wide bitch smile again.

“You’re right!" you shout, and Bucky turns around to look at you as well.

With a confused gaze, the two men look at you, and you chuckle sarcastically.

“You don’t deserve me. You’re an idiot, and I would prefer to be killed by the Winter Soldier instead of being your best friend,” you shout, and you see the change in his gaze.

You don’t mean it, not really, but the anger inside of you lets you say things like that.

You see, you hurt him by saying that he has nightmares because of the Winter Soldier; he blames himself for that, and you were the one who was able to give him moments where he didn’t blame himself, but now that you mention the Winter Soldier in a way, you hurt him the most you can. And you’re sorry for that, but you hate him so much right now that you can’t stop yourself from telling him things like that.

“I feel like he would love more than you ever can,” you say, and you walk a few steps closer to him. “I hate you, in a way I never thought it would be possible,” you hiss and turn away to grab some food from the counter before you leave the room.

Bucky looks at you, and the moment those words leave your mouth, his small world breaks a bit more. The only person who loved him so much hates him now. But he deserves it, doesn’t he? And he can’t bring himself to walk to you and ask what he did because he is way too mad at you for a reason he doesn’t want to admit in front of you.

It's been a week now since you saw Sharon and Bucky kissing each other. The day he started to be an ass and the day you told him he didn’t deserve you. And you didn’t change your mind; he hasn't been nice to you since that day; he ignores you; he doesn’t even look at you. His arms are always around Sharon’s body, and his lips are on hers.

You don’t really care about yourself anymore; you’re mostly in your room, crying or just laying there and waiting until you finally fall asleep. Steve tries every day to get you out of bed and wants to plan your favorite trips, but every one of them reminds you of Bucky, and you prefer your warm and comforting bed.

Someone knocks at your door, and you hum in response before Steve opens the door.

“Want to eat something? I cooked, and you need to eat,” he says, but you shake your head and turn around so you don’t have to face him.

Steve sighs softly and walks closer to you. He sits next to you on your bed and runs his fingers along your side.

“Do you want to tell me what happened between you and Buck? He looks different as well since the party,” Steve says thoughtfully, and you slowly turn around to look at him.

Your eyes are red, and he can see the tears all over your cheeks. Steve lifts his hand and wipes the tears away, smiling softly at you. You slowly sit up, your back against the headboard of your bed, and you pull your knees against your chest, wrapping your arms around them and placing your head on your knees.

“I thought-“ you sob quietly. “He said he loved me, and then he suddenly was with Sharon,” you mumble, and you can’t stop the tears again.

“He told you he loved you? When? I mean, I know it, but when did he tell you?” Steve asks, and your eyes widen for a moment.

He knows that Bucky loves you? What happened to Bucky being the way he is when he really loves you? Why is he kissing Sharon when he could have you? He could have the one he really loves.

“At the party, he told me he loved me. He kissed me,” you mumble, and Steve’s jaw drops.

“He finally managed it?” he asks, and you nod.

“And the next day he was the idiot he is, kissing Sharon, and it looks like they are happy together,” you tell him, and he shakes his head.

“I need to talk to him,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You look at him while he leaves your room. He almost runs out of it, and you don’t know why, but you don’t mind. Steve wants to talk to Bucky, but it won’t change his feelings for Sharon. And maybe Bucky thought it was her when the two of you kissed. Maybe he thought it was her when he confessed his feelings.

Meanwhile, Steve rushes into Bucky’s room. He sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the television. He doesn’t want to see Sharon today; he misses you, even when it’s just looking at you or hearing you talk. But since you’re in your room and only outside when you’re sure no one else is outside, he hasn’t heard or seen you in days.

“Buck?” Steve asks softly, and Bucky turns his head to look at the brown-haired man. He looks more broken than ever before. Steve walks closer to Bucky and lets himself fall next to his best friend in bed. “Where is Sharon?” he asks, and Bucky shrugs.

“Don’t care,” he says, and he stares in front of him again.

“Pal, what happened that you’re the way you are with y/n?” Steve looks at Bucky and sees the small tear escaping the corner of his eye.

"Nothing; she doesn’t want me,” he answers, and Steve chuckles softly. Stubborn idiot, but still his best friend and the idiot in love with you.

“She told me you confessed your love for her. And the two of you kissed. When she told me, I remembered, and it was her; it wasn’t Sharon, pal,” Steve continues, and Bucky’s eyes widen before he looks at his best friend again.

“We did what? And Sharon, what?” he asks.

“You kissed. You and y/n. But Sharon was just standing next to Tony on the other side of the room and was staring at the two of you,” he repeats, telling Bucky what he remembers. Bucky shakes his head, thinking about the version of the party and then the version he heard.

That’s definitely not what he heard about the evening. That’s not even similar to the things someone told him about.

“No, that’s not true,” Bucky says thoughtfully. “But even when, don't you know anymore what she said? She hates me, Steve." Bucky mumbles, and he feels even worse when he thinks about you, the way he treats you, and the things you said to him. Even when he understands it now, he understands why you said those things.

“I need to talk to her,” Bucky mumbles, but then he shakes his head. “Do you think she would listen?” he asks and looks at Steve, who nods.

“She is in love with you. Even when you’re such an idiot,” Steve tells him, pushing his best friend up. “Talk to her, pal,” he says, and Bucky smiles softly before he walks through the door.

He isn’t sure what to say when he talks to you. Maybe you don’t want to listen; maybe you won’t understand. Or do you really hate him now? Do you want to see him? So many thoughts run through his mind while he walks along the floor, unsure what to do or say when you ignore him or if he messed up after all the things with Sharon.

Bucky reaches your door and knocks softly. He hears your softy ‘come in’ and he opens the door. Now it’s too late to turn around; he has to talk to you now. You look at him, and your gaze gets. immediately cold.

“James,” you say, and he shivers slightly.

He didn’t know something inside of him could break more, but when you called him ‘James’ with that cold voice, something inside of him broke more.

“Doll,” he mumbles, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t call me that; call your new fucktoy that,” you hiss, and he looks at the floor.

You’re mad; he has never seen you like that before, but he can’t blame you. You’re hurt, and he is the reason for that. He hurts you so badly, but he loves you so much more than he can ever tell you. He can’t and doesn't want to be without you when there is just a percent chance for him to be yours. He would do everything to be yours.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He hates when you’re so harsh and cold, but he understands it.

“What do you want here?” you ask, and he plays with his hands before he answers.

“I want to talk to you,” Bucky says quietly, and you chuckle sarcastically.

“I don’t want to talk to you, James,” you say, and you see him wiping some tears away.

“Please,” he begs, but you shake your head. “Can you please listen to me? Please?” he tries again, and he doesn’t want to go without telling you everything he feels, everything about the way he acted, especially why he acted like that. “Doll, please listen to me. Just this time, if you want me to go, then I will, and I will never talk to you again if you don’t want me to,” he says and sobs quietly.

You haven’t seen Bucky crying; sometimes he looked like he was about to cry, but he never cried. And now he stands in front of you, begging and crying for you to listen to him. And you want to listen, but the anger inside of you gets in control of you.

“You could have talked to me earlier. I fucking- I don’t care anymore,” you shout, and he flinches.

The strong super soldier looks like a small boy.

“Please, I love-“

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear all those lies anymore. Just shut up and go with those lies to your new girl,” you say, anger in your voice, and Bucky can’t stop the tears streaming down your cheeks.

He hurt you more than he thought he did. But he was so mad at you; he was mad about the things he heard. And now he is about to lose the most important person in his life. He loves you more than everything; he never loved someone as much as he loves you.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I really am. I love you,” he whispers, and you shake your head sarcastically, laughing.

“I saw that. You treated me like the worst person you know; that’s love for you?" you ask, and he immediately shakes his head.

“No, but I didn’t know about the things that happened during the party,” he says, and he walks a step closer, slowly, to make sure you’re oke with it.

You want to throw him out of your room, but you also want to know what happened and why he was the way he was. He wouldn’t beg and cry when it wasn't important to him. So you accept when he takes a seat at the edge of your bed and looks at you. His eyes are red, and you can see the traces of his tears on his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, still blaming himself for doing all this to you. Bucky wants to touch you; he wants to hug you; and he wishes you would tell him it’s oke. But he knows he needs to explain his behavior before he can get some of that; when you’re ready to do it, then.

“What happened that night?”

He is interested in knowing what happened, and you clear your throat before you think about it again. When he turned into an idiot, you tried to avoid all his touches, his words, and his kisses so you didn’t need to cry all the time. And now he wants to know the truth, and you want to tell him, but you don’t want to cry because of that.

“Thor had some Asgardian alcohol there, and it made you drunk. We danced a bit; you told me you loved me; you kissed me,” you tell him, and he nods.

“You didn’t flirt with someone else?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“No, why should I? I love you, and I was happy you felt the same, but then you acted completely different the next day,” you mumble and look at him.

Bucky is playing with his fingers; you see the way he suffers because of his metal arm, and you remember the things you said about the Winter Soldier, and he probably hates his metal arm even more now.

“Why did you do it the way you did, and why are you suddenly so nice again?” you ask, and his jaw clenches slightly. Not in an angry way, but more in a thoughtful clenching.

“The morning after the party, I had a bad hangover and didn’t remember much of that night. I know that I kissed someone, but I don’t know the person. Sharon came into the room, and she asked me how the party was, and I told her I didn't know because I had too much alcohol. She wrapped her arms around my waist, and when I asked her why she said I kissed her that night,” he tells you, and you nod, blaming yourself for being the same way to Bucky as he was to you, even though it’s not his fault.

“I told her I don’t love her because I love you. And she told me about your night with a guy I don’t know. Sharon said you were flirting with me, but you have someone else, and you were flirting with me so you can make jokes with your boy about me being so dumb and really think you could love me the way I love you,” he continues, and your jaw drops slightly.

“Bu- James, there is no one else. I love you, and when you changed into the idiot you were, I hated the thought of you touching Sharon and the way you kissed her. But when you love me, why did you kiss her?” you ask, and Bucky runs his fingers through his hair.

“I wanted a distraction,” he whispers quietly, ashamed of that.

For a moment, you both sit in silence, looking at each other. “Did you really mean it?” he asks, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"When you said those things about the Winter Soldier?” He asks, and you see his hands shaking softly. His anxiety gets worse when he thinks about your answer; maybe you could really mean it? Maybe you really think the Winter Soldier could love more than Bucky can?

“No, I was mad. I’m sorry, Buck,” you say, and he nods. You smile softly when he doesn’t tell you to stop calling him ‘Buck’. “I’m really sorry, but I didn’t see how much I would hurt you with that,” you add.

“I think I deserve it,” he replies, and you want to agree, but you also know it would make him feel worse.

He was an idiot, but now that he sits there, he begs and cries that you listen to him so he can excuse his behavior. He blames himself for so much; you don’t want him to blame himself for more.

“Buck?” you ask, and he hums in response. “Tell me the truth, please.”

You look into his eyes; the blue is as warm as the one you’re used to seeing when he is with you.

“I love you, doll. I never wanted to hurt you; I want to be yours. I want you to be mine,” he says, blushing slightly. You don’t know what to say. You want to tell him you feel the same, but at the same time, you’re scared he will go to Sharon when you’re not enough for him anymore. “I’m sorry, you had to listen. But thank you for listening,” he tells you and stands up to leave the room.

You reach for his metal arm, and he flinches when you touch it.

“Sorry,” you say, slightly shocked, and let go of his arm. Bucky turns around and smiles softly.

“Just didn’t think you would touch it.” His voice is so soft, exactly the way you love when he talks to you.

“Can you stay?” you ask and look down; maybe he would prefer to go to Sharon because you were really mean?

Bucky’s smile grows, and he lets himself fall down next to you and wraps his arms around your body, pulling you into his lap. His hands slide your back up and down, and he looks into your eyes like they are the most adorable things he has ever seen. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and you play with his soft hair.

He leans closer, his lips almost touching yours, when you stop him.

“Did you brush your teeth and clean your face after she kissed you?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, and Bucky can’t stop himself and bursts out laughing.

“Yes,” he whispers, and he places one of his hands on your neck to pull you closer. His lips touch yours softly, and you almost melt in his embrace. Bucky moves his lips against yours, and a small smile appears on his lips.

“I love you, James,” you mumble against his lips, and he rolls his eyes.

“Can you be serious for a moment, doll?” he asks, laughing, and you look like you need to think about it before you answer him.

“I don’t know what you mean, James,” you giggle.

“But I love you too, doll,” he chuckles, pressing his lips on yours again to make you shut up and feel you as close as possible in that moment. He feels complete and comfortable now, being with his girl, the one he loves more than everyone, the one who loved him even when he was the Winter Soldier.

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @km-ffluv | @kandis-mom | @lives-in-midgard | @bucky-barnes-lover | @felicitylemon | @sweater-bee | @identity2212 | @cjand10 | @bookishtheaterlover7 | @harleycao | @buckyalpine (I tag you here because I can’t find the post where you asked for angst oneshots)

#marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x yn #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky x yn #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female yn #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader

[noisynaia]

𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑺 𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮

summary: The good old 'oh no, there's only one bed' trope.

pairing: Joel Miller x afab!reader 

word count: 3.8k 

note: Explicit (18+). Vaginal fingering, unprotected P in V, creampie. No use of (y/n). Nightmares. This has not been beta nor proof read and English is not my native language.

“Can you cut it out?” You sigh at the man who is currently and stubbornly laying on the hard floor next to the bed.    

It had been raining heavily for the entire day, the downpour so heavy that you couldn’t see more than a foot or two in front of you. All three of you were soaked to the bone and freezing. Spirit had been very low in your little travel group. Ellie had not come with her usual jokes and Joel had been even grumpier than usual so stumbling upon the little cabin had been a real stroke of luck. There had even been a dresser with enough dry clothes for all three of you to change into. 

You had given Ellie the couch in the living room since that was with the fireplace, leaving the single bedroom for you and Joel. 

“Just get up here. There’s plenty of space for the both of us.” You continue, cursing him and his damn stubbornness. The bed is not huge, but it will fit two people finely. 

“I’m fine down here. Trust me, I’ve had worse.” He just grumbles.  

You sigh, peeking your head over the edge of the mattress to look down at him. “I know you have a bad back and I need you to be well rested and alert, okay.” He tilts his head to look at you. “We both do…” You add, using Ellie to guilt trip him is maybe a little low, but you know it’s going to work and it is not like what you’re saying isn’t true. 

“Fine.” He finally sighs, as he gets up from the dusty floor, his knees creaking slightly before laying down next to you, but he doesn't get under the cover, instead laying straight on his back on top of the comforter with his arms crossed over his chest and eyes staring straight up at the ceiling.        

You want to tell him to just relax and get under the covers, but you don’t want to push your luck, so you just settle for the small victory of getting him into the bed, and who knows as sad as it makes you, maybe he really finds sleeping next to you more uncomfortable than the floor. 

You try not to dwell on that possibility too much, ashamed of how much that would affect you, so you just get comfortable under the covers instead. Turning to lay on your side, facing away from him as you close your eyes, but sleep doesn’t come to you.    

“Can I ask you something?” You whisper into the silent room, somehow knowing that he hasn’t fallen asleep yet. 

“Sure.” 

“It will never get easier will it? Living in this world… I tell myself that it will, that it is going to hurt less with time but… I’m just kidding myself, aren’t I?”

He doesn’t answer for a long time and you start to think that he may have fallen asleep before he finally breaks the silence. “No, I don’t think it will ever get easier.” A short beat of silence before he continues. “But I guess we can hope.” 

You sigh at his words. You really do hope so. The two of you are quiet again and you think he might have fallen asleep when he finally speaks again.  

 “Thank you.” Joel whispers into the darkness.

“For what?” You turn your head slightly towards him.  

“For tolerating my bullshit I guess.” 

It is the last words exchanged between you before sleep finally creeps up on the both of you. 

—

You wake up only a few hours into the night by the feeling of Joel’s frantic movements. He is tossing and turning uneasily and uttering incomprehensible muttered words. You turn around to face him, barely capable of making him out in the darkness of the room.

“Joel” You whisper, propping yourself up on your elbow, making you hover over him slightly. 

You watch the distressed look on his face, his eyes shut tight and his brows furrowed. Whispers of some terror make it out of his mouth. Your hand is hovering over his arm, unsure if he would be okay with your touch. But his nightmare seemingly continues. You frown and gently place your hand over his arm, softly rubbing the spot with your thumb.

“Joel.” You speak softly. “Wake up.”

You can feel how his whole body is shaking. He finally opens his eyes, letting out a gasp. His eyes wide and unfocused, clearly terrified of whatever he’d dreamed about, before they lock with yours and his gaze relaxes a little. 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, his rapid breathing is slowly coming under control. 

“Don’t apologize.” You frown at him, your eyes are now better accustomed to the darkness and you can see his face more clearly. “I get them too.” You confess dropping your head back on the pillow.

“Do you need anything?” You ask, feeling him move slightly on the mattress.

“No.” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

Silence falls over you, the two of you just laying and listening to your own quiet heartbeats. 

“Why don’t you get under the covers?” You finally say, almost a little pleading.

And to your happy surprise he actually does. Joining you under the covers, even though he lays stiff as a board and way closer to the edge of the bed than he needs to. You can live with that, you are just happy that he at least can be a little more comfortable and warm. 

“Joel?”

“Yes?”

“You can talk to me, you know? If you ever need it”

A beat of silence. 

“Yeah… I know darling.” 

Darling. You think your heart skips a beat by the endearing name and you let out a sigh as you finally close your eyes again. “Goodnight Joel” 

“Goodnight.” 

—

You wake again in the early hours of the morning. It’s a slow ease into consciousness, a much gentler awakening than you normally get to have. Your eyes are still closed, and the only thing you currently perceive is the warm safe feeling of complete comfort, still half asleep, you haven’t registered what contributes to this feeling, how Joel is embracing you in his sleep. 

Comfortably wrapped in a blanket in a soft bed and feeling the heat of someone’s body against you is a luxury you haven't felt in a long time. The comforting feeling of soft human touch makes you melt into it, and crave it from the very marrow of your bones. You stir slightly, letting out a content sigh as you slowly get pulled out of your sleepy daze, and that is when you realize the position you are in.    

Your back is pressed up against Joel’s chest and his strong arm is wrapped around your waist. Your legs are entangled under the covers and his steady warm breath fans over the back of your neck. The two of you must have instinctively reached for each other in your sleep, the presence of a warm comforting body too irresistible, nuzzling you against himself in his sleep.

Your heart skips a beat at the gentle touch, feeling like you are going to cry from the overload of human touch. There is no way you’re gonna be able to part from his embrace without waking him, but maybe you should? Even though you really don’t want to. You feel slightly guilty as you lie and listen to his steady heartbeat

You want to be selfish for a little longer, savoring the warm comfort of Joel’s presence beside you, enjoying how it makes you feel. It feels too damn good after all the years of loneliness and fear. You can’t deny that you are feeling things for Joel. He is an attractive man, there is no doubt there, but there is more to it. The glimpses you have gotten of who he is behind the gruff facade, the man he must once have been, has made you yearn to get to know more of that side of him. The way he always makes sure you and Ellie are feeling safe. The way he over time has softened up a bit. How he sometimes will go along with Ellie’s shenanigans. How he will tell you that he will take the first night shift, but then never wake you so you get to sleep the whole night. You have scolded him for this numerous times, but he still does it whenever he senses that you are just a little more tired than usual. 

You try to ease out of his embrace without waking him, but it only results in him hugging you tighter, pressing you closer towards him as he lets out a dissatisfied grunt like his subconscious wants you close. And it is now, as you are being pressed tighter up against him that you feel it, the press of his hard cock against the curve of  your ass. You let out a little gasp, as a hot shiver travels from your abdomen down to your now throbbing cunt.

You know that it’s just a physical reaction to have a body this close, he didn’t even want to share the bed with you in the first place, but you had insisted on it. As much as you dread having to face him in this position, you really should wake him.   

“Joel.” You whisper, moving your hand over the arm he has around you, gently brushing your fingers over the warm skin, waiting for him to wake. He stirs a little against your touch, but he does not loosen his grip on you. You hold your breath, feeling your pulse throb in your ears as you wait for a reaction. You just hope this won’t make him go back to being as closed off with you as he was in the beginning. You take a deep breath to brace yourself before you turn around in his grip so the two of you are laying face to face. Your movement seems to finally have pulled him out of his sleep. His eyes start to blink slowly as he is pulled out of his slumber, he murmurs your name, voice rough and raspy from sleep and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

His eyes are finally opening to look into yours, the warm umber of his irises is so beautiful, you have never seen them this near. His face is so close. You can see every detail, every crease and he is so damn gorgeous. Your mouth is so close to his, it would be so easy��to just lean in and connect your lips in a kiss. You feel Joel’s body stiffening as he realizes the position the two of you are in, and you are scared that he will bolt out of the bed and leave you cold and alone, but he doesn���t. The two of  you are simply laying in silence for a long moment, looking at each other in the dim room, both of you engulfed by the other, but you finally collect enough composure to break the silence between you.

“Good morning.” You whisper into the quiet bedroom. 

“Morning.” His voice is so deep and still rough from sleep. It makes your stomach do a flip. Maybe it is just wishful thinking but you swear that his eyes swift down to your lips for a second. Maybe it’s just time to be brave? You reach your hand up toward his cheek, letting your palm hover about half an inch from his skin. You want him to decide for himself if he is comfortable with your touch. Fortunately, after only a short moment of hesitation, he leans into your hand, exhaling as your palm cups his cheek. You kind of expect him to pull away any minute, but he doesn’t. 

“I haven’t slept this well in a long time.” You confess.  

“Me neither.” You have never heard his voice this soft before and that is when it dawns on you. This is Joel Miller. Not the man that has had to survive in a world with no hope, or the man that has lost everything that made him whole. Right now you are looking into the eyes of the man he once must have been. And maybe right now you’re the woman you were meant to be, the woman you would have been if your future hadn’t been torn away from you by the collapse of the world. There is something magnetic about it. Like the two of you are being pulled together by an invisible force, drawn together in the early morning bliss, both of you learning into earth other. Your lips brush, a ghost of a touch. He shivers but he is  still not pulling away. 

“Can I?” He whispers, his soft breath fanning over your lips. 

“Please.” You manage to croak out, your entire body buzzing with anticipation.  

It is all he needs to hear before he crashes into you, his chapped lips colliding with yours. It has been too long since you have felt the firm pressure of a man’s mouth on yours. You kiss until your lungs start to burn, and you have to pull away to catch your breath. His hand moves down to the hem of your shirt, his fingers ghosting over the warm skin beneath it.    

“Is this okay?” He asks, sounding a little unsure. 

“Yes, Joel.” You assure him. “Kiss me.” You add and he does, sliding his hand under the cotton of your shirt palming the soft skin of your side. You moan into his mouth as his tongue meets yours. You kiss until you no longer know where he starts and you end and you are almost convinced that the two of you have melded into one being.  

“You’re driving me crazy.” He pants out as he finally breaks the kiss. All you can manage is to whimper in response as he moves his lips to your throat, licking and kissing a trail to the side of your neck. His hand slowly slides down from your side to the hem of your pants. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He murmurs into the skin just below your ear, before sitting up just slightly to look into your eyes. 

“No.” You shake your head slightly. “Please don’t stop, Joel.” 

You roll your hips a little, grinding against his strong thigh, needing him to understand how badly you want this. Something flickers in his eyes and he lets out a filthy guttural groan, flipping you over so you're laying under him.    

Your entire body is aflame by his touch, a feral urge for more. More skin, more contact. So you move onto his shirt. The material slightly withered and moth-eaten from the years of being tucked away in a drawer. You pull it off him, revealing his broad upper body. You pause, captivated by the look of him hovering over you. The scars across his skin, the sparse hairs trailing down from his navel to his pants.    

You wonder if he shaking because he’s cold or if he’s really just that eager for your touch. But it doesn’t really matter, either way, you’ll warm him up.

He slides his calloused fingers over the sensitive skin of your thighs, hooking them in the waistband of your panties, looking into your eyes. You nod at him, mouthing a ‘please’, spreading your legs a bit further. It is all he needs, an expression of filthy desire flickers over his face as he pulls your underwear down. Letting out a gasp as your soaked pussy gets exposed in front of him. His fingers slide along the insides of your wet lips. 

“Shit, you’re so wet. All this just for me?” He almost coo.

“Yeah. All for you, Joel.” 

“Wanna feel you come on my fingers.”   

“Fuck, want that too.” You whimper.                

He gives you a smile, dipping his head down to your shoulder, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck before kissing the soft skin under your ear. He makes sure to coat his fingers in your wetness before he begins to tease your clit. You let out a little gasp as he starts to draw slow light circles, but it doesn’t take long for him to pick up his pace and add a bit of pressure.

He teases your entrance, making sure to coat his fingers in your slickless before he slips one of his thick fingers into you. Another is soon added and you sigh at the sensation. He slowly pumps into you at first, giving you time to adjust to his digits, but he is soon picking up the pace.  

“That’s right darling.” He mutters against your neck. “Taking my fingers so well.”

He is going fast now, using his middle and index finger to fuck you while the ruff pad of his thumb is pressing on your clit and you can’t help but let out a few pathetic whines. He is hitting a perfect spot, so deep inside of you, and you feel your orgasm approaching, finally falling over the edge when he curls his fingers. 

“That’s right, just like that.” Joel groans as you clench around his fingers, slowing his pace slightly but still  pumping you through your orgasm in a steady rhythm. “Just like that, darling, doing so well.”

He lets you ride out your climax on his fingers until he finally pulls out of you, popping them into his mouth, sucking off your juices with a pleasant moan.    

“Fuck, Joel.” You pant out as you finally come down from your amazing high. 

“Good?” He asks, a sly smile on his lips. 

“Really good.” You ensure him, cupping his cheek with a gentle hand. “Want to make you feel good too.” You whisper, looking deeply into his eyes.

“Fuck, darling. I want to feel you so bad.” He confesses.  

“Want that too. Fuck, want that so bad” You pant, letting your thumb slide over his cheek as you admire his handsome face. And you do want him, but more than that, you need him.

He lifts himself from you to strip off his pants and underwear. Your eyes widen at the view of him. His hard cock springs free, throbbing and thick, laying heavy in his palm as he takes himself in his hand. It still looks huge, even in his big hand, so you can’t even imagine how enormous it will look in your smaller one. He pumps himself a few times before leaning down over you again. He guides his cock to your entrance, looking at you for permission, which you give with an eager nod, before slowly pushing inside you, stretching your pussy to its limits the deeper he goes. You feel so full, like he is splitting you open with his thick girth. You whimper as you take more and more of his cock until he is all the way in. 

“Fuck darling, you’re so warm, so fucking tight around me.” He groans before leaving a firm kiss on your lips. The two of you are laying like this for a little while, letting you adjust to his size until you can’t take it anymore. 

“Move.” Your voice is low and rasped. “Please.”   

With that, he lifts your legs, making you cross them around his lower torso as he pulls out of you, achingly slow until only the head of his cock is still inside of you before inserting all of it again in one fluid motion. You let out a gasp of pleasure. 

He starts out with a slow rhythmical pace. He is giving you sweet praise at first, then progressively dirtier, more lustful comments as he loses himself more and more, his thrusts getting faster and more desperate. He lets out a throaty groan as your hands grab his hair. The way he is now pounding his cock into you, deep and purposefully, makes you cry out in pleasure, your ears filling with his growls and moans. 

“Feeling so so good…” He says his eyes clenched tightly shut as he keeps thrusting into you with a savage speed. “I knew you would feel good, but damn.” He groans through gritted teeth. Joel is now moving with an urgency that has you seeing stars and you let out a cry of pleasure. 

“Shhh.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips to quiet you.  Ellie is, unlike you and Joel, a deep sleeper, but you would both be mortified if she heard the two of you, not wanting to traumatize the poor girl. 

“You are taking me so well.” He encourages. “So fucking good.” 

Your arms are desperately clinging to his back. His balls are hitting your skin and his cock is pounding into your soaked pussy, making a filthy squelching noise hit your ears. 

The pressure is beginning to build up in your lower stomach, the feeling is making your head go dizzy. He is bringing you closer and closer with every strong thrust of his cock.

“I-fuck… I'm close.” You babble. 

The knot in your stomach tightens and tightens until it all explodes inside you. Your walls clench down around him, sucking him in. You desperately cling to him as your climax washes over you, hands on his neck as you guide his mouth down to yours, you need him to kiss you through this. Your breasts are being squeezed against his chest, the feeling of his skin against your sensitive nipples makes you moan into his mouth.  

You whine out as you feel the warmth of his release filling you up. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” He detaches from your mouth. The panic from cumming inside you is clear on his face. He pulls out, some of his load landing on your stomach, but most of it still inside of you, the sudden empty feeling makes you let out a little whine. 

“Shit, I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have—” 

You know that he is right, he really shouldn’t have done it, but you can’t get mad at him you had been just as caught up in the feeling of him as he had been in you. You finished your cycle only a couple of days ago so you should hopefully be okay. 

You cup his cheek, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “I think we should be okay, just don’t make a habit of it.” You grin at him. 

He visibly relaxes at your words “I’ll make sure to pull out next time.” He assures you and your stomach flutters. Next time. You smile at his words.   

“How do you feel?” He asks. 

“Good.” You laugh lightly, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I liked seeing this side of you.”

He sighs as he pulls you close. His chest vibrates against you as he speaks. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?” 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller/reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller one shot #joel miller angst

[norrisleclercf1]

I saw those pictures of Lando being all smiley while on a gurney at the hospital. I guess some fans were saying he looks high off pain killers lol. Wondering if you could write something where he falls for the nurse or doctor that was taking care of him at the hospital. I love your writing btw! You’re one of my favorite F1 accounts.

A/N: Um yes this one is for my medical girlies

"You're pretty," The boy or man giggles in front of you as the medics wheel him through the hospital halls. "Thank you, but really, you should answer my question. Name?" You repeat again trying to get his A&O down properly.

"Lando Norris, if you want that can be your name too." He giggles again and you just smile politely, used to people flirting with you or making passes. But the slightly older man beside your patient groans. "Lando, stop." He pats the boy's shoulder and mouths I'm sorry.

"Mr. Norris, do you know where you are?" "Vegasssss babbyyyy!" You bite down your lip hard trying to resist the urge to laugh. "And the date or time?" You ask. "It's November the 19th, just had my 24th birthday." He giggles and reaches out for you, but his companion slaps his hand down.

"Jesus, Lando. Sorry, they have him some pain meds for the crash." "The crash? Oh, right sorry you're one of the Formula 1 drivers." You didn't pay much mind to the news, only the increased traffic and the fuss everyone was making about this sport.

"Yeah, he drives for Mclaren. I swear he normally isn't like this. He's goofy sure, but it's the pain meds." You nod, understanding that the lack of sleep along with the crash and the meds has messed him up in some way. "It's okay, he's just here mainly for observation and to make sure his injuries aren't worse." You smile and the guy relaxes as Lando giggles.

"Lando, smile." Lando looks up, hair wild, eyes sunken and smiles this smile that has you staring for a second and look away blushing. Shaking your head you roll him into a private room, as his companion, named Jon asked you. He said some fans get a little, but you waved him off saying you've dealt with some famous people before, it is Vegas.

Smiling you were left in charge of Lando and making sure he didn't fall asleep. Jon was walking in and out, making phone calls and updating the team in his condition. "Any pain?" Lando groans, adjusting himself as the pain meds wore off, a blanket covering his naked chest.

His fireproof shirt, you learned the name was a casualty in making sure he didn't break any bones. "Just achy, um hey," You look up and try to control the blush as he did have pretty eyes. "Sorry about earlier." You smile softly and fix teh blanket tucking it in. "It's okay, it happens." You wave him off and mark his vital signs.

"I'm sure, you're very pretty." You stop writing and look up, his face was serious with a faint smile. "Hey good new, the Doc says we can go." Jon steps into the room and you two break eye contact smiling as you finish up your document.

"It was nice meeting you Mr. Norris, Jon." You leave the room heading to the nurses station and making your rounds on your other patients. "Oh, hey um," You turn seeing Lando as he tries to find your name. "Y/n," You fill in and he laughs, softly smiling. Wearing a much to large jacket and the rest of his race suit hanging off his waist.

"I wanted to ask you, if you'd like to go on a date?" You stop, and see your coworkers giggle and make kissy faces. "Oh, sorry I don't date patients." Lando just smiles and shrugs his shoulders. "Good thing I'm no longer a patient. This is my number. I hope you call." Lando smiles and you.

Watching him walk out of the hospital you smile seeing his scribble and put it in your pocket.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #f1 fluff #lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris blurb #lando norris oneshot #lando norris scenarios #lando norris f1

[asterias-record-shop]

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— come inside

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

Ethan inhaled deeply when he saw you open the door, dressed in nothing but a slightly see through robe.

“Ethan! You’re finally here, I was so worried. I made tea, come inside, please,” you grabbed his hand, pulling him into your apartment. “I-I don’t have a spare room and my couch isn’t very comfortable, do you mind sleeping with me? I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Ethan nodded immediately, quickly following you in as you pulled out a chair. “Please, sit down. Sit down, I made some vanilla chamomile tea! Do you like tea? It’s super sweet and hot, so if you like tea it’ll help with your throat.”

“I-I’ll have some tea,” he covers his lap with a thin napkin that did nothing to help hide his growing bulge. “Please.”

“Would you like black or red?”

“Bl-Black.”

You set down a black mug in front of him, a red in front of your own position as you giggle and start pouring tea from a small kettle. “I like the red mug better.”

He smiled as he slowly takes the mug, watching as you pause from sipping while he takes a loud gulp. “It’s r-really good.”

“You know, that mug has always been too small for other people,” you smiled. “I guess it’s perfect for you.”

He blushed madly, smiling as you giggle and put your feet into his lap. It makes him flinch, but you missed it as you take another long sip.

“Y-Y/N, I have something to tell you,” his voice was shaky as you paused, raising a brow. “I-I…”

“You’re hard?” You tilt your head, flicking off the napkin with your feet. “It’s hard to not notice, Ethan.”

He gasps as your foot starts to rub him through his jeans, whimpering as you added more pressure. “Y-Y/N, please, fuck, please.”

“Please what?” You stand, slowly dropping to your knees in front of him. “Depending on the size of your dick, I might fuck you.”

He nodded, head bobbing up and down as you slowly tap at his bulge. He whimpered, your brow raising. “Well, are you going to take off your pants or what?”

“Yes! Yes, I will,” he slips them off quickly, frantically as you hummed and rubbed at his tip, flicking it to watch his jaw clench and his cock bob. “A-Am I good enough?”

You giggled, licking his tip. “Yeah, you are.”

He couldn’t help himself, not when your mouth was hot on his cock and your chin was covered in dripping cum and saliva. Your eyes were rolled back as you deep throated him, groaning and moaning making vibrations travel up his cock while he was a moaning mess under you.

He could barely breathe, the woman of his dreams was sucking his cock like a lollipop, her hands pumping and rubbing every way that made his mind hazy. His hips buck, whimpers falling from his mouth as you pulled away for a quick breath, continuing to pump him. “Only been doing this for a few minutes and you’re already about to cum? You better bounce back quick, Landry.”

He nods immediately, whimpering. “I will, I will I promise. Please, please please please, I want to cum, can I cum?”

You hummed as you swirled your tongue around his tip, pulling him balls deep into your mouth to squeeze them in your hands, a broken scream leaving his lips as you sucked as hard as you could, eyes rolling back as he came. It didn’t stop for a while, his eyes fluttering closed as he lets out loud moans, hips bucking. You kept him in your mouth until he finished, the amount of cum spurting down your throat making you choke.

You inhaled deeply as you pulled away, wiping the cum that dribbled down your chin as he pants, whimpering as you continued to pump his softened cock. It doesn’t take him long to get hard again, your lips softly pressing against his tip.

“You gonna be a good boy and fuck me?”

He nodded his head immediately, desperately. “Yes, yes ma’am I will.”

You honestly couldn’t believe it was Ethan’s first time. He was restless, whiny and desperate as he begged for you to let him fuck you again, your cunt spent and full of his cum. He was on bad marks, cumming inside of you without permission the second time.

“No! No, please, I’ll be good,” he whines as you scoop the cum out of your pussy, pushing it into your mouth. “Please, I promise.”

You stared at his cock, bobbing over your pussy as he bucked his hips uncontrollably. “Will you be good?”

“Yes! Yes I’ll be good, I promise!” He yelled, whining as he pushed his tip against your clit to watch your hips buck. “I’ll make you feel so good, Y/N, I promise.”

You hummed as you spread your legs once again, watching as he slots himself between them and pumps his cock right above your clit. “How long have you thought about fucking me, Landry?”

“S-Since I saw you,” he whimpers, whining as he bucks his hips and begins to push into your cunt. It wasn’t like you weren’t ready, but it was as though he was harder than he had ever been before, and it made your pussy stretch wider than he had ever thought. His eyes rolled back, mouth lulling open with loud moans as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Wanted to fuck you over the desks when I saw you in that pink skirt and white tank top, wanted to fill your pretty cunt with so much cum you could taste it.”

The thought made your eyes roll back, nails scratching down his chest with a loud whine. You never thought a virgin like Ethan Landry would be so filthy, just like you, with a breeding kink you needed almost to survive.

“Ethan! No, don’t stop, don’t stop!” You begged for the first time that night, whining loudly as you pulled him closer with your legs, not letting him pull out to pump himself. It wasn’t like he needed to, your pussy was tight enough, but he needed to slow down just a bit so he wouldn’t go painting you insides white like he wanted to.

“Y/N, please! Please, I need to cum inside of you, please! I promise, I’ll be a good fuck toy for you, I’ll pump you full of cum as much as you want, I’ll fuck you anywhere and everywhere and have it leaking out of your skirt and through your pretty fucking panties- holy shit!” He screams out as you pulled him down, kissing him for the first time that night.

He whined against your lips, tongue pushing into your mouth, desperate to taste you as your nails dragged along his back. “You’ll be a good pussy slut for me? Someone I can fuck whenever I want? Hm?”

He nodded desperately, whining. “Yes! Yes, I’ll always be hard for you, I’ll fuck you wherever you want!”

You giggle, holding back a loud moan as you dig your nails into his back. “Cum inside, Ethan, please. Please, and I’ll make sure the rest of the night is one you’ll never forget.”

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