#so this is more personal than things i normally write | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

changbunnies · 2 days

Text

Coy, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Inexperienced!Bang Chan x Experienced Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: fluff and smut with a lil plot :)

♡ Word Count: 7.7k

♡ Summary: What occurs when joking about sex with your roommate leads to a shocking discovery about his lack of experience in the bedroom.

♡ Smut Warnings: not intended to have overt dom/sub dynamics but you can infer vibes if you want lol, chan is rlly insecure but reader is here to help!!, nipple play, handjob, oral (m rec), fingering (f rec), protected piv

♡ Notes: hey yall, i wanted to write something small and fun before my next big fic so here we are :’) honestly i was torn between writing this for chan or bin and ended up choosing chan but lmk if you'd want to see a fic like this for binnie! i went super perfectionist mode and rewrote this several times…. like at least 7 fsdgdsfg but i don't want it in my drafts anymore !! just take it !!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

All you said was a lighthearted joke- something said in jest to make your roommate-turned-best friend’s face flush red and burn all the way to the tips of his ears.

That was always the reaction Chan had when you brought up having had sex, you noticed; cheeks flushed red, eyes darting away from yours to look anywhere else, thumbs nervously twiddling where his hands rested in his lap. You assumed he had plenty of experience, but was more of a “heat of the moment” kind of guy- where you imagined he’d be confident and sure of himself with his partner, but talking about sex outside of the moment turned him into a shy, stuttering mess.

And it’s not that you purposely went out of your way to imagine what Chan was like during sex, but your mind would often wander there on its own. He was attractive, to put it lightly- devoted to fine-tuning his muscles with diligently followed routines and strictly maintained effort. You were witness to his toned body on more than one occasion, as he often wandered around the apartment shirtless while having just woken up or doing his laundry.

It was a treat for the eyes for sure, but you were respectful. You never drooled over him- at least not anywhere but in the privacy of your bedroom. But it wasn’t just his body that you adored; he had the absolute cutest smile you’d ever seen, eyes crinkling into the prettiest crescent moons as dimples showed on his cheeks. You loved his fluffy, natural hair, and the deep brown color of his eyes, and the way warmth radiated off him when he pulled you into a hug.

So maybe you have a crush on him- but you aren’t going to act on it. You live together in a careful balance, in which you are close enough to him to become good friends while also hiding your attraction to him to maintain the peace. God forbid he doesn't return your attraction, or he does and down the line it makes things complicated. The last thing you need is to scramble for a new place to live after things between you don’t work out- you’d never be able to afford it, and you’ll gladly swallow your feelings for home security.

But just because you couldn’t have sex with Chan, didn’t mean you couldn’t talk about it with him.

Chan is shy- that much you knew for certain. And sex, while a natural and fun part of life, is something that some people are embarrassed to be open about despite the normality. That's what you saw Chan as; a shy, easily embarrassed person. You thought it was so cute, and just a teensy bit funny; and with all that in mind, it was fun to tease him- to watch his eyes widen in surprise before he let out an awkward cough and looked away, hoping to hide the red forming on his cheeks.

So today, after bringing up how your last date ended, and seeing how brightly Chan’s face burned when you talked about the way they touched you, you couldn’t help but joke around with him. “Oh, c’mon Channie, don’t be coy. I know you’re drowning in pussy when I’m not here,” you teased him with a smirk. Considering your crush on him, you didn’t like to think about it too hard, but you did believe it- surely he brings people back to the apartment while you’re out on your dates.

“O-Oh, no, I’m not- I don’t-” he started to stutter out, and you giggled, because really, how could you believe anything else? He’s perfect- intelligent, funny, talented, as adorable as he is devastatingly hot; obviously he can get whoever he wants, and you believe he does- because Chan is certainly a fucking catch. But still, he continues to stammer and shake his head, blush spreading down his neck as he refutes your statement.

He isn’t a virgin, you have that much right; but he also isn’t some smooth operator hitting hookups with the classic “my roommate isn’t home 👀” text like you seem to think. He doesn’t even know why you think he’s secretly so cool- he’s only ever shown you the most embarrassing version of himself, much to his own chagrin. He’d like to be the person you think he is, but that’s simply not reality.

And as your giggling comes to a stop, and you really look at Chan and take in his expression, you can tell- he's being serious. "Oh," you blink in surprise, smacked with the realization that all your assumptions about him may have been entirely off base.

You frown, wondering if you've actually been making him uncomfortable this entire time. It was always meant to be in good fun, as you thought his bashful reactions were incredibly cute and endearing; but now you realize the truth. Chan isn’t shy about sex because he’s a private person- he’s shy about sex because he isn't having any.

Suddenly, you feel really embarrassed about all the times you talked about yourself; maybe it's karma for all the times you've subtly teased him. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable or crossed a line or anything, I didn't mean to, really-" You start to apologize, but Chan interjects, quickly shaking his head.

"N-No, no, you're fine! I just, uh-" he nervously stumbles on his words again, not even sure what he’s doing at this point. He doesn't even know why he refuted your joke so strongly- sure, it wasn’t true, but wouldn’t it be better for him if you believed it?

Chan likes you- like, really likes you; but he can't imagine someone as experienced and confident as you will go for a guy like him. Because while he isn't a virgin, his past experiences have been woefully cringe-inducing to even recall.

He was always so eager and clumsy, with trembling hands and face so red he was sure he looked like a tomato. He was embarrassingly sensitive, every touch feeling so overwhelmingly good that he could hardly contain all the noises threatening to leave his throat. He came so fast that he didn’t even know what to do with himself when it was all said and done, hiding his face beneath his arm while he muttered a string of low apologies.

And subjecting you to all of that? No thanks, falling off the face of the earth would be more preferable. You're the most sex positive person he's ever met, and you won’t make fun of him, he logically knows, but there’s part of him that fears it anyways. On top of that, apparently you had an extremely positive perception of his skills, and now he's ruined it.

While he's unsure what about him led you to believe he's desirable enough to have people biting at the chance to be with him, that impression, for better or worse, will never come back. So should he just be honest? Admit that he's actually really down bad for you but nowhere near confident enough to think he's enough for you?

That sounds like a bad idea. Terrible, even. Chan swallows as he looks at you, doing his best to ignore the way anxiety builds from deep in his gut. You're looking at him so patiently, caringly, that it makes his heart squeeze in his chest. Fuck it- he doesn't have to be completely honest and bear his heart on his sleeve, but he can trust you enough to admit a little bit of what he feels, right? If he can't confide in you then who else can he confide in?

"I just, uhm, I'm not very confident, I guess," he says after a careful breath, nervously scratching at the back of his neck as he darts his eyes away, "like.. in myself, or.. my skills, you know. So I just, uh.. don't have sex." You don't respond right away, simply blinking as you process the information, and regret starts to flood over the anxiety as Chan begins to overthink everything he’s admitted to you.

Really, you’re just shocked; Chan is sexy- like, really sexy. So the revelation that he isn’t confident in himself enough to enjoy sex to its fullest extent is baffling. He has such effortless charisma in other aspects of his life despite his shy nature, and you always assumed it carried over into his sex life; where his bashful looks and timid grins would melt away into someone confident and assured once the moment kicked off.

“I could help you,” you finally offer once the initial surprise wears off, and instantly his brain is short circuiting, not even realizing that his astounded “huh?” left him audibly. You didn't really plan on confessing your attraction to Chan this way, if ever, but well.. here you are.

"It's just- you're like, the hottest person I know. Seriously. And I don't care if you lack experience, I'd have sex with you regardless," you explain, a rare blush of your own beginning to heat your face, "So, yeah, you know- if you want me like I want you, then.." You start to trail off, but you think he gets what you were intending to say.

It's a bit embarrassing to be blushing yourself considering all the casual sex you have, but it's not your fault- Chan is the only person you've caught feelings for in years, so you can't help but blush a little. Chan, meanwhile, is still stunned; you're attracted to him? You want to have sex with him? Really?

On one hand, it's exciting- you want him, he wants you, and you don't care that he's inexperienced. But still, on the other hand.. With all the experience you have, don’t you want to sleep with someone who matches your energy? He can't imagine that you'd enjoy watching him fumble his way through your time together, or that he’d bring you any pleasure with his lackluster skills.

And what would your relationship be afterwards? Just friends and roommates who happened to fuck once, or something more? Will the mutual attraction die off the moment you realize his insecurities are way more than you signed on for?

“You don’t have to answer right now,” you assure him, offering all the time he may need to think about your proposition. Maybe it won’t be the most casual of your experiences considering your massive crush on him, but how could you pass up the chance to help him? Especially when helping means having sex with the guy of your dreams- because really, that’s what Chan is.

He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, swallows the lump in his throat, and takes a breath- because despite all his fears, he really likes you, and of course he wants to fuck you. Chan always figured he’d never have a chance with you unless you experienced a huge lapse in judgment; and maybe this is one and done, maybe it doesn't mean as much for you as it does for him, but he’ll still take that chance, insecurities be damned; he’d be a fool not to.

“I want to,” he tells you, soft and timid, but certain. You smile, equally as soft, as you inch closer to him on the sofa. “Can I kiss you?” you ask him, giggling when he quickly nods. It’s cute- equally as cute as the small, involuntary noise he makes from the back of his throat when your lips touch his. You start slow, pressing long, lingering kisses to his plush lips- as soft as you always imagined.

His breath hitches when you crawl onto his lap, pulling away to look at you with widened eyes. “Too much?” you ask, ready to pull yourself off of him but he quickly shakes his head. “You’re just-” he pauses, licks his lips as his face flushes a deeper pink, but continues “..so pretty. Really pretty. Can't believe this is really happening."

It feels a bit silly being so shy to tell you how pretty you are to him when you’ve been kissing him and are quite literally sitting on top of his dick, but he can’t help the way you make him feel. It’s a simple compliment too, one that normally wouldn’t affect you very much, but makes your heart pick up ever so slightly in speed regardless; you suppose because Chan is the one saying it.

You can tell he doesn’t know what to do with his hands when you kiss him again, keeping them clenched and firmly stuck to his side. You take them in your hands, guiding them to your body and resting them on your hips. “Touch me, Channie,” you breathe against his lips, “anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere..?” he questions with a shaky exhale, hands trembling where they rest on your body. “Mhm, want to feel you,” you tell him sweetly, and God, he already feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest before he’s even really begun. But he listens, hands carefully traveling up and down your body as you lean back in to continue kissing him.

You let your own hands wander as well- over his arms, across his chest, down the toned abs you can distinctly feel even beneath his sweater. You lick his bottom lip, feeling his body shiver beneath the tips of your fingers as he opens his mouth for you, letting your tongue inside.

He brings his hands to your chest, palming your breasts before he carefully squeezes them. You bring one of your hands to hover over his, encouraging him to continue by squeezing your hand atop his. He’s only touching you over your clothes, but he already feels impossibly dizzy from the excitement- he can’t even focus on how pathetic that would normally make him feel either, because your tongue in his mouth fogs his brain.

The next time you pull away, it’s to grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head so swiftly that Chan barely even has time to process what he’s about to see. He sucks in a breath as he looks at your tits; it doesn’t even matter that they’re still contained by a bra- it’s still more than enough to send him reeling. Pretty, pretty, pretty, is all he can think, his mind unable to conjure a thought any more complex than simple words.

You move your hands behind your back, ready to unhook your bra and expose yourself to him entirely, but he briefly stops you. “Can I- Can I try..?” he asks, clearly nervous but eager to try and prove himself in whatever way you’ll let him. “Course, Channie,” you smile at him as you let your arms fall back to your side, “go ahead.” You lean closer to him, bringing your hands to his shoulders as he brings his own to your back.

You press kisses to his jaw as you wait for him to act, eventually trailing down to his neck. It makes him gasp and bite his lip, the skin of his neck evidently more sensitive than he ever even realized. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying his best not to get too distracted by the feeling of your lips on the sensitive spots of his neck before he continues.

His fingers fumble with the hooks of your bra, his trembling hands causing his grip to slip more than once. It’s embarrassing how badly he’s failing at this simple task, but you pay no mind to it, continuing to kiss him as he takes his time to figure it out. You caress his arms, pulling away to reassure him when his shaking fingers mess up for the third time.

“Relax, baby, you’ve got it,” you tell him, the affectionate term unintentionally slipping out- but Chan seems to welcome it, offering you a soft smile and nod as he timidly tries again. He lets out the breath he was unconsciously holding when he finally succeeds, watching attentively as you bring your hands to the now loose straps, sliding them down your arms.

You toss your bra aside when your arms are freed from the straps, and Chan can’t help but stare at your now bare chest. He can count on a single hand the amount of tits he’s seen, so his thoughts may be a bit biased in your favor, but he firmly believes yours are the prettiest he’s ever looked at. Chewing on his bottom lip, he looks to you for permission to touch them again, which you easily grant him.

The soft noise you let out when his thumbs brush over your nipples both surprises him and makes his cock throb; he can still hardly even believe you’re really letting him touch you. “Is that good?” he asks as he does it again, intoxicated by the way you whimper and squirm. “Mhm, feels good. Feels better when they’re wet, though,” you tell him, watching as the gears turn in his brain.

He licks his lips and leans down, bringing his face to your chest. He sticks out his tongue, slowly swiping it against one of your hardened nipples, eyes glued to your face as he does. “This what you want?” he asks, repeating the action when you gasp and nod. You thread your fingers through his hair, another whimper leaving you as he wraps his lips around your nipple and swirls his tongue around it.

You reach for his other hand and bring his fingers to your mouth, licking and coating them in your saliva. He whines at the feeling of your tongue sliding against his fingers, his imagination running wild with images of what it’d feel like on different parts of his body. Once satisfied with the wetness of his fingers, you take them from your mouth and bring them back down to the nipple currently not in his mouth. “Use them to touch me, please-”

Chan wastes no time in doing what you ask, a soft whine escaping him when you gently tug on his hair. His cock is painfully hard and straining against his jeans that are now uncomfortably tight around him. You can feel it pressing against your ass, his eyes fluttering shut when his treatment of your nipples cause you to squirm and rub against his erection. The friction is overwhelming, your noises are intoxicating, the combination makes him dizzy with need for more.

More of your touch on his skin, more of your pretty whimpers in his ear, more of anything and everything you’re willing to give him, he wants it all. Soon you’re reaching for the hem of Chan’s sweater, and he separates from you, allowing you to pull it up and over his head, discarding it to the floor with the rest of your clothing. You admire him, trace his pecs and his abs with your fingers, smiling at him sweetly when he shivers beneath your touch.

“You’re so handsome, Channie,” you tell him as you continue to run your fingers along his torso, “so hot, you have no idea how bad I’ve wanted you.” He whines and turns his face away, a vain attempt to hide the heat that rises to it. “That’s- I-I.. didn’t know..” he mumbles shyly, hesitant to meet your gaze again- mostly because he thinks his heart will burst if he looks at you while you’re saying things like that to him.

He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to be able to look at you without going red in the face after this, or how he’s going to be able to hear your voice again without his cock getting hard. Better yet, how is he going to look at you without thinking about how bad he wants you to be his, or for him to be yours? Either way, that’s a problem for the future- because your hands and lips are all over him, and that’s what he wants to focus on now.

Chan sucks in a breath when your hand brushes his erection over his jeans, bites his lip when you start to undo the button, lets out a shaky exhale as you begin to pull down the zipper. He’s not sure what you’ll think of his length, but he hopes you like it, prays that it’s enough to satisfy you. “You should have more confidence in yourself, Channie,” is the first thing you say as you take it in your hand, “you’ve got the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”

“W-What? No way, that’s- you’re just saying that,” he pouts, the blush covering his face and ears becoming unbearably hot. You can’t mean that- he almost refuses to believe it; because he simply can’t comprehend that you would prefer him to anyone else. “I’m not, baby. I mean it,” you tell him, and the way he throbs in your hand gives away that he likes the compliment, even if he doesn’t entirely believe it’s true.

You really are being honest; it’s not the longest you’ve ever had, but it’s among the thickest, with pretty veins that accentuate it. You want to trace them- with your fingers, your lips, your tongue, everything. And then there’s the way his pre-cum leaks from the tip, steadily dripping and pooling where it falls- all you can say is that it’s mouth-watering. The look in your eyes makes Chan feel impossibly shy, and it takes everything within him not to cover his face when your eyes meet again.

He never imagined that look would be for him; that he would ever be deserving of your touch and affectionate words. And the sweet smile you offer him when you start to earnestly stroke his cock- he’s done for, absolutely done for. He’ll never be able to hide how bad he wants you after this- maybe he should listen to you and gain some confidence, ask you to be his before someone else steals you away.

Chan quickly loses his ability to form coherent thought once you start picking up your pace however, your hand having quickly become slick from his pre-cum. His head falls back against the sofa, breaths growing more and more labored with each stroke of your soft, warm, wet hand. You can feel his thighs twitch beneath you, and the way his hips jolt up to try to seek further friction from your hand, though your weight atop his legs prevents him doing so.

“Want you in my mouth,” you tell him, pleased with the way the words make him gasp and squirm, “You want that, Channie? Will you let me suck you off?” Fuck, do you even have to ask? As if there is any reality in which he would ever say no; you can have him, all of him, he doesn’t care as long as it’s you- he’ll never deny you any part of him. “Yeah, yeah, want that, please,” he breathes, an almost shameless plea for you to do whatever you want with him.

You offer him a pretty smile, placing a quick but affectionate kiss to his lips before you remove yourself from his lap. Sinking to your knees, you pull Chan’s jeans and boxers down his legs and to his ankles, and wait for him to step out of them and spread his legs wide enough for you to fit between them. There’s an apprehensive look in his eye when you scoot closer to him, and you pause, looking up at him with concern. “Are you nervous?” you ask, ready to stop at a moment’s notice if he needs you to.

“Ah, yeah, sorry, I just-” he pauses, an awkward, nervous laugh leaving him as he averts his gaze away from yours, “I just.. ‘m worried I’m gonna cum too fast when you.. Uh, yeah, you know.” He feels a bit pathetic admitting it, and he keeps his eyes locked on a random corner of the room, still holding onto the irrational fear that you’ll judge or laugh at him. Of course, you do neither- you simply lean forward on your knees, reaching a hand up to touch his face and bring his eyes back to yours.

“Don’t worry about that, I won’t mind if you cum fast, okay? It won’t bother me, and I won’t be mad. Just enjoy yourself,” you tell him earnestly, smiling sweetly at him when he slowly nods. You want to show him that you’re more than happy to take care of him until he gets the confidence in himself he needs, that there’s no shame in feeling so good that he can’t help but let go, that you’ll want him regardless.

You settle back on your knees, rubbing your hands up and down his thighs until you feel like his nerves have settled. He nods to you when he’s ready, and you give him one last smile before you bring your face directly to his waiting cock. The kisses you place to the tip are already enough to have him gasping and squirming in his seat- soft, delicate, and wet. Your fingers hold him at the base, keeping it held in place even as it twitches in response to every kiss you leave behind.

You stick out your tongue, let spit dribble down and further wet his leaking tip, and it’s positively the most erotic thing Chan has ever witnessed; he has to cover his face to stop himself from losing his mind. Head fallen back against the sofa with his arm thrown over his face, he gasps once more when he feels your tongue press against his skin. You lick slowly- whether to savor the taste or prolong the moment, Chan is unsure, but he welcomes it either way.

He can’t suppress the throaty groan that leaves him when you drag your tongue across the entirety of his length, tracing the veins with it just as you wished to. “O-Oh my god, baby-” he gasps when you finally start to take his cock into your mouth, too far gone to realize that he too let the pet name slip out. You don’t seem to mind, at least; after all, despite this “casual” encounter, you’ve already done the same, and been more affectionate than he ever anticipated.

Chan wants to believe you’re affectionate just with him; that none of your other casual partners have ever been looked at the way you’ve looked at him, that you never called them sweet names or given them such caring glances. Maybe he’s feeding himself a delusion, but he wants to believe you want him as bad as he wants you- beyond just the physical. He wants to believe this isn’t just a one time thing, and most of all he wants to believe that you’ll fall in love with him.

Is it normal to think about love when your cock is deep down your crush's throat? He doesn’t know- but all he can think about, apart from how amazing your mouth feels, is how much he loves and adores you. Letting his arm fall back to his side, he lifts his head from the sofa to look at you once more, and fuck, what a site you are. Eyes glassy and pretty as you gaze up at him through your lashes, cheeks flushed red, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.

The sounds you make as you bob your head are so salacious it makes his head spin, his thighs tremble with each motion of your tongue on the underside of his length, and every time his tip touches the back of your throat he can’t help but let out a moan. His fingers struggle to find purchase on the sofa’s cushion, so instead he clenches his fist, knuckles quickly turning white. You notice, of course, so you bring one of your hands to his, intertwining your fingers and letting him squeeze your hand instead.

God, that fucks with his heart- but he hardly has any time to dwell on it. He’s barely been holding back his orgasm, and he’s not sure how much longer he can last. “Babe, baby, feels so good, I can’t- o-oh, please, ‘m gonna cum-” he babbles his warning, whimpering when you hum in response and continue to take him as deep into your mouth as he can go. His eyes roll back, cock throbbing and entire body trembling- and one more swipe of your tongue and swallow around his length is all it takes to have him cumming.

“O-Oh my- fuck, fuck, sorry, ‘m cumming, baby-” he rambles, thankfully too far gone to be embarrassed by all the things he’s saying to you. You swallow all he has to give you, not pulling off him until he starts to come down from his high and cock begins to soften. He’s dazed and breathless as he looks at you, chest heaving as his brain tries to recalibrate itself after how good you just made him feel.

You rise from your knees and set yourself back on the sofa, leaning towards Chan to kiss him after he’s caught his breath. He can taste himself on your lips, but he doesn’t hate it; there’s a strange part of him that even enjoys it. “‘m sorry,” he mumbles with a nervous pout when you pull away, “I tried to hold it back, but..”

“Channie, I told you not to worry about that. It felt good, right? That’s all that matters,” you tell him, directing him to look at you when he tries to avert his gaze again. He swallows the anxiety down, trying to look at you without feeling like disappearing into a void. But he can tell after just a moment how sincere you’re being, and it spreads relief through his veins. It’s not that he really doubted you, but his internal dialogue is far from rational.

You’ve been so good to him since the start, and though he’s incredibly shy and equally as nervous, there’s nothing more he wants now than to return the favor. He still doubts he’s good enough to give you what you deserve, to skillfully make you cum and cry out for him, but he’ll try- God, he’ll fucking try.

It takes all the confidence he can muster to speak what he wants to say, but he thankfully manages alright. “I want, uh- ..w-want to make you cum too,” he admits, doing his best to hold your gaze despite the way shyness claws at him and his blush burns his face. “Yeah?” you smile, honestly pretty eager to let Chan touch you more.

While you were more than ready to keep taking the lead, to guide him along and take care of him, you’re happy to see a surge of confidence in him- even if it’s a small one. “Touch me then, Channie. Make me cum,” you tell him as you beckon him closer, letting out a soft, content hum when he kisses you. You let him guide you back until your back is flat against the sofa, spreading your legs so that he can nestle between them.

You can feel his hands trembling again as they travel your body, but Chan doesn’t let the nerves prevent him from hooking his fingers into your pants. He continues to kiss you as he slides them down your legs, along with your panties- not just because he loves kissing you, but also because he’s not quite ready to look at your bare pussy; he genuinely thinks his heart will give out if he doesn’t mentally prepare himself first.

Pretty soon though, he does have to separate from you so he can let you slip your feet out of your clothes, and subsequently toss them to the floor with all the rest of your discarded clothing. He tries to keep his eyes locked on your face, but he can’t help but let his eyes trail down and roam over the rest of your exposed body. He’s mesmerized in an instant; you’re so impossibly pretty, every inch of you breathtaking and beautiful and- God, just perfect.

He knows his words will fail him, so he hopes his lips on yours will do enough of the talking for him, hopes that he can show how bad he adores and desires you with actions alone. You intended initially to let him take his time, but you’ve been impossibly wet and worked up this entire time; and besides, doesn’t he need a little push?

So you take one of his hands, guiding it to your dripping center. Chan lets out an involuntary whine from the back of his throat, body shivering in response. “Y-You’re so- oh my god, how are you so wet?” he asks, as in awe of you as he is surprised. “You, baby,” you answer, voice growing shakier now that he’s rubbing his fingers between your folds, “I told you, you- you’re so handsome, you know? Get me so hot, ‘ve wanted you so bad.”

God, he still can’t believe it- how is it possible that you’ve wanted him as bad as he’s wanted you? And there’s no way his insecurities can make him believe you’re just saying it to make him feel good about himself anymore- because he can feel the proof of your words with his fingers. “Tell me- tell me what you like, what you want, please,” he softly pleads, “need to make you feel good.”

“Inside, want your pretty fingers inside me,” you tell him, shivering when you feel the tips of his fingers pressing against your hole. He starts slow and careful, gently pushing one of his fingers inside, alternating between watching his hand and looking up to your face. You’re so slick and warm, and the way you squeeze around even just one of his fingers makes his head spin- because he can’t help but imagine how you’d feel on his cock.

“Another, add another, please,” you all but beg once you’re adjusted to how one feels, and he wastes no time in obliging you, delighting in the way it makes your eyes flutter closed. You bite your lip when he starts to instinctively move his fingers faster, little whimpers escaping as your breaths become heavier. “You sound so pretty,” he says, gasping when he realizes it caused you to clench harder around his fingers.

Do you like when he talks to you? He doesn’t know if it’s his voice you like, or what he said in particular, but if you like it then he won’t stop. “F-Feels so amazing, I can’t- can’t stop thinking about what you’d feel like around me, want it so bad, want to be inside you,” he starts to ramble, doing his best to voice everything that comes to his mind, anything he thinks you’ll like and will have you clenching again, even if it embarrasses him to say it.

He experiments with his fingers as he talks to you- changing angles and curling his fingers, trying to find what you like the best. You gasp when he finds your spot with the tips of his fingers, body trembling and back arching. “R-Right there, fuck, feels so good, Channie, your fingers feel so good,” you tell him breathlessly, and he can’t help the way he stiffens and throbs once more in response.

And really, how is he supposed to look at the way you shake beneath him, hear your pretty voice praise the way he’s touching you, and not get hard again? He wants nothing more than to make you cum- to make you cry and writhe in pleasure for him, because of him; almost desperate for it, he hits your spot over and over again, hoping to bring you closer and closer to the release you both crave.

He’s mesmerized by the way your eyes roll back, by the rise and fall of your chest and tremble of your thighs; addicted to the way your moans and whimpers grow higher in pitch, and the messy, wet sounds his fingers create between your legs. Chan glances down to your pussy, taking notice of your puffy, neglected clit.

He wants to taste it, to wrap his lips around and let his tongue lavish it, but he doesn’t trust himself to be able to get down smoothly or without messing up his rhythm; so instead, he brings his thumb to it- something he’s seen done in porn that woman always seemed to like (and he desperately hopes you like it too.) Thankfully, he gets the effect he was hoping for- you let out a whimper and squirm, nails digging into his skin.

Chan doesn’t let up even when his wrist begins to grow sore, running purely on desire and instinct. “F-Fuck, Channie, baby, ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum,” you gasp out, voice whiny and strained, but still oh so pretty in his ears. He can’t believe he’s actually going to make you cum, can’t believe how lucky he is; and he's utterly transfixed on the way your body moves, drunk on the sounds that freely spill from you.

He gasps when you reach out and unexpectedly pull him closer, letting out a soft, surprised whine when you eagerly crash your lips into his. It’s the messiest kiss he’s ever had, tongues dancing and drool falling from the corners of your mouth, hot and heavy breaths passed between each other. Your thighs squeeze his hand as your orgasm takes you, entire body shaking as your back arches off the sofa, arousal gushing and further coating his fingers.

Chan slowly slides his fingers out of you as you catch your breath, meeting your gaze shyly when you open your eyes to look at him once more. He’s so fucking hard, again, and you instantly notice, much to his embarrassment. He wants to fuck you, there’s no denying it- but he can’t help but continue to feel self-conscious, even now.

You sit up and kiss him once more, as if to dispel all doubts and worries from his racing mind. “Want you, Channie,” you tell him, voice soft, sweet, and reassuring, “do you still want me? Wanna fuck me?” He whines from deep in his throat, knowing he’d never be able to deny it, even if he wanted to.

“Yes, God, yes, wanna fuck you,” he answers honestly, nervously chewing on his bottom lip, “b-but I- I just.. don’t want to disappoint you.” He’ll never forgive himself if he fucks this up and leaves you wanting and unsatisfied; he wants to be nothing less than perfect for you and he already knows that he isn’t.

“Channie, baby, look at me,” you say as you reach a hand to his cheek, urging him to meet your eyes again, “you won’t disappoint me, you could never.” You place soft, comforting pecks to his lips, holding his hands and rubbing soothing circles with your thumbs until you feel him start to lose his tension. “Remember what I said? Don’t worry about anything but feeling good. I want you to cum again,” you tell him, smiling as he nods, his face flushing a deeper red.

Leaning towards the coffee table, you reach for where you dropped your purse before sitting down with Chan, digging around inside until you find one of the spare condoms you make sure to keep for your dates. He swallows as he watches you pull it out, beyond nervous but equally as excited to finally feel you wrapped around him.

Even just watching you tear open the packaging is enough to have him trembling, and when you glance at him to make sure he’s ready, he ignores his insecurities the best he can to offer you a timid smile. You return the smile, taking his cock in your hand and giving it a few slow pumps to make sure he’s ready. He squirms and softly whines, still sensitive from his previous orgasm, but there’s no way he’s going to let that stop him from having this moment with you.

He shivers when you easily roll the condom down his length, biting his lip as you crawl back onto his lap after you’ve finished. His heart is beating fast and erratic, and he wonders if you can hear how loudly it’s thumping against his chest. He lies half propped up by one of the sofa’s cushions, looking up at you with eyes akin to a puppy, watching your every move with bated breath.

You reach between your bodies to hold his cock at the base, angling it with your still soaked entrance. You let go once you start to sink down on it, moving your hand to his chest to support yourself as his cock pushes inside. “Oh, fuck-” Chan lets out a choked gasp, already overwhelmed by the sensation even before you’re fully sat on his length.

Even with a condom on, he can still feel how warm and wet you are, your walls squeezing him so tight it takes his breath away. “Fuck, baby, oh my god, it already feels so good, what the fuck-” he gasps again once your hips are flush together. He doesn’t remember it feeling this amazing the last time he had sex; is it because he’s more sensitive from before? Or is it because it’s you?

No matter the answer, he’s certain of one thing- and that’s that he’s definitely going to cum fast; he just hopes you meant it when you said it’s okay. He lets out an obscenely loud moan when you start to lift and drop your hips- one that would normally make him extremely embarrassed, but he feels way too good to even focus on it; all he can think about is how fucking good you feel.

His hands squeeze your hips, and he looks at you with stars in his eyes. How can you be so pretty, so beautiful? How can you feel this good? The way he’s looking at you makes your heart stutter and pussy clench, an act that makes Chan’s head fall back against the cushion as he moans. He’s so handsome, with the way his curly hair clings to his forehead with sweat, his bitten lips and flushed cheeks- it's insane that he can't see how crazy for him you are.

You lean forward to kiss him, bringing one of your hands up to thread your fingers through his hair as your tongue slips past his parted lips. He feels dizzy with pleasure, each of his loud moans and whines muffled only by your lips on his. You’re both panting by the time you separate, with you falling forward and burying your face into his neck.

Your legs and knees quickly begin to scream at you, but you ignore it as best you can in favor of chasing pleasure, bouncing on his cock with all the energy you can muster. You know he won’t last much longer- he was already sensitive to start, and you can feel him twitching and throbbing more and more with each additional motion of your hips.

“Baby, ‘m so close-” Chan whimpers, eyes rolling back when you clench around him harder. “Yeah? Gonna cum again for me, Channie? Gonna cum with me?” you ask as you snake your hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit in quick circles so that you can cum together. He quickly nods and bites his lip, hands squeezing you tighter and hips rising to chase you every time you lift off him.

It only takes a couple more rolls of your hips to have him cumming again, white, hot pleasure coursing through his veins and overwhelming every inch of his body, filling the condom with all he has to give. You follow quickly behind, hips stuttering and losing all sense of rhythm as you ride out your release.

You collapse against his chest with a heavy sigh once you’re done, utterly exhausted from all the effort, but completely satisfied. You’re both breathless, eyes closed as you collect yourselves and racing hearts start to return to normal speed. Well, in Chan’s case it doesn’t completely return to normal; because you’re still naked on top of him, and even after having just had sex, he still can’t believe you’re here with him right now like this.

You lift your hips and let his softening cock slide out of you, laying on Chan’s side with his arm as support so you don’t fall off the sofa. You carefully remove the condom, tying it off and preparing it to be thrown away once you’re ready to get up- for now, you’re too tired to move, and you just want to stay next to Chan for as long as you can.

You lay your leg across his body, cuddling close to him while he continues to support your weight with his arm. “How was it? Fun?” you ask him, smiling when he blushes and looks away, still unable to help being shy even after all you just did together. “Of course, you’re.. incredible,” he answers honestly, chewing on his lip before he continues, “But, were you- ..was I good enough for you..?”

“Channie, are you kidding? You were perfect, I promise,” you assure him, giggling softly when he breathes a sigh of relief. “You get stuck in your head too much, baby,” you continue, absentmindedly tracing circles in his skin as you speak, “I promise you, you could have anyone you want. I mean it when I say you’re perfect.” He still doesn’t quite believe what you’re saying is true, but he can at least accept that you believe it.

But he wonders if you know- it’s not just anyone he wants, but you. He was only able to do this because it was you that offered- anyone else, and he would’ve instantly turned them down, or wouldn't have been able to enjoy himself if he did accept. Looking at you now reaffirms what he’s long since thought- you’re the only one for him.

“Baby, I want you to be mine- want you to be my girlfriend,” is what he wants to say- but Chan is much too shy, and can’t bring himself to do it. “C-Can we- can we do this again sometime..?” is what he ends up saying insead. And you smile as you nod, sweetly running your fingers through his messy curls before you give him another kiss, “Course, baby. Anytime you want me, I’m yours.”

network tags: @skzstarnet @ksmutsociety

#“something small” i say as i write 5k more words than intended of pure smut #ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

275 notes · View notes

sapphicnae · 2 days

Text

Love, Hate and Everything in Between

Summary: Regina hated you and you hated Regina. Each of you so obsessed with taking down the other. But was this obsession pure hatred or something more?

Character Pairings: Regina x fem!reader, Regina x Cady (if you squint)

Warnings: Slurs, Bullying, Toxic Behaviour, Internalised Homophobia

Words: 2.6k

A/N: This is my first fic / one-shot on here so I hope you guys enjoy. I’ve been reading some fics on here and decided we don’t have enough Regina fics going round, so I thought, what better than a classic enemies to lovers (?). Apologies for any mistakes I did write half of this at 4am. If you do enjoy, please let me know because I wouldn’t mind turning this into a full blown fic, I have plenty more ideas for it. Also, I’m very open to requests!

You and Regina. Two of the most popular girls in school.

Regina hated you, and you hated Regina.

It had been this way since you had joined North Shore a year ago and gained popularity, despite Regina’s attempts to take you down at every turn. But one thing you and your best friend, Janis Imi’ike couldn’t figure out was why Regina was so obsessed with you. To the point you would catch her staring at you from across the cafeteria almost daily, albeit with an icy glare plastered on her face. You had both had your fair share of run-ins with each other, after all, Regina couldn’t stand to see the new girl rise to popularity as fast as you had in your year of being at this school. But the difference between you and Regina was that you actually treated people with respect... and you just happened look pretty while doing it.

Jealousy. That’s all you had chalked her behaviour down to, until recently.

Regina had consistently made it clear that she was in fact, not gay. From her messy relationship with Aaron Samuels to openly flirting with Shane Oman in the halls, she had made it very clear she only had eyes for men. Her performative gestures with Shane in the hallways also coupled with the spreading of rumours about certain people being a lesbian. From the way Regina had spoken this word, it had made it seem as if this was the worst possible thing to be known as at North Shore. No one in school had ever had the guts to stand up to Regina for her problematic behaviour, especially since she ruled the halls with fear. Yet her reign seemed to be interrupted the moment you transferred to North Shore. You were the only person who wasn’t afraid to defend yourself, or others for that matter.

Naturally, Regina could not stand this. Which lead to you having a constant target on your back for rumours and blatant lies in order for you to lose your popularity as well as your dignity. You thought it was incredibly excessive of her to make out that being a lesbian was a bad thing. Partly because your best friend and partner-in-crime, Janis was a lesbian and partly because deep down, you knew you had an attraction to girls too. Yet the only people who knew this was Janis and Damien, of course, your two closest friends.

You had not yet been in a relationship since joining North Shore that year, not due to avoidance, but due to all your time being taken up by your rivalry with Regina. Which was totally normal… right?

The most recent rumour that was circling the halls, of course spread by Regina, was that at a party that you had both been to last Friday night, you had made a pass at Regina. Hearing this from Damien in English class that day was the last thing you had needed after enjoying a supposedly drama free day for once. Anyone who was at the party that night would’ve known that wasn’t true, yet Regina had a certain charm to the way she could make anything seem believable. You of course weren’t surprised at her attempts to drag your reputation down for the umpteenth time this year. She loved making out that you were the one who was obsessed with her and not the other way round. It irked you to think that she could get away with having the last laugh. You would have just let it slide, but your ego once again stood in the way of your ability to allow Regina to think she had won.

So that’s when lunch rolled around. You, Janis, and Damien were sitting at your usual table, with the plastics in view. Having to watch them gossiping with each other and occasionally glancing your way had left you with a deep-seated feeling of rage. You had never been one to often keep your emotions in check, this seemed to be your downfall in situations like these. Feeling anger like this was always the driver of your revenge. Coupled with the fact that thoughts of Regina didn’t often leave your mind. Which was obviously due to the fact that you resented her so much. You hated everything about her. Sure, she was gorgeous, with those stupid green eyes that always harboured some form of winged eyeliner, along with the rest of her makeup that accentuated her already flawless features. That stupid beautiful blonde hair that always seemed to sit in the perfect place, flowing down her back like she was some sort of supermodel. Those perfect lips tha-

“Dude, are you even listening to me right now?” Janis questioned, lightly punching your arm, ripping you away from your thoughts. A small blush crept up your neck, realising you had been so deep in thoughts about Regina that you had completely zoned out of the conversation you were supposed to be having.

You faltered for a moment before attempting to save yourself with a reply “Y-yeah of course. I was just-“

“Clearly planning her revenge against queen of the plastics, god Janis, keep up” Damien chimes in, attempting to save the day. Janis just rolls her eyes at both of you. She had been dealing with Regina and her posse for years, which meant she had more or less tuned their drama out in an attempt to stay sane at this school. With you however, it was a different story, Regina somehow always found the perfect way to rile you up.

“The day queen bitch of North Shore gives it a rest with these dumbass rumours, will be the day I know peace” Janis huffed, which made both you and Damien chuckle in response. “Especially with her obsession over who’s a lesbian and who’s not. If you ask me, she should just come out of the closet already.” She then nods to you “I mean, the closet might as well be glass with the way she stares you down at any given moment. Coming from a fellow girl kisser, she wants you baaad.” She laughed at her own words. Receiving an eye roll from you this time.

“That girl needs to be called out on her shit.” You glance over at Regina who is sporting a smug smile listening in to her friends gossiping. You couldn’t stand the fact that she had gotten under your skin once again. With the rumour fresh in your mind, you couldn’t help yourself from wanting to act. Deep down you loved the drama between the both of you, it gave you some sort of high, being able to pull Regina off her own narcissistic pedestal. It was like some sort of addiction; you couldn’t get enough of it “in fact… what better time than right now?” You uttered, as you shot up from your seat. Before either Janis or Damien could sway you out of it, you were already making your way over to the table across the cafeteria.

As you approached, you could see Regina’s eyes flicker towards you, a wry smirk growing on her face. On seeing Regina’s attention shift, the rest of the plastics turned to face your way, which didn’t deter you in the slightest. Having a rivalry with Regina for this long, you were used to all eyes being plastered on you while confronting her. Plus, nothing about Regina’s minions scared you. All they ever seemed to do was blindly follow her around like lost puppies. The only person who you had never understood as being part of the group was Cady Heron. You had sat with her in a couple of your classes, and with the way she spoke, it seemed she so desperately wanted to be her own person instead of being grouped in with the meanest girls in school. This lead to you gaining a small amount of respect for her. A few times you had considered asking her why she still sticks with Regina after seeing the way she treats her, but you knew that would be a whole other mess. Besides, there was a high chance that she’d go running straight to Regina about it. It seemed as though Cady was on the tightest leash out of anyone in the plastics… probably because Regina knew she could be pulled away from her with the right amount of convincing.

Right before you reached the table you noticed Regina stiffen her posture, followed by a groan, “here comes queen lesbo of North Shore”, which was followed by a few snickers from Gretchen and Karen. Funnily enough, Cady remained silent. “What’s up? Couldn’t get enough of me Friday ni-“

You interrupt her by slamming your hands on the table, which not only grabbed the attention of the plastics, but those who were on the surrounding tables too. You lock eyes with Regina as you spoke in a low tone, attempting to control your anger towards her.

“Real cute hearing that you’re telling people I came onto you, when anyone who was there knows we barely even made eye contact.” Regina raised an eyebrow at you, smirk still in place. She then spoke condescendingly, before you could continue.

“Oh honey, of course you don’t remember, you were sooo drunk and all over me, everyone saw it, right Gretch?” She then shot her a dangerous look to which Gretchen instantly nodded in response. This amused you slightly, knowing she was laying it on thick. She was trying so desperately hard with this angle that you decided to use her tactics against her for once. You let out a laugh of false amusement before continuing.

“Oh please Regina, you’re trying so hard to convince everyone it’s true, almost as if… you wish it was? I mean it wouldn’t be surprising. I’ve seen the way you stare at me in the hallways, you make it a bit obvious don’t you think?” By this point, the smile on Regina’s face had completely dropped, morphing into a poisonous glare. As she opened her mouth to cut you off, you kept speaking, raising your tone to catch the attention of others. “-so obvious in fact, that I don’t even need to say it out loud, people are whispering about it already. So next time you wanna spread rumours like that, try taking a look in the mirror first.” People around you gasp, hearing you speak to Regina in the same way she would leaves even the queen bee herself in slight shock before she manages to compose herself. You hadn’t even considered the weight of the words you had spoken until they had left your mouth. You had basically just accused her of having a huge crush on you and judging by the state it left her in, it didn’t seem like that was far from the truth.

“So, you are gay?” Karen pipes up first, mouth slightly agape as she speaks. Regina shoots a glare at her, making her immediately look in the opposite direction.

It was your turn to smirk seeing her cheeks turn scarlet as she gritted her teeth. She was clearly outraged, the look on her face said so. Yet, hidden behind her eyes, there seemed to be an ounce of shame present. Having a moment to study this look almost made you feel… regret? Though in the next beat, she rose up from where she was sitting and took a few steps towards where you’re stood, towering over you slightly. She had rarely ever made a move to get this close to you before, and standing where she is right now, you could practically smell her expensive perfume. You fought the urge to take a step back, as your breath hitched slightly. For a moment she hesitates, her eyes flicker to your lips for just a split second, but not fast enough that you don’t catch her doing it. If this wasn’t happening in front of the whole school crowd, you would be sure that she was about to lean in and kiss you. You felt yourself taking a heavy breath to steady yourself before she snaps at you.

“Listen, dyke. If you ever catch me staring at you it’s because I think you’re a freak. And if you think for one second, I would ever be into you, then you’re even more delusional than I thought. So why don’t you and the rest of your sad little band of freaks over there, go and-“

She is almost immediately cut off by a teacher who walks over to the group, clearly having been alerted of the altercation going off in the middle of the cafeteria. Regina immediately takes a step back from you and fixes her hair, attempting to seem as innocent as possible.

“Girls, what seems to be the problem?” Ms. Norbury questions, looking between the two of you. With the rest of the plastics keeping silent, it was up to one of you to speak up first. Regina then plasters a fake polite look on her face and turns to Ms. Norbury to speak. Right as you expected her to defame you all the way to your seat in detention, she instead gives a different response.

“There’s no problem, everything’s fine.” Regina smiles at her as you see the rest of her crew nodding behind her, which brings you to scoff at the sudden change up in her demeanour. Having dealt with Regina many times before, it was clear that Ms. Norbury saw right through this attempt to get her to leave you both to it. Which lead to what she had to say next.

“Look girls, I know the two of you have had issues in the past. But I won’t tolerate drama like this during school hours.” She then steps between the both of you. “Now separate this and I’ll see you in my office after school. Both of you.” She then turns on her heel and walks away.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you huff out in disbelief. After this, you decide it’s best to walk away from Regina and return to your table before your day could get any worse. But not before she hastily grips your forearm and subtly whispers some hostile words close to your ear.

“We are so not done, freak” she then roughly drops your arm before coasting back to her seat. Though her threatening remark left you stunned for a moment, her closeness left you breathless for longer. As you made your way back to Janis and Damien, you couldn't get the thought of her out of your head. After all the tension and pent-up anger between you, you secretly hoped she might be right. Because as you stared at her from across the cafeteria, your heart thumped in your chest, not out of fear, but something else. You were definitely not done with each other. Not by a long shot.

#regina george #regina x reader #regina george x reader #mean girls 2024 #cady heron #janis imi'ike #mean girls #regina george x fem!reader #fanfic #mean girls musical #renee rapp #angst

188 notes · View notes

beloved-nyx · 2 days

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 “𝐁” 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 !

ᝰ.ᐟ Why does it feel like someone’s following your every move?

જ⁀➴ STARRING: 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 (𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍) 𝐱 𝐆𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

જ⁀➴ CONTENT: stalking, suggestive, reader is in college, reader is insecure, nothing to bad ??, not proofread (we die like kings), soft yandere (?), nothing graphic, mentions of jealousy and clinginess

જ⁀➴ FORMAT: 1.3k words, full fic

જ⁀➴ AUTHORS NOTE: This is my third time writing yandere ahhh! Anyway, it's been so long since I wrote something!! Um enjoy <33 also damn...reader really going through it.

“There,” You mutter under your breath. “Finished.”

You balance precariously on a wobbly stool, hands parting from a sleek, black camera. A security camera, to be precise.

You would have never thought of putting a camera in your apartment, not because you were naively dumb, but because you had thought you lived in the safer part of the city. Friendly neighbors always alerted you when suspicious people even lingered next to your doorstep, but also because you were broke. Broke, broke, broke.

Your rent was taking up more of your money than your groceries were. It had taken weeks of splurging on food to even be able to afford a security camera, much to your disdain. You were living on leftovers, and you were getting sick of week-old Chinese takeout.

Stepping off the stool, you admire your handiwork, cringing at how gaudy it looked in your minimalistic (or in much harsher words, bare) apartment room.

Your phone dings softly, and as you pick it up, you grin at the name displayed on your notifications. Caelan.

Caelan is your crush. Your cheeks seem to grow hotter at even admitting it in your thoughts. You felt like some highschool kid, even using the word “crush.” But Caelan did that to you, you guess. Make you feel childish and absolutely hopeless, and sometimes you wish he knew that. But then again, if he did, you would probably self-destruct on the spot. You were fine with admiring Caelan from afar.

Heard what happened U ok?

Ahh. That.

The very reason you put that gaudy camera in your apartment in your first place.

It had been a month ago, when you first saw the signs of someone breaking into your house. You were doing laundry, a perfectly normal thing to do on a Friday night while your friends were getting drunk and partying at a local club. Some of your underwear was missing, but you had chalked it up to your own clumsiness.

But then you saw the note, and everything changed. Written sloppily, penmanship atrocious. You had thought that the person was just bad at writing-but in hindsight, he must have used his less dominant hand to write it. Biting your cheek, you read it, and you wished you hadn’t.

It was the most perverse, disgusting thing you had ever read. That night, you couldn’t even sleep, scared that the unknown intruder-stalker would come.

The next day, the stalker sent you pictures of you doing the most mundane things. Sleeping, eating, studying, doing laundry, and even changing.

You immediately called the police on the next day, when a bouquet of roses showed up on your doorstep. The police had said, “We’ll look into it.”

They never did.

It led you to ask for help from a friend, and you instantly regretted it. Because the next day, the whole campus learned of your supposed stalker. And even though their sympathetic, “You okay?” made you feel a little bit more safer, a little more secure in your tiny world, it still made you embarrassed, scared too.

You type in a quick, I'm fine! And then wonder if you should put an emoji after that. After spending an embarrassingly long minute of deciding if you should, you just send it with no emoji.

That’s good. If you need anything just call me.

…

A few days pass by, and still no stalker appears on the camera footage. At first, you’re elated. But then another few days pass, and you feel silly. Maybe there was no stalker, maybe you were being overdramatic-but even then, those pictures? The note? You shiver. You hear a knock on the door, and turn to the noise, a small hum escaping your lips.

Must be the delivery man. You had ordered some new textbooks for college. You walk towards the door, and twist the knob.

Caelan smiles, pale fingers holding a bouquet of roses. He wears a black turtleneck, gray pants and a black dress coat. You, on the other hand, were wearing your pajamas.

If you could melt in a puddle, you would have. You wished you were buried in a pit. You wanted to be flung into space. Your cheeks were burning hot. You must look like a mess. Is it too late to be flung into space?

“C-Caelan. What brings you…uh, here?” You cringe at your words.

“For you, of course.” He laughs, taking a rose from the bouquet and putting it behind your ear. “I just wanted to check up on you. I hope I wasn’t intruding on anything, like your beauty sleep,” He muses, eyes wandering towards your pajamas.

You never wanted to turn into a puddle so badly.

“Hah-no, I just woke up!” You lie, ignoring the way he cocks his head to the side skeptically. Ignoring the fact that it's three p.m.

“You should’ve called…I would’ve,” You gesture towards your clothes, “y’know, prepared.”

“Oh shit!” His eyebrows furrow, a hand yanking at a loose black strand of hair that escaped his braid. “I’m sorry, I was just so worried–”

“No, no it’s fine!” You hate the way you sound-so, so desperate. “Um, do you want to come inside? I’ll go change and then we can talk.”

You lead him inside, ignoring the fact of how oddly happy he is to be inside your home.

…

After Caelan and you became official, he started to change. Slowly, like how a caterpillar becomes a butterfly.

He became more clingy, and at first you thought it cute. You loved the way he doted on you, liked how he curled up into you in the mornings when he stayed at your home (more often than not) and begged you to stay in bed for just a few minutes.

But he also became more jealous. Whenever you were next to someone, he always hovered close by, a suffocating presence that almost drowned you. Always insisted on going wherever you went.

You sit on the couch, nestled closely next to Caelan. He hums softly, hands nestled under your shirt as you watch some shitty rom-com. A masterpiece. You called it. Caelan had raised a brow at that, but didn’t say anything except for a snort. You had elbowed him in the stomach after he jokingly (?) insulted one of your favorite moments.

“‘m gonna get some water,” he mumbles, hands retracting from your body and making you feel cold. You whine at the sudden coldness, complaining about how you might die of hypothermia if he doesn’t come back soon. He scoffs at that, planting a kiss on your temple as he walks into the kitchen.

And leaves his phone.

You pick it up, grinning. Your intent was clear. Take a silly photo of yourself and make it his wallpaper. A perfect, opportune moment.

You open the camera app, successfully taking a horridly candid shot of yourself, before curiosity takes a hold of you. You open the photo app, scrolling through his photos. Most of it was just pictures of landscapes, before you stop.

A picture of you sleeping, drool leaking from your mouth.

You stop, before groaning. Did you really look like that when you slept? You scrolled some more, before stopping again. Blood running cold.

Was that a picture of you changing?

You frantically scroll through more photos, and with horror realize that most resemble the photos that your stalker took. You would never forget how disgusting you felt, at how you felt like your privacy had been breached.

You choke down a scream, eyes wide and hands shaking.

And then you feel something-a hand, on your shoulder. Tight enough to bruise, and tight enough to secure you in place.

“Oh.” A single word escapes Caelan’s lips, and you turn. You can see your own, frantic expression in his black eyes. Black eyes that you thought were beautiful.

“So you saw them, hmm.” It wasn’t stated as a question. No, it was a statement. A fact, indisputable. The most horrible part was that he wasn’t even trying to deny them.

“Well, isn’t this cute?”

©beloved-nyx. do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

#❛❛𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.𝐎𝐅.𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋.𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄—ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹❞#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #Yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #Male yandere #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere x you #male yandere x y/n #yandere drabble #yandere imagines #yandere male #soft yandere #yandere x gn reader

172 notes · View notes

coolemmasulivan2 · 7 hours

Text

It's Always You

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: You and Lando share a mutual attraction, but you've kept things professional due to career implications. However, after his first win race, things may change, blurring the lines between friendship and something more.

Word count: 6013

Author's note: First time writing about Lando. I started writing this on the day of the Miami Sprint and then when he won the next day I told myself I would publish it. Tell me what you think.

It's you, it's always you Met a lot of people, but nobody feels like you So please don't break my heart, don't tear me apart

Miami heat wrapped around you like a steamy August day and even if American tracks weren't your thing, the paddock was definitely one of your favourites.

Working with McLaren since 2019 felt like winning the lottery. Travel, new faces, and a taste of different cultures – it was everything you dreamed of. Hospitality put you in the middle of it all – the team, the fans, even the families. Being young, you clicked quickly with the drivers: Carlos and Lando from the start, and Oscar when he joined.

Carlos was your rock, a protective older brother even after his move to Ferrari. Daniel was a blast, always making you laugh with his great sense of humor, and Oscar's calm personality mirrored yours. He became your trackside best friend, sharing everything over coffee and off-track adventures with his girlfriend, Lily.

Then there was Lando. Your relationship with Lando was different. Unlike Carlos, you saw him not as a brother, but as a friend... friends that had feelings for each other.

He was shy at first, stealing glances when you weren't looking. But time made his shyness disappear. Flirting became his game, playful touches here and there and unexpected hugs wherever he felt like it. You ignored the signs until his confession left you speechless in the middle of the night in Monaco.

"I have something I need to tell you." He said.

It was 2020. Monaco was hot that night. Everyone at the team dinner was buzzing about the upcoming classic Monaco Grand Prix. Like always, after the dinner, Lando offered to walk you back to the hotel where the team was staying – nothing new. You even joked about Carlos doing the same thing.

Like all the other times, you didn't think much about the gesture. It was something he used to do, and in your head, it was just a friend helping the other. After all, Carlos did it from time to time. Why should it be any different with Lando?

"What's up?" You asked, the streetlights shining on his face. "Getting nervous about the race? The car feels amazing, right?"

Lando messed with his hair. Your voice, normally like music to him, made him forget what to say. "Uh, no, not the race."

"Then what is it? Now I'm the one freaking out." You tried to lighten the mood with a laugh. "Did you lose your house key again? You're not staying with me."

He wished you'd just be quiet. "Fuck, Y/N!" He blurted out. "I like you." The words came out fast, just like his orange F1 car. Did you hear him right? When he saw the surprise on your face, he knew you had. "I, uh, I mean more than a friend." He stammered. "Like, a lot. You're always in my head, even in my dreams. All the fucking time. I can't even look at other girls because you're all I see. I just had to tell you. I couldn't keep it in any longer."

You suddenly froze, your heart pounding like a drum solo. Time seemed to slow down, with only the two of you and the warm glow of the streetlights as the real things around. You wanted to speak, but the words simply wouldn't come out.

"Please say something!" Lando begged, his voice shaky. "Anything! Even if you don't like me back, just tell me. But don't let this mess up our friendship!"

It didn't destroy your friendship, but it sent your world spinning. You realized your little crush on the driver was a full-blown fire, and with each passing year, the flames only licked higher. But every time Lando flirted, the same words you had said to him tumbled out: "It's inappropriate."

He hated those words. He'd always argue with you about it. "Come on, I like you and I know you like me too. I know it! Who cares about work? We can keep it quiet. It can be our secret." He always had a solution for every worry, but you remained strong.

You wanted to believe that you could remain strong.

The problem was, your feelings were turning into a rebellion. Keeping them bottled up was a losing battle, and you weren't sure how much longer you could resist the pressure from the driver.

Lando strutted into the paddock beside you, his black clothes and crisp white shirt doing nothing to hide his cocky grin. "Finally figured out why I haven't won a race yet." He announced, his cologne a heady wave in your direction.

You peeked over your sunglasses. "Oh yeah, Sherlock? What's the conclusion?"

He leaned close, his voice a low rumble. "No good luck kiss from you, that's what! Maybe we should fix that? Make it a tradition if it works."

A laugh escaped you. "So it's my fault, huh?"

"Exactly!" He grinned. "And if I lose again without a kiss, everyone's gonna hear about it."

"That's your best shot at flirting?" You teased. "Seriously, Lando, you're terrible."

A playful smirk tugged at his lips. He draped his arm around your shoulder, leading you towards the McLaren hospitality area. "The only girl I flirt with is you, love. Guess you'll have to show me how to improve."

Heat flooded your cheeks, betraying your fake indifference. Lando wasn't an idiot. He knew you felt the same way, a truth as clear as the Miami sunshine.

A booming voice shattered the playful tension. "Whoa there, puppet, keep your hands off of her!"

Carlos emerged behind you, clad in his new Ferrari blues. You turned to see him glaring at Lando, who simply scoffed and moved away, the arm around your shoulder replaced by Carlos's protective arm.

He leaned down, a quick peck on your head followed by a wink aimed at Lando, who rolled his eyes with a playful huff.

"Or what?" Lando challenged.

Carlos pretended to consider, then grinned. "Or I'll run you off the track at the race. And don't even think about getting jealous. It's a bad look on you."

Agree to disagree, you thought. Jealousy did look good on him. The way he tapped his foot impatiently, the way he chewed his lip with a focused intensity – those were the subtle giveaways that made your heart skip a beat.

"Leave him alone, Sainz!" You swatted playfully at Carlos' chest, the contact sending a blush blooming across your cheeks.

"Oh, look who's defending the love bird." He teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You blushed once again. "Shut up." You whispered.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Lando fighting a smile as you continued towards McLaren hospitality. A quick goodbye to Carlos later, you disappeared inside, ready for your daily tasks. Lando watched you go, his gaze lingering long after you were out of sight.

When he finally turned back to his friend, Carlos was waiting, arms crossed, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. "What?"

"Ugh, the both of you." Carlos rolled his eyes. "All this mooning and staring, it's getting pathetic. Just take her out, will you?"

Lando sighed. "I've been trying for years. It's always 'inappropriate.'"

"Well, try harder!" Carlos pressed. "Last thing you need is someone else catching her eye."

Lando's playful demeanor vanished. "What do you mean?" He pressed, a sudden seriousness tightening his features. Carlos simply offered him a pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Lando with a gnawing sense of unease. "Hey, what do you mean?"

The sprint had been a disaster. It all ended so quickly that it didn't give him enough time to think, no chance to catch Max and the others at the front. To make matters worse, the Stewards imposed a heavy fine of €50,000 for crossing the track while the rave was still ongoing.

Later, back at the hotel, he was torn between feeling exhausted and frustrated. A cold shower did little to wash away the bitter taste of defeat. He pulled on fresh clothes and collapsed onto the bed. Closing his eyes, he focused on the tension leaving his body, hoping for a moment of peace.

A loud ringing sound shattered the silence and startled him out of his daze. He groaned as he searched for his phone, buried somewhere in the crumpled sheets.

Y/n: Hey, Oscar and I are planning to watch a movie and grab some food. Wanna join us? We're in my bedroom.

Lando smile, looking at your text.

Lando: You know I like you. You shouldn't tell me when you have other guys in your bedroom. It breaks my heart.

Although he couldn't see you, he was certain you were rolling your eyes after reading his message.

Y/n: Shut up and get your ass here.

A laugh escaped Lando's lips as he pushed himself out of bed. He stalked over to the mirror, running a hand through his damp curls. With a flick of the switch, the room dropped into darkness, and Lando walked out of his room.

Your room was on a different floor, but soon a familiar knock came at your door. Your heart kicked into a familiar rapid-fire beat as you swung the door open.

"Hi!"

"Hey, beautiful." He cupped your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Osc!" He jumped in your bed and in one smooth motion, he snagged a chip from the bowl you'd set on the nightstand.

"Hey. What do you feel like watching?" He quickly looked through your Netflix library, skipping over the typical romantic comedy options.

"Anything but that mushy stuff." Lando declared, earning a playful jab from you.

"Take your shoes off the bed, Lando!"

He chuckled, kicking off his sneakers. He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze lingering on you for a second too long. You were a black Simpsons shirt and matching sporty shorts, your bare feet resting comfortably on the cool sheets. A small anchor could be seen on your ankle, sparking his imagination about what other hidden treasures lay beneath your clothes.

The spell was broken by a knock on the door. With a quick smile, you ran toward the door, returning moments later with a stack of takeout boxes.

You settled next to Lando on the bed, while Oscar sprawled out at the foot like a contented cat. With the Avengers movie playing softly in the background, you devoured your food, a comfortable silence settling around the three of you.

Two hours passed by quickly as the credits rolled. Oscar groaned and got off the bed. You mimicked his stretch, feeling the pleasant ache of a relaxed evening.

"Looks like someone's having a sleepover!" Oscar teased, pointing a playful finger at Lando. The driver was sprawled across your pillow, a peaceful look on his face.

A soft gasp escaped your lips. "Oh, Lando!" you whispered, torn between amusement and a flicker of panic. He looked undeniably adorable, a mess of soft curls framing his face. You glanced at Oscar, who was already pulling on his sneakers. "We have to wake him up, right?"

Oscar chuckled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "We? Seems pretty comfy to me, Y/N. Let the man enjoy his rest." He started towards the door, but you reached out.

"Wait, where are you going? He can't stay here." Panic bubbled in your chest. The thought of him sleeping in your bed sent shivers down your spine.

"So wake him up!"

Your cheeks flushed crimson. "I… I don't want to wake him." The words came out a soft mumble, barely audible.

Oscar leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Then don't. Trust me, asleep is the only state he'll stay put. Besides, wouldn't you rather wake up to a grateful cuddle buddy in the morning?"He winked, leaving you speechless, alone with the British driver.

Oh my god, you screamed to yourself.

You tiptoed around the room, unsure of your next move. Finally, drawn by a strange magnetism, you found yourself kneeling by the bed.

Lando's serene face was illuminated by the soft bedside lamp. His chest rose and fell gently in sleep, a single black curl escaping the gentle mess of his hair.

An irresistible urge to touch him washed over you. Without thinking about it, your fingers reached out, tentatively brushing against the perfect curl. As if sensing the intrusion, Lando stirred, and his brow furrowed slightly. You quickly retreated to the bathroom, heart pounding as you slammed the door carefully behind you.

Leaning against the door, you let out a shaky breath. You hurriedly changed into pyjamas, suddenly aware of how thin they felt compared to your day clothes. But it was hot, and you hadn't brought anything else.

Peeking through the crack in the door, you peeked out, praying for the best. Relief flooded you when you saw Lando, thankfully still asleep, but now facing the other side of the bed.

You were wondering if that little couch in the corner was worth sleeping on. It looked quite small and uninviting. Sleep on that uncomfortable excuse of furniture, or share the bed with Lando? The answer, realistically, was obvious.

You climbed in, scooting over as far as possible to create a respectable amount of distance from the body next to you. Sleep, thankfully, came quickly. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the day, or perhaps the unexpected warmth and sense of security that came with having Lando beside you, but you drifted off faster than usual.

Sunlight, snuck into the room, painting stripes across Lando's face. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. Hadn't he closed those curtains last night? He sat up, surprise jolting through him as he realized he wasn't in his own bed.

Even more shocking was the sight beside him. You, cuddle against him, your thin pyjamas offering little to make him look away. One of your legs peeked out from under the discarded sheet, and Lando felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the morning sun.

What in the world? How had he ended up, tangled in your sheets? A quick glance around revealed his phone abandoned on the nightstand. It was still early, but Jon would be expecting him in his room soon. He needed to get out, get cleaned up and get ready for the day. But leaving felt like ripping himself away from something precious.

He stole a glance at you. Your face, relaxed and peaceful, was turned towards him. A stray strand of hair tickled your cheek. Hesitantly, he reached out, tucking it behind your ear. The touch, light as a feather, was enough to stir you awake.

Lando didn't flinch and when you fluttered your eyes open, his face was inches away. A wave of yearning swept through you, a desire for more mornings waking up beside him.

"Did I die and go to heaven last night?" His voice, husky with sleep, sent shivers down your spine.

"You fell asleep." You admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "And I didn't have the heart to wake you up."

"Right." He breathed the word out, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. His hand reached out, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that both surprised and delighted you. A blush crept up your neck as he murmured, "Lucky me." Then, a sigh escaped his lips. "I have to go. Jon will be at my room any minute."

You nodded and smiled, despite the disappointment tugging at your heart. You watched as he hesitately rose, groaning at leaving your bed. His hair was a mess of adorable curls, and his rumpled clothes added a touch of vulnerability that made him look even more adorable.

He grabbed his phone and sneakers and then paused, a playful smirk on his face. "So, about that lucky kiss for good luck?" He teased, a hint of hope lacing his voice. "We already slept together!"

"Go!" You muttered.

"Fine, fine." He chuckled. "See you later, love."

He turned towards the door, and an impulsive urge surged through you. Before you could overthink it, you were out of bed and racing towards him. He reached for the doorknob, but you were faster, grabbing his arm and spinning him around.

For a moment, confusion clouded his features, but it quickly melted into surprise as you planted a kiss on his cheek. It was a chaste kiss, lingering just a beat too long to be considered entirely platonic. When you pulled away, his eyes held a mixture of shock and something deeper.

"There's your lucky kiss." You whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "Now go."

Lando stood speechless for a moment, the kiss still tingling on his skin. Then, a slow smile spread across his face "Today is a day full of opportunities." He declared.

With one last lingering look, he opened the door and disappeared into the hallway. You leaned against the wall, your heart pounding against your ribs.

You had never felt more nervous before in a race. At the start, it seemed like Oscar could give Verstappen a run for his money, but then the safety car came out and it felt like you were barely moving until the end of the race, with Lando being P1. It wasn't until the checkered flag waved that you finally exhaled, a shaky breath that escaped with a nervous laugh.

The McLaren hospitality buzzed with excitement. Lando had finally done it. His first F1 victory, a triumph long overdue. You joined the celebrations, a wide smile plastered across your face, not just for the team, but for Lando himself. It was a moment he deserved.

"Great race, Oscar!" You exclaimed as the Australian driver entered the hospitality area and hug you. "You had Red Bull sweating for a while there!"

He chuckled, pulling you into a brief hug. "Thanks, Y/N. I gave it my all, but the real winner tonight is Lando." He winked. "I'm sure your champion will be here any minute, looking for his girl."

You slapped his arm playfully, a blush creeping up your neck. "Don't say that in here!"

"Everybody knows." He whispered back.

As if on cue, Lando appeared. His eyes scanned the room, a triumphant grin splitting his face when they landed on you. You saw as he and Oscar hugged each other and the rest of the team.

He weaved his way through the crowd, a trail of congratulations and backslaps following him, but it was you he was drawn to. Everyone else faded into the background as he reached you, his victory grin melting into a tender smile reserved only for you.

You welcomed him into a hug, a sweet and loving embrace. He buried his face in your neck, the scent of champagne and his signature cologne an intoxicating mix.

"We did it!" He murmured, his voice filled with emotion.

"You did it!" You corrected, pulling back to cup his face. "I'm so proud of you."

Everyone was engaged in their own celebrations as he took your hand. He led you away from the loud crowd, a silent understanding passing between you. As you slipped inside his driver's room, he locked the door behind him, a thrill of nervousness ran through you.

He closed the distance between you, his eyes roaming your face before settling on your lips. With a tender touch, he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing a seductive path across your lips.

"Please!" He pleaded, his voice low and urgent. "Just this once…" You knew exactly what he craved.

"Lando--" You began.

"Please!" He repeated, his voice laced with a desperation that mirrored your own.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. A part of you, the part that had spent months pushing him away, hesitated. But the other part yearned to give in. You nodded.

He cupped your face in his hands and pressed you against the wall. The next moment, his lips were on yours, the taste of champagne a sweet surprise against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. You clung to his fireproof shirt. The world melted away, replaced by the intoxicating sensation of his lips moving against yours. All the reasons you'd held back faded away.

But just as the kiss deepened, a knock on the door jolted you both back to reality. You broke away, gasping for breath.

Lando groaned. "Yeah?" The voice from the other side told him they were expecting him. Lando rolled his eyes. "Just give me a minute."

When you heard the footsteps fade away, you reached for the doorknob, but Lando's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist.

"Stop it, Lando." You whispered.

"Don't!" He pleaded. "You can't tell me you didn't like it. I could feel it, Y/N. Don't deny it."

"I'm not denying it." You admitted your voice barely a whisper. "But you know why this can't happen."

Lando's jaw clenched. "It's NOT inappropriate! Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I waited this long for my first win. I can wait for you, just as long."

He cupped your jaw and before you could react, he leaned in and kissed the corner of your lips. He unlocked the door in one swift motion and stepped out, leaving you breathless.

You'd politely declined Lando's after-party invitation at the strip club near the hotel. You weren't the nightclub type, and deep down, Lando knew that. You assured him that you hadn't rejected it because of the kiss, but the way the call ended, left a pit in your stomach.

"He's mad! I know it." You mumbled to Oscar, who sat beside you at the hotel bar. The rest of the team was split between a game of darts in the back and loud conversations over drinks by the pool. "He didn't say 'bye, love' or 'see you later, beautiful', we just said bye."

Oscar facepalmed as he looked at his drunk best friend rambling about their mutual friend who was likely doing the same thing at the party.

"You're his friend, Y/N, not his girlfriend." He teased, sending a blush creeping up your cheeks. You stammered a reply, but the words got tangled up in your throat. "He's probably getting lucky tonight." He continued. "Deserves it after that win."

The implication hit you like a punch to the gut. "Lucky? You think he'll...?"

A mischievous glint danced in Oscar's eyes. "Oh, absolutely."

You downed the last of your drink, feeling a hollowness in your chest. "Good for him." You mumbled, the words lacking conviction.

Oscar groaned, frustration etching lines on his forehead. "Jesus, Y/N! The only girl he wants to get lucky with is you. Stop playing these mind games and making yourselves miserable!"

You rested your head on your hand, a wave of emotions crashing over you. "Oscar," You confessed, looking him straight in the eye. "I really like him. Like, never liked anyone this way before."

A slow smile spread across his face. "Then do something about it."

Lando was having the best time of his life, celebrating his first win with his friends. He felt his chest vibrate with every beat of the bass, as he laughed with his friends. Despite the fun he was having, he was also experiencing a dull ache. Your absence stood out.

He'd downed a few too many drinks to drown the disappointment steaming inside. When you declined the club invitation, his frustration boiled over into a harsh goodbye, which he quickly regretted.

"Did you see who just walked in?" Max shouted into his ear over the loud music.

"What?" Max pointed towards the entrance, causing a frown to appear on Lando's forehead.

Your arrival sent a jolt through him, he felt a surge of adrenaline and his earlier frustration vanished as a smile stretched across his face.

"Go get your girl, champ!" Max patted his shoulder with a wink.

Lando needed no further encouragement. He navigated his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed on you.

You scanned the room with a hint of apprehension. Even in your tipsy state, a voice of reason whispered in your head, questioning this impulsive move.

Just as you turned to leave, a warm hand closed around your wrist. You didn't need to see his face to know who it was. His familiar touch sent a familiar spark across your skin.

He wore a playful smirk, but his eyes held a hint of concern. "I thought you weren't coming."

You tried to appear casual, but your voice betrayed you. "I wasn't."

"How much did you have to drink?" He asked you, and you furrowed your eyebrows. How did he know what you had been doing? You stuttered in response, unsure of what to say. "Did Oscar let you come here drunk?"

"I'm not drunk! And how do you know I've been drinking?"

"Then why the sudden change of heart?" His gaze softened, searching your face. "And Oscar's been keeping me updated."

"Why doe--"

"Why are you here, Y/n?" He asked you.

You felt your face getting hot as you looked around the club, the among of bodies suddenly overwhelming. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, the words catching in your tight throat. "I need a drink."

As you made your way towards the bar, Lando followed closely behind. You approached the counter and asked the bartender for a drink. He nodded and began to mix your order. Lando stood by your side, looking a you.

"How did you get here? Does Oscar know?" The concern in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded and then drank the entire drink that was placed in front of you all at once. "Yes. He called me an Uber and told the guy to drop me here." Lando looked surprised as he noticed the empty glass in your hand. You hadn't intended to drink it so quickly, but your nerves got the best of you.

"Whoa, slow down there."

"I thought you wanted to celebrate!" You said to him as the bartender handed you another drink. You took it and walked away. Lando's face was adorned with a smile, but worry still lingered in his mind. Despite that, there was a sense of happiness as the night was finally complete.

You leaned heavily against Lando, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, as the elevator ride made you feel dizzy. He, somehow, seemed frustratingly sober.

"Hey," He chuckled, his voice warm despite the coolness of the metal walls. You managed a watery smile, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. "What are you thinking about?"

"Dogs." You mumbled. "Do you think they dream about bones?"

Lando's laugh filled the small space. "Maybe. I don't know beautiful."

"Do you think I'm beautiful?" You blurted out, smiling innocently.

He stopped in front of your room, his gaze holding yours. The concern that had flickered in his eyes earlier was gone, replaced by something more intense. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." A giggle erupted from your lips. Lando reacted instinctively, clapping a hand over your mouth. It was late, and the last thing they needed was a noise complaint. "Shh." He murmured. "Gotta be quiet, love."

You nodded. "Okay!"

"Where's your key?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation. You shrugged, the simple action requiring more effort than you cared to admit.

"Lando?" You whined. "Sleepy..."

He cursed under his breath, scanning the empty hallway. Walking up to the front desk for a key wasn't exactly his ideal scenario.

"Alright, you're coming with me." He said gently, scooping you up in his arms. A sleepy protest tumbled from your lips, but you clung to him instinctively as he carried you back towards the elevator.

"Can we go to the beach?" You mumbled as the doors closed.

"The beach will be there in the morning." He replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's almost five am."

A giggle escaped you. "Naked swim?"

He cleared his throat, the sound a little rough. You'd been a delightful firecracker all night, and he was struggling to keep his cool. "The shower's a much better option right now."

The elevator doors slid open, and with a sigh, he carried you out, your head chilling against his shoulder. He fumbled with his keycard, finally pushing the door open with his foot.

In the room, he gently laid you on the bed, the soft sheets making you relax and close your eyes.

For a moment, he stood there, watching you. The urge to pull you close, to feel your warmth against him, was killing him. But your vulnerability state held him back.

"Hey, love?" He said softly, his voice laced with concern. "Can I take off your shoes?"

You mumbled something incomprehensible but managed a weak nod. He carefully removed your heels, his fingers brushing against your ankle for a fleeting moment that sent a jolt through him.

"Maybe a shower would be good." He suggested, his voice gruff. "You'll sleep better."

"With you?" She asked him, excited.

Lando, still feeling the effects of alcohol, ran his fingers through his hair, feeling hot.

"You can't imagine how much I want to say yes... But no, not tonight." You pouted. Grabbing your hands, he pulled you up. "Ask me again tomorrow!"

He gently led you to the bathroom and helped you sit down. He waited for the water to warm up, and when it was ready, he turned around. Suddenly, Lando's breath caught in his throat.

Without him realising, you had taken off your clothes. You stood bathed in the soft glow, vulnerability etched on your face, wearing only your black lace lingerie.

He tore his gaze from you. His heart beat a frantic rhythm against his ribs, mimicking the feel of the alcohol in his veins. Only if you weren't drunk...

"Are you okay?" Your voice was so gentle and innocent, nothing like it normally sounded. You reached out and touched his back. He flinched the innocent gesture a powerful trigger for his already steaming desire.

"Y/N, please!" He pleaded. "If you keep touching me..." The sentence trailed off, the implication hanging heavy in the air. The more he looked at you, the more his willpower crumbled. Shame washed over him. "Love, just take a shower. You need to sober up." He gestured to a pile of clothes on the counter. "There are some of mine there. I'll be outside when you're done."

You stayed in the shower for a while, the hot water feeling good against your skin. You weren't completely sober, the world still held a gentle sway, but the edge of drunkenness had dimmed.

Stepping out, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel Lando had left out.

As you dried your hair, you caught your reflection in the mirror. Even in the state of mind you were, you knew you were going to regret it in the morning. You put on the clothes he had left you and shoved the feeling down.

Lando, scrolling through his phone on the bed, looked up when the bathroom door creaked open. Relief washed over him as he saw you wrapped in his clothes.

"Feeling better?" He asked. You offered a small nod, leaning weakly against the doorframe. The playful energy that had fueled you earlier had dimmed, replaced by exhaustion. "Good!" He said, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sleepy?" You simply nodded again. He cleared his throat, the silence growing heavy in the room. "So... Are you comfortable sharing the bed, or...?"

"It's fine." You mumbled. A playful glint flickered in your eyes. "And I promise I won't, uh, bite."

Lando chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Don't get me wrong, love," He said, his voice dropping to a raspy whisper. "You could do whatever you wanted most nights, believe me. But not tonight."

He gestured to the empty spot beside him on the bed, inviting you to join him, an unspoken tension lingering in the air.

You waddled across the room, the oversized t-shirt hanging loosely on your body. Climbing onto the bed, you scooted closer to him, a nervous feeling running through you, despite the lingering effects of the alcohol still dancing through your veins.

"Can we at least...?" You trailed off, your voice barely a whisper. "You know... a goodnight kiss?

"You're a menace when you're drunk, you know that?" He teased, a playful sparkle in his eyes.

You batted your eyelashes in a way you knew usually worked. He sighed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Alright, alright!" He complied. "But on the cheek. Lips are off-limits tonight."

You couldn't help the grin that spread across your face. As he leaned in, the faint scent of his cologne filled your senses. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

"Goodnight, Y/N!" He murmured, his voice sending a flutter to your heart. "Hope you'll remember this tomorrow morning."

"Goodnight, race winner." You replied, a hint of sleepiness in your voice.

Sunlight pierced through the blinds, finding your eyelids and forcing them open with a groan. Your head felt like a maraca that had been shaken all night, and your mouth tasted like a desert. Sitting up cautiously, you winced at the throbbing in the back of your head.

Memories and fragments started to come back. The kiss, the club, the dancing, Lando's strong arm around you... and then... a complete blank. Panic started to rise in your chest. What had you done? Had you said something stupid or done something worse?

The bedroom door creaked open and Lando entered, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. He looked like a vision with his rumpled hair and a smile breaking out on his face as soon as he saw you awake.

"Good morning, sunshine!" He said, his voice sounding awful to your pounding head.

"Don't yell!" You mumbled. "Water?"

He chuckled, handing you a bottle of water. He sat on the edge of the bed, his concern evident in his eyes. You took a grateful sip, the cool liquid easing the dryness in your throat.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" He asked you, sitting on the edge of the bed, his concern evident in his eyes.

You took a deep breath. "I remember... bits and pieces." You admitted, shame creeping up your cheeks. "Lando, I am sorry if I did something or said something wrong... I must have been awful. I was very, very drunk."

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I wish you felt that comfortable around me all the time." Lando reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch sent a jolt through you. "You know how much I like you... Y/n, I'm in love with you."

Your heart hammered against your ribs at his confession. A real and pure confession.

"Lando--" You breathed, your voice thick with emotion.

He took your hand in his, his eyes filled with a gentle understanding. "I know..." He said, his voice a soothing balm. "Just know that I'll wait for you. However long it takes." He squeezed your hand.

Tears welled up in your eyes. The years of running, of pushing him away, suddenly seemed pointless. All you wanted was to be here, with him.

Leaning forward, you met his gaze. Then, you cupped his face gently and placed a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. It was a kiss filled with apology and relief.

"I'm tired of running." You whispered against his lips. "I'm in love with you too. I've always have."

Lando couldn't help but grin as you hugged him. First, the win, then the kiss and now the girl of his dreams confessing her feelings. Yeah, you could definitely say it was a very good day for Lando No Wins.

"I love you, Y/n." You smiled, a genuine, heart-melting smile.

"I love you too, Lando." You knew, at that moment, hugging the person you had been in love with for years, that you were finally home.

#lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 fic #lando norris imagine

173 notes · View notes

euryite · 1 day

Note

Could you please write about first years x really tall reader who is above 6 feet? I'm talking 6'4 - 6'8 🙏🙏🙏 love your writings sm <3

he needs some milk

syn. in which you humble the NRC first years with sheer power (height).

gn!yuu

ACE TRAPPOLA

he’d probably invite you to the basketball club. sorry but i’m right, i’m the writer here. he would.

if you did join, good for you! you can enjoy your time together. kinda.

if you didn’t, though, i’m sorry for you- because this man will literally ask you everyday.

outside of that though, he’s—

actually, he’s still not that good.

Ace would say he’s a fair person. He doesn’t do anything wrong, he was never rude; honestly? He’s sure he’s a saint.

You, carrying him on your shoulders, would like to say otherwise.

“Uhm, Ace,” you start, sighing exasperatedly before you continue, “why the heck are you on my shoulders? And why do we need to beat up Deuce?”

Ace scoffs haughtily at you, waving his shoulders and causing you to waver a bit, you weren’t really made for carrying others.

“I’m on your shoulders because we need to beat up Deuce. We’re gonna intimidate him.” The redhead responds, as if anything he said makes sense.

“Ace, what the hell.”

DEUCE SPADE

he’s pretty normal about it. perchance. maybe not.

he probably also assumes you’re good at sports. long legs do have that effect on most people, i guess.

it’s not like he’s a short guy, so he doesn’t really need your help with anything.

he likes to think he doesn’t really care about your height, but you know otherwise.

it’s not like the dude would make fun of you— unlike a certain someone—, so you don’t really have to worry.

You find it kinda funny how Deuce always tries to look like he doesn’t have to crane his neck up to see your face.

Scratch that, it’s really funny. He’s looking up, but his eyes are kinda looking down. What, is he trying to convince himself there isn’t a difference or something?

Actually, yeah, sounds about right.

Another thing you find funny is the fact that somehow, even with your towering height, Deuce is more intimidating than you. It’s not like you really put any effort into being scary, but it was just a little offensive!

JACK HOWL

the poor guy experiences culture shock. lol.

he’s been the taller person for, like, most of his life.

imagine his shock when seeing you, a— sorry— rather plain human, being taller. by more than just a little bit.

imagine his shock when he lends his clothes to you, and they don’t even look that big! (unless you’re on the lanky, idia shroud side of tall. but still).

other than a mild and short-lived shock, he just doesn’t really care.

doesn’t seem like the kinda guy to.

you two, together, though? killer combo.

“Uhm.. We said we’re sorry—” the brown-haired 3rd year said, backing up slowly while the two second years behind him quivered— which was funny considering their rugged appearances.

But like, if two people who were well over 6 feet tall just walked up to you in the middle of lunch, demanding you “give grim back his chicken sandwich”, wouldn’t you be pretty scared?!

They didn’t even take it—

“Uhm,” the dark purple haired 2nd year hiding behind the 3rd year squeaks out (sounding very weird considering his deep voice), “I took it. I apologize!”

Oh!

…

All this, and for a literal chicken sandwich that was, what, 15 madol? That isn’t even expensive!

EPEL FELMIER

i’d like to apologize to epel in advance because it would actually look so hilarious to see you two together.

it’d be even funnier if, between the two of you, you were the calmer one.

if you were the babygirl, so to speak.

there’s not much more to say than that the whiplash seeing you two together could kill a small cat.

When you think of a short student in NRC, the first person that usually comes to mind is Epel Felmier.

The boy in question doesn’t appreciate that.

And when you think of a tall student in NRC— well, a lot come to mind but one of the few most prominent is the Ramshackle prefect.

The prefect in question doesn’t really care.

And therein lies the issue. You don’t care about who is tall and who isn’t, but Epel does care. Very much so.

He eventually learns to be fine with being seen around you, though, even if it does mean his own height comes in comparison with yours.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

a ‘weak human’.. being around his height? or taller?

culture shock 2.0. i feel so bad for him.

if he were any lesser person, he’d have attempted to recruit you to be a knight.

you’re a weak human, though, so he didn’t. 🤗

be grateful!

are you taller than malleus? you are, right? terrifying.

sebek would ask you to shrink.. sorry, but it’s true.

“WEAK HUMAN!” and just like that, your ears are broken. You don’t even know how you handle him screaming at this volume all the time. You’re dying, Lilia, help.

You look down (scary stuff) to meet his eyes, and he immediately starts talking.

“I’VE NOTICED—“

“Shh, keep it down.”

“Ahem, I’ve noticed that you are taller than the Young Master, so, I humbly request you shrink!”

…

Man, what the fuck.

#“he is half of my soul.” ; my writing #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade #jack howl x reader #jack howl #epel felmier x reader #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt #screams #disney twisted wonderland #twst yuu

130 notes · View notes

milqueandsugar · 3 days

Note

What if,, a band/artist rivalry between Adam and reader?

Since Adam outright says he's in a band in the first episode,, let's say that there's a rising artist who making themselves big in the music industry in Heaven, maybe even the same genre that Adam's band is in, and he gets ticked off.

So out of curiosity, he goes to one of their concerts (presumably to judge the music itself) but then when they start playing, he's just kinda.. in disbelief. Like the music is good?? And the person singing is hot??

Idk that would be something cool and funny to read,, love your stuff btw, been following since like last year 🙏🙏 I'll be 🥐 anon if that's cool and not taken ofc!

🌼☕` Your Tea Is Ready `☕🌼

Gen / Fluff

Includes / Adam

A/n - thanks for following for so so long! This was fun to write!

| Adam/Rival!Reader|

Listen, alright he only went to investigate

Too see what it was that made you sooo much of a competitor, because upon first glance there was nothing that interesting about you

Like you had cool clothes and hair he wanted to run his hands through, and the most kissable lips he's ever seen, and you pretty much sweated sex appeal but like you were THAT cool

So he takes the chance when an opportunity arises to get seats for your show, he'll take the scolding for the expensive purchase from lute later, the information he could gather was worth far more than any currency

So he goes, fights through the crowd for drinks and then fights through the crowd again to get to his spot

Your fans are insane, thats the first thing, like he's used to fans throwing bras and underwear on stage but these people are screaming and cheering for you like you were on stage, the openers hadn't even started yet wtf was going on??

The crowd hype was real though and by time the openers, who were mid, closed he was feeling the buzz of excitement the crowd carried

It was contagious and his ailment of adrenaline was only worsened when you came on stage and started your first song

Fuck

Yeah he got the appeal

Seeing someone so confident, so in love with their passion made him fall equally in love with you, those are like the two sexiest things and angel can have and you've got them falling out of your pockets babe!!

He buys more tickets to up coming shows and a shit ton of merch while leaving the venue, he would have done it during the show but he couldn't tear his eyes away often enough to blink let alone do anything else

Any sense of envy or competiriveness? Gone, just like the money from his wallet

He only realizes when he's considering buying a signed shirt that he's acting like one of HIS groupies

Oh no

Decides then he needs to quit, you have a sick band, he respects you and has all your songs on vinyl and on his phone but he's not some fucking low life that stalks their celebrity crushes all right?

I mean he's going to keep the merch but hey it might be valuable one day!!

And he'll go see the shows for the tickets he already bought but otherwise it'd just be a waste so whatever it's totally normal

This is such normal behavior, just, be cautious if you ever mention HIS band in a positive light on social or in an interview, he is already heavily considering buying some back stage passes don't force his hand now, come on

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #adam x you #adam x y/n #adam headcanons #adam imagines #adam x reader

97 notes · View notes

rawmeknockout · 2 days

Note

Give me more CILF (Creator I'd like to fuck) writing! Please, I beg of you!

an assortment!

Rodimus is the young, hot, eager- to-please Captain that wants to spark you up soooo bad. There's just something so hot about the way you care so fiercely for your sparkling, it really gets his engine revving. He knows he's younger than you, but that doesn't make him any less of a mech! In fact, he's got all the energy and stamina a sire could need to look after any (potential) future sparklings you might have together. He's always looking to impress you, almost tripping over himself to prove he's the mech for you. Drift has heard enough of his delulu daydreams about how much he'd like to give you another. He's always been attracted to older mechs (hard not to be when your entire population is as long-lived as Cybertronians. He may be your boss, a headstrong and over-confident sort of guy, but he could be gentle if you wanted him to be! Let him show you!

Megatron is much quieter in his appreciation of you. It's not that the thought hasn't crossed his mind that you would look SO good carrying his sparkling, it's just that he's well aware how awful a decision that would be. Doesn't stop him from cranking his shaft to the idea. He's perfectly happy to look after the sparkling you already have when you need a break. Some might say he's the very last mech that should be in charge of looking after a sparkling, but he believes that some Autobots are far too self-sacrificing. Sure, he's now committed to the Autobots, but he still holds his personal belief that Cybertronians have value far greater than any self-perceived benefit to others. He will teach your sparkling that they exist first for themselves and for no other to take advantage of: be it a system or an individual. It just sort of helps that looking after your sparkling and ingratiating himself to them also puts him in closer proximity to you.

Ratchet won't ever admit it but the prospect of having a sparkling has always been so tempting for him. Of course, he was never in any position to have a sparkling of his own, first with his practice in Dead End and then the war, and now that he's quite a bit older the chances of that have gone down tremendously. In fact, he sees it as almost bordering on negligent to conceive one. But when he sees you with your sparkling his fantasies and daydreams of a domestic life come surging to the forefront of his processor. It's hard not to feel envy towards you, even if you're forced to care for your sparkling alone, but he tries to stamp out those feelings. You're not deserving of his resentment because he chose not to have bitlets. When he gets to know you better he feels all the worse for having been envious of you, and incredibly grateful that you would let him look after your sparkling. Even if the bitlet isn't his, Ratchet is attached to your offspring like no other and is always fussing after their (and your) care. If Drift notices a difference in Ratchet's demeanor, a certain wistfulness about him, he doesn't bring it up. He knows Ratchet would simply be reluctant to give himself what he wants, although Ratchet carrying the sparkling isn't the only option...

Whirl thinks it's hot. Okay, sure he thinks a lot of things are sexy that aren't supposed to be (that one time Brainstorm's optic was hanging from the socket, for example) but this one of normal! He insists. It's not everyday you meet a Cybertronian who has carried their own offspring. It's sort of an uncommon practice and definitely the most dangerous given the alternatives, but that's part of what makes it so sexy. Rung has informed him that is, actually, a little fucked up (not his words). Whirl would like to know what you looked like carrying. Not every carrier's frame will change drastically, in fact many don't if their armor is bulky enough, but maybe yours did. The fact your frame is so... powerful in a sense, resilient, and durable is kind of a turn on for him. But then again, Whirl gets heated if there's a gun pointed at him, so maybe it is fucked up. Your frame went through all the taxing processes of creating another Cybertronian, and you didn't die! What he wouldn't give to put your frame through it's paces again... Ultra Magnus has gently tried to convince you to get a restraining order against Whirl.

80 notes · View notes

khaire-traveler · 2 days

Note

This is so stupid and you probably can't but can you help me find the deity that fits me? I stopped worshipping three bc I just didn't have a bond with them

Hey, Nonny!

I'm certain I've answered a very similar question recently, but for the life of me, I can't seem to find the post. 💀 I'm just going to restate the information I remember giving, since I can't link it. I obviously can't know which deity you'll feel a connection to, but I'll give the best advice I can think of to hopefully offer you a place to start.

The first thing I'd do is make a list of things that genuinely interest you. I'm talking about hobbies, passions, inspirations, interests, topics you study - that kind of thing. After that, make a list of things you feel you need help with or would like to personally work on. Habits you'd like to stop, flaws you'd like to improve on, traits you want to strengthen, goals you want to achieve, current struggles that you're facing - that sort of thing. You can be as detailed or simple as you want; these lists don't have to be super long or fancy.

The next thing I'd do is look into the deities within the pantheon I'm interested in. Search terms like "Greek god of medicine", for example, and you're likely to find at least one result. I would try to keep your search terms broad, however; I wouldn't search up extremely niche topics. If you can't find anything under those search terms, look up a general list of the deities within that pantheon and go through them. Look at any names that seem to stick out to you more than the others. This part of the process would likely take the most time and effort.

After that, I'd make a list of the deities that interest me. Try to look at deities who are involved with the topics you enjoy or could potentially help you with whatever you want to work on. For example, let's say you enjoy writing. You may want to try reaching out to Lord Hermes, who has a domain within language and communication. You could also reach out to one of the Muses, who often aid with creative endeavors. Try finding deities that are related to the topics that you made lists for, and see what you've got.

When the list of deities is made, I'd start reaching out! Reach out to the deities who call to you the most to start. Which names stand out to you? Which deities are the most involved with your interests? Look for deities you think you'd get along well with.

I will say that it's important to remember that bonds take time to form. You're not likely to find a deity you just immediately click with; it tends to take time to form a deep and strong connection. Sometimes we do find a deity who we feel a more immediate bond with or feel called to worship, but that's not always the case, and that's entirely normal. Just like any human relationship, deity relationships develop over time with lots of care, communication, and time spent together.

The last thing I want to mention is that you're also welcome to worship deities just because you think they're cool. You don't need any other reason than that to simply reach out and say hello. Every deity I've met seems to enjoy having a worshipper who truly appreciates them. c:

I hope this is helpful and can offer you some guidance on where you can try to start! At the end of the day, this is just a suggestion, and you absolutely don't have to do things this way if you don't find it helpful. Regardless, I wish you the best of luck on this new journey. Take care, and I'm sure you'll find a deity you feel a connection to soon. Have a good day/night. 🧡

#scheduled post #anon asks #answered asks

46 notes · View notes

shslbunnylover · 2 days

Note

hello honey! saw a masterlist for Marilyn T. was put up and you don't have to take this request if its too much!! can you write teacher/student dynamic where Marilyn takes reader on the couch? Reader could maybe be riding Marilyns thigh as she fingers her? thank you!!

★★★𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙎𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡★★★

Character: Marilyn Thornhill

Summary: See ask above!

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1 (Message me to be a part of the taglist until I get a page set up!!)

Trigger warnings (DL DI): NSFW, vaginal fingering (Marylin receiving), thigh riding (Reader receiving), praise kink, age gap (Marilyn is 32, Reader is 21), dom/sub dynamics (Marylin top/Reader bottom), teacher/student dynamics, slight overstimulation, a bit of a choking kink,

Genre: Smut

A/n: Sorry this took so long, Anon! I suffered a creative block, but thank you for being patient!

Word count: 3.6k

...

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you entered the empty classroom of your favorite teacher, your body adjusting to the slight temperature change in the room that kept the plants inside healthy. You slid off your jacket and tossed it carelessly onto a nearby stack of chairs that Marilyn had kept in case her class had any extra people coming to listen to her lectures, but those people were rare.

The room was quiet, the walls painted a soft sky-blue color that always managed to put you at ease no matter what had occurred before entering the space. With the capri walls decorated with posters detailing the anatomy of different species of plant and the main rules of botany such as the differences between vascular and nonvascular organisms, the room was decorated like any typical college science classroom would be, the only thing truly bringing a warm and comforting aura being the person who sat at the desk in the front of the classroom.

Plants decorated the counters on the perimeter of the classroom, ranging from anything as simple as Aloe Vera to the more complex botany subjects like cyclamens and amaryllises. You had grown a couple with Marilyn during office hours and even during classes, and those were the ones she had most proudly displayed on her counters and even one sitting on her desk. The beautiful red petals of the amaryllis you had grown with her over the 3 years you had attended her class, and the 1 year you had been dating, brought a warmth to your cheeks that could have matched the plant's corolla.

You dusted off your skirt and walked over to Marilyn's desk as you gently sat on the edge of it, waiting for the redhead to make her way into the room for the "meeting" you two were supposed to have. In the meantime, you kept busy by reading off the posters on her walls, despite knowing everything about them. After all, you were her best student in more ways than one.

The words on the distant posters soon blurred together as your eyes lost their focus, your mind only thinking of what would happen once your girlfriend arrived. Would she just propose a sweet and simple date idea? Would she help you out with your classwork? Or would she do something else entirely? You prayed it to be anything but the classwork, as you knew you wouldn't get special treatment, she never played favorites when it came to grades after all. You didn't have to worry about that though, you were good at botany, and having a hot teacher you wanted to impress certainly helped boost your grades.

You thought for a couple of minutes, thinking about the woman you loved with your entire being. Her hair, how it so beautifully would gently caress her shoulders as she moved throughout the classroom. Her face, the expressions she'd make whenever you brought her a surprise or brought her over the edge. Everything about the woman filled your head seemingly out of nowhere, and it got your heart racing much quicker than what you considered to be normal. You were a botany major after all, not a cardiology one, so you weren't certain about what was normal and what wasn't, but you knew that your current heart rate fell into the latter category.

As the clock ticked audibly and you saw it reach 4:00, your thighs pressed together in slight annoyance. She was late. Normally you wouldn't mind, but now that you had been thinking about her so long that it got you riled up, you didn't want to wait a second longer to finally pounce on her.

Your mind just couldn't shake the concept of her taking you on her thigh, and you making her moan with your fingers. You weren't sure when your thoughts had become this lewd all of a sudden, but God were you enjoying the feeling in between your legs that came with it.

God, everything about that woman made you riled up. The way her slender fingers curled around her pencils the same way they curled around your neck. The way she punctuated words in her everyday speech just like how she'd punctuate her title to you as you rode her. But what got you the most was the way she would wrap her pretty lips around the cap around her pen to help her focus, like when she would suck her juices off your fingers or vice-versa.

Everything at this point was turning you on the more you thought of her.

You wanted her.

No- You needed her.

You needed to ride her thigh, have her choke you, and leave hickeys all across your neck so everyone knew you were hers. The ache in between your legs was nothing but a symptom of the thoughts in your head that were begging to be cured.

Only your girlfriend knew the way to release the empty feeling in your core, it always managed to surprise you how she knew your own body more than you did.

But after all, she always said that she knew what was best when it came to that pretty cunt of yours.

Your brain continued to think, the thoughts becoming more and more vulgar and inappropriate the longer you were left without the redhead. The fantasies in your mind eventually became so infatuated that you hadn't even noticed when the older teacher walked inside.

"Earth to Y/n?" Your girlfriend's voice called out; amusement laced deep into her voice.

"H-Huh? Oh! Mari!" You shook yourself out of your dirty daydreams to launch yourself onto the redhead whom you had been waiting on.

"Hello baby," She cooed softly. "Sorry I'm late, Dean Weems kept me for a bit longer than I appreciated,"

"It's okay, you can make it up to me later," You replied, wrapping your arms around her waist and kissing her passionately when you ended that sentence.

The taste of her was ravishing for you. You had been practically starved of her all day since she had been at a meeting and had her TA teach the class instead. Mixing that with your now heightened libido, you felt yourself kissing and tasting her as if you'd never see her again.

Marilyn chuckled at your sudden and obvious want for her as she pulled away for air.

"Someone missed me~" She teased. "Did you not enjoy today's class without me here? Hm?"

You smiled nervously, a warmth to your cheeks appearing.

"No, it was so boring," You shrunk into yourself a little bit, looking down at your shoes as you put your hands behind your back and rocked on the soles of your feet.

Marilyn smirked in reply, caressing your cheek with her soft hand that immediately helped to ease your need for her...at least a little bit.

She tutted before sucking her bottom lip behind her teeth, admiring you with her soft hazel eyes that always managed to captivate you.

"But did my TA do a good job today? I need to make sure I won't need to have a word with him," The older woman hummed whilst looking at you expectantly, after all, you always paid attention in class. So, you should know the answer to that, right?

"I think so," You shrugged, internally begging Marilyn to just skip the small talk about class and to help the heat pulsing in your cunt.

"That's not a definite answer honey," Your girlfriend chuckled, her soft laugh turning a bit darker as she slowly began to figure out what was going on with you.

"I don't know, I wasn't paying attention," You shrugged, rolling your eyes a bit as you continued to try and kiss her, only to be pushed away by the redhead.

Marilyn chuckled once more, giving your body a once-over before cupping your chin to keep you in place.

"And why is that? You're my best student. You should know to be a good girl and pay attention even with a substitute," Marilyn said in amusement.

You let out a whine as you felt yourself being separated from your lover, obviously not appreciating how much of a tease Marilyn was being.

"I was just tired, and...you make the class much more fun...He just talked and talked..." You replied, pouting slightly now.

"Awe...did my baby not have a good time in class? Is that why you're being all clingy to me now? Since you missed me so much and haven't seen me all day?" Marilyn asked, her tone becoming more torturing and instigating as her lips formed a small smirk on her face.

You broke away from her grip, kissing your girlfriend as fast as possible in a mix of pure need and starvation, soft whimpers escaping both of your lips when they finally collided.

The kiss lasted no more than a few seconds. After all, you weren't the one in charge here. Marilyn was.

"So you are starved...aren't you baby girl? Need your teacher to fix that little problem of yours?" She hummed with dominance and a mix of lust and love in her voice, her hand falling from your ass to cup your heated sex.

Your breath caught in your throat, only a whimper managing to escape as her fingers poked the cloth, teasing you and making you so frustrated because you knew they wouldn't go in and make you feel full.

"Mari-" You moaned quietly, her hand retracting from your clothed pussy to wrap around your neck.

"What's my name?" She cocked an eyebrow. "And don't get all shy on me now and act like this is some big surprise, you didn't do a good job of hiding how turned on you are,"

"Sorry, Miss Thornhill," You replied weakly, your brain in a love-drunk dazed as you looked down at her arm that held the hand choking you softly.

"That's a good girl..." Marilyn asserted, letting go of you and listening to you whine from the loss of her touch with a smug look on her face.

You started at her, your thighs already clenching and your chest heaving, God you looked ripe for the taking.

"Please- Please I need you," You whimpered, going back to try and cling to her. "I haven't seen you all day and I just want you,"

The redhead chuckled darkly, shrugging off her blazer and tossing it over to where you had chucked your jacket earlier.

"Oh, I know, darling. You haven't done a good job at keeping how wet you are under wraps," She laughed, holding onto your shoulders to keep you still.

"Then why are you teasing me?" You whined, huffing as your arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Because it's funny to watch your little face get all frustrated," Marilyn replied with a fat smirk on her face.

"You're the worst," You groaned, leaning forward to cling to your older girlfriend.

Marilyn simply laughed once more, pushing you off of her.

"Now..." She began, sitting down on her desk chair and patting her thigh softly. "Go lock the door and straddle those pretty little legs around me, okay baby?"

You couldn't have moved faster as you practically sprinted to the doorknob and twisted the lock before walking up to your girlfriend and straddling her thigh, just like she asked.

Marilyn snickered darkly under her breath, cupping your ass with her hands as she took your lips in hers, sucking every last moan out of you whilst squeezing the soft tender flesh of your ass.

"Look at you," She broke the kiss, moving to your neck. "Such a beautiful little student, how'd I manage to lure such a gorgeous thing into my bed?"

"Because you're hot as hell..." You groaned in reply, pulling at your teacher's blazer to bring her warmth closer to you.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, little one," The redhead smirked before leaving a noticeable hickey on your clavicle. "I think I've teased you enough, why don't I give you a reward for being such a good girl?"

You nodded almost immediately, you knew how pathetic you looked, straddling your teacher's lap and begging for her to make you feel good, begging for her to relieve your aching cunt of the empty feeling it had been carrying.

"Please, I've been good, please!" You begged, wrapping your arms around Marilyn's shoulders and looking up at her with your best puppy dog eyes.

"Of course, plus, I need to get off as well," Marilyn licked her lips.

Marilyn sat there for a few moments, examining your body with her eyes, each curve, each time your chest raised to take a breath, and every other tiny detail about your body.

"Take this off," She suddenly instructed, referring to her pants.

You swiftly moved to take off her belt, throwing it off of her body before sliding off her black work pants, revealing a beautiful pair of legs and a wet pair of black underwear.

"You're gorgeous, Miss Thornhill," You breathed out, settling yourself back on her thigh.

"Thank you, baby. But you can compliment me later. For now, I want you to take off both of our underwear," The older woman purred, watching as you scrambled to follow her directions.

"Yes Miss Thornhill..." You replied almost at the same time she finished her demand, having already tossed both of your soaked pairs of underwear with her belt and pants.

"Good girl..." Marilyn nodded, placing her hands on your hips, allowing your wet cunt to rub up against her thigh perfectly. "Now use your fingers and make me cum, and I'll take care of your little problem,"

"Yes- Yes, Miss-" You bit back a moan, your fingers falling to her now-dripping pussy.

Marilyn let out a soft moan as your finger teased her entrance, gliding over her slick mound before finally penetrating her core with your digit. Her walls clenched down against your finger, only giving you more of a challenge to stretch her around you.

"Fuck...Good girl..." She repeated, grabbing your hips and moving your cunt up and down on her thigh, angling her leg so that your sensitive clit would be affected by her movements as well.

Shivers shot up your body, bucking your hips.

Just the simple movements of this woman, her voice telling you just how much of a good girl you were for her. It had you going crazy.

"A-Ah-" You whimpered, grinding your pussy against her skin, your clit and hole desperate to get off after hours of being denied of your girlfriend's presence.

Her hands felt so in control as if you were stuck that way. She was always in charge, and that somehow sent more shivers up your spine. Her hands pulled your hips along her, her sharp green eyes watching as your cum was painted across her thigh.

Up and down.

Up...and down...

"Yeah...that's right baby, let me hear you, let me hear just how good I'm making you feel with just my thigh," Marilyn purred, wrapping her hand around your neck gently, moving her other hand to hold you just above your ass to guide you against her thigh.

"Fuck- Feels so g-good-" You breathed, your legs shaking the more your body melted into the older woman's.

Your hand continued to slide in and out of Marilyn's cunt, the warm white liquid coming out of her pussy trailing down your fingers as it only increased with the pleasure you gave her.

"Good girl...such a good girl- You're doing so good for me- Such a perfect little student...Fuck-" The redhead groaned, her walls fluttering around your digits as she tried to keep her composure, continuing to glide your cunt up and down her thigh.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, your chest heaving up and down while your legs trembled.

"I need you- Please- More-" You whined, moving your hips quicker as you slowly moved another finger inside your girlfriend.

"Ah, shit~!" Marilyn winced in pleasure, tensing her grip on your throat as she moved your body, her gentle guidance slowly turning into practically manhandling. "Don't stop, Y/n! Keep going- Don't stop-"

Her voice- God it had you wrapped around her finger. Her whines, her soft whimpers, begging you not to stop with the promise of a reward, it was all so much for you.

The world around you disappeared, your eyes going blurry, the only thing on your mind was the pleasure coursing through your veins and the sensation of your nimble digits filling your teacher's cunt.

"Please- Just like that! Fuck you're such a good little girl- Such a good student- Fuck- FucKK-!" The older woman's breathing increased, her thigh tensing up to elect a mewl from you.

The sounds of the base of your fingers hitting her cunt filled the room, mixed with your moans as the air around you began to smell like sex and sweat. Your bodies mixed as your cum soaked her thigh and her cum soaked your fingers.

But it's not enough.

You need to be surrounded by her.

The hand not fucking Marilyn senseless tears off the redhead's button-up shirt, and no more than a second later are your lips attached to her chest, sucking on her nipple as if you weren't to ever taste her again.

"Fuck- I'm the one in charge here, baby- Don't go trying to act all dominant-" Marilyn grunted, her voice a mix between a groan and a whimper.

"Just..." You leave a hickey on her breast. "Wanna make you..." Another hickey. "Feel good..."

A smirk is brought to her face, and she smirks before tearing off your shirt and moving both of her hands to grind your hips. She's the one in charge after all. Not you.

"Oh, and you're such a good girl for that..." She moaned, noticing how heavy your breathing had become and how close you were getting to reaching your climax.

Shiny prints of her lip gloss were left across your neck as she kissed your soft skin, leaving the occasional bite mark as her hands cupped at your ass, helping your poor body rut out all the pent-up sexual frustration.

"Fuck- Fuck Mari-" You whined, your vision going fuzzy as you rubbed your clit against her skin.

"Hm? What was that?" Marilyn teased, puckering her lips a little to rub in your slip-up.

"S-Sorry- Miss Thornhill-" You immediately corrected yourself, not wanting to get a punishment and have your orgasm delayed even further.

"Good girl," The redhead chuckled.

The praise brought you nearly over the edge, and your grip on your girlfriend only increased as you sped your pace up.

"Fuck- I'm close- Please- Please let me come-" You begged, your breathing becoming ragged the more your hips moved.

The lower part of your stomach felt as if it was being filled with a hot liquid, and your muscles tensed up, your walls wrapped around her fingers, pulsing each time Marilyn curled her fingers and rubbed your G-Spot.

"It's okay, beautiful, it's okay. Come with me, come with me. Fuck-!!" Marilyn gasped as you added a third finger into her cunt.

Your legs shook, her words guiding you through your orgasm as the familiar feeling of coming close to the edge of a climax coursed through your body

"Fuck! Fuck! Please! God damn it!" You cried, eyes rolling back into your head. "Please! Faster! Please Miss Thornhill!"

Marilyn shuddered at the sound of your moans, her orgasm fluttering throughout her veins. She quickly moved her leg and rubbed it against your heat, making sure to rub at your clit.

"God I'm gonna come- Please- God damn it!" You moaned as she brought you over the edge.

The warm fire in your belly pooled as your body went fuzzy, sweat pouring down your body as you rutted out the last bit of your orgasm. Ecstasy pumped through both of your bodies as soft moans left both of your lips.

The world was fuzzy once you opened your eyes, and you still had your fingers nestled in Marilyn's cunt as she spoke to you, her voice being muffled by the after-effects of your little "session" together.

"H-Huh? What did you say?" You mumbled, looking up at your girlfriend's sweat-covered face.

Marilyn chuckled, as she lifted your chin with her hand, causing you to gaze into her gorgeous hazel eyes.

"I said, are you okay baby?" She smirked, pulling her glasses to rest them on top of her head.

You nodded, slowly sliding your fingers out of her soaked pussy before licking each drop of her juices off of your digits.

"Mhm...yeah...Are you okay?" You repeated the question.

"Yeah, don't worry about me baby," Marilyn wiped a few drops of sweat off of your face.

The two of you sat in silence, nuzzling into each other's embrace, the silence only being broken after a few more minutes had passed.

"Why don't you come back to my place, pup? You can sit on my lap just like this while I grade some essays," Marilyn suggested, squeezing your bicep just a bit to knock you out of your daze once again.

You blushed a bit, you hadn’t ever come back to her place in the whole year you two had been dating, as it was just never convenient for the two of you.

“W-What? Are you sure?” You stuttered out, sitting up a bit straighter, your legs still shaking from the pleasure you had just experienced.

“Yeah, I’d say it’s about time, wouldn’t you, darling?” Marilyn purred, smiling down at you.

You paused for a moment, before nodding.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” You smiled.

You went to stand up, but Marilyn quickly scooped you up into her arms.

“Where do you think you’re going? You know you still have to get dressed,” She chuckled, sitting you down on her desk before picking up your clothes.

As she slowly and gently slid back on your underwear, you looked down at the woman taking care of your body, and you smiled.

‘How did I get so lucky with this placement?’

...

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

-Akira

#marilyn thornhill x reader #marilyn thornhill #tim burtons wendsday #Wednesday #wednesday netflix #wlw #wlw ns/fw #nblw #nblw ns/fw #wlw and nblw only #smut #fanfic

37 notes · View notes

sluckythewizard · 14 hours

Text

Keep calm, and drink soda

[CW for blood and gore and vomit] takes place a day or two after emizel was sired. just two boys adjusting to a shift in their daily norms. would YOU drink your homies blood? still not used to writing fanfic so any and all advice IS appreciated. i hope u enjoy.

There were very few things that Soda enjoyed more than well, drinking soda. It was a hobby, an interest, a comfort. And by extension there were very few errands that Soda would look forward to more than the occasional soda run.

The gas station closest to the Demons hideout had stopped selling Faygo entirely about a month or two ago, and it was near impossible to find it anywhere else. The closest place was now this janky little Shell gas station, lovingly titled the Shady Shell, that thankfully sold more flavors than any of the other ones ever did.

It made the hour and a half walk here entirely worth it. Even if this side of town made his skin crawl. Normally he would ask someone to accompany him on this daring little quest, but everyone at the hide out tonight just seemed too tired, too preoccupied, too uninterested.

He knew not everyone really got the soda thing, but they were accepting of it for the most part. Soda is something that, clearly, Soda really loves, but he knew not everyone else was into it.

Which was fine, of course. They didn't need to get it. But, still, sometimes Soda found himself wondering how much of it was a bit, and how much was him.

Emizel gets it perfectly though. He would've been the first person Soda would ask to go on this soda run with him, but, well. He's been preoccupied too, with the whole vampire thing.

It's been a bit more than a day since Soda had last seen his close comrade. For a friend that he saw just about everyday, going without him this long left him feeling a little emptier.

That was fine, though. Emizel had shit he was working out, he had things he needed to do. It's not like he could go out in the day anymore, so of course Soda wouldn't be seeing him at all the usual times.

It was a lot of weird and heavy magical stuff, it made Soda think about those superhero shows. Where the hero needs to keep his identity hidden from everyone. Family especially. He knows how much of a piece of shit Emizels dad is, so he hoped that Emizels home life wasn't stirred up all stupid-like over this.

He hasn't told anyone else, about what happened that night. For the last 2 days, Soda would spend time with close friends and not let them know a thing about what happened to Emizel so, so recently. Why he's so suddenly absent, so distant, so.. off…

'Maybe his dad's just giving him a hard time', he would say, hoping to smother their questions. The less questions they ask, the better. At least until this vampire stuff gets figured out a bit more. Should Emizel wear a disguise when he goes out at night now? Just like a superhero? What kind of hero outfit would Emizel have anyways? Soda figured it would be something really cool.

If anyone could figure out a way to balance all this vampire stuff, and all the leaderly responsibilities that come with being the biggest dog in the Demons, it was Emizel for sure. That guy is so seriously cool.

He was sure this rough patch would even out, and they would weather the next rough patch together no problem. There was really nothing to worry about! All Soda has to do is stay positive, and well, drink soda.

As Soda walks quietly down the crumbling sidewalks of this dreary hive of strip malls and shops, he goes to pull his backpack around to his chest, fumbling with the zipper in the dark. Which was a little annoying, considering the tab of his zipper had fallen off forever ago. He really needed to get around to fixing this damn thing. Maybe another ziptie and a soda tab will do the trick.

Humid air hangs heavy in the night, the sidewalks still somewhat warm after a hotter day. The diesel-soaked air provided enough warmth on its own that Soda had considered taking his jacket off a few times, only for the occasional, annoyingly sharp and chilly breeze to brush by, reminding him to keep the thing on.

Tripping only once and only slightly on an uneven sidewalk, Soda manages to pull a bottle of Faygo from his backpack, a smile glowing on his face. Another short fight with the zipper seals up the bag, and he slings it over his shoulder again.

His flavor of choice tonight was actually the Red Pop, the tried and true, the absolute classic, one of the best Faygo flavors for sure.

But, this kind wasn't actually his favorite. Normally he would stock up on the cotton candy ones, but something about the last few days had him craving the red stuff.

Securing his backpack all the way, he goes to crack open the bottle. Just the clack and the hisssss of the fizzy drink were enough to lift his mood.

Not that his mood needed lifting or anything. Of course. Sure he missed his friend and sure he found himself wondering what he’s doing and where he is and if he's okay. Maybe sometimes he found himself wishing they talked about funeral plans more.

Emizel talked up all sorts of crazy funeral ideas for himself, usually involving the use of his dead body as an inconvenience for others. Outlandish and hilarious ideas, like filling it with explosives and tossing it into a busy road. But what would he want seriously? What would Soda ever do if he just stopped showing up one day?

He had to swallow down all these unnecessary anxieties, so he took a swig of his soda. Sweet, bubbly, comforting. He felt better already! Just stay positive, and drink soda..

It was a lovely night out, and he didn't come all this way planning on letting it go to waste. There was a place he was heading towards, a particular alleyway in this particular place that led off to a particularly tall concrete ledge.

It was a run-down little space, littered with trash and shitty trees and those bushes with just too many goddamn ants in them. But the view was fairly nice, overlooking a massive deformed intersection. A particularly stupid one, at that; about 3 times a week you could witness a gnarly crash at this spot. Soda always heard people saying that LA folks can't drive, but he was just starting to figure that maybe no one can drive.

That was the place he really wanted to go to enjoy this soda, and he wasn't too far off from it. Just a few more blocks, and he would be there.

Oh wait, didn't he still have a bag of chips in this backpack somewhere? Hell yeah, he couldn't wait to sit down and relax with a good soda, a good snack, and a good view of the night.

Living as a Demon had its fair share of stresses. He felt lucky to have this life, but he knew well that it could be better. That not everyone has to worry about survival the way they do. That not everyone gets injured on the regular and not everyone has to worry about being sick and never getting better.

Living is hard. But it's finding the small moments of joy that make it all worth it. Dying would be scarier anyway. He didn't want to die, and he felt glad to feel so confident in that nowadays.

The sudden THUNK of something slamming into the ground just a block away from him, jolts him out of his thoughts, all his gears screeching to a halt as he freezes in place. What the fuck was that?

It looked like a person, laying flat on the ground with only their head and shoulders peeking out of the alleyway ahead. Fuck. He hated this side of town..

Anxiety churns in his stomach as he debates just turning around, but the way the victim reaches an arm out, attempting to crawl away; it made his heart ache aswell. he's no goddamn fighter, but he couldn't just leave someone like th-

The body is suddenly yanked back into the alley, snatched at a startling speed. It didn't feel exactly real, how could something vanish so fast? It reminded Soda of something from a horror movie, or whatever. What the fuck was that??

His foot takes a step forward, before the rest of his body notices its rebellion and locks down again. Was he seriously going to investigate that? He could just walk away and take another alley. But that was the one he was supposed to turn down! All the other alleys are either walled off or gated off and he wasn't about to go climbing over a damn wire gate. His soda would get too shaken up! Fuck!

Another foot goes in for another step forward. He's gotta get the fuck out of here. He could hear more commotion in the alleyway, a scuffle, a skirmish. He could hear someone cursing through a choked breath. A loud and nauseating crack echoes out from the alley, and yet, Soda takes another step forward.

This was stupid, he shouldn't be getting tangled up in someone else's business. What if something happened to all this soda?

Thankfully, it was that thought that actually got him to pause, and take in a deep breath. It wasn't worth it, maybe he should head straight home.

Atleast, that was the thought his heart and mind were about to agree on, until a particularly familiar grroowwwwlll bleeds out from the alley.

Emizel?

All reason immediately evaporates as Soda makes that connection in his head, stepping right up to the corner of the brick walls, and peering around to investigate.

There was a body on the floor, face down in a puddle of red, head split open in a way that reminded Soda of a smashed watermelon.

But standing over that body, was the familiar, blackened coat, and short blonde hair, of Sodas closest comrade, Emizel.

Despite the carnage on the floor, Soda couldn't help the smile that lights up his face. That was Emizel! That was his boy!

But before he could get over just how happy he felt to see his best friend, something else caught his eye. Movement, behind the dumpster closest to the vampire boy. A person, rising out from the shadows with a glinting baseball bat clutched fiercely in their hands.

"Oh fuck, look out!" Soda speaks up, and Emizels gaze immediately clicks over to him, silencing Soda with just that startlingly red stare.

He had forgotten just how uneasy those red eyes made him..

The attacker, silent and professional, rushes up behind Emizel and CRACKS the metal bat downwards onto his blonde head, the sound ringing out like a gun shot in that dark little alleyway.

Soda cringes from just the sound of the impact, but was amazed to find that the bat had warped under the force of it!

The attacker hardly had a chance to process his mangled weapon before Emizel whips around to retaliate.

It looked like he had just swung his hand at his opponent, so the way a shower of red spills outward from the slash, catches Soda completely off guard. The monster boy had cleaved an excruciatingly massive gash up from the attackers right hip, to his left shoulder, the slice spewing with scarlet.

It wasn't until Emizel had pulled back his arm, that Soda could process the way it had darkened with more than just blood, distorted into an odd, spear-like shape.

The victim hardly had a chance to yelp before that blade swoops up into his chest at the speed of a snapping bear trap, plunging through meat and bone with disturbing ease, and forcing blood and viscera to erupt outwards. The red patters down onto the concrete behind, the sound similar to rain...

With another low, inhuman snarl, Emizel brings the twitching, dying body closer, until that signature squish of teeth sinking into fresh meat bleeds outward into the space.

What a disgusting sound, Sodas first instinct was to simply avert his eyes, but as the sound persists, he resolves that he has to do something.

He finally steps out into the alley, and speaks.

"Hey ma-"

He could hardly get two words out before Emizel suddenly rips its teeth away from its victims throat, tearing out a hefty chunk of jellied meat, and slamming the remaining fodder onto the concrete floor.

It immediately whips around to stare down Soda, red eyes glowing with reflected light, and with hardly a chance to process the moment-

-It's immediately right infront of Soda.

A gasp lurches from Soda's lungs as he almost stumbles back in shock. How was Emizel so fucking fast?

Other than that single step back, Soda was frozen in shock, his tongue buzzing with the physical pain of such a startling jolt. 'White boy jumpscare' is something that came to mind, but while usually such a thought would evoke some sort of laugh from Soda, this time it offered no such comfort. Okay maybe it did a little.

Emizels snarling face was only inches away from Sodas. Its eyes were wild and unnatural, teeth menacingly sharp and reddened with so much fucking blood. It was everywhere, coating most of his face, smothering his shirt and his coat, and absolutely choking the air with its thick, metallic stench.

Soda would gag if he felt he was safe to even move. He felt like he was locking eyes with that of a creature, something he would only ever see in his nightmares or in scary movies. But it was real. Those monsters are real. And his best friend is one of those monsters. His bestest friend in the world...

His mind was skewered on that unnatural glare, completely frozen with anxiety. Stalling too hard to come to a proper conclusion, Soda instead falls back onto what Soda does best.

"H-hey man... You want some soda?"

He very gently presses the opened bottle of Faygo into Emizels chest.

The two boys stand there for a moment, locked in a tense, silent pause, before the monster boy finally peels its gaze down to the bottle.

It's quiet, for a few seconds, the gears turning in its head. Until the monster blinks, and its eyes clear, and Emizel processes the sight of the bottle.

"Oh, fuck yeah dude, is that the Candy Apple Faygo? Man, that stuffs my favorite!" Emizel smiles as he goes to accept the bottle, and immediately takes a massive swig.

Soda tries to disregard the way his hands were still shaking. "Uh, n-nah man, its just Red Po-"

The words are bit off as Emizel suddenly retches, a heavy flood of red blood and red Faygo spewing out onto Soda, as the vampire boys body entirely rejects the fizzy drink.

The shock of getting fucking projectile vomited on had snapped Soda out of whatever daze he was just in, and it seemed to snap Emizel out of it too. Soda backs up with a groan, looking down at all the blood and bile and pop on his shirt and coat.

"Ohhh fuck dude, what the hell??" He cringes, not even wanting to try smearing any of it off with his hand.

Emizel was coughing, still holding out the Faygo bottle, but hunched over as his body dared to convulse again.

"Ohhhhhh fuck, ohhooohhh fuuuuucckkk" he grumbles towards the floor "Fuuuck I’m sorry dude, I don't know what fuckin- oohhhgg shit,” He coughs and groans, offering the bottle back to Soda.

Soda was still staring at his messied coat with a displeased grimace, but looking up to meet Emizels eyes...

There was a guilt on Emizels face that Soda didn't see too often, and it helped wash away that irritation he felt. This sucked, but Emizel was probably going through a lot more.

“It’s, uhm.. don't, don't worry about it, man..” Soda decides to reassure him, offering a sympathetic smile, and a hand on Emizels shoulder, as his comrade spits out the remaining blood and bile.

"Fuckin hell… I’m uh, I'm sorry about your shirt, man."

"What? Nahh it's okay man, don’t worry about it." Soda shrugs, taking the Faygo bottle back. "I mean, are you okay man? That uh.. looked like a pretty crazy fight."

Emizel was rubbing his eyes, smearing more blood across his face as he seems to be collecting himself. he spares a glance back at the carnage behind him.

"Ah.. yeah.. I thought I uh.. I thought I saw that one fucker from uh. That one night. Yknow, the one that uh.." He snaps his fingers, as if trying to summon back the memory. "Vampire bitch... Anyway after that I just kind of, uh.."

He seems to space out again as he looks around. It was as if he was just woken up from a deep sleep, like he was certain he had just known what he was doing, but found the dream escaping him. "I guess I just.. went crazy on these guys. I dunno, they're Fangs anyways." he finally shrugs it all off, but Soda still felt unsatisfied by the answer.

"Oh.. huh…” is the only response he manages to scrounge together. Sure they were Fangs, but did they really deserve.. all that? It just seemed a bit brutal, even by Emizels standards.

He found his eyes wandering over to the split-open head. It was mostly red and bloody, but even in the dark, he could still make out some of the finer details of the gray jelly seeping from the gash. A human brain. He wondered if his own brain looked the same on the inside..

“So what are you doing out here, man?” Emizels question helps Soda pull his eyes away from the gore, instead looking over to his bloodied comrade.

Emizel looked messy and even exhausted, but his drowsy gaze was focused on Soda with a worried expression.

“Oh, uh, yknow, just a soda run. Decided I would stock up on some Faygo from the Shady Shell.” Soda shrugs, his eyes flickering down to the opened Faygo in his hand. The top was covered in regurgitated blood. unnaturally blackened blood…

“Are you.. okay, by the way? Other than the whole..” Soda gestures vaguely at the gruesome crime scene. “Are you hurt?”

The question has Emizel pausing to consider. He straightens his back and stretches his arms, as if trying to detect any pain from any possible injury. Nothing seemed to be bothering him though, and after a second, he decides to shrug.

“Nah, I'm all good.”

“Oh.. That's good, I uh…” Soda found himself looking over Emizel aswell, searching for any wounds the monster boy might be simply disregarding, as he often does.

There was a fairly gnarly gash on his shin..

“Hey uh, I was actually gonna go hang out by the ledge down that way. Yknow, the one with the funny intersection.” Soda says, gesturing off towards where he intended to go. “Wanna come with?”

Emizel looks back that way, before turning back to Soda with a big smile on his face.

“Oh hell yeah I do! I love the funny intersection!” he starts to walk down the alley, about to step over the body of the broken skull, when Soda speaks up.

“Uh, hey, shouldn't we uh.. Do something about the.. uh..” He waves a hand over towards the bodies, trying not to look directly at them.

Emizel spares the corpses an inconvenienced glance, and a sigh, but ultimately shrugs them off. “Ehhh I'll just dump 'em in a dumpster again.. That's what I've been doing anyway.”

“And you're not worried about, like, anyone finding them?”

Soda anxiously watches on as Emizel paces around the body with the torn-out throat, licking the blood from his own mouth. Was his tongue always that long and pointed? That's neat, and normally Soda would point it out, but he was a bit.. preoccupied right now

“Nahh not really. I haven't had anyone bother me at least.. Anyone been bothering you?” Emizels eyes finally flick back over to Soda.

“Nah, I'd say things are actually more lax than usual. Anything that would end up being trouble’s been pretty much crushe- er, killed- destr- stamped out, by uh, by you.” Sods was cringing with every attempt to find a word that didn’t make his stomach turn, but Emizel didn’t seem to notice or mind.

Emizels eyes were currently a bit more focused on the body laying before him. He had that weird look on his face again…

“Uhh, yeah, yeah that's good that uh, no troubles coming back to you guys…”

There’s a moment of quiet between the two as Emizel stares at this corpse, and Soda was about to open his mouth to fill the silence, but Emizel speaks up instead.

“Hey uh, why don’t you go ahead of me? I’ll uh, I'll meet you at the place.” He suggests, pointing vaguely off down the alley, but not removing his eyes from the kill.

Soda certainly hesitates, his eyes narrowing before he even forms a thought. He opens his mouth to object, but then his eyes flicker back towards the body.

“Are you gonna eat this one too?”

The question leaves Sodas mouth as soon as it comes to mind.

Emizel pauses, and considers, before giving a shrug. “I don't see why not. Perfectly good blood.” He reaches down to grab his kill by the shirt, the one with the split open head. As the corpse rises from the concrete, gray matter drips and sloughs from the crack in its skull. Once again, Soda felt the need to look away, and yet his stupid eyes remained fixated on the horrendous sight. Emizel looks over the spilling brain of his meal, licking his lips curiously. “Dude, what do you think would happen if I ate his brain?” Emizel asks, looking back over to Soda with a wild, bloodied smile. Something about that look made Soda shiver, but.. Not really in a bad way… “Uh, I.. Dunno…. Eating a persons brain is how you get like, mad cow disease right? But you might also be immune to disease.. Are you immune to disease?” “Uhhh, I don't know yet actually. I'm still figuring out how much of this is like video games,” Emizel says, rubbing the back of his head as he idly sways the body of his kill around, watching the blood and gore drip and drop from its broken head. “Eh, I'll chance it later.” Without another word or thought, Emizel goes to sink his teeth into the shoulder of his kill, a pleased growl radiating from him as the blood gushes around the bite. More fresh blood upon less fresh blood upon old blood upon older blood. Just so much fucking blood. Soda thought he was used to seeing blood, but this… this was just egregious. Was he really starting to get used to this? It’s just blood after all, and it’s not from his comrades, so it's… fine… He finally manages to pull his eyes away from the gruesome sight of Emizel feeding, but his eyes instead wander down to the blood on his own shirt. Emizels blood was strange, darker than usual, and carrying a different scent. Something about the smell of his blood was more savory, more appealing than the standard metallic miasm. His shirt was smothered in it, his jacket was coated in it, and his opened bottle of Faygo was also splattered with the deep red ichor. Ink swirls within the bottle of red fizzy, spreading out into all sorts of odd patterns. It was a lot of blood. He was certain a lot of it came from however many people Emizels been feeding on. With how much hes been terrorizing the Fangs in just the last few days, and with how nonchalantly he feasts on his kills, who knows how much blood hes actually ingested… Soda swirls the bottle, watching the blood inside thin out into strands, dancing within the bubbly soda as they gradually dissipate, fully assimilating into the drink. A bad idea chews at the back of his head… The sound of ripping flesh once again knocks at Sodas head. He doesn’t look up this time, but he knew Emizel was just playing with his food again.. Did blood taste good to a vampire? Did some blood taste better than others? What did Sodas blood taste like? What did Emizels blood taste like? There's a visceral snap of something among the chewing and ripping, very clearly a bone or a joint snapping out of place. It made Soda shiver a little. When did his heart start pounding? There's an animal standing only 8 feet away from him, feeding on its kill. That animal is a person, and so is its kill. He wanted to know what vampire blood tasted like, but he already knew what human blood tasted like. It hung so densely in the air, he could feel it forming a vile film over his tongue. The blood of a person just like him. Eaten by an animal that eats people. All this stress was no good. This bile rising to his throat was no good. This creeping anxiety was no good. He's friends with an animal that eats people. Would it eat him? This weird feeling was no good. Maybe it will never eat him. But it needs to eat people. This worry was no good. He needed to wash this awful taste from his mouth, replace it with something sweeter. He needed to keep his head clear enough to be there for Emizel when he needed to be. He needed to hold a light to these shadows. And he needed to stay positive, and drink soda. He takes a swig of the open Faygo bottle.

#NO MAIN TAGS WE DIE LIKE ROADKILL #WOW ISNT IT WEIRD THAT YOUR BESTEST FRIEND IN THE WHOOOLE WORLD EATS PEOPLE NOW #ISNT IT WEIRD THAT YOU KIND OF WISH YOU WOULD BE EATEN. EXCEPT NOT RLY BC U WOULD DIE. MAYBE HE COULD HAVE A NIBBLE #i might come back to ramble in the tags more later. STAY TUNED!!!#OKAY IM BACK TO RAMBLE. FIZZFAGS SEAL O APPROVAL IN THE TAGS U MEAN THE WWWOORRLLD TO MEEEE #THIS IS ALL YOUR FFAAAUULTT UR THE ONLY REASON THESE LOSERS ARE ROTATING IN MY BRAIN SO SO FAST #I DO INTEND TO WRITE MORE!! AND I DO INTEND TO LET IT GET WEIRDER #Iwanna make a lil chapter two w them hanging out at the funny intersection while soda maybe tries to patch emizel up.#wouldnt it be fucked up if u saw ur best friend get bled out n then sired right infront of u #and wouldnt it be fucked up if ina vampiric daze he almost sinks his crazy shark teeth into your throat #and wouldnt it be fucked up if you kinda wish he did. like not in a weird way or anything its not weird its not weird at all #RAAHH IM SO HAPPY THAT PPL LIKE MY WRITING STYLE N MY CHARACTERIZATIONS ASWELL IT MEANS SO MUCH TO MMEEEE #NICE WORDS GIVE ME SO MMUCH POOWWEERRRRR RAAGHGHHH!!!thank you guys for being so niceys to me #ive also been thinkin abt writing Post Suckening fics. EXCITED FOR SEASON TWO. in the meantime what if theo had to put up w shenanigens #one shenanigen for example being emizel going feral and attacking a comrade.#then theo needs to stake him n pull him aside n set him straight or something. set him gay. whatever.#ive also had an idea in my head. BC GABRIEL IS TOTALLY INSIDE OF EMIZELS BRAIN NOW #could u imagine doing acid or shrooms w ur homies n then suddenly ur nemesis is showing up in ur fractal hallucinations #anyway i think thats all da ramble i got in me. thanku for enjoying my writing thank yooouuu

31 notes · View notes

alphajocklover · 2 days

Text

Possessed by the Power of Thor

**hey guys! This story was requestioned by someone in my dms who prefers to remain anonymous. I still wanna give them a shout out for helping me refine the story and challenging me to try something new. I’ve never done anything with macro or giant growth before so here goes nothing! Hope you like it!**

Ronald Blake loved superheros. He absolutely adored them. That might not seem so unique at first, after all most nerdy teenagers love superheros. Hell with the movies and the popularization of what was once considered fringe, geeky culture, most people loved superheros. A lot of jocks liked superheros. But Ron was absolutely obsessed. His bedroom was a shrine to his favorite heros, with posters and shelves of memorabilia covering the walls. His meticulously cared for comic book collection took up 3 closets, and was only allowed to be read with gloves. Ron would spend every day in his room, reading and rereading comics, dissecting how they worked and the tropes they used. Ron’s favorite superhero was Thor, the joy of almost sharing a name with his original secret identity (yes Thor had a secret identity once, as Ron will happily tell you) having sparked a lifelong love of the character. Normally none of this would be a problem. Sure Ron was fairly obsessive, but a lot of people got that way about their hobbies. The issue was that Ron used comics as a way to avoid life. Ron was, to put it crudely, fat and shy. The 19 year old had been overweight as long as he could remember, and though he had plenty of online friends, could barely talk to other people in person. He spent almost every day holed up in his room, losing himself in the fantasy of his comic books to try and forget how depressed he was.

That's what made the fact that Ronald was outside today so surprising. Usually the only time Ron left his room was to see his mom or to go to a convention. But today Ron was after something special. He had found someone selling a perfect replica of Thor's hammer, Mjolnir. There were plenty of people selling replicas like that, but this one was incredibly cheap, high quality, and even came with a base that it would be stuck to unless someone used special gloves to remove it. It was literally perfect and so cheap that Ron couldn’t resist. Normally he’d be more suspicious but the sellae had great reviews, and the pictures of the replica were many and detailed. Still he had insisted on seeing it in person before buying it. Ron had expected to open the door to find a fellow out of shape geek excited to show off his latest work and get some money. What he found instead surprised him. The man towered over Ron, and looked more like he belonged in a gym than talking to someone like Ron. He grinned confidently and greeted Ron with an incredibly firm, manly handshake.

“You’re Ron right? Ronald Black?” He asked with a charming grin

“Uh, B-blake actually. R-ronald Blake.” Ron said, shaking off his shock. The jock in front of him grinned wide before continuing.

“Like Donald Blake from the earlier comics. I guess it’s fate that you’re buying the replica. I’m Clark, Clark Keen.” Clark said with a charming grin as he hesitates for Ron to come in

“Like Clark Kent. That’s a c-coincidence. T-though you look more like Superman than I do like Thor…” Ron said with a slight self deprecating chuckle. Clark didn’t seem to notice

“Thanks man! I spend a lot of my free time working out. Muscle helps a lot when you're making things out of metal.” Clark said with a grin as he led Ron to his backyard “Now, there is something I have to tell you about this replica. The reason I’m selling it for so cheap. It’s… flawed.” Clark admitted. Ron’s heart sank to his chest. “I would have told you online but by the time I realized I hadn’t included the mistake in the seller info you were already here. See, the guy who engraved the writing on Thor's hammer made a typo. A big one.” Clark said. Clark opened the door, and revealed the hammer.

It was an incredible replica. Detailed, made of quality, lightweight, but realistic looking materials. Despite its intricacies it still looked just as intimidating and strong as it was supposed to in the comics. Ron could swear he even felt an aura of power coming off of it.

But the inscription was… off. It was supposed to say the phrase ‘Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.’ There had been some small changes to it throughout the years, like making the he into a she when Jane Foster became Thor for a while, but that was the original words, the iconic ones that had lasted through the years.

That wasn’t what the hammer said

It read ‘Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall BE POSSESSED BY the power of Thor.’

Ron was devastated. He thought he had finally found an amazing cheap replica of his favorite comic book weapon, only for it to have a huge flaw. Sure it was a simple typo, but memorabilia like this was all about the details. It would be the first thing all of his online friends noticed. Clark could see the heartbreak on Ron’s face and tried to soften the blow

“I know it’s a bummer, but it’s still quality work. You’ve come all this way, why don’t you at least hold it. See how it feels in your hands.” Clark suggested. Ron was skeptical… but he might as well give it a try. Maybe he could ask how Clark made it. He seemed like a nice enough guy. Ron went over to the hammer with a strange sense of trepidation. As he wrapped a hand around the handle of the replica and lifted it up, he felt… strangely accomplished. He knew it wasn’t actually Mjolnir, that being able to lift it didn’t actually mean he was worthy of anything, but he allowed himself to lose himself in the fantasy and feel proud. That was until a horrible shock surged down his arm, causing Ron’s arm to seize up. He groaned in pain, and tried to drop the large hammer, but was unable to let go. What was happening? He felt like he was being electrocuted. He looked over to Clark in a panic, only to see a satisfied grin on his face. Ron began to panic.

“W-what did you do? What is this!?” Ron asked in fear. Clark calmly walked over to Ron, grabbed his hand, and led the disoriented man out to his backyard as he explained.

“See Ron, you may not know it but you’re a very lucky person. You live in a world without supervillains. Sure, you have your own issues, but you aren’t terrorized by city destroying monsters in shitty masks. Not every reality is so lucky.” Clark said cryptically, before continuing “There are worlds out there, other realities, that need heros. I find these world heros. Or, if there aren’t any to find… I make them.” Clark explained. Ron felt another shock wrack his entire body, like electricity in his veins. He was so consumed by his pain that he barely noticed as he began to grow, shooting up in height until he was an inhuman 10 feet tall. His shoulders widened to span more than 3 feet between them. Simultaneously, his fat melted away and the space it had occupied and more was soon taken up by enormous bulging muscles. They each grew to inhuman proportions: biceps alone like watermelons, pecs so large and jutting out so much they were in size similar to pillows…very hard pillows, abs so defined there are no words and legs long and wide enough with muscle to make all the muscular proportions fit, even look handsome. His jaw sharpened as his hair grew longer. He didn’t look like himself anymore or any human for that matter. He looked too tall, strong, handsome…like a god. Suddenly Ron understood.

“You’re… you’re turning me into Thor?!” He asked in shock. Ron had fantasized about being a superhero before, especially being Thor, but the actual prospect of being Thor was overwhelming. He couldn’t be a superhero! Before he could further panic, Clark interrupted

“While, not exactly. See the world you’re going too is one where people can grow to incredible size. You’re not just going to be Thor. You’re gonna be the biggest version of Thor ever.” Clark said with a smirk. Ron wanted to panic, but he felt strangely… confident? Almost cocky even. Suddenly Ron felt another shock as he shot up even higher, becoming even taller and more muscular. He continued like this for a while, growing in increasingly large spurts. First he shot up to 20 feet, then 50, then 200. By the end of the growth he was, well…

…600 feet tall, with muscles as big as mountains. Even with his massive height he had the proportions of a bodybuilder. No, of a god. That’s what he was after all. A fucking god. Somewhere in all the shocks and growth spurts Ronald Blake had been lost, and Thor Odinson, the giant cocky god, was born. This version of Thor seemed to have quite the ego on him, even more than his regular version. He ran a hand through his long, thick blond hair, a smirk on his handsome face. He chuckled as he saw the SHIELD helicarrier fly nearby. Midguardians were so puny it was almost pitiful. Still, he was a merciful god and loved playing the role of superhero. A familiar voice broke his train of thought as an equally gigantic version of Superman appeared behind him, a large grin on his face.

“So, you ready to save the world?” Superman asked. Thor held his giant hammer tightly, a confident, charming grin on his face. Fuck yeah he was.

#muscle growth tf #reality change #muscle tf #Giant Heros

31 notes · View notes

fleetinggill · 3 days

Text

Hey fellas. I just watched episode 19 of Dungeon Meshi and OH BOY AM I BEING VERY NOT NORMAL ABOUT IT. You know what else I’m not normal about? Life Series, and Hermitcraft as well.

I might finally get back into fic writing exclusively to write a Dungeon Meshi crossover. It won’t be a direct 1:1 thing; like, it’ll keep the same basic premise of “this member of our party died and we have to go back into the dungeon to resurrect them!” and it will retain the core plot elements. A lot of the same monsters would appear, especially ones that hold more weight to the plot, but some of the earlier ones will be replaced with Minecraft mobs to tie the universes together more and to force me to get more creative with the food descriptions.

However, the character dynamics will be different. The person who they’re trying to rescue may not be a sibling. The number of people in the other groups they encounter may be different and such. There will be no X = Laios and Y = Kabru and so on. The most direct parallels will be Falin, Senshi, and the Mad Mage; even they will not retain the same personality, dynamics with other characters, or backstories.

It will have the same world-building and a similar but not identical plot line. I think it would be way more interesting than a 1:1 direct translation into one specific season of either Hermitcraft or Life series.

More on this to come as I flesh it out more!! I might just do fics, but I may try to do art for it or ask someone else to do art for it…

I dunno. I guess, like, let me know if this sounds interesting? Or not lol. I’m gonna do it either way but I might invest more time in it if people actually like it

29 notes · View notes

thoughtidtry · 5 hours

Text

Built To Be Bad PT. 1 - MV

SUMMARY: Angst! You know he cheated in your heart so why can't you leave him behind. PAIRING: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader A/N: Inspired by Built To Be Bad by Grace Gachot & Alex Sampson. 1.6K+ words. I promise I like Max lol he's just so easy to write angst for.

Built To Be Bad - MV

"I used to take a hundred photographs. Just to send the perfect one"

Charles always teased you when you took selfies but for you, it was worth it. The perfect picture took time and you knew that from years of being a photographer. Even if it was only going to be seen by one person you could help yourself, especially when that one person was Max.

You had known Max almost your whole life from the weekends you spent at the karting track with your brothers. He had always been a constant but over time the friendship you two had developed evolved into more. Charles hadn't been happy to see his rival and sister together at first but he accepted it.

Now your time at the paddock was split between the Redbull and Ferrari garages. Seeing them racing against each other was always exhilarating but slightly painful as one would always have to lose to the other. You had stood by Max's side through his first years in F1, hearing all his frustrations, the good, bad, and ugly.

When you weren't able to be by his side you made sure to always send him pictures of your day and what you had done. That is where your love of photography actually starts just recording your life for him.

"I felt a hundred butterflies. Every time your name came up."

Not being able to travel to every race was normal if not expected in the f1 world. Those times away from each other only made your time together more important. When you were away from the Max you two made sure to always text constantly and call almost every night. See his name pop up on your phone always brightens your mood.

You felt like you could float away some days with how happy you felt having Max as your boyfriend. In the beginning of your relationship it felt like butterflies had inhabited your stomach the moment he spoke to you. Now it was more a relaxing wave washed over your body. You would still blush when your friends brought up Max but it was nice.

“Three more years than you deserved, nervous when you never were.”

Max was never nervous when it came to you. How could he be when you had followed him around for years without any sight of of leaving. That’s probably why things took the turn they did. He could never imagine you leaving him no matter what he did. At first it had put him at ease because he knew how much you loved him but as time passes he began to take the for granted. Ever since his first world championship 3 years ago he had slowly started to care less about you.

You had always been nervous around Max. He was talented, smart, attractive, and even though some would disagree, kind. It didn’t take much for you to become a nervous mess in from of him. A stolen glance that lasted a bit to long or even the way he with brush his hand across your back as he would pass would do you in. You love how calm he was in every situation, he was your calm. The calm you felt has slowly drifted away as time went on to the point you didn’t even know when it had started.

“Just one of like a hundred girls, you’ll never know how much it hurt.”

Over time Max stopped calling you on nights you didn’t travel with him to races making excuses. Most of the time it was just that he had been so tired that he had fallen asleep. You understood that his job could be very tiring but that had never stopped him before. Even when he was home you started to notice he was more distant than normal. He touched you less, did want to go on dates anymore, and barely listened when you spoke.

One day you were ordering something for the house but had left your wallet in the car so you asked to borrow his card to place the order. He had dismissively nodded not realizing what you had actually asked. That was until he heard a soft gasp coming from where you stood.

“When I saw her photograph next to mine. She had cocoa hair laying by your side.”

You couldn’t believe what was in your hands. Max has always kept a picture of you in his wallet. One of the many you would send him. He usually would trade them out over time choosing a new favorite. When you saw it sticking out of the bill portion of the wallet you were curious about which one he had chosen.

As you went to pull it out you notice there were two instead of one. Thinking nothing of it you pull both out. The first was one you had taken a year or so back smiling on a sidewalk in downtown Monaco while out shopping with some friends. You were surprised he still had one that was old in his wallet but knew the other would probably be newer as you moved the second to the front.

The moment you looked at the photo you froze with a small gasp escaping in shock. It wasn’t you on the phone but a girl with cocoa brown hair. She smiled up at the camera while Max, your Max, was kissing her cheek. Before you could even fully process what you had seen Max was snatching the wallet and photos out of your hands.

“You said she’s a friend for the hundredth time, but I saw your face and your face don’t lie.”

“She's just a friend”

Max said while putting both photos back in their place. You looked at him for a moment before responding. He looked nervous, for the first time in years Max was nervous.

“So you just carry pictures of random people now?”

You were so confused. Who was she? When was it taken? What does this mean for you? Max broke your train of thought to correct you.

“She is not some random person, like I said she's a friend.”

The defense in his voice along with the look he was giving you told you all you needed to know. You nodded your head slowly making Max think you believed him. He sighed in relief taking a step toward you but you quickly backed away. You wanted to be angry at him, yell, maybe even cuss him out but all you felt was heartbroken.

“I’m going to stay with Charles for a while, he's been wanting me to come over. I am going to go pack my bag.”

With that, you quickly walked to your shared bedroom and locked the door before Max could get in. You could hear Max on the other side banging on the door but you couldn’t make out what he was saying. Grabbing your phone, you quickly call your brother. He answered almost immediately in a cheerful tone.

“Hey sis, what up? Shouldn’t you be all over Max around this time.”

You let out a small sob that has your mask cracked a bit. He was right, you barely called him when Max was home, usually wanting to spend as much time as possible with the Dutchman.

“Charles, can you come get me? I need to get out of here.”

You could hear the immediate sound of him grabbing his keys as you spoke. He didn’t know what was happening but if you were calling him, he would be there. The door to his apartment slamming shut could be heard through the phone as he raced out.

“I’m on my way sis. Don’t hang up.”

You nodded like Charles could see you as you began to grab all your necessities from around the room and stuffed them into bags. By the time your brother arrived you had all you camera equipment packed along with clothes and any other important items packed into two separate bags. You heard him storm into the house like a hurricane. He was yelling at Max accusing him of so many different things when you open the door with your bags in hand.

Max noticed your presence first, trying to get to you before Charles shoved him back and yelled at him not to even think about getting close to you. Charles looked him up and down one more time before speaking to you without taking his eyes off Max.

“The car is out front. Go ahead and get in it, I’ll be there in a second.”

You went to argue that he should just come with you but you knew he wasn’t going to listen to you. Taking one more look at Max you did as you were told and turned to leave the apartment.

“Please liedje just let me explain.”

Max exclaimed in desperation as you left but you didn’t even spare him another glance knowing if you did you would crumble. Charles on the other hand as soon as you were out the door laughed.

“I hope whatever you did was worth it cause you won’t be seeing my sister again.”

Max saw red at the Ferrari driver’s statement. He quickly cleared the distance between them to punch Charles in the face but your brother was prepared. Before Max even had a chance to swing, Charles had his fist firmly planted in his stomach.

“Don’t be stupid Max, what would she think if you punched her brother too.”

With a sly smirk on his face Charles strolled out the door as Max doubled over in pain. By the time he had gotten to the car you had already started crying. The satisfaction he felt quickly disappeared as he saw the state you were in. Getting the driver seat he silently started the engine and began to drive. He wanted to know what had happened but you need time and he would respect that.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N There will be a part 2. More angst is on the way. lmk in the comment what you think or if you would like to be tagged in pt.2!

#formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #red bull racing #red bull f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #Spotify #ferrari

50 notes · View notes